Skip to main content

Full text of "Old and new London: a narrative of its history, its people, and its places"

See other formats 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

Microsoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/cassoldnewlondon01thoruoft 


Old  and  New  London: 


A    NARRATIVE    OF 


Its  History,  its  People,  and  its  Places. 


BY 


h,-rc^^  Walter    Thornbury. 


3IHu^traUD  tDiri)  numerous  (Kngrauings  from  tl)c  mo;3l  aut^^inttc  ^ourcw* 


VOL.    I. 


Cassell,   Petter,  &  Galpin, 

LONDON,   PARIS,   AND   NEW   YORK. 


(o-fl 
T4t, 

v./ 


CONTENTS. 


Introdlction 


PAGE 

I 


i6 


CHAPTER    I. 
ROMAN     LONDON 

Buried  London— Oiir  Early  Relations— The  Founder  of  London— A  Distinguished  Visitor  at  Romney  Marsh— Caesar  re-visits  the  "Town  on 
the  Lake" — The  Borders  of  Old  London — C;tsar  fails  to  make  much  out  of  the  Britons — King  Browu— The  Derivation  of  the  Name  of 
London— The  Queen  of  tlic  Iceni— London  Stone  and  London  Roads — London's  Earlier  and  Newer  Walls — The  Site  of  St.  Paul's — 
Fabulous  Claims  t«  Idolatrous  Renown  -  Existing  Relics  of  Roman  London— Treasures  from  the  Bed  of  the  Thames— What  we  Tread 
underfoot  in  London — A  vast  Field  of  Story  

CHAPTER    II. 

T  E  M  P  L  E     B  A  R  . 

Temple  Bar— The  Golgotha  of  English  Traitors— When  Temple  Bar  was  made  of  Wood— Historical  Pageants  at  Temple  Bar— The  Associa- 
tions of  Temple  Bar — Mischievous  Processions  through  Temple  Bar — The  First  Grim  Trophy — Rye-House  Plot  Conspirators         .        .      22 

CHAPTER    III. 

FLEET    STREET :— GENERAL    INTRODUCTION. 

Frp.ys  in  Fleet  Street— Chaucer  and  the  Friar— The  Duchess  of  Gloucester  doing  Penance  for  Witchcraft— Riots  between  Law  Students  and  i 
Citizens — 'Prentice  Riots — Gates   in  the  Pilli^ry — Entertainments  in  Fleet  Street— Shop  Signs— Burning  the  Boot — Trial  of  Hardy — 
Queen  Caroline's  Funeral .»...     3* 

CHAPTER    IV. 

FLEET    STREET   (coutiiiucd). 

Dr.  Johnson  in  Ambuscade  at  Temple  Bar -The  First  Child— Dryden  and  Bl.ick  Will— Rupert's  Jewels— Tclson's  Bank— The  Apollo  Club  at 
the  "Devil"— "Old  Sir  Simon  the  King" — "  Mull  Sack"— Dr.  Johnson's  Supper  to  Mrs.  Lennox— Will  Waterproof  at  the  "Cock" — 
The  Duel  at  "  Dick's  Coffee  House  '—Lintot's  Shop— Pope  and  Warburton— Lamb  and  the  Albion— The  Palace  of  Cardinal  Wolscy— 
Mrs.  Salmon's  Waxwork— Isa.ak  Walton— Praed's  Bank— Murray  and  Byron— St.  Dunstan's— Fleet  Street  Printers— Hoare's  Bank  and 
the  "  Golden  Bottle" — The  Real  and  Spurious  "  Mitre"— Hone's  Trial— Cobbett's  .Shop— "Peek's  Coffee  House"  .  •  ■      •      35 

CHAPTER   V. 

FLEET    STREET    {foniinuccl). 

The  "Green  Dragon" — Tompion  and  Pinchbeck — The  Record— St.  Bride's  and  its  Memories— Pwwc/i  and  his  Contributors —The  Dispatch— 
Th^  Daily  Telegraph — The  "  Globe  Tavern  "  and  Goldsmith — 'Y\\i  Morning  Ad7ierliscr — The  Standard — The  London  J/aga^iinc — A 
Strange  Story — AldermaiT  Waithman — Brutus  Billy— Hardham  and  his  "37" •        •        , S3 

CHAPTER    VI. 

FLiiKT    STREET    (NORTHERN    TRIBLTARIES-SHIRE    LANE    .AND    BELL    YARD). 

The  Kit- Kat  Club — The  Toast  for  the  Year— Little  Lady  ^Mary — Dnuiken  John  Sly— Garth's  Patients — Club  Removed  to  Barn  Elms— Steele 
at  the  "  Trumpet " — Rogues'  Lane— Murder — Beggars'  Haunts  Thieves'  Dens — Coiners — Theodore  Hook  in  Hemp's  Sponging-house — 
Pope  in  Bell  Yard — Minor  Celebrities— Apollo  Court        ...        .        .        •        . .        .        ,     ^0 

CHAPTER    VII. 

FLEKF    STREET    (NORTHERN    TRIBUTARIES- CHANCERY    LANE). 

The  Asylum  for  Jewish  Converts — The  Rolls  Chapel— Ancient  Monuments — A  Speaker  Expelled  for  Bribery — "Remember  Ca;sar" — Trampling  ' 
on  a  Master  of  the  Rolls — Sir  William  Grant's  Oddities  -  Sir  John  Leach — Funeral  of  Lord  Gifford — Mrs.  Clark  and  the  Duke  of  York 
— Wolsey  in  his  Pomp — Strafford —"  Honest  Isaak"— The  Lord  Keeper — Lady  Fanshawe — Jack  Randal^Scrjeants'  Inn — An  Evening 
with  Hazlitt  at  the  "  Southampton" — Charles  Lamb — Sheridan — The  Sponging  Houses— The  Law  Instirute— A  Tragical  Story       .        .      7^ 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

FLEET    STREET    (NORTHERN    TRIBUTARIES— <w/////^/f^). 

CliiTord's  Inn — Dyer's  Chambers — The  Settlement  after  the  Great  Fire— Peter  Wilkins  and  his  Flying  Wives- Fetter  Lane— Waller's  Plot  and 
Its  Victims — Praise-God  Barcbone  and  his  Doings— Charles  Lamb  at  School — Hobbes  the  Philosopher^A  Str.inge  Marriage — Mrs. 
Prownrigge— Paul  Whitehead— The  Moravians— The  Record  Office  and  its  Treasures— Rival  Poets 92 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

FLEET   STREET    TRIBUTARIES— CRANE    COURT,   JOHNSON'S    COURT,    BOLT    COURT. 

.  r-AGE 

Removal  of  the  Royal  Society  from  Gresham  College— Opposition  to  Newton — Objections  to  Removal — The  First  Catalogue — Swift's  Jeer  at 
the  Society — Franklin's  Lightning  Conductor  and  King  George  III. — Sir  Hans  Sloane  insuhed — The  Scottish  Society — ^^Vilkes's  Printer 
— llie  Delphin  Classics — Johnson's  Court— Johnson's  Opinion  on  Pope  and  Dryden— His  Removal  to  Bolt  Court — The  John  Bull— 
Hook  and  Terry— Prosecutions  for  Libel— Hook's  Impudence IO4 

CHAPTER   X. 

FLEET    STREET    TRIBUTARIES. 

Dr.  Johnson  in  Bolt  Court— His  Motley  HoiMehoId— His  Life  there— Still  existing — The  Gallant  "  Lumber  Troop  " — Reform  Bill  Riots— Sir 
Claudius  Hunter— Cobbett  in  Bolt  Court — The  Bird  Boy — The  Private  Soldier—  In  the  House— Dr.  Johnson  in  Gough  Square— Busy  at 
the  Dictionary — Goldsmith  in  Wine  Office  Court — Selling  "The  Vicar  of  Wakefield" — Goldsmith's  Troubles — Wine  Oliice  Court— The 
Old  "  Cheshire  Cheese  " 112 

CHAPTER    XI. 

FLEET    STREET    TRIBUTARIES- SHOE    L.\NE. 

The  First  Lucifers — Perkins'  Steam  Gun — A  Link  between  Shakespeare  and  Shoe  Lane — Florio  and  his  Labours— "Cogers' Hall  "—Famous 
"  Cogers" — A  Saturday  Night's  Debate — Gunpowder  Alley — Richard  Lovelace,  the  Cavalier  Poet — "To  Althea,  from  Prison" — Lilly 
the  Astrologer  and  his  Knaveries — A  Search  for  Treasure  with  Davy  Ramsay — Hogarth  in  Harp  Alley — The  "  Society  of  Sign  Painters" 
— Hudson,  the  Song  Writer — "Jack  Robinson" — The  Bishop's  Residence — Bangor  House — A  Strange  Story  of  Unstamped  Newspapers 
— Chatterton's  Death — Curious  Legend  of  his  Burial — A  well-timed  Joke 1 23 

CHAPTER    XII. 
FLEET    STREET    TRIBUTARIES-SOUTH. 

Worthy  Mr.  Fisher— Lamb's  Wednesday  Evenings— Persons  one  would  wish  to  have  seen— Ram  Alley — Serjeant's  Inn— The  Daily  Neivs — 
"Memorj-"  Woodfall — A  Mug-House  Riot — Richardson's  Printing  Office — Fielding  and  Richardson — Johnson's  Estimate  of  Richardson 
— Hogarth  and  Richardson's  Guest — An  Egotist  Rebuked — The  King's  "  Housewife  " — Caleb  Colton  ;  his  Life,  Works,  and  Sentiments     135 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

THE  TEMPLE.— GENERAL    INTRODUCTION. 

Origin  of  the  Order  of  Templars— First  Home  of  the  Order— Removal  to  the  Banks  of  the  Thames— Rules  of  the  Order— The  Templars  at  the 

Crusades,  and  their  Deeds  of  Valour— Decay  and  Corruption  of  the  Order— Charges  brought  against  the  Knights— Abolition  of  the  Order  147 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

THE    TEMPLE    CHURCH    AND    PRECINCT. 

The  Temple  Church — Its  Restorations — Discoveries  of  Antiquities — Tlie  Penitential  Cell — Discipline  in  the  Temple — The  Tombs  of  the 
Templars  in  the  "  Round  "—William  and  Gilbert  Marshall — Stone  Coffins  in  the  Churchyard — Masters  of  the  Temple — The  "Judicious" 
Hooker — Edmund  Gibbon,  the  Historian — The  Organ  in  the  Temple  Church— The  Rival  Builders-  -" Straw  Bail" — Historj'  of  the 
Precinct— Chaucer  and  the  Friar — His  Mention  of  the  Temple — The  Serjeants — Erection  of  New  Buildings — The  "  Roses" — Sumptuary 
Edicts— The  Flying  Horse 149 

CHAPTER   XV. 

THE     TEMPLE     [coti  tinned) . 
The  Middle  Temple  Hall  :  its  Roof,  Busts,  and  Portraits — Mannlngham's  Diary — Fox  Hunts  in  Hall — The  Grand  Revels— Spencer — Sir  J. 
Davis— A  Present  to  a  King— Masques  and  Royal  Visitors  at  the  Temple— Fires  in  the  Temple— The  Last  Great  Revel  in  the  Hall- 
Temple  Anecdotes— The  Gordon  Riots— John  Scott  and  his  Pretty  Wife — Colman  "  Keeping  Terms" — Blackstone's  "  Farewell " — Burke — 
/  Sheridan— A  Pair  of  Epigrams — Hare  Court — The  Barber's  Shop — Johnson  and  the  Literary  Club — Charles  Lamb — Goldsmith :  his  Life, 

-         Troubles,  and  Extravagances — "  Hack  Work''  for  Booksellers— 77^^  Deserted  Village — She  Stocks  to  C^/zyw^r— Goldsmith's  Death  and 

Burial I5B 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  TEMPLE  [continued). 
Fountain  Court  and  the  Temple  Fountain— Ruth  Pinch— L.  E.  L.'s  Poem— Fig-tree  Court — The  Inner  Temple  Library— Paper  Buildings— 
The  Temple  Gate— Guildford  North  and  Jeffreys— Cowper,  the  Poet :  his  Melancholy  and  Attempted  Suicide— A  Tragedy  in  Tanfield 
Court — Lord  Mansfield — ' '  ilr.  Murray  "  and  his  Client — Lamb's  Pictures  of  the  Temple—  The  Sun-dials— Porson  and  his  Eccentricities — 
Rules  of  the  Temple— Coke  and  his  Labours— Temple  Riots— Scuffles  with  the  Alsatians— Temple  Dinners— "  Calling"  to  the  Bar— The 
Temple  Gardens— The  Chrysanthemums— Sir  Matthew  Hale's  Tree — Revenues  of  the  Temple— Temple  Celebrities  ....    17^ 

CHAPTER     XVII. 

WHITEFRIARS. 

The  Present  Whitefrlars— The  Carmelite  Convent — Dr.  Butts — The  Sanctuary— Lord  Sanquhar  murders  the  Fencing-Master — His  Trl<il — 
Bacon  and  Velverton — His  Execution— Sir  Walter  Scott's  "  Fortunes  of  Nigel" — Shadwell's  Squire  of  Alsaiia — A  Riot  in  Whitefrlars — 
Elizabethan  Edicts  against  the  Ruffians  of  Alsatia— Bridewell— A  Roman  Fortification — A  Saxon  Palace — Wolsey's  Residence  — Queen 
Katherine's  Trial — Her  Behaviour  in  Court — Persecution  of  the  first  Congregationalists — Granaries  and  Coal  .Stores  destroyed  by  the 
Great  Fire— The  Flogging  in  Bridewell — Sermon  on  Madame  Creswell — Hogarth  and  the  "  Harlot's  Progress  " — Pennant's  Account  of 
Bridewell— Bridewell  in  1843 — Its  Latter  Days — Pictures  in  the  Court  Room — Brideivell  Dock — The  Gas  Works — Theatres  in  White'riars 
-  Pepys'  Visits  to  the  Theatre— Dryden  and  the  Dorset  Gardens  Theatre — Davenant — Kynaston — Dorset  House— The  Poet-Earl.  .   lo2 


CONTENTS.  vii 


CHAPTERXVIII. 
BLACK  FRIARS. 

PAGE 

Three  Norman  Fortresses  on  the  Thames'  Bank— The  Black  Parliament— The  Trial  of  Katherine  of  Arragon- Shakespeare  a  Blackfriars 
I\ianager — The  Blackfriars  Puritans— The  Jesuit  Sermon  at  Huiisdon  House — Fatal  Accident — Extraordinary  Escapes — Queen  Elizabeth 
at  Lord  Herbert's  Marriage— Old  Blackfriars  Bridge — Johnson  and  Mylne— Laying  of  the  Stone — The  Inscription — A  Toll  Riot — Failure 
of  the  Bridge— The  New  Bridge — Bridge  Street — Sir  Richard  Phillips  and  his  Works — Painters  in  Blackfriars — The  King's  Printing 
Office- Printing  House  Square— The  Times  and  its  History— Walter's  Enterprise— War  with  the  Dis/>atch—T\\e  gigantic  Swindling 
Scheme  exposed  by  the  TZ/wf— Apothecaries'  Hall— Quarrel  with  the  College  of  Physicians 200 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

LUDGATE       HILL. 

An  Ugly  Bridge  and  "  Ve  Belle  Savage" — A  Radical  Publisher— The  Principal  Gate  of  London — From  a  Fortress  to  a  Prison — "  Remember  the 
Poor  Prisoners '' — Relics  of  Early  Times — St.  Martin's,  Ludgate — The  London  Coffee  House — Celebrated  Goldsmiths  on  Ludgate  Hill — 
Mrs.  Rundell's  Cookery  Book— Stationers'  Hall— Old  Burgavenny  House  and  its  History — Early  Days  of  the  Stationers'  Company — The 
Almanacks — An  Awkward  Misprint — The  Hall  and  its  Decorations— The  St.  Cecilia  Festivals — Dryden's  "  St.  Cecilia's  Day  "  and 
"  Alexander's  Feast " — Handel's  Setting  of  them — A  Modest  Poet — Funeral  Feasts  and  Political  Banquets — The  Company's  Plate — 
Their  Chariii..s— The  Pictures  at  Stationers'  Hall — The  Company's  Arms— Famous  Masters 220 

CHAPTER    XX. 

ST.  PAULS. 

London's  Chief  Sanctuary  of  Religion— The  Site  of  St.  Paul's — The  Earliest  authenticated  Church  there — The  Shrine  of  Erkenwald— St.  Paul's 
Burnt  and  Rebuilt— It  becomes  the  Scene  of  a  Strange  Incident — Important  Political  Meeting  within  its  Walls — The  Great  Charter 
published  there — St.  Paul's  and  Papal  Power  in  England — Turmoils  around  the  Grand  Cathedral — Relics  and  Chantry  Chapels  in  St. 
Paul's — Royal  Visits  to  St.  Paul's — Richard,  Duke  of  York,  and  Henry  VI. — A  Fruitless  Reconciliation— Jane  Shore's  Penance — A 
Tmgedy  of  the  Lollards'  Tower — A  Roy.il  Marriage— Henry  VIII.  and  Cardinal  Wolsey  at  St.  Paul's — "  Peter  of  Westminster" — A 
Bonfire  of  Bibles — The  Cathedral  Clergy  Fined — A  Miraculous  Rood— St.  Paul's  under  Edward  VI.  and  Bishop  Ridley — A  Protestant 
Tumult  at  Paul's  Cross — Strange  Ceremonials — Queen  Elizabeth's  Munificence — The  Burning  of  the  Spire — Desecration  of  the  Nave — 
Elizabeth  and  Dean  Nowell — Thanksgiving  for  the  Armada — The  "  Children  of  Paul's" — Government  Lotteries — Executions  in  the 
Churchyard — Inigo  Jone.s's  Restorations  and  the  Puritan  Parliament — The  Great  Fire  of  1666— Burning  of  Old  St.  Paul's,  and  Destruction 
of  its  Monuments — E%clyn's  Description  of  the  Fire — Sir  Christopher  Wren  called  in 234 

CHAPTER    XXL 

ST.    P A  U  L'S    (continued). 

The  Rebuilding  of  St.  Paul's— III  Treatment  of  its  Architect— Cost  of  the   Present   Fabric— Royal  Visitors— The  First  Grave  in  St.  Paul's—    \ 
Monuments  in  St.  Paul's — Nelson's  Funeral — Military  Heroes  in  St.  Paul's— The  Duke   of  WeUington's  Funeral — Other  Great  Men  in    ^ 
St.  Paul's^Proposal  for  the  Completion  and  Decoration  of  the  Building — Dimen.sions  of  St.  Paul's — Plan  of  Construction — The  Dome, 
Ball,  and  Cross — Mr.   Horner  and  his  Observatory— Two  Narrow  Escapes — Sir  James  Thornhill— Peregrine  Falcons  on  St.  Paul's — 
Nooks  and  Corners  of  the  Cathedral — The  Library,  Model  Room,  and  Clock — The  Great  Bell — A  Lucky  Error — Curious   Story  of  a 
IMonomaniac — The  Poets  and  the  Cathedral — The  Festivals  of  the  Charity  Schools  and  of  the  Sons  of  the  Clergy 24^ 

CHAPTER    XXn. 

ST.    PAUL'S    CHURCHYARD. 

St  Paul's  Churchyard  and  Literature— Queen  Anne's  Statue— Execution  of  a  Jesuit  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard— Miracle  of  the  "  Face  in  the 

Straw"— Wilkinson's  Story— Newbery  the  Bookseller— Paul's  Chain—"  Cocker"— Chapter  House  of  St.  Paul's— St.  Paul's  Coffee  House     V 
— Child's  Coffee  House  and  the  Clergy— Garrick's  Club  at  the  "  Queen's  Arms,"  and  the  Company  there—"  Sir  Benjamin"  Figgins — 
Johnson  the  Bookseller— Hunter  and  his  Guests— Fuseli—Bonnycistle—Kinnaird— Musical  Associations  of  the  Churchyard— Jeremiah 
Clark  and  his  Works— Handel  at   Meares'  Shop— Young  the  Violin  Maker— The   "  Castle  "  Concerts— An  Old  Advertisement— Wren  at 
the  "Goose  and  Gridiron"—St.  Paul's  School  — Famous  Paulines — I'cpys  visiting  his  Old  School— Milton  at  St.  Paul's       .        ,        .        .262 

CHAPTER    XXIH. 

PATERNOSTER     ROU'. 

Its  Successions  of  Traders— The  House  of  Longman— Goldsmith  at  Fault — Tarleton,  Actor,  Host,  and  Wit— Ordinaries  around  St.  Paul's  : 
their  Rules  and  Custom;— The  "  C.istle  "—"  Dolly's"— "  The  Chapter"  and  its  Frequenters— Chat tcrton  and  Goldsmith— Dr.  Buchan 
and  his  Prescriptions— Dr.  Gower — Dr.  Fordyce — The  "  Wittiiiagemot  "  at  the  "Chapter" — The  "Printing  Conger" — Mrs.  Turner,  the 
Poisoner — The  Church  of  St.  Michael  "  ad  Bladum  "—The  Boy  in  P.inier  Alley 274 

CHAPTER    XXIV. 
BAYNARD'S    CASTLE   AND    DOCTORS'    COMMONS. 

B.aron  Fitzwalter  and  King  John— The  Duties  of  the  Chief  Bannerer  of  London— An  Old-fashioned  Punishment  for  Treason— Shakesperian 
Allusions  to  Baynard's  "Castle" — Doctors'  Commons  and  its  Five  Courts -The  Court  of  Probate  Act,  1857- The  Court  of  Arches — 
The  Will  Office— Business  of  the  Court— Prerogative  Court— Faculty  Office— Lord  Stowell,  the  Admiralty  Judge— Stories  of  him— His 
Marriage— Sir  Herbert  Jenner  Fust— The  Court  "  Ri.sing  "—Doctor  Lushington— Marriage  Licences— Old  Weller  and  the  "  Touters  " — 
Doctors  Commons  at  the  Present  Day 28l 

CHAPTER    XXV. 
HERALDS'-  COLLEGE. 

Early  Ho.-nes  of  the  Heralds— The  Constitution  of  the  Heralds'  College— Garter  King  at  Arms— Clarencieux  and  Norroy— The  Pursuivants- 
Duties  .ind  Privileges  of  Henilds— Good,  Bad,  and  Jovial  Heralds— A  Notable  Norroy  Kin^  at  Arms-The  Tragic  End  of  Two  Famous 
Heralds— The  College  of  Arms' Library ,  .......  294 


viii  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 
CHEAPSIDE-INTRODUCTORY   AND    HISTORICAL. 

PAGB 

Ancient  Reminiscences  of  Cheapside— Stormy  Days  therein— The  Westchepe  Market— Something  about  the  Pillory — The  Cheapsidc  Conduits 
— The  Goldsmiths'  Monopoly — Cheapside  Market — Gossip  anent  Cheapside  by  Mr.  Pepys — A  Saxon  Rienzi -Anti- Free-Trade  Riots  in 
ClieapsiJc — Arrest  of  the  Rioters — A  Royal  Pardon — ^Jane  Shore 3^4 

CHAPTER   XXVn. 

CHEAPSIDE    SHOWS   AND    PAGEANTS. 

A  Tournament  in  Cheapside —The  Queen  in  Danger — The  Street  in  Holiday  Attire — ^The  Earliest  Civic  Show  on  Record — The  Watei  Proces- 
sions— A  Lord  Mayor's  Show  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  Reign — Gossip  about  Lord  Mayors'  Shows — Splendid  Pageants — Royal  Visitors  at 
Lord  Mayers'  Shows — A  Grand  Banquet  in  Guildhall — George  III.  and  the  Lord  Mayor's  Show — The  Lord  l\Iayor"s  State  Coach — The 
Men  in  Armour — Sir  Claudius  Hunter  and  Elliston — Stow  and  the  Midsummer  Watch .3'5 

CHAPTER    XXVI  n. 

CHEAPSI  DE-CENTRAL. 

Grim  Chronicles  of  Cheapside— Cheapside  Cross — Puritonical  Intolerance— The  Old  London  Conduits — Medixval  Water-carriers — The  Church 
of  St.  Mary-le-Bow—"  Murder  will  out" — The  "Sound  of  Bow  Bells" — Sir  Christopher  Wren's  Bow  Church— Remains  of  the  Old 
Church — The  Seldam— Interesting  Houses  in  Cheapside  and  their  Memories — Goldsmiths'  Row — The  "Nag's  Head"  and  the  Self- 
consecrated  Bishop.s — Keats'  House — Saddlers'  H.-1II— A  Prince  Disguised— Blackmorc,  the  Poet — Alderman  Boydell,  the  Printseller— 
His  Edition  of  Shakespeare— "  Puck  " — The  Lottery— Death  and  Burial 33 2 

CHAPTER    XXIX. 

CHIL\PSIDE    TRIBUTARIES-SOUTH. 

The  King's  Exchange— Friday  Street  and  the  Poet  Chaucer— The  Wednesday  Club  in  Friday  Street— William  Paterson,  Founder  of  The  Bank 
of  England— How  Easy  it  is  to  Redeem  the  National  Debt— St.  Matthew's  and  St.  Margaret  Moses- Bread  Street  and  the  Bakers' 
Shops— St.  Austin's,  Watling  Street— The  Fraternity  of  St.  Austin's— St.  Mildred'.s,  Bread  Street— The  Mitre  Tavern— .\  Priestly  Duel 
— Milton's  Birth-place— The  "  Mermaid"— Sir  Walter  Raleigh  and  the  Mermaid  Club — Thomas  Coryatt,  the  Traveller— Bow  Lane- 
Queen  Street— Soper's  Lane— A  Mercer  Knight- St.  Bennet  Sherehog— Epitaphs  in  the  Church  of  St.  Thomas  Apostle— A  Charitable 
Merchant 34° 

CHAPTER    XXX. 

CHE.^PSIDE    TRIBUTARIES— NORTH. 

Goldsmiths'  Hall— Its  Early  Days— Tailors  and  Goldsmiths  at  Loggerheads— The  Goldsmiths'  Company's  Charters  and  Records  -Their  Great 
Annual  Feast— They  receive  Queen  Margaret  of  Anjou  m  State— A  Curious  Trial  of  Skill — Civic  and  Slate  Duties — The  Goldsmiths 
break  up  the  Image  of  their  Patron  Saint — The  Goldsmiths'  Company's  Assays— The  Ancient  Goldsmiths'  Feasts — The  Goldsmiths  at 
Work— Goldsmitlis'  Hall  at  the  Present  Day— The  Portraits— St.  Leonard's  Church— St.  Vedast— Discovery  of  a  Stone  Coffin— Coach- 
makers'  Hall        .        ...        • •         •        •_ 353 

CHAPTER    XXXI. 

CHEAPSIDE    TRIBUTARIES,  NORTH  :— WOOD    STREET. 

Wood  Street— Pleasant  Memories— Sl  Peter's  in  Chepc— St.  Michael's  and  St.  Mary  Staining— St.  Alban's,  Wood  Street— Some  Quaint 
Epitaphs— Wood  Street  Compter  and  the  Hapless  Prisoners  therein— Wood  Street  Painful,  Wood  Street  Cheerful- Thomas  Ripley— The 
Anabaptist  Rising— A  Remarkable  Wine  Cooper— St.  John  Zachary  and  St  Anne-in-the-Willows— Haberdashers'  Hall— Something 
about  the  Mercers       .•.-... 3"4 

CHAPTER    XXXII. 

•       CHEAPSIDE    TRIBUTARIES.    NORTH    (continued). 

Milk  Street—  Sir  Thomas  More — The  City  of  London  School — St.  Mary  Magdalen— Honey  Lane— All  Hallows'  Church— Lawrence  Lane  and 
St.  Lawrence  Church— Ironmonger  Lane  and  Mercers'  Hall  -The  Mercers'  Company— Early  Life  Assurance  Companies— The  Mercers' 
Company  in  Trouble — Mercers'  Chapel — St.  Thomas  Aeon — The  Mercers'  School — Restoration  of  the  Carvings  in  Mercers'  Hall — The 
Glories  of  the  Mercers'  Company — Ironmonger  Lane 3  74 

CHAPTER     XXXIII. 

GUILDHALL. 

The  Original  Guildhall— A  fearful  Civic  Spectacle— The  Value  of  Land  increased  by  the  Great  Fire— Guildhall  as  it  was  and  is  'i  iic  Staluss 
over  the  South  Porch — Dance's  Disfigurements — The  Renovation  in  1864 — The  Crypt — Gog  and  Magog — Shopkeepers  in  Guildhall — 
The  Cenotaphs  in  Guildhall — The  Court  of  Aldermen —The  City  Courts — The  Chamberlain's  Office  — Pictures  in  the  Guildhall — Sir 
Robert  Porter — The  Common  Council  Room — Pictures  and  Statues — Guildhall  Chapel — The  New  Library  and  Museum  — Some  Rare 
Books — Historical  Events  in  Guildhall — Chaucer  in  Trouble — Buckingham  at  Guildhall — Anne  Askew's  'I'rial  and  Death  -  Surrey — 
Throckmorton— Garnet — A  Grand  Banquet        .        .  ' . 3^3 

CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

THE    LORD     MAYORS    OF    LONDON. 

The  First  Mayor  of  London-«-Portrait  of  him — Presentation  to  the  King -An  Outspoken  Mayor — Sir  N.  Farindon — Sir  William  Walworth 
—Origin  of  the  prefix  "Lord"— Sir  Richard  Whittington  and  his  Liberality — Institutions  founded  by  him— Sir  Simon  Eyre  and  his 
Table — A  Musical  Lord  Mayor — Henry  VIII.  and  Gresham — Loyalty  of  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Citizens  to  Queen  Mary — Osborne's 
Leap  into  the  Thames  — Sir  V/.  Craven — Brass  Crosby— His  Committal  to  the  Tower — A  Victory  for  the  Citizens  .        .        .  39^ 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 
THE    LORD   MAYORS   OF  LONDON    {continued). 


PAGE 


416 


T  hn  Wilkes-  his  Birth  and  Parentage-The  North  Briton-T>nA  with  Martin-His  Expulsion-Personal  Appearance-Anecdotes  of 
Wilkes- A  Reason  for  making  a  Speech-WIlkes  and  the  KIng-The  Lord  Mayor  at  the  Gordon  Riots-"  Soap-suds "  versus  "Bar" 
-Sir  William  Curtis  and  his  KIlt-A  Gambling  Lord  Mayor- Sir  William  Staines,  Bricklayer  and  Lord  Mayor— "  Patty-pan "  Birch 
-Sir  Matthew  Wood-Waithman-Sir  Peter  Laurie  and  the  "Dregs  of  the  People  "-Recent  Lord  Mayors 4IO 

....... -euj^.-  ^^^   POULTRY. 

The  Early  Home  of  the  London  Poulterers-Its  Mysterious  Desertion- Noteworthy  Sites  in  the  Poultry— The  Birthplace  of  Tom  Hood, 

Senlor-A  Pretty  Quarrel  at  the  Rose  Tavern  -A  Costly  Sign-board -The  Three  Cranes— The  Home  of  the  Dillys-Johnsoniana—  \ 

St    Mildred's  Church,  Poultry— Quaint  Epitaphs— The  Poultry  Compter— Attack  on  Dr.  Lamb,  the  Conjurer— Dekker,  the  Dramatist 

•  —Ned  Ward's  Description  of  the  Compter- Granville  Sharp  and  the  Slave  Trade— Important  Decision  in  favour  of  the  Slave— Boyse 

— Dunton •        •        *        •        •    • 

CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

OLD  JEWRY. 

The  Old  Jewrj— Early  Settlements  of  Jews  In  London  and  Oxford— Bad  Times  for  the  Israelites— Jews'  Alms— A  King  in  Debt— Rachel 
weepinc'  for  her  Children — Jewish  Converts— Wholesale  Expulsion  of  the  Chosen  People  from  England — The  Rich  House  of  a  Rich 
Citizen— The  London  Institution,  formerly  In  the  Old  Jewry— Porsoniana— Nonconformists  in  the  Old  Jewry— Samuel  Chandler, 
Richard  Price,  and  James  Foster — The  Grocers'  Company — Their  Sufferings  under  the  Commonwealth — Almost  Bankrupt — Again 
they  Flourish— The  Grocers'  Hall  Garden— Fairfax  and  the  Grocers— A  Rich  and  Generous  Grocer— A  Warlike  Grocer— Walbrook — 
Bucklersbury 4^5 

CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 

THEMANSIONHOUSE. 

Tlis  Palace  of  the  Lord  Mayor- The  Old  Stocks'  Market- A  Notable  Statue  of  Charles  II.— The  Mansion  House  described— The 
Egyptian  Hall  -Works  of  Art  in  the  Mansion  House— The  Election  of  the  Lord  Mayor— Lord  Mayor's  Day— The  Duties  of  a  Lord 
Mayor— Days  of  the  Year  on  which  the  Lord  Mayor  holds  High  State— The  Patronage  of  the  Lord  Mayor— His  Powers— The 
Li:;utcnancy  of  the  City  of  London— The  Conservancy  of  the  Thames  and  Medway— The  Lord  Mayor's  Advisers— The  Mansion 
House  Household  and  Expenditure— Theodore  Hook  -Lord  Mayor  Scropps  -The  Lord  Mayor's  Insignia— The  State  Barge— The 
Maria   U'o.yd     .... 435 

CHAPTER     XXXIX. 
SAXO.N    LONDON. 

A  Glance  at  Saxon  London— The  Three  Component  Parts  of  Saxon  London— The  First  Saxon  Bridge  over  the  Thames— Edward  the  Confessor 
at  Westminster — City  Residences  of  the  Saxon  Kings— Political  Position  of  London  In  Early  Times — The  first  recorded  Great  Fire  of 
London — The  Early  Commercial  Dignity  of  London— The  Kings  of  Norway  and  Denmark  besiege  London  In  vain— A  great  Gemot  held 
in  London — Edmund  Ironside  elected  King  by  the  Londoners — Canute  besieges  them,  and  is  driven  off— The  Seamen  of  London — Its 
Citizens  as  Ebctors  of  Kings 447 

CHAPTER  XL. 

THE     BANK     OF     ENGLAND. 

The  Jews  and  the  Lombards— The  Goldsmiths  the  first  London  Bankers  —William  Paterson,  Founder  of  the  Bank  of  England— Difficult 
Parturition  of  the  Bank  Bill— Whig  Principles  of  the  Bank  of  England— The  Great  Company  described  by  Addison— A  Crisis  at  the  Bank 
—Effects  of  a  Silver  Re-coinage- Paterson  quits  the  Bank  of  England— The  Ministry  resolves  that  it  shall  be  enlarged— The  Credit  of 
the  Bank  shaken— The  Whigs  to  the  Rescue— Effects  of  the  Sacheverell  Riots— The  South  Sea  Company— The  Cost  of  a  New  Charter- 
Forged  Bank  Note.^  -The  Foundation  of  the  "  Three  per  Cent.  Consols"— Anecdotes  relating  to  the  Bank  of  England  and  Bank  Notes- 
Description  of  the  Building— Statue  of  William  III.— Bank  Clearing  House— Dividend  Day  at  the  Bank 453 

CHAPTER  XLI. 
THE  STOCK  E  X  C  H  .\  N  G  E. 
The  Kingdom  of  Change  .A.Iley— .\  William  III.  Renter- Stock  Exchange  Tricks— Bulls  and  Bears— Thomas  Guy,  the  Hospital  Founder— Sir 
John  Barnard,  the  "  Great  Commoner  " — Samson  Gideon,  the  famous  Jew  Broker — Alexander  Fordyce— A  cruel  Quaker  Criticism — 
Stockbrokers  and  Longevity— The  Stock  Exchange  in  1795— The  Money  Articles  in  the  London  Papers— The  Case  of  Benjamin  Walsh, 
M.P.— The  De  Bereng.:;r  Conspiracy— Lord  Cochrane  unjustly  accused— "  Ticket  Pocketing"— System  of  Business  at  the  Stock 
E.xchange— "  Popgun  John  " — Nathan  Rothschild — Secrecy  of  his  Operations  — Rothschild  outdone  by  Stratagem — Grotesque  Ske'tch  of 
Rothschild — Abraham  Goldsmid — Vicissitudes  of  the  Stock  Exchange — The  Spanish  Panic  of  1835 — The  Railway  Mania— Ricardo's 
Golden  Rules  -A  Clerical  Intruder  in  Capel  Court — Amusements  of  Stockbrokers— Laws  of  the  Stock  Exchange — The  Pigeon  E.xpress 
— The  "Alley  Man" — Purchase  of  Stock— Eminent  Members  of  the  Stock  Exchange 473 

CHAPTER   XLI  I. 

THE      ROYAL     EXCHANGE. 

The  Greshams— Important  Negotiations— Building  of  the  Old  Exchange— Queen  Elizabeth  visits  It — Its  Milliners'  Shops— A  Resort  for  Idlers 
— Access  of  Nuisances — The  various  Walks  in  the  Exchange — Shakespeare's  Visits  to  it — Precautions  against  Fire — Lady  Gresham  and 
the  Council — The  "  Eye  of  London  " — Contemporary  Allusions — The  Royal  Exchange  during  the  Plague  and  the  Great  Fire — Wren's 
Design  for  a  New  Royal  Exchange— The  Plan  which  was  ultimately  accepted— Addison  and  Steele  upon  the  E.xchange— The  Shops  of 
the  Second  Exchange .        , 494 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    XLIII. 

PAca 
The  Second  Exchange  on  Fire — Chimes  Extraordinary — Incidents  of  the  Fire — Sale  of  Salvage — Designs  for  the  New  Building — Details  of  the 
Present  Exchange — The  Ambulatory,  or  Merchants'  Walk — Royal  Exchange  Assurance  Company — "Lloyd's" — .Origin  of  "Lloyd's"— 
Marine  Assurance— Benevolent  Contributions  of  "  Lloyd's  " — A  "  Good  "  and  "  Bad  "  Book        .         .        .     ' 5*^3 

CHAPTER    XLIV. 
NEIGHBOURHOOD    OF    THE    BANK .— LOTHBURY. 

Lothbury— Its  Fo.^.^.  i....a^biiants— St.  Margaret's  Church— Tokenhouse\ard— Origin  ot  the  iiame— tartningbai.^x  I,".  C^'—r  Halfpence 

and  Pennies— Queen  Anne's  Farthings— Sir  William  Petty— Defoe's  Account  of  the  Plague  ;a  Tokcnhouse  Yard        .        .        .        .        .<5I3 

CHAPTER   XLV. 

THROGMORTON    STREET.— THE    DRAPERS'    COMPANY. 

Halls  of  the  Drapers'  Company— Throgmorton  Street  and  its  many  Fair  Houses — Drapers  and  Wool  Merchants—  The  Drapers  in  Olden  Times 
— Milborne's  Charity — Dress  and  Livery- — Election  Dinner  of  the  Drapers'  Company — A  Draper's  Funeral — Ordinances  and  Pensions — 
Fifty-three  Draper  Mayors — Pageants  and  Processions  of  the  Drapers— Charters — Details  of  the  present  Drapers'  Hall — Arms  of  the 
Drapers*  Company 5 '  i* 

CHAPTER   XLVI. 

BARTHOLOMEW    LANE    AND    LOMBARD    STREET. 

George  Robins— His  Sale  of  the  Lease  of  the  Olympic— St.  Bartholomew's  Church— Tlie  Lombards  and  Lombard  Street— William  de  la  Pole 
— Gresham— The  Post  Office,  Lombard  Street — Alexander  Pope's  Father  in  Plough  Court— Lombard  Street  Tributaries— St.  ]Mary 
Woolnoth— St.  Gement's — Dr.  Benjamin  Stone — Discovery  of  Roman  Remains— St.  Mary  Abchurch 5^2 

CHAPTER   XLVI  I. 

THREADNEEDLE      STREET. 

The  Centre  of  Rom.-.n  London— St.  Benet  Fink— The  Monks  of  St.  Anthony— The  Merchant  Taylors— Stow,  Antiquary  and  Tailor— A 
Magnificent  Roll— The  Good  Deeds  of  the  Merchant  Taylors— The  Old  and  the  Modern  Merchant  Taylors'  Hall—"  Concordia  parvae 
rescrescunt" — Henry  VIL  enrolled  as  a  Member  of  the  Taylors'  Company — A  Cavalcade  of  Archers— The  Hall  of  Commerce  in 
Threadneedle  Street— A  Painful  Reminiscence— The  Baltic  Coffee-house— St.  Anthony's  School— The  North  and  South  American  Coffee- 
f  house — The  South  Sea  House — History  of  the  South  Sea  Bubble — Bubble  Companies  of  the  Period — Singular  Infatuation  of  the  Public — 
Bursting  of  the  Bubble — Parliamentary  Inquiry  into  the  Company's  Affairs — Punishment  of  the  Chief  Delinquents — Restoration  of  Public 
Credit -The  Poets  during  the  Excitement — Charles  Lamb's  Reverie 53^ 

CHAPTERXLVIIL 

CANNON    STREET. 

London  Stone  and  Jack  Cade— Southwark  Bridge — Old  City  Churches— The  Salters'  Company's  Hall,  and  the  Salters'  Company's  History- 
Oxford  House — Salters'  Banquets— Salters'  Hall  Chapel— A  Mysterious  Murder  in  Cannon  Street— St.  Martin  Orgar— King  William's 
Statue  — Cannon  Street  Station 544 

CHAPTER   XLIX. 

CANNON    STREET    TRIBUTARIES    AND    EASTCHEAP. 

Budge  Row — Cordwalners'  Hall— St.  Swithln's  Church— Founders'  Hall — The  Oldest  Street  in  London— Tower  Royal  and  the  Wat  Tyler  Mob 
— The  Queen's  Wardrobe — St.  AnthoIIn's  Church — "St.  Antlin's  Bell" — The  London  Fire  Brigade— Captain  Shaw's  Statistics — St. 
Mary  Aldermary — A  Quaint  Epitaph — Crooked  Lane — An  Early  "Gun  Accident" — St.  Michael's  and  Sir  William  Walworth's  Epitaph 
'  — Gerard's  Hall  and  its  History— The  Early  Closing  Movement— St.  Mary  Woalchurch — Roman  Remains  in  Nicholas  Lane — St. 
Stephen's,  Walbrook— Eastcheap  and  the  Cooks'  Shops— The  "Boar's  Head" — Prince  Hal  and  his  Companions — A  Giant  Plum- 
pudding— Goldsmith  at  the  "  Boar's  Head  " — The  Weigh-house  Chapel  and  its  Famous  Preachers  — Reynolds,  Clayton,  Binney     ,        -55° 

\ 

CHAPTER    L. 

THE    MONUMENT    AND    ITS    NEIGHBOURHOOD. 

The  Monument— How  shall  it  be  fashioned  ?— Commemorative  Inscriptions— The  Monument's  Place  in  History— Suicides  and  the  ISIonument 
—The  Great  Fire  of  London — On  the  Top  of  the  Monument  by  Night— The  Source  of  the  Fire— A  Terrible  Description— Miles  Cover- 
dale — St.  Magnus,  London  Bridge 5*^5 

CHAPTER    LL 

CHAUCER'S     LONDON. 

London  Citizens  in  the  Reigns  of  Edward  III.  and  Richard  II.— The  Knight— The  Young  Bachelor— The  Yeoman— Tho  Prioress -Tlie  Honk 

who  goes  a  Hunting— The  Merchant— The  Poor  Clerk— The  Franklin— The  Shipman— The  Poor  Parsjn 575 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


824 


Introduction  of  Randolph  to  Ben  Jonson 
The  Old  Wooden  Temple  Bnr    . 
Burning  the  Pope  in  Effigy  at  Temple  Bar  . 
Bridewell  in  1666        ..... 

Part  of  Modern  London,  showing  the  Ancient  Wall 
Plan  of  Roman  London       .... 

Ancient  Roman  Pavement  .... 

Part  of  Old  London  Wall,  near  Falcon  Square 

Proclamation  of  Charles  IL  at  Temple  Bar 

Penance  of  the  Duchess  of  Gloucester 

The  Room  over  Temple  Bar 

Titus  Oates  in  the  Pillory   .... 

Dr.  Titus  Oates  ...  ... 

Temple  Bar  and  the  "  Devil  Tavern" 

Temple  Bar  in  Dr.  Johnson's  Time     . 

Mull  Sack  and  Lady  Fairfax 

Mrs.  Salmon's AVax-work,  Fleet  Street 

St.  L)unstan's  Clock    ..... 

An  Evening  with  Dr.  Johnson  at  the  "Mitre" 
Old  Houses  (still  standing)  in  Fleet  Street   . 
.St.  Bride's  Church,  Fleet  Street,  after  the  Fire,  i 
Waithman's  Sl'iop        .         .         .         .      •  , 

Alderman  Waithman,  from  an  Authentic  Portrait 
Group  at  Hardham's  Tobacco  Shop    . 
Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu  and  the  Kit-Kats 
Bishop  Butler     ...... 

Wolsey  in  Chancery  Lane  .... 

Izaak  Walton's  House         .... 

Old  Serjeants'  Ir.n      ..... 

Hazlitt 

Clifford's  Inn      ...... 

Execution  of  Tonikins  and  Challoner  . 
Roasting  the  Rumps  in  Fleet  Street  (from  an  old  Prin 
Interior  of  the  Moravian  Chapel  in  Fetter  Lane 
House  said  to  have  been  occupied  by  Dryden  in  Fetter 

Lane  .  ^       . 
A  Meeting  of  the  Royal  Society  in  Crane  Court 
The  Royal  Society's  House  in  Crane  Court 
Theodore  E.  Hook     ..... 

Dr.  Johnson's  House  in  Bolt  Court 

A  Tea  Party  at  Dr.  Johnson's     . 

Gough  Square    ...... 

Wine  Office  Court  and  the  "Cheshire  Cheese" 
Cogers'  Hall       .         .         .         .         ^         . 

Lovelace  in  Prison      ..... 

Bangor  House,  1818 

Old  St.  Dunstan's  Church  .... 
The  Dorset  Gardens  Theatre,  Whitefriars   , 
Attack  on  a  Whig  Mug-house     , 
Fleet  Street,  the  Temple,  &c.,  1563    . 
FJeet  Street,  the  Temple,  &-.-.,  1720    . 


PAGE 

Frontispiece 
6 


t) 


7 
12 

13 
15 
18 

19 
24 

25 
30 
31 
36 
37 
42 
43 
48 

49 
54 
55 
60 
61 
66 
67 
72 

73 
78 
79 
84 

85 
90 

91 
96 

97 

102 
103 
108 
109 
114 

"5 
120 
121 
126 
127 
132 
133 
138 
139 
144 

I4S 


A  Knight  Templar 

Interior  of  the  Temple  Church    . 

Tombs  of  Knights  Templars 

The  Temple  in  1671  . 

The  Old  Hall  of  the  Inner  Temple 

Antiquities  of  the  Temple  .... 

Oliver  Goldsmith        ..... 

Goldsmith's  Tomb  in  i860 

The  Temple  Fountain,  from  an  Old  Print   . 

A  Scuffle  between  Templars  and  Alsatians 

Sun-dial  in  the  Temple       .... 

The  Temple  Stairs      ..... 

The  Murder  of  Turner         .... 

Bridewell,  as  Rebuilt  after  tbe  Fire,  fi-om  an  01 

Beating  Hemp  in  Bridewell,  after  Hogarth  . 

Interior  of  the  Duke's  Theatre     . 

Baynard's  Castle,  from  a  View  published  in  1790 

Falling-in  of  the  Chapel  at  Blackfriars 

Richard  Burbage,  from  an  Original  Portrait 

Laying  the  Foundation-stolie  of  Blackfriars  B 

Printing  House  Square  and  the  "Times"  Office 

Blackfriars  Old  Bridge  during  its  Construction,  i 

The  College  of  Physicians,  Wanvick  Lane  . 

Outer  Court  of  La  Belle  Sauvage  in  1828     . 

The  Inner  Court  of  the  Belle  Sauvage 

The  Mutilated  Statues  from  Lud  Gate,  1798 

Old  Lud  Gate,  from  a  Print  published  about 

Ruins  of  the  Barbican  on  Ludgate  Hill 

Interior  of  Stationers'  Hall 

Old  St.  Paul's,  from  a  View  by  Hollar 

Old  St.  Paul's — the  Interior,  looking  East 

The  Church  of  St.  Faith,  the  Crypt  of  Old  St 

St.  Paul's  after  the  Fall  of  the  Spire    . 

The  Chapter  House  of  Old  St.  Paul's 

Dr.  Bourne  preaching  at  Paul's  Cross 

The  Rebuilding  of  St.  Paul's 

The  Choir  of  St.  Paul's       .... 

The  Scaffolding  and  Observatoiy  on  St.  Paul's  ii 

St.  Paul's  and  the  Neighbourhood  in  1540  . 

The  Library  of  St.  Paul's   .... 

The  "Face  in  the  Straw,"  1613  . 

Execution  of  Father  Garnet 

Old  St.  Paul's  School         .... 

Richard  Tarleton,  the  Actor 

Dolly's  Coffee  House  .... 

The  Figure  in  Panier  Alley 

The  Church  of  St.  Michael  ad  Bladum 

The  Prerogative  Office,  Doctors'  Commons 

St.  Paul's  and  Neighbourhood,  from  Aggas'  Plan, 

Heralds'  College  (from  an  Old  Print) 

The  Last  Pleraldic  Court  (from  an  Old  Picture) 


:Ige 


Print 


r/So 


Paul': 


1848 


1563 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


1793 


Sword,  Dagger,  and  Ring  of  King  James  of  Scotland 
Linacre's  House  ..... 

Ancient  View  of  Cheapside. 
Beginning  of  the  Riot  in  Cheapside     . 
Cheapside  Cross,  as  it  appeared  in  1547 
The  Lord  Mayor's  Procession,  from  Hogarth 
The  Marriage  Procession  of  Anne  Boleyn    . 
Figures  of  Gog  and  Magog  set  up  in  Guildhall 
The  Royal  Banquet  in  Guildhall  in  1761 
The  Lord  Mayor's  Coach    .... 

The  Derriolition  of  Cheapside  Cro««     . 

Old  Map  of  the  Ward  of  Cheap — about  1 750 

The  Seal  of  Bow  Church     .... 

Bow  Church,  Cheapside,  from  a  View  taken  about  1750 

No.  73,  Cheapside,  from  an  Old  View 

The  Door  of  Saddlers'  Hall 

Milton's  House  and  Milton's  Burial-place    . 

Interior  of  Goldsmiths'  Hall 

Trial  of  the  Pix  ...... 

Exterior  of  Goldsmiths'  Hall 

Altar  of  Diana   ...... 

Wood  Street  Compter,  from  a  View  published  in 
The  Tree  at  the  Comer  of  Wood  Street 
Pulpit  Hour-glass       ..... 

Interior  of  St.  Michael's,  Wood  Street 
Interior  of  Haberdashers'  Hall    . 
The  "  Swan  with  Two  Necks,"  Lad  Lane  . 
City  of  London  School        .... 

Mercers'  Chapel,  as  Rebuilt  after  the  Fire    . 
The  Crypt  of' Guildhall       .... 

The  Court  of  Aldermen,  Guildhall 

Old  Front  of  Guildhall        .... 

The  New  Library,  Guildhall 

Sir  Richard  Whittington     .... 

Whittington's  Almshouses,  College  Hill 
Osborne's  Leap ...... 

A  Lord  Mayor  and  his  Lady 

Wilkes  on  his  Trial     ..... 

Birch's  Shop,  Cornhill         .         .        ' . 

The  Stocks'  Market,  Site  of  the  Mansion  House 

John  Wilkes 

The  Poultry  Compter  .... 

Richard  Porson  ...... 

Sir  R.  Clayton's  House,  Garden  Front 

Exterior  of  Grocers'  Hall    . 

Interior  of  Grocers'  Hall     .... 

The  Mansion  House  Kitchen 


P.\GE 

300 
301 

307 
312 

313 
31S 
319 
324 
325 
.  330 
33' 
336 
337 
342 
343 
348 
349 
354 
355 
360 
361 
366 
367 
370 
372 
373 
378 
379 
384 
38s 
390 
391 
396 
397 
402 

403 
408 
409 
414 

415 
420 
421 
426 

427 
432 
433 
438 


The  Mansion  House  in  1750 

Interior  of  the  Egyptian  Hall 

The  "Maria  Wood" 

Broad  Street  and  Cornhill  Wards 

Lord  Mayor's  Water  Procession 

The  Old  Bank,  looking  from  the  Mansion  House 

Old  Patch 

The  Bank  Parlour,  Exterior  View 
Dividend  Day  at  the  Bank  . 
The  Church  of  St.  I'enet  Fink    . 
Court  of  the  Bank  of  England     . 
"Jonathan's,"  from  an  Old  Sketch 
Capel  Court        ..... 

The  Clearing  House  .... 

The  Present  Stock  Exchange 

On  Change  (from  an  Old  Print,  about  1800) 

Inner  Court  of  the  First  Royal  Exchange 

Sir  Thomas  Gresham 

Wren's  Plan  for  Rebuilding  London    . 

Plan  of  the  Exchange  in  1837     . 

The  First  Royal  Exchange 

The  .Second  Royal  Exchange,  Cornhill 

The  Present  Royal  Exchange 

Blackwell  Hall  in  181 2 

Interior  of  Lloyd's      .... 

The  Subscription  Room  at  "Lloyd's" 

Interior  of  Drapers'  Ilall     . 

Drapers'  Hall  Garden 

Cromwell's  House,  from  Aggas's  Map 

Pope's  House,  Plough  Court,  Lombard  Street 

St.  Mary  Woolnoth    .... 

Interior  of  Merchant  Taylors'  Hall 

Ground  Plan  of  the  Church  of  St.  Martin  Outwich 

March  of  the  Archers 

The  Old  South  Sea  House 

London  Stone    ..... 

The  Fourth  Salters'  Hall    . 
Cordwainers'  Hall       .... 

St.  Antholin's  Cimrch,  Watling  Street 

The  Crypt  of  Gerard's  Hall 

Old  Sign  cf  the  "  Boar's  Head  " 

Exterior* of  St.  Stephen's,  Walbrook,  in  1700 

The  Weigh-house  Chapel    . 

Miles  Coverdale  .... 

Wren's  Original  Design  for  tlie  Summit  of  the  Monu 
ment   ........ 

The  Monument  and  the  Church  of  St.  Magnus,  1800 


439 
444 
445 
450 
451 
456 

457 
462 

463 
468 
40-9 
472 
474 
475 
481 
487 
492 

493 
496 

497 
49S 

499 
504 
505 
510 
511 
516 
5'7 
520 

523 
528 
529 
534 
535 
540 
541 
546 
547 
552 
553 
558 
559 
564 
565 

570 
571 


ERR  A  TA. 


Page    53,  col.  I,  line  12  from  bottom.^r  "  Watt's,"  read  "  Watts." 
,,     206,  col.  2,  line  \o,for  "eight  arches,"  read  "  nine  arches." 
„     261.    The  date  of  the  anniversary  of  the  Charity  Schools  has  since 

been  altered. 
jt     377>  col.  I,  line  2g,Jbr  "  1321,"  read  "  1329." 
,,        ,.       ,,       line  3o,y<;r  "  Elsgup,"  r-^arf  "  Elsing."' 
„     400,  col.  I,  line  ig,y~or  "  Richard,"  rcMi  "  Edmund." 


Page  400,  col.  I,  line  2%,  for  "Walter,"  read  "  Wiliam." 
„        „        „      line  42,_/^?"  "  1500,"  ^-^i^rf  "  1505." 
,,        ,,    col.  2,  line  2^,/or  "  Paxton,"  read  "  Paston." 
,,     404,  col.  I,  line  10  from  bottom,  y^^r  "  Peninsula,"  read  "  Penin.- 

siilar." 
,,    416,  col.  2.     The  inscription  on  the  Monument  was  really  erased  in 
1831. 


iii!liii«^ 


j!!iiilli!iilJili;,„ 


«» 


London  as  it  was  and  as  it  is. 


RITING  the  history  of  a  vast  city  like  London  is  Hke  writing 
a  history  of  the  ocean — the  area  is  so  vast,  its  inhabitants  are 
so  multifarious,  the  treasures  that  lie  in  its  dept!.,  ^o  countless. 
What  aspect  of  the  great  chameleon  city  should  one  select  ? 
for,  as  Boswell,  with  more  than  his  usual  sense,  once  re- 
marked, "  London  is  to  the  politician  merely  a  seat  of  govern- 
ment, to  the  grazier  a  cattle  market,  to  the  merchant  a  huge 
exchange,  to  the  dramatic  enthusiast  a  congeries  of  theatres, 
to  the  man  of  pleasure  an  assemblage  of  taverns."  If  we  follow 
one  path  alone,  we  must  neglect  other  roads  equally  important ; 
let  us,  then,  consider  the  metropolis  as  a  whole,  for,  as 
Johnson's  friend  well  says,  "  the  intellectual  man  is  struck 
with  London  as  comprehending  the  whole  of  human  life  in 
all  its  variety,  the  contemplation  of  which  is  inexhaustible." 
In  histories,  in  biographies,  in  scientific  records,  and  in 
chronicles  of  the  past,  however  humble,  let  us  gather  mate- 
rials for  a  record  of  the  great  and  the  wise,  the  base  and  the 
noble,  the  odd  and  the  witty,  who  have  inhabited  London  asd 
left  their  names  upon  its  walls.  Wherever  the  glimmer  of  the 
cross  of  St.  Paul's  can  be  seen  we  shall  wander  from  street 
to  alley,  from  alley  to  street,  noting  almost  every  event  of 
interest  that  has  taken  place  there  since  London  was  a  cHy. 


OLD  AND   NEW   LONDON. 


Had  it  been  our  lot  to  write  of  London  before 
the  Great  Fire,  we  should  have  only  had  to  visit 
65,000  houses.  If  ia  Dr.  Johnson's  time,  we 
might  have  done  like  energetic  Dr.  Birch,  and  have 
perambulated  the  twenty-mile  circuit  of  London  in 
six  hours'  hard  walking ;  but  who  now  could  put  a 
girdle  round  the  metropolis  in  less  than  double 
that  time  ?  The  houses  now  grow  by  streets  at  a 
time,  and  the  nearly  four  million  inhabitants  would 
take  a  lifetime  to  study.  Addison  probably  knew 
something  of  London  when  he  called  it  "an 
aggregate  of  various  nations,  distinguished  from 
each  other  by  their  respective  customs,  manners, 
and  interests — the  St.  James's  courtiers  from  the 
Cheapside  citizens,  the  Temple  lawyers  from  the 
Smithfield  drovers;"  but  what  would  the  Spectator 
say  now  to  the  168,701  domestic  servants,  the 
23,517  tailors,  the  18,321  carpenters,  the  29,780 
dressmakers,  the  7,002  seamen,  the  4,861  pub- 
Hcans,  the  6,716  blacksmiths,  &c.,  to  which  the 
population  returns  of  thirty  years  ago  depose,  whom 
he  would  have  to  observe  and  visit  before  he  could 
say  he  knew  all  the  ways,  oddities,  humours — the 
joys  and  sorrows,  in  fact — of  this  great  centre  of 
civilisation  ? 

The  houses  of  old  London  are  incrusted  as 
thick  with  anecdotes,  legends,  and  traditions  as  an 
old  ship  is  with  barnacles.  Strange  stories  about 
strange  men  grow  like  moss  in  every  crevice 
of  the  bricks.  Let  us,  then,  roll  together  like  a 
great  snowball  the  mass  of  information  that  time 
and  our  predecessors  have  accumulated,  and 
reduce  it  to  some  shape  and  form.  Old  London 
is  passing  away  even  as  we  dip  our  pen  in  the 
inK,  and  V,""  would  fain  erect  quickly  our  itinerant 
photographic  machine,  and  secure  some  views  of  it 
before  it  passes.  Roman  London,  Saxon  London, 
Norman  London,  Elizabethan  London,  Stuart 
London,  Queen  Anne's  London,  we  shall  in  turn 
rifle  to  fill  our  museum,  on  whose  shelves  the 
Roman  lamp  and  the  vessel  fulL^of  tears  •will  stand 
side  by  side  with  Vanessas'  fan ;  the  sword-knot  of 
Rochester  by,  the  note-book  of  Goldsmith.  The 
history  of  London  is  an  epitome  of  the  history  of 
England.  Few  great  men  indeed  that  England 
has  produced  but  have  some  associations  that 
connect  them  with  London.  To  be  able  to  recall 
these  associations  in  a  London  walk  is  a  pleasure 
perpetually  renewing,  and  to  all-  intents  inex- 
haustible. 

Let  us,  then,  at  once,  without  longer  halting  at 
the  gate,  seize  the  pilgrim  staff  and  start  upon  our 
voyage  of  discovery,  through  a  dreamland  that  will  be 
now  Goldsmith's,  nowGower's,  now  Shakespeare's, 
now  Pope's,  London. .   In  Cannon  Street,  by  the 


old  central  milestone  of  London,  grave  Romans 
will  meet  us  and  talk  of  Cxsar  and  his  legions.  In 
Fleet  Street  we  shall  come  upon  Chaucer  beating 
the  malapert  Franciscan  friar  ;  at  Temple  Bar,  stare 
upwards  a-t  the  ghastly  Jacobite  heads.  In  Smith- 
field  we  shall  meet  Froissart's  knights  riding  to  the 
tournament ;  in  the  Strand  see  the  misguided  Earl 
of  Essex  defending  his  house  against  Queen  EHza- 
beth's  troops,  who  are  turning  towards  him  the 
cannon  on  the  roof  of  St.  Clement's  church. 

But  let  us  first,  rather  than  glance  at  scattered 
pictures  in  a  gallery  which  is  so  full  of  them^ 
measure  out,  as  it  were,  our  future  walks,  briefly 
glancing  at  tlie  special  doors  where  we  shall 
billet  our  readers.  The  brief  summary  will 
serve  to  broadly  epitomise  the  subject,  and  wiH 
prove  the  ceaseless  variety  of  interest  which  it 
involves. 

We  have  selected  Temple  Bar,  that  old  gateway, 
as  a  point  of  departure,  because  it  is  the  centre,  as 
near  as  can  be,  of  historical  London,  and  is  in 
itself  full  of  interest.  We  begin  with  it  as  a  rude 
wooden  building,  which,  after  the  Great  Fire,  Wren 
turned  into  the  present  arch  of  stone,  with  a  room 
above,  where  Messrs.  Childs,  die  bankers,  store  their 
books  and  archives.  The  heads  of  some  of  the 
Rye  House  conspirators,  in  Charles  II. 's  time,  first 
adorned  the  Bar;  and  after  that,  one  aft-er  the  other, 
many  rash  Jacobite  heacls,  in  17 15  and  1745,  arrived 
at  the  same  bad  eminence.  In  many  a  royal  pro- 
cession and  many  a  City  riot,  this  gate  has  figured 
as  a  halting-place  and  a  point  of  defence.  The  last 
rebel's  head  blew  down  in  1772  ;  and  the  last  spike 
was  not  removed  till  the  beginning  of  the  present 
century.  In  the  Popish  Plot  days  of  Charles  II. 
vast  processions  used  to  come  to  Temple  Bar  to 
illuminate  the  supposed  statue  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 
in  the  south-east  niche  (though  it  probably  really 
represents  Anne  of  Denmark)  ;  and  at  great  bonfires 
at  the  Temple  gate  the  frenzied  people  burned 
effigies  of  the  Pope,  while  thousands  of  squibs 
were  discharged,  with  shouts  that  frightened  the 
Popish  Portuguese  Queen,  at  that  time  living  at 
Somerset  House,  forsaken  by  her  dissolute  scape- 
grace of  a  husband. 

Turning  our  faces  now  towards  the  old  black  dome 
that  rises  like  a  half-ecHpsed  planet' over  Ludgate 
Hill,  we  first  pass  along  Fleet  Street,  a  locaHty  full 
to  overflowing  with  ancient  memorials,  and  in  its 
modern  aspect  not  less  interesting.  This  street  has 
been  from  time  immemorial  the  high  road  for  royal 
processions.  Richard  11.  has  passed  along  here  to 
St.  Paul's,  his  parti-coloured  robes  jingling  with 
golden  bells ;  and  Queen  Elizabeth,  be-ruffled  and 
be-fardingaled,  has  glanced  at  those  gable-ends  east 


^' 


Old   and   New   London. 


FLEET  STREET  AND   CHANCERY  LANE. 


of  St.  Dunstan's,  as  she  rode  in  her  cumbrous 
plumed  coach  to  thank  God  at  St.  Paul's  for  the 
scattering  and  shattering  of  the  Armada.  Here 
Cromwell,  a  king  in  all  but  name  and  twice  a  king 
by  nature,  received  the  keys  of  the  City,  as  he  rode 
to  Guildhall  to  preside  at  the  banquet  of  the  obse- 
quious Mayor.  William  of  Orange  and  Queen  Anne 
both  clattered  over  these  stones  to  return  thanks 
for  victories  over  the  French  ;  and  old  George  IH. 
honoured  the  street  when,  with  his  handsome  but 
worthless  son,  he  came  to  thank  God  for  his  partial 
restoration  from  that  darker  region  than  the  valley 
of  the  shadow  of  death,  insanity.  We  recall  many 
odd  and  pleasant  figures  in  this  street ;  first  the  old 
printers  who  succeeded  Caxton,  who  published  for 
Shakespeare  or  who  timidly  speculated  in  Milton's 
epic,  that  great  product  of  a  sorry  age  ;  next,  the 
©Id  bankers,  who,  at  Child's  and  Hoare's,  laid  the 
foundations  of  permanent  wealth,  and  from  simple 
City  goldsmiths  were  gradually  transformed  to  great 
capitalists.  Izaak  Walton,  honest  shopkeeper  and 
patient  angler,  eyes  us  from  his  latticed  window 
near  Chancery  Lane ;  and  close  by  Ave  see  the 
child  Cowley  reading  the  "  Fairy  Queen"  in  a 
window-seat,  and  already  feeling  in  himself  the 
inspiration  of  his  later  years.  The  lesser  celebrities 
of  later  times  call  to  us  as  we  pass.  Garrick's  friend 
Hardham,  of  the  snuff-shop ;  and  that  busy,  vain 
demagogue.  Alderman  Waithman,  whom  Cobbett 
abused  because  he  was  not  zealous  enough  for 
poor  hunted  Queen  Caroline.  Then  there  is 
the  shop  where  barometers  were  first  sold,  the 
great  watchmakers,  Tompion  and  Pinchbeck,  to 
chronicle,  and  the  two  churches  to  notice.  St. 
Dunstan's  is  interesting  for  its  early  preachers,  the 
good  Romaine  and  the  pious  Baxter ;  and  St.  Bride's 
has  anecdotes  and  legends  of  its  own,  and  a  peal 
of  bells  which  have  in  their  time  excited  as  much 
admiration  as  those  giant  hammermen  at  the  old 
St.  Dunstan's  clock,  which  are  now  in  Regent's 
Park.  The  neAvspaper  offices,  too,  furnish  many 
curious  illustrations  of  the  progress  of  that  great 
organ  of  modern  civilisation,  the  press.  At  the 
"  Devil "  we  meet  Ben  Jonson  and  his  club  ;  and  at 
John  Murray's  old  shop  we  stop  to  see  Byron  lunging 
with  his  stick  at  favourite  volumes  on  the  shelves, 
to  the  bookseller's  great  but  concealed  annoyance. 
Nor  do  we  forget  to  sketch  Dr.  Johnson  at 
Temple  Bar,  bantering  his  fellow  Jacobite,  Gold- 
smith, about  the  warning  heads  upon  the  gate;  at 
Child's  bank  pausing  to  observe  the  dinnerless 
authors  returning  downcast  at  the  rejection  of 
brilliant  but  fruitless  proposals;  or  stopping  with 
Boswell,  one  hand  .upon  a  street  post,  to  shake  the 
night  air  with  his  Cyclopean  laughter.  Varied  as  the 


colours  in  a  kaleidoscope  are  the  figures  thatc^will 
meet  us  in  these  perambulations;  mutable  as  an 
opal  are  the  feelings  they  arouse.  To  the  man  of 
facts  they  furnish  facts  ;  to  the  man  of  imagination, 
quick-changing  fancies ;  to  the  man  of  science, 
curious  memoranda ;  to  the  historian,  bright-worded 
details,  that  vivify  old  pictures  now  often  dim 
in  tone ;  to  the  man  of  the  world,  traits  of  manners  ; 
to  the  general  thinker,  aspects  of  feelings  and  of 
passions  which  expand  the  knowledge  of  human 
nature ;  for  all  these  many-coloured  stones  are 
joined  by  the  one  golden  string  of  London's 
history. 

But  if  Fleet  Street  itself  is  rich  in  associations, 
its  side  streets,  north  and  south,  are  yet  richer. 
Here  anecdote  and  story  are  clustered  in  even  closer 
compass.  In  these  side  binns  lies  hid  the  choicest 
wine,  for  when  Fleet  Street  had,  long  since,  become 
two  vast  rows  of  shops,  authors,  wits,  poets,  and 
memorable  persons  of  all  kinds,  still  inhabited 
the  "closes  "  and  alleys  that  branch  from  the  main 
thoroughfare.  Nobles  and  lawyers  long  dwelt  round 
St.  Dunstan's  and  St.  Bride's.  Scholars,  poets, 
and  literati  of  all  kind,  long  sought  refuge  from  the 
grind  and  busy  roar  of  commerce  in  the  quiet  inns 
and  "  closes,"  north  and  south.  In  what  was  Shire 
Lane  we  come  upon  the  great  Kit-Kat  Club, 
where  Addison,  Garth,  Steele,  and  Congreve  dis- 
ported ;  and  we  look  in  on  that  very  evening  when 
the  Duke  of  Kingston,  with  fatherly  pride,  brought 
his  little  daughter,  afterwards  Lady  Mary  Wortley 
Montagu,  and,  setting  her  on  the  table,  proposed 
her  as  a  toast.  Following  the  lane  doAvn  till  it 
becomes  a  nest  of  coiners,  thieves,  and  bullies,  we 
pass  on  to  Bell  Yard,  to  call  on  Pope's  lawyer 
friend,  Fortescue  ;  and  in  Chancery  Lane  we  are 
deep  among  the  lawyers  again.  Ghosts  of  Jarn- 
dyces  v.  Jarndyces,  from  the  Middle  Ages  down- 
wards, haunt  this  thoroughfare,  where  Wolsey  once 
lived  in  his  pride  and  state.  Izaak  Walton  dwelt  in 
this  lane  once  upon  a  time ;  and  that  mischievous 
adviser  of  Charles  I.,  Earl  Strafford,  was  born 
here.  Hazlitt  resided  in  Southampton  Buildings 
when  he  fell  in  love  with  the  tailor's  daughter  and 
wrote  that  most  stultifying  confession  of  his  vanity 
and  weakness,  "  The  New  Pygmalion."  Fetter  Lane 
brings  us  fresh  stores  of  .subjects,  all  essentially 
connected  with  the  place,  deriving  an  interest  from 
and  imparting  a  new  interest  to  it.  Praise-God- 
Barebones,  Dryden,  Otway,  Baxter,  and  Mrs.  Brown- 
rigg  form  truly  a  strange  bouquet.  By  mutual 
contrast  the  incongruous  group  serves,  however,  to 
illustrate  various  epochs  of  London  life,  and  the 
background  serves  to  explain  the  actions  and  the 
social  position  of  each  and  all  these  motley  beings. 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


In  Crane  Court,  the  early  home  of  the  Royal 
Society,  Newton  is  the  central  personage,  and  we 
tarry  to  sketch  the  progress  of  science  and  to 
smile  at  the  crudity  of  its  early  experiments  and 
theories.  In  Bolt  Court  we  pause  to  see  a  great  man 
die.  Here  especially  Dr.  Johnson's  figure  ever 
stands  like  a  statue,  and  we  shall  find  his  black 
servant  at  the  door  and  his  dependents  wrangling  in 
the  firont  parlour.  Burke  and  Boswell  are  on  their 
way  to  call,  and  Reynolds  is  taking  coach  in  the 
adjoining  street.  Nor  is  even  Shoe  Lane  without  its 
associations,  for  at  the  north-east  end  the  corpse  of 
poor,  dishonoured  Chatterton  lies  still  under  some 
neglected  rubbish  heap ;  and  close  by  the  brilliant 
Cavalier  poet,  Lovelace,  pined  and  perished,  almost 
in  beggary. 

The  southern  side  of  Fleet  Street  is  somewhat 
less  noticeable.  Still,-  in  Salisbury  Square  the 
worthy  old  printer  Richardson,  amid  the  din  of  a 
noisy  office,  wrote  his  great  and  pathetic  novels ; 
while  in  Mitre  Buildings  Charles  Lamb  held  those 
delightful  conversations,  so  full  of  quaint  and 
kindly  thoughts,  which  were  shared  in  by  Hazlitt 
and  all  the  odd  people  Lamb  has  immortalised  in  his 
"Elia" — bibulous  Burney,  George  Dyer,  Holcroft, 
Coleridge,  Hone,  Godwin,  and  Leigh  Hunt. 

Whitefriars  and  Blackfriars  are  our  next  j^laces 
of  pilgrimage,  and  they  open  up  quite  new  lines  of 
reading  and  of  thought.  Though  the  Great  Fire 
swept  them  bare,  no  district  of  London  has  preserved 
its  old  lines  so  closely  ;  and,  walking  in  Whitefriars, 
we  can  still  stare  through  the  gate  that  once  barred 
off  the  brawling  Copper  Captains  of  Charles  II.'s 
Alsatia  firom  the  contemptuous  Templars  of  King's 
Bench  Walk.  \Vhitefriars  was  at  first  a  Carmelite 
convent,  founded,  before  Blackfriars,  on  land  given 
by  Edward  I.;  the  chapter-house  was  given  by  Henry 
VII.  to  his  physician,  Dr.  Butts  (a  man  mentioned 
by  Shakespeare),  and  in  the  reign  of  Edward  VI.  the 
church  was  demolished.  Whitefriars  then,  though 
still  partially  inhabited  by  great  people,  soon 
sank  into  a  sanctuary  for  runaway  bankrupts, 
cheats,  and  gamblers.  The  hall  of  the  monastery 
was  turned  into  a  theatre,  where  many  of  Dryden's 
plays  first  appeared.  The  players  favoured  this 
quarter,  where,  in  the  reign  of  James  I.,  two 
henchmen  of  Lord  Sanquire,  a  revengeful  young 
Scottish  nobleman,  shot  at  his  own  door  a  poor 
fencing-master,  who  had  accidenally  put  out  their 
master's  eye  several  years  before  in  a  contest  of 
skill.  The  two  men  were  hung  opposite  the  White- 
friars gate  in  Fleet  Street  This  disreputable  and 
lawless  nest  of  river-side  ^eys  was  called  Alsatia, 
from  its  resemblance  to  the  seat  of  the  war  then 
raging  oh  the  frontiers  of  France,  in  the  dominions 


of  King  James's  son-in-law,  the  Prince  Palatine. 
Its  roystering  bullies  and  shifty  money-lenders  are 
admirably  sketched  by  Shadwell  in  his  Squire  of 
Alsatia,  an  excellent  comedy  freely  used  by  Sir 
Walter  Scott  in  his  "  Fortunes  of  Nigel,"  who  has 
laid  several  of  his  strongest  scenes  in  this  once 
scampish  region.  That  great  scholar  Selden  lived 
in  "Wliitefriars  with  the  Countess  Dowager  of 
Kent,  whom  he  was  supposed  to  have  married  ; 
and,  singularly  enough,  the  best  edition  of  his 
works  was  printed  in  Dogwell  Court,  Whitefriars, 
by  those  eminent  printers,  Bowyer  &  Son.  At 
the  back  of  Whitefriars  we  come  upon  Bridewell, 
the  site  of  a  palace  of  the  Norman  kings. 
Cardinal  Wolsey  afterwards  owned  the  house, 
which  Henry  VIII.  reclaimed  in  his  rough  and  not 
very  scrupulous  manner.  It  was  the  old  palace  to 
which  Henry  summoned  all  the  priors  and  abbots 
of  England,  and  where  he  first  announced  his 
intention  of  divorcing  Katherine  of  Arragon.  After 
this  it  fell  into  decay.  The  good  Ridley,  the 
martyr,  begged  it  of  Edward  VI.  for  a  workhouse 
and  a  school.  Hogarth  painted  tlie  female  pri- 
soners here  beating  hemp  under  the  lash  of  a 
cruel  turnkey ;  and  Pennant  has  left  a  curious 
sketch  of  the  herd  of  girls  whom  he  saw  run  like 
hounds  to  be  fed  when  a  gaoler  entered. 

If  Wliitefriars  was  inhabited  by  actors,  Black- 
friars was  equally  favoured  by  players  and  by 
painters.  The  old  convent,  removed  from  Hol- 
bom,  was  often  used  for  Parliaments.  Charles  V. 
lodged  here  when  he  came  over  to  win  Henry 
against  Francis ;  and  Burbage,  the  great  player  of 
"  Richard  the  Third,"  built  a  theatre  in  Blackfriars, 
because  the  Precinct  was  out  of  the  jurisdiction 
of  the  City,  then  ill-disposed  to  the  players. 
Shakespeare  had  a  house  here,  which  he  left  to 
his  favourite  daughter,  the  deed  of  conveyance  of 
which  sold,  in  1841,  for  ^165  15s.  He  mivst  have 
thought  of  his  well-known  neighbourhood  when  he 
wrote  the  scenes  of  Henry  VIII.,  where  Katherine 
was  divorced  and  Wolsey  fell,  for  both  events  were 
decided  in  Blackfriars  Parliaments.  Oliver,  the  gieat 
miniature  painter,  and  Jansen,  a  favourite  portrait 
painter  of  James  I.,  lived  in  Blackfriars,  where  we 
shall  call  upon  them ;  and  Vandyke  spent  nine 
happy  years  here  by  the  river  side.  The  nwst 
remarkable  event  connected  with  Blackfriars  is  the 
falling  in  of  the  floor  of  a  Roman  Catholic  private 
chapel  in  1623,  by  which  fifty-nine  persons 
perished,  including  the  priest,  to  the  exultation  of 
the  Puritans,  who  pronounced  the  event  a  visitation 
of  Heaven  on  Popish  supers titiojQ.  Pamplilets  of 
die  time,  well  rummaged  by  us,  describe  the  scene 
with  ciuious  exactness,  and  mention  the  singular 


LEGENDS    OF   ST.    PAUL'S. 


escapes  of  several  persons  on- the  ''Fatal  Vespers," 
as  they  werfe  afterwards  called. 

Leaving  the  racket  of  Alsatia  and  its  wild 
doings  behind  us,  we  come  next  to  that  great 
monastery  of  lawyers,  the  Temple — like  Whitefriars 
and  Blackfriars,  also  the  site  of  a  bygone  convent. 
The  warlike  Templars  came  here  in  their  white 
cloaks  and  red  crosses  from  their  first  establishment 
in  Southampton  Buildings,  and  they  held  it  during 
all  the  Crusades,  in  which  they  fought  so  valorously 
against  the  Paynim,  till  they  grew  proud  and  cor- 
rupt, and  were  suspected  of  worshipping  idols  and 
ridiculing  Christianity.  Their  work  done,  they 
perished,  and  the  Knights  of  St.  John  took  posses- 
sion of  their  halls,  church,  and  cloisters.  The  in- 
coming lawyers  became  tenants  of  the  Crown,  and 
the  parade-ground  of  the  Templars  and  the  river-side 
terrace  and  gardens  were  tenanted  by  more  peaceful 
occupants.  The  manners  and  customs  of  the  lawyers 
of  various  ages,  their  quaint  revels,  fox-huntings  in 
hall,  and  dances  round  the  coal  fire,  deserve 
special  notice ;  and  swarms  of  anecdotes  and  odd 
sayings  and  doings  buzz  round  us  as  we  write 
of  the  various  denizens  of  the  Temple — Dr.  John- 
son, Goldsmith,  Lamb,  Coke,  Plowden,  Jeiferies, 
Cowper,  Butler,  Parsons,  Sheridan,  and  Tom 
Moore ;  and  we  linger  at  the  pretty  little  fount- 
ain and  think  of  those  who  have  celebrated  its 
praise.  Every  binn  of  this  cellar  of  lawyers  has  its 
story,  and  a  volume  might  well  be  written  in  record- 
ing the  toils  and  struggles,  successes  and  failures,  of 
the  illustrious  owners  of  Temple  chambers. 

Thence  we  pass  to  Ludgate,  where  that  old 
London  inn,  the  "  Belle  Sauvage,"  calls  up  associa- 
tions of  the  early  days  of  theatres,  especially  of  Banks 
and  his  wonderful  performing  horse,  that  walked  up 
one  of  the  towers  of  Old  St.  Paul's.  Hone's  old 
shop  reminds  us  of  the  delightful  books  he  published, 
aided  by  Lamb  and  Leigh  Hunt.  The  old  entrance 
of  the  City,  Ludgate,  has  quite  a  history  of  its  own. 
It  was  a  debtors'  prison,  rebuilt  in  the  time  of 
King  John  from  the  remains  of  demolished  Jewish 
houses,  and  was  enlarged  by  the  Tisadow  of  Stephen 
Forster,  Lord  Mayor  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VI., 
who,  tradition  says,  had  been  himself  a  prisoner  in 
Ludgate,  till  released  by  a  rich  widow,  who  saw  his 
handsome  face  through  the  grate  and  married  him. 
St.  Martin's  church,  Ludgate,  is  one  of  Wren's 
churches,  and  is  chiefly  remarkable  for  its  stolid 
conceit  in  always  getting  in  the  way  of  the  west 
front  of  St.  Paul's. 

The  great  Cathedral  has  been  the  scene  of  events 
that  illustrate  almost  eve'ry  age  of  EngKsh  histor>'. 
This  is  the  third  St.  Paul's.  The  first,  falsely  sup- 
posed to  have  been  built  on  the  site  of  a  Roman 


temple  of  Diana,  was  burnt  down  in  the  last  year 
of  William  the  Conqueror.  Innumerable  events 
connected  with  the  history  of  the  City  happened 
here,  from  the  kiUing  a  bishop  at  the  north  door,  in 
the  reign  of  Edward  II.,  to  the  public  exposure  of 
Richard  II.'s  body  after  his  murder;  while  at  the 
Cross  in  the  churchyard  the  authorities  of  the  City, 
and  even  our  kings,  often  attended  thepublic  sermons, 
and  in  the  same  place  the  citizens  once  held  their 
Folkmotes,  riotous  enough  on  many  an  occasion. 
Great  men's  tombs  abounded  in  Old  St.  Paul's — ^John 
of  Gaunt,  Lord  Bacon's  father.  Sir  Philip  Sydney, 
Donne,  the  poet,  and  Vandyke  being  very  prominent 
among  them.  Fired  by  lightning  in  EUzabeth's 
reign,  when  the  Cathedral  had  become  a  resort  of 
newsmongers  and  a  thoroughfare  for  porters  and 
carriers,  it  was  partly  rebuilt  in  Charles  I.'s  reign  by 
Inigo  Jones.  The  repairs  were  stopped  by  the  civil 
wars,  when  the  Puritans  seized  the  funds,  pulled 
down  the  scaffolding,  and  turned  the  church  into 
a  cavalry  barracks.  The  Great  Fire  swept  all  clear 
for  Wren,  who  now  found  a  fine  field  for  his  genius ; 
but  vexatious  difficulties  embarrassed  him  at  the 
very  outset.  His  first  gi-eat  plan  was  rejected,  and 
the  Duke  of  York  (aftenvards  James  II.)  is  said  to 
have  insisted  on  side  recesses,  that  might  serve  as 
chantry  chapels  when  the  church  became  Roman 
Catholic.  Wren  was  accused  of  delays  and  chidden 
for  the  faults  of  petty  workmen,  and,  as  the  Duchess 
of  Marlborough  laughingly  remarked,  was  dragged  up 
and  down  in  a  basket  two  or  three  times  a  week  for 
a  paltry  ;^2ooa  year.  The  narrow  escape  of  Sir  James 
Thomhill  from  falling  from  a  scaffold  while  painting 
the  dome  is  a  tradition  of  St.  Paul's,  matched  by 
the  terrible  adventure  of  Mr.  G\vyn,  who  when 
measuring  the  dome  slid  down  the  convex  surface 
till  his  foot  was  stayed  by  a  small  projecting  lump 
of  lead.  This  leads  us  naturally  on  to  the  curious 
monomaniac  who  believed  himself  the  slave  of  a 
demon  who  lived  in  the  bell  of  the  Cathedral,  and 
whose  case  is  singularly  deserving  of  analysis.  We 
shall  give  a  short  sketch  of  the  heroes  whose  tombs 
have  been  admitted  into  St.  Paul's,  and  having  come 
to  those  of  the  great  demi-gods  of  the  old  wars. 
Nelson  and  Wellington,  pass  to  anecdotes  about 
the  clock  and  bells,  and  arrive  at  the  singular  story 
of  the  soldier  whose  life  was  saved  by  his  proving 
that  he  had  heard  St.  Paul's  clock  strike  thirteen. 
Queen  Anne's  statue  in  the  churchyard,  too,  has 
given  rise  to  epigrams  worthy  of  preservation,  and 
the  progress  of  the  restoration  will  be  careftilly 
detailed. 

Cheapside,  famous  from  the  Saxon  days,  next 
invites  our  wandering  feet.  The  north  side  re- 
mained an  open  field  as  late  as  Edward  III.'s  reign, 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


and  tournaments  were  held  there.  The  knights, 
whose  deeds  Froissart  has  immortalised,  broke 
spears  there,  in  the  presence  of  the  Queen  and  her 
ladies,  who  smiled  on  their  champions  from  a 
wooden  tower  erected  across  the  street  Afterwards 
A  stone  shed  was  raised  for  the  same  sights,  and 


rising,  who  was  besieged  there,  and  eventuaUy 
burned  out  and  put  to  death.  The  great  Cross  of 
Cheapside  recalls  many  interesting  associations,  for 
it  was  one  of  the  nine  Eleanor  crosses.  Regilt 
for  many  coronations,  it  was  eventuaWy  pulled 
down  by  the  Puritans  during  the  civil  wars.     Then 


THE   OLD   WOODEN   TEMPLE   BAR   (sce  page  2). 


there  Henry  VI IL,  disguised  as  a  yeoman,  with 
a  halbert  on  his  shoulder,  came  on  one  occasion  to 
see  the  great  City  procession  of  the  night  watch 
by  torchlight  on  St.  John's  Eve.  Wren  afterwards, 
when  he  rebuilt  Bow  Church,  provided  a  balcony  in 
the  tower  for  the  Royal  Family  to  witness  similar 
pageants.  Old  Bow  Church,  we  must  not  forget  to 
record,  was  seized  in  the  reign  of  Richard  I.  by 
Longbeard,  the  desperate  ringleader  of  a  Saxon 


there  was  the  Standard,  near  Bow  Church,  where 
Wat  Tyler  and  Jack  Cade  beheaded  several  objec- 
tionable nobles  and  citizens ;  and  the  great 
Conduit  at  the  east  end— each  with  its  memorable 
history.  But  the  great  feature  of  Cheapside  is, 
after  all,  Guildhall.  This  is  the  hall  that  Whit- 
tington  paved  and  where  Walworth  once  ruled. 
In  Guildhall  Lady  Jane  Grey  and  her  husband 
were  tried ;  here  the  Jesuit  Garnet  was  arraigned 


THE   CITY  AND  ITS  MEMORIES. 


■«^ 


8 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


for  his  share  in  the  Gunpowder  Plot ;  here  it  was 
Charles  I.  appealed  to  the  Common  Council  to 
arrest  Hampden  and  the  other  patriots  who  had 
fled  from  his  eager  claws  into  the  friendly  City ; 
and  here,  in  the  spot  still  sacred  to  liberty,  the 
Lords  and  Parliament  declared  for  the  Prince  of 
Orange.  To  pass  this  spot  without  some  salient 
anecdotes  of  the  various  Lord  Mayors  would  be  a 
disgrace  :  and  the  banquets  themselves,  from  that 
of  Whittington,  when  he  threw  Henry  V.'s  bonds 
for  ;^6o,ooo  into  a  spice  bonfire,  to  those  in  the 
present  reign,  deserve  some  notice  and  comment. 
The  curiosities  of  Guildhall  in  themselves  are 
not  to  be  lightly  passed  over,  for  they  record  many 
vicissitudes  of  the  great  City  ;  and  Gog  and  Magog 
are  personages  of  importance  only  secondary  to 
that  of  Lord  Mayor,  and  not  in  any  way  to  be  dis- 
regarded. The  Mansion  House,  built  in  1789, 
leads  us  to  much  chat  about  "  gold  chains, 
warm  furs,  broad  banners  and  broad  faces  ; "  for  a 
foUo  might  be  well  filled  with  curious  anecdotes  of 
the  Lord  Mayors  of  various  ages — from  Sir  John 
Norman,  who  first  went  in  procession  to  West- 
minster by  water,  to  Sir  John  Shorter  (James  IL), 
who  was  killed  by  a  fall  from  his  horse  as  he  stopped 
at  Newgate,  according  to  custom,  to  take  a  tankard 
of  wine,  nutmeg,  and  sugar.  Tliere  is  a  word  to 
say  of  many  a  celebrity  in  the  long  roll  of  Mayors — 
more  especially  of  Beckford,  who  is  said  to  have 
startled  George  HL  by  a  violent  patriotic  remon- 
strance, and  of  the  notorious  John  Wilkes,  that 
ugly  demagogue,  who  led  the  City  in  many  an 
attack  on  the  King  and  his  unwise  Ministers. 

The  tributaries  of  Cheapside  also  abound  in 
interest,  and  mark  various  stages  in  the  history  of 
the  great  City.  Bread  Street  was  the  bread  market 
of  the  time  of  Edward  I.,  and  is  especially 
honoured  for  being  the  birthplace  of  Milton ;  and 
in  Milk  Street  (the  old  milk  market)  Sir  Thomas 
More  was  born.  Gutter  Lane  reminds  us  of  its 
first  Danish  owner ;  and  many  other  turnings  have 
their  memorable  legends  and  traditions. 

The  Halls  of  the  City  Companies,  the  great  hos- 
pitals, and  Gothic  schools,  will  each  by  turn  detain 
us ;  and  we  shall  not  forget  to  call  at  the  Bank, 
the  South-Sea  House,  and  other  great  proofs  of 
past  commercial  folly  and  present  wealth.  The 
Bank,  projected  by  a  Scotch  theorist  in  1691 
(WiUiam  IH.),  after  many  migrations,  settled  down 
in  Threadneedle  Street  in  1734.  It  has  a  his- 
tory of  its  own,  and  we  shall  see  during  the 
Gordon  Riots  the  old  pewter  inkstands  melted 
down  for  bullets,  and,  prodigy  of  prodigies  !  Wilkes 
himself  rushing  out  to  seize  the  cowardly  ring- 
leaders ! 


By  many  old  houses  of  good  pedigree  and  by 
several  City  churches  worthy  a  visit,  we  come  at 
last  to  the  Monument,  which  Wren  erected  and 
which  Gibber  decorated.  This  pillar,  which  Pope 
compared  to  "  a  tall  bully,"  once  bore  an  inscrip- 
tion that  greatly  offended  the  Court.  It  attributed 
the  Great  Fire  of  London,  which  began  close  by 
there,  to  the  Popish  faction ;  but  the  words  were 
erased  in  1831.  Littleton,  who  compiled  the  Dic- 
tionary, once  wrote  a  Latin  inscription  for  tlie 
Monument,  which  contained  the  names  of  seven 
Lord  Mayors  in  one  word  : — 

"Fordo-Watermanno-Harrisono-Hookero-Vinero- 
Sheldono-Davisonam." 

But  the  learned  production  was,  singularly  enough, 
never  used.  The  word,  which  Littleton  called  "an 
heptastic  vocable,"  comprehended  the  names  of 
the  seven  Lord  Mayors  in  whose  mayoralties  the 
Monument  was  begun,  continued,  and  completed. 

On  London  Bridge  we  might  linger  for  many 
chapters.  The  first  bridge  thrown  over  the  Thames 
was  a  wooden  one,  erected  by  the  nuns  of  St. 
Mary's  Monastery,  a  convent  of  sisters  endowed 
by  the  daughter  of  a  rich  Thames  feriyman.  The 
bridge  figures  as  a  fortified  place  in  the  early  Danish 
invasions,  and  the  Norwegian  Prince  Olaf  nearly 
dragged  it  to  pieces  in  tiying  to  dispossess  the 
Danes,  who  held  it  in  1008.  It  was  swept  away 
in  a  flood,  and  its  successor  was  burnt.  Jn  the 
reign  of  Henry  1 1.,  Pious  Peter,  a  chaplain  of  St. 
Mary  Colechurch,  in  the  Poultry,  built  a  stone 
bridge  a  Utde  further  west,  and  the  king  helped 
him  with  the  proceeds  of  a  tax  on  wool,  which 
gave  rise  to  the  old  saying  that  "  London  Bridge 
was  built  upon  woolpacks."  Peter's  bridge  was  a 
curious  structure,  with  nineteen  pointed  arches 
and  a  drawbridge.  There  was  a  fortified  gate- 
house at  each  end,  and  a  gothic  chapel  towards 
the  centre,  dedicated  to  St.  Thomas  h  Becket, 
the  spurious  martyr  of  Canterbury.  In  Queen 
Elizabeth's  reign  there  were  shops  on  eidier  side, 
with  flat  roofs,  arbours,  and  gardens,  and  at  the  south 
end  rose  a  gi"eat  four-storey  wooden  house,  brought 
from  Holland,  which  was  covered  with  carving 
and  gilding.  In.  the  Middle  Ages,  London  Bridge 
was  the  scene  of  affrays  of  all  kinds.  Soon  after  it 
was  built,  the  houses  upon  it  caught  fire  at  boSi 
ends,  and  3,000  persons  perished,  wedged  m 
among  the  flames.  Henry  III.  was  driven  back 
here  by  the  rebellious  De  Montfort,  Earl  of 
Leicester.  Wat  Tyler  entered  the  City  by  London 
Bridge;  and,  later,  Richard  II.  was  received  here 
widi  gorgeous  ceremonies.  It  was  the  scene  of 
one    of  Henry  V.'s   greatest   triumphs,  and  also 


LONDON    BRIDGE   AND    THE   TOWEI^. 


of  his  stately  funeral  procession.  Jack  Cade 
seized  London  Bridge,  and  as  he  passed  slashed 
in  two  the  ropes  of  the  drawbridge,  though  soon 
after  his  head  was  stuck  on  the  gate-house.  From 
this  bridge  the  rebel  Wyatt  was  driven  by  the 
guns  of  the  Tower ;  and  in  Elizabeth's  reign  water- 
works were  erected  on  the  bridge.  There  was  a 
great  conflagration  on  the  bridge  in  1632,  and 
eventually  the  Great  Fire  almost  destroyed  it.  In 
the  Middle  Ages  countless  rebels'  heads  were  stuck 
on  the  gate-houses  of  London  Bridge.  Brave 
Wallace's  was  placed  there;  and  so  were  the  heads 
of  Henry  VIII. 's  victims — Fisher,  Bishop  of 
Rochester  and  Sir  Thomas  More,  the  latter  trophy 
being  carried  off  by  the  stratagem  of  his  brave 
daughter.  Garnet,  the  Gunpowder-Plot  Jesuit, 
also  contributed  to  the  ghastly  triumphs  of  justice. 
Several  celebrated  painters,  including  Hogarth, 
lived  at  one  time  or  another  on  the  bridge ;  and 
Swift  and  Pope  used  to  frequent  the  shop  of  a 
witty  bookseller,  who  lived  under  the  northern 
gate.  One  or  two  celebrated  suicides  have  taken 
place  at  London  Bridge,  and  among  these  we  may 
mention  that  of  Sir  William  Temple's  son,  who  was 
Secretary  of  War,  and  Eustace  Budgell,  a  broken- 
down  author,  who  left  behind  him  as  an  apology 
the  following  sophism  : — 

"  What  Cato  did   and  Addison  apj^roved   of  cannot   be 
wrong. " 

Pleasanter  is  it  to  remember  the  anecdote  of 
the  brave  apprentice,  who  leaped  into  the  Thames 
from  the  window  of  a  house  on  the  bridge  to 
save  his  master's  infant  daughter,  whom  a  care- 
less nurse  had  dropped  into  the  river.  When 
the  girl  grew  up,  many  noble  suitors  came,  but 
the  generous  father  was  obdurate.  "  No,"  said 
tke  honest  citizen ;  "  Osborne  saved  her,  and 
Osborne  shall  have  her."  And  so  he  had ;  and 
Osborne's  great  grandson  throve  and  became  the 
fitfit  Duke  of  Leeds,  The  frequent  loss  of  lives 
in  shooting  the  arches  of  the  old  bridge,  where 
the  fall  was  at  times  five  feet,  led  at  last  to  a  cry 
for  a  new  bridge,  and  one  was  commenced  in  1824. 
Bjennie  designed  it,  and  in  1831  William  IV.  and 
Queen  Adelaide  opened  it.  One  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand  tons  of  stone  went  to  its  fonna- 
tion.  The  old  bridge  was  not  entirely  removed 
till  1832,  when  the  bones  of  the  builder,  Pious 
Peter  of  Colechurch,  were  found  in  the  ciypt 
of  the  central  chapel,  where  tradition  had  de- 
diared  they  lay.  The  iron  of  the  piles  of  the 
old  bridge  was  bought  by  a  cutler  in  the  Strand, 
and  produced  steel  of  the  highest  quality.  Part 
of  the    old   stone    was   purchased    by   Alderman 


Harmer,  to  build  his  house,  Ingress  Abbey,  near 
Greenhithe. 

Southwark,  a  Roman  station  and  cemetery,  is 
by  no  means  without  a  history.  It  was  burned  by 
William  the  Conqueror,  and  had  been  the  scene  of 
battle  against  the  Danes.  It  possessed  palaces, 
monasteries,  a  mint,  and  fortifications.  The 
Bishops  of  Winchester  and  Rochester  once  lived 
here  in  splendour ;  and  the  locality  boasted  its 
four  Elizabethan  theatres.  The  Globe  was  Shake- 
speare's summer  theatre,  and  here  it  was  that  his 
greatest  triumphs  were  attained.  What  was  acted 
there  is  best  told  by  making  Shakespeare's  share 
in  the  management  distinctly  understood  ;  nor 
can  we  leave  Southwark  without  visiting  the 
"Tabard  Inn,"  from  whence  Chaucer's  nine-and- 
twenty  jovial  pilgrims  set  out  for  Canterbury. 

The  Tower  rises  next  before  our  eyes ;  and  as 
we  pass  under  its  battlements  the  grimmest  and 
most  tragic  scenes  of  English  history  seem  again 
rising  before  us.  Whether  Caesar  first  built  a 
tower  here  or  William  the  Conqueror,  may  never  be 
decided ;  but  one  thing  is  certain,  that  more  tears 
have  been  shed  within  these  walls  than  anywhere 
else  in  London.  Every  stone  has  its  story.  Here 
Wallace,  in  chains,  thought  of  Scotland ;  here 
Queen  Anne  Boleyn  placed  her  white  hands  round 
her  slender  neck,  and  said  the  headsman  would 
have  little  trouble.  Here  Catharine  Howard,  Sir 
Thomas  More,  Cranmer,  Northumberland,  Lady 
Jane  Grey,  Wyatt,  and  the  Earl  of  Essex  all  perished. 
Here,  Clarence  was  drowned  in  a  butt  of  wine  and 
the  two  boy  princes  were  murdered.  Many  victims 
of  kings,  many  kingly  victims,  have  here  perished. 
Many  patriots  have  here  sighed  for  liberty.  The 
poisoning  of  Overbury  is  a  mystery  of  the  Tower, 
the  perusal  of  which  never  wearies  though  the  dark 
secret  be  unsolvable ;  and  we  can  never  cease  to 
sympathise  with  that  brave  woman,-  the  Countess  of 
Nithsdale,  who  risked  her  life  to  save  her  husband's. 
From  Laud  and  Strafford  we  turn  to  Eliot  and 
Hutchinson — for  Cavaliers  and  Puritans  were  both 
by  turns  prisoners  in  the  Tower.  From  Lord  William 
Russell  and  Algernon  Sydney  we  come  down  in 
the  chronicle  of  suffering  to  the  Jacobites  of  1 7 1 5 
and  1745;  from  them  to  Wilkes,  Lord  George 
Gordon,  Burdett,  and,  last  of  all  the  Tower  pri- 
soners, to  the  infamous  Thistlewood. 

Leaving  the  crimson  scaffold  on  Tower  Hill,  we 
return  as  sightseers  to  glance  over  the  armoury 
and  to  catch  the  sparkle  of  the  Royal  jewels.  Here 
is  the  identical  crown  that  that  daring  villain  Blood 
stole  and  the  heart-shaped  ruby  that  the  Black 
Prince  once  wore ;  here  we  see  the  swords,  sceptres, 
and  diadems  of  many  of  our  monarchs.     In  the 


ro 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


armoury  are  suits  on  which  many  lances  have  sphn- 
tered  and  swords  struck ;  the  imperishable  steel 
clothes  of  many  a  dead  king  are  here,  unchanged 
since  the  owners  doffed  them.  This  suit  was  the 
Earl  of  Leicester's — the  "Kenilworth  "  earl,  for  see 
his  cognizance  of  the  bear  and  ragged  staff  on  the 
liorse's  chanfron.  This  richly-gilt  suit  was  worn  by 
James  IL's  ill-starred  son,  Prince  Henry,  whom 
many  thought  was  poisoned  by  Buckingham  ;  and 
this  quaint  mask,  with  ram's  horns  and  spectacles, 
belonged  to  Will  Somers,  Henry  VHL's  jester. 

From  the  Tower  we  break  away  into  the  far 
east,  among  the  old  clothes  shops,  the  bird  markets, 
the  costermongers,  and  the  weavers  of  White- 
cliapel  and  Spitalfields.  We  are  far  from  jewels 
here  and  Court  splendour,  and  we  come  to  plain 
working  people  and  their  homely  ways.  Spital- 
fields  was  the  site  of  a  priory  of  Augustine  canons, 
however,  and  has  ancient  traditions  of  its  own. 
The  weavers,  of  French  origin,  are  an  interesting 
race — we  shall  have  to  sketch  their  sayings  and 
doings  ;  and  we  sliall  search  Whitechapel  diligently 
for  old  houses  and  odd  people.  The  district  may 
not  furnish  so  many  interesting  scenes  and  anec- 
dotes as  the  West  End,  but  it  is  well  worthy  of 
study  from  many  modem  points  of  view. 

Smithfield  and  Holborn  are  regions  fertile  in 
associations.  Smithfield,  that  broad  plain,  the 
scene  of  so  many  martyrdoms,  tournaments,  and 
executions,  forms  an  interesting  subject  for  a 
diversified  chapter.  In  this  market-place  the 
ruffians  of  Henry  VHL's  time  met  to  fight  out  their 
quarrels  with  sword  and  buckler.  Here  the  brave 
Wallace  was  executed  like  a  common  robber ;  and 
liere  "  the  gentle  Mortimer"  was  led  to  a  shameful 
death.  The  spot  was  the  scene  of  great  jousts  in 
Edward  III.'s  chivalrous  reign,  when,  after  the  battle 
of  Poictiers,  the  Kings  of  France  and  Scotland 
came  seven  days  running  to  see  spears  shivered 
and  "  the  Lady  of  the  Sun  "  bestow  the  prizes  of 
valour.  In  this  same  field  AValworth  slew  the 
rebel  Wat  Tyler,  who  had  treated  Richard  II.  with 
insolence,  and  by  this  prompt  blow  dispersed  the 
insurgents,  who  had  grown  so  dangerously  strong. 
In  Henry  VIII. 's  reign  poisoners  were  boiled  to 
death  in  Smithfield  ;  and  in  cruel  Mary's  reign  the 
Protestant  martyrs  were  burned  in  the  same  place. 
"Of  the  two  hundred  and  seventy-seven  persons 
burnt  for  heresy  in  Mary's  reign,"  says  a  modern 
antiquary,  "  the  greater  number  perished  in  Smith- 
field  ;  and  ashes  and  charred  bodies  have  been  dug 
up  opposite  to  the  gateway  of  Bartholomew's 
Church  and  at  the  west  end  of  Long  Lane.  After 
the  Great  Fire  the  houseless  citizens  were  sheltered 
here  in  tents.     Over  against  the  comer  where  the 


Great  Fire  abated  is  Cock  Lane,  the  scene  of  the 
rapping  ghost,  in  which  Dr.  Johnson  beUeved  and 
concerning  which  Goldsmith  \\TOte  a  catchpenny 
pamphlet. 

Holbom  and  its  tributaries  come  next,  and  are 
by  no  means  deficient  in  legends  and  matter 
of  general  interest.  "  The  original  name  of  the 
street  was  the  Hollow  Boume,"  says  a  modern 
etymologist,  "  not  the  Old  Boume  ; "  it  was  not 
paved  till  the  reign  of  Henry  V.  The  ride  up 
"  the  Heavy  Hill "  from  Newgate  to  Tybum  has 
been  sketched  by  Hogarth  and  sung  by  Swift.  In 
Ely  Place  once  lived  the  Bishop  of  Ely  ;  and  in 
Hatton  Garden  resided  Queen  Elizabeth's  favourite, 
the  dancing  chancellor.  Sir  Christopher  Hatto«. 
In  Furnival's  Inn  Dickens  wrote  "  Pickwick."  In 
Bamard's  Inn  died  the  last  of  the  alchemists.  In 
Staple's  Inn  Dr.  Johnson  vrrote  "  Rasselas,"  to  pay 
the  expenses  of  his  mother's  funeral.  In  Brooke 
Street,  where  Chatterton  poisoned  himself,  lived 
Lord  Brooke,  a  poet  and  statesman,  who  was  a 
patron  of  Ben  Jonson  and  Shakespeare,  and  who 
was  assassinated  by  a  servant  whose  name  he  had 
omitted  in  his  will.  Milton  lived  for  some  time  in 
a  house  in  Holbom  that  opened  at  the  back  on 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  Fox  Court  leads  us  to  the 
curious  inquiry  whether  Savage,  the  poet,  was  a 
conscious  or  an  unconscious  impostor ;  and  at  the 
Blue  Boar  Inn  Cromwell  and  Ireton  discovered  by 
stratagem  the  treacherous  letter  of  Kmg  Charles 
to  his  queen,  that  rendered  Cromwell  for  ever  the 
King's  enemy.  These  are  only  a  few  of  the 
countless  associations  of  Holborn. 

Newgate  is  a  gloomy  but  an  interesting  subject 
for  us.  Many  wild  faces  have  stared  through  its 
bars  since,  in  King  John's  time,  it  became  a  City 
prison.  We  shall  look  in  on  Sarah  Malcolm,  Mrs. 
Brownrigg,  Jack  Sheppard,  Governor  Wall,  and 
other  interesting  criminals ;  we  shall  stand  at  Wren's 
elbow  when  he  designs  the  new  prison,  and  follow 
the  Gordon  Rioters  when  they  storai  in  over  the 
burning  walls. 

The  Strand  stands  next  to  Fleet  Street  as  a 
central  point  of  old  memories.  It  is  not  merely  full, 
it  positively  teems.  For  centuries  it  was  a  fashion- 
able street,  and  noblemen  inhabited  the  south  side 
especiall)',  for  the  sake  of  the  river.  In  Essex 
Street,  on  a  part  of  the  Temple,  Queen  Elizabeth's 
rash  favourite  (the  Earl  of  Essex)  was  besieged, 
after  his  hopeless  foray  into  the  City.  In  Arundel 
Street  lived  the  Earls  of  Amndel ;  in  Buckingham 
Street  Charles  I.'s  greedy  favourite  began  a  palace. 
There  were  royal  palaces,  too,  in  the  Strand,  for 
at  the  Savoy  lived  John  of  Gaunt ;  and  Somerset 
House  was  built  by  the  Protector  Somerset  with 


ARTISTS  AND   ACTORS   IN   COVENT   GARDEN. 


the  stones  of  the  churches  he  had  pulled  down. 
Henrietta  Maria  (Charles  I.'s  Queen)  and  poor 
neglected  Catherine  of  Braganza  dwelt  at  Somer- 
set House  ;  and  it  was  here  that  Sir  Edmondbury 
Godfrey,  the  zealous  Protestant  magistrate,  was 
supposed  to  have  been  murdered.  There  is,  too, 
the  history  of  Lord  Burleigh's  house  (in  Cecil 
Street)  to  record  ;  and  Northumberland  House  still 
stands  to  recall  to  us  its  many  noble  inmates.  On 
the  other  side  of  the  Strand  we  have  to  note 
Butcher  Row  (now  pulled  down),  where  the  Gun- 
powder Plot, conspirators  met ;  Exeter  House,  where 
Lord  Burleigh's  wily  son  lived  ;  and,  finally,  Exeter 
'Change,  where  the  poet  Gay  lay  in  state.  Nor 
shall  ve  forget  Cross's  menagerie  and  the  elephant 
Chunee ;  nor  omit  mention  of  many  of  the  eccentric 
old  shopkeepers  who  once  inhabited  the  'Change. 
At  Charing  Cross  we  shall  stop  to  see  the  old  Crom- 
wellians  die  bravely,  and  to  stare  at  the  pillory, 
where  in  their  time  many  incomparable  scoundrels 
ignominiously  stood.  The  Nelson  Column  and  the 
surrounding  statues  have  stories  of  their  own  ;  and 
St.  Martin's  Lane  is  specially  interesting  as  the 
haunt  of  half  the  painters  of  the  early  Georgian  era. 
There  are  anecdotes  of  Hogarth  and  his  friends  to 
be  picked  up  here  in  abundance,  and  the  locality 
generally  deserves  exploration,  from  the  quaintness 
and  cleverness  of  its  former  inhabitants. 

In  Co  vent  Garden  we  break  fresh  ground.  We 
found  St.  Martin's  T.ane  full  of  artists,  Guildhall 
full  of  aldermen,  the  Strand  full  of  noblemen — the 
old  monastic  garden  will  prove  to  be  crowded  with 
actors.  We  shall  trace  the  market  from  the  first 
few  sheds  under  the  wall  of  Bedford  House  to  the 
present  grand  temple  of  Flora  and  Pomona.  We 
shall  see  Evans's  a  new  mansion,  inhabited  by  Ben 
Jonson's  friend  and  patron.  Sir  Kenelm  Digby, 
alternately  tenanted  by  Sir  Harry  Vane,  Denzil 
Holies  (one  of  the  five  refractory  members  whom 
Charles  I.  went  to  the  House  of  Commons  so 
imprudently  to  seize),  and  Admiral  Russell,  who 
defeated  the  French  at  La  Hogue.  The  ghost 
of  Parson  Ford,  in  which  Johnson  believed,  awaits 
us  at  the  doorway  of  the  Hummums.  There  are 
several  duels  to  witness  in  the  Piazza;  Dryden 
to  call  upon  as  he  sits,  the  arbiter  of  wits,  by  the 
fireside  at  Will's  Coffee  House ;  Addison  is  to  be 
found  at  Button's  ;  at  the  '*  Bedford  "  we  .shall  meet 
Garrick  and  Quin,  and  stop  a  moment  at  Tom 
King's,  close  to  St.  Paul's  portico,  to  watch 
Hogarth's  revellers  fight  with  swords  and  shovels, 
that  frosty  morning  that  the  painter  sketched  the 
prim  old  maid  going  to  early  service.  We  shall 
look  in  at  tlie  Tavistock  to  see  Sir  Peter  Lely 
and  Sir  Godfrey   Kneller    at  work  at  portraits   of 


beauties  of  the  Carolean  and  Jacobean  Courts; 
remembering  that  in  the  same  rooms  Sir  James 
Thornhill  afterwards  painted,  and  poor  Richard 
Wilson  produced  those  fine  landscapes  which  so  few 
had  the  taste  to  buy.  The  old  hustings  deserve  a 
word,  and  we  shall  have  to  record  the  lamentable 
murder  of  Miss  Ray  by  her  lover,  at  the  north-east 
angle  of  the  square.  The  neighbourhood  of  Covent 
Garden,  too,  is  rife  with  stories  of  great  actors  and 
painters,  and  nearly  every  house  furnishes  its  quota 
of  anecdote. 

The  history  of  Drury  Lane  and  Covent  Garden 
theatres  supplies  us  with  endless  anecdotes  of  actors, 
and  with  humorous  and  pathetic  narratives  that  em- 
brace the  whole  region  both  of  tragedy  and  comedy. 
Quin's  jokes,  Garrick's  weaknesses,  the  celebrated 
O.  P.  riots,  contrast  with  the  miserable  end  of  some 
popular  favourites  and  the  caprices  of  genius.  The 
oddities  of  Munden,  the  humour  of  Listen,  only 
serve  to  render  the  gloom  of  Kean's  downfall 
more  terrible,  and  to  show  the  wreck  and  ruin  of 
many  unhappy  men,  equally  wilful  though  less 
gifted.  There  is  a  perennial  charm  about  theatri- 
cal stories,  and  the  history  of  these  theatres  must 
be  illustrated  by  many  a  sketch  of  the  loves  and 
rivalries  of  actors,  their  fantastic  tricks,  their  prac- 
tical jokes,  their  gay  progress  to  success  or  ruin. 
Changes  of  popular  taste  are  marked  by  the 
change  of  character  in  the  pieces  that  have  been 
performed  in  various  ages ;  and  the  history  of  the 
two  theatres  will  include  various  illustrative  sketches 
of  dramatic  writers,  as  well  as  actors.  There  was 
a  vast  interval,  in  literature  between  the  tragedies 
of  Addison  and  Murphey  and  the  comedies  of 
Holcroft,  O'Keefe,  and  Morton ;  the  descent  to 
modern  melodrama  and  burlesque  must  be  traced 
through  various  gradations,  and  the  reasons  shown 
for  the  many  modifications  both  classes  of  enter- 
tainments have  undergone. 

Westminster,  from  the  night  St.  Peter  came  over 
from  Lambeth  in  the  fisherman's  boat,  and  chose 
a  site  for  the  Abbey  in  the  midst  of  Thorney  Island, 
to  the  present  day,  has  been  a  spot  where  the 
pilgrim  to  historic  shrines  loves  to  linger.  Need 
we  remind  our  readers  that  Edward  the  Confessor 
built  the  Abbey,  or  that  William  the  Conqueror 
was  crowned  here,  the  ceremony  ending  in  tumult 
and  blood?  How  vast  the  store  of  facts  from 
which  we  have  to  cull !  We  see  the  Jews  being 
beaten  nearly  to  death  for  daring  to  attend  the 
coronation  of  Richard  I. ;  we  observe  Edward  I, 
watching  the  sacred  stone  of  Scotland  being  placed 
beneath  his  coronation  chair;  we  behold  for  the 
first  time,  at  Richard  II.'s  coronation,  the  champion 
riding  into  the  Hall,  to   challenge  all  who   reftise 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


allegiance ;  we  see,  at  the  funeral  of  Anne  of  Bo- 
hemia, Richard  beating  the  Earl  of  Arundel  for 
\\Tshing  to  leave  before  the  service  is  over.  We  hear 
the  Te  Daitn  that  is  sung  for  the  victory  of  Agin- 
court,  and  watch  Henry  VI.  selecting  a  site  for  a 
resting-place ;  we  hear  for  the  last  time,  at  the 
coronation  of  Henry  VHI.,  the  sanction  of  the 
Pope  bestowed  upon  an  English  monarch ;  we  pity 
poor  Queen  Caroline  attempting  to  enter  the  Abbey 
to  see  her  worthless  husband  crowned  ;  and  we  view 


through  them  :  in  St.  James's  seeing  Charles  II.  feed- 
ing his  ducks  or  playing  "pall-mall ; "  in  Hyde  Park 
observing  the  fashions  and  extravagancies  of  many 
generations.  Romeo  Coates  will  whisk  past  us  in 
his  fantastic  chariot,  and  the  beaus  and  oddities  of 
many  generations  will  pace  past  us  in  review. 
There  will  be  celebrated  duels  to  describe,  and 
various  strange  follies  to  deride.  We  shall  see 
Cromwell  thrown  from  his  coach,  and  shall  witness 
the    foot-races   that   Pepys    describes.      Drj'den's 


BRIDEWELL   IN    1666   {sc^ page  l^. 


the  last  coronation,  and  draw  auguries  of  a  purer  if 
not  a  happier  age.  The  old  Hall,  too ;  could  we 
neglect  that  ancient  chamber,  where  Charles  I.  was 
sentenced  to  death,  and  where  Cromwell  was 
throned  in  almost  regal  splendour?  We  must  see 
it  in  all  its  special  moments ;  when  the  seven 
bishops  were  acquitted,  and  the  shout  of  joy  shook 
London  as  with  an  earthquake ;  and  when  the  rebel 
lords  were  tried.  We  must  hear  Lord  Byron  tried 
for  his  duel  with  Mr.  Chaworth,  and  mad  Lord 
Ferrers  condemned  for  shooting  his  steward.  We 
shall  get  a  side-view  of  the  shameless  Duchess  of 
Kingston,  and  hear  Burke  and  Sheridan  grow 
eloquent  over  the  misdeeds  of  Warren  Hastings. 
The  parks  now  draw  us  westward,  and  we  wander  I 


gallants  and  masked  ladies  will  receive  some  men- 
tion ;  and  we  shall  tell  of  bygone  encampments 
and  of  many  events  now  almost  forgotten. 

Kensington  will  recall  many  anecdotes  of  William 
of  Orange,  his  beloved  Queen,  stupid  Prince  George 
of  Denmark,  and  George  II.,  who  all  died  at  the 
palace,  the  old  seat  of  the  Finches.  We  are  sure 
to  find  good  company  in  the  gardens.  Still  as 
when  Tickell  sang,  every  walk 

"  Seems  from  afar  a  moving  tulip  bed, 
Where  rich  brocades  and  glossy  damasks  glow, 
And  chintz,  the  rival  of  the  showery  bow. " 

There  is  Newton's  house  at  South  Kensington 
to  visit,  and  Wilkie's  and  Mrs.   Inchbald's;  and, 


CHELSEA   AND   ITS   NEIGHBOURHOOD. 


13 


above  all,  there  is  Holland  House,  the  scene  of  the 
delightful  Whig  coteries  of  Tom  Moore's  time. 
Here  Addison  lived  to  regret  his  marriage  with 
a  lady  of  rank,  and  here  he  died.  At  Kensington 
Charles  James  Fox  spent  his  youth. 

And  now  Chelsea  brings  us  pleasant  recollec- 
tions of  •  Sir  Thomas  More,  Swift,  Sir  Robert 
Walpole,  and  Atterbury.  "  Chelsith,"  Sir  Thomas 
More  used  to  call  it  when  Holbein  was  lodging 
in  his   house  and   King  Henry,    who   afterwards 


fiddle.     Saltero  was  a  barber,  who  drew  teeth,  drew 
customers,  Avrote  verses,  and  collected  curiosities. 
"  Some  relics  of  the  Sheban  queen 
And  fragments  of  the  famed  Bob  Crusoe," 

Swift  lodged  at  Chelsea,  over  against  the  Jacobite 
Bishop  Atterbury,  who  so  nearly  lost  his  head.  In 
one  of  his  delightful  letters  to  Stella  Swift  describes 
"the  Old  Original  Chelsea  Bun  House,"  and  the 
r-r-r-r-rare  Chelsea  buns.  He  used  to  leave  his 
best  gown  and  perriwig  at  Mrs.  Vanhomrig's,  in 


PART  OF  MODERN   LONDON,    SHOWING  THE  ANCIENT  WALL  {see  page  20). 


beheaded  his  old  friend,  used  to  come  to  dinner, 
and  after  dinner  walk  round  the  fair  garden  with 
his  arm  round  his  host's  neck.  More  was  fond  of 
walking  on  the  flat  roof  of  his  gate-house,  which 
commanded  a  pleasant  prospect  of  the  Thames 
and  the  fields  beyond.  Let  us  hope  the  tradition  is 
not  true  that  he  used  to  bind  heretics  to  a  tree  in 
his  garden.  In  1717  Chelsea  only  contained  350 
houses,  and  these  in  1725  had  grown  to  1,350. 
There  is  Cheyne  Walk,  so  called  from  the  Lords 
Cheyne,  owners  of  the  manor;  and  we  must  not 
forget  Don  Saltero  and  his  famous  coffee-house, 
the  oddities  of  which  Steele  pleasantly  sketched  in 
the  Tatler.  The  Don  was  famous  for  his  skill  in 
brewing  punch  and  for  his  excellent  plnying  on  the 


Suffolk  Street,  then  walk  up  Pall  Mall,  through 
the  park,  out  at  Buckingham  House,  and  on  to 
Chelsea,  a  little  beyond  the  church  (5,748  steps), 
he  says,  in  less  than  an  hour,  which  was  leisurely 
walking  even  for  the  contemplative  and  observant 
dean.  Smollet  laid  a  scene  of  his  "  Humphrey 
Clinker  "  in  Chelsea,  where  he  lived  for  some  time. 
The  Princess  Elizabeth,  when  a  girl,  lived  at 
Chelsea,  with  that  dangerous  man,  with  whom  she 
is  said  to  have  fallen  in  love,  the  Lord  Admiral 
Seymour,  afterwards  "beheaded.  He  was  the 
second  husband  of  Katherine  Parr,  one  of  the 
many  Avives  of  Elizabeth's  father.  Cremorne  was, 
in  Walpole's  days,  the  villa  of  Lord  Cremorne,  an 
Irish  nobleman;  and   near    here,  at    a    river-side 


14 


OLD   AND    NEW   LONDON. 


cottage  .died,  in  miserly  and  cynical  obscurity,  the 
greatest  of  our  modern  landscape  painters,  Turner. 
Then  there  is  Chelsea  Hospital  to  visit.  This 
hospital  was  built  by  Wren;  Charles  II.,  it  is 
said  at  Nell  Gwynn's  suggestion,  originated  the 
good  work,  .which  was  finished  by  William  and 
Mary.  Dr.  Arbuthnot,  that  good  man  so  beloved 
by  the  Pope  set,  was  physician  here,  and  the  Rev. 
Philip  Francis,  who  translated  Horace,  was 
chaplain.  Nor  can  v/e  leave  Chelsea  %vithout 
remembering  Sir  Hans  Sloane,  whose  collection 
of  antiquities,  sold  for  ;^2 0,000,  formed  the  first 
nucleus  of  the  British  Museum,  and  who  resided 
at  Chelsea ;  nor  shall  we  forget  the  Chelsea  china 
manufactory,  one  of  the  earliest  porcelain  manu- 
factories in  England,  patronized  by  George  II., 
who  brought  over  German  artificers  from  Bruns- 
wick and  Saxony.  In  the  reign  of  Louis  XV. 
the  French  manufacturers  began  to  regard  it  with 
jealousy  and  petitioned  their  king  for  special 
privileges.  Ranelagh,  too,  that  old  pleasure-garden 
which  Dr.  Johnson  declared  was  "  the  finest  thing 
he  had  ever  seen,"  deserves  a  word;  Horace 
Walpole  was  constantly  there,  though  at  first,  he 
owns,  he  preferred  Vauxliall ;  and  Lord  Chester- 
field was  so  fond  of  it  that  he  used  to  say  he 
should  order  all  his  letters  to  be  directed  there. 

The  West  End  squares  are  pleasant  spots  for 
our  purpose,  and  at  many  doors  we  shall  have 
to  make  a  call.  In  Landsdowne  House  (in 
Berkeley  Square)  it  is  supposed  by  many  that 
Lord  Shelbume,  Colonel  Barre,  and  Dunning 
^vrote  "  Junius  " ;  certain  it  is  that  the  Marquis  of 
Landsdowne,  in  1S09,  acknowledged  the  posses- 
sion of  the  secret,  but  died  the  following  week, 
before  he  could  disclose  it.  Here,  in  1774,  that 
persecuted  philosopher.  Dr.  Priestley,  the  librarian 
to  Lord  Slielburnc,  discovered  oxygen.  In  this 
square  Horace  Walpole  (that  delightful  letter- 
writer)  died  and  Lord  Clive  destroyed  himself. 
Then  there  is  Grosvenor  Scjuare,  where  that  fat, 
easy-going  Minister,  Lord  North,  lived,  where  Wilkes 
the  notorious  resided,  and  where  the  Cato-Street 
conspirators  planned  to  kill  all  the  Cabinet 
]\'iinisters,  who  had  been  invited  to  dinner  by  the 
Earl  of  Harrowby.  In  Hanover  Square  we  visit 
Lord  Rodney,  &c.  In  St.  James's  Square  we  recall 
William  III.  coming  to  the  Earl  of  Romney's  to 
see  fireworks  let  off  and,  later,  the  Prince  Regent, 
from  a  balcony,  displaying  to  the  people  the  Eagles 
captured  at  Waterloo.  Queen  Caroline  resided 
here  during  her  trial,  and  many  of  Charles  II.'s 
frail  beauties  also  resided  in  the  same  spot  In 
Cavendish  Square  we  stop  to  describe  the  splendid 
projects  of   that  great  Duke   of  Chandos    whom 


Pope  ridiculed.  Nor  are  the  lesser  squares  by  any 
means  devoid  of  interest. 

In  Pall  Mall  the  laziest  gleaner  of  London  tradi- 
tions might  find  a  harvest.  On  the  site  of  Carlton 
House — the  Prince  Regent's  palace — were,  in  the 
reign  of  Henry  VI.,  monastic  buildings,  in  which 
(reign  of  Henry  VIII.)  Erasmus  afterwards  resided. 
They  were  pulled  down  at  the  Reformation.  Nell 
Gwynn  lived  here,  and  so  did  Sir  William  Temple, 
Swift's  early  patron,  the  pious  Boyle,  and  that  poor 
puff-ball  of  vanity  and  pretence — Bubb  Doddington. 
Here  we  have  to  record  the  unhappy  duel  at  the 
"  Star  and  Garter  "  tavern  between  Lord  Byron  and 
Mr.  Chaworth,  and  the  murder  of  Mr.  Thynne  by 
his  rival,  Count  Koningsmark.  There  is  Boydell's 
Shakespeare  Gallery  to  notice,  and  Dodsley's  shop, 
which  Burke,  Johnson,  and  Garrick  so  often  visited. 
There  is  also  the  origin  of  the  Royal  Academy,  at 
a  house  opposite  Market  Lane,  to  chronicle,  many 
club-houses  to  visit,  and  curious  memorabilia  of  all 
kinds  to  be  sifted,  selected,  contrasted,  mounted, 
and  placed  in  sequence  for  view. 

Then  comes  Marylebone,  formerly  a  suburb, 
famous  only  for  its  hunting  park  (now  Regent's 
Park),  its  gardens,  and  its  bowling-greens.  In 
Queen  Elizabeth's  time  the  Russian  ambassadors 
were  sent  to  hunt  in  Marylebone  f'ark ;  Cromwell 
sold  it — deer,  timber,  and  all — for  ^^13,000. 
The  Marylebone  BowHng  Greens,  which  preceded 
the  gardens,  were  at  first  the  resort  of  noblemen 
and  gentlemen,  but  eventually  highwaymen  began 
to  frequent  them.  The  Duke  of  Buckingham 
(whom  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu  glances  at  in 
the  line, 

*'  Some  dukes  at  Marybone  bowl  time  away  ") 

used,  at  an  annual  dinner  to  the  frequenters  of  the 
gardens,  to  give  the  agreeable  toast, — "  May  as 
many  of  us  as  remain  unhan;,ed  next  spring  meet 
here  again."  Eventually  burlettas  were  pro- 
duced— one  written  by  Chatterton ;  and  Dr.  Arn-e 
conducted  Handel's  music.  Marylebone,  in  the 
time  of  Hogarth,  was  a  favourite  place  for  prize 
fight-s  and  back-sword  combats,  the  g.  eat  champion 
being  Figg,  that  bullet-headed  man  with  the  bald, 
plaistered  head,  whom  Hogarth  has  represented 
mounting  grim  sentry  in  his  "  Sout'hwark  Fair." 
The  great  building  at  Maiylebone  began  between 
1718  and  1729.  In  1739  there  were  only  577 
houses  in  the  parish;  in  185 1  there  were  16,669. 
In  many  of  the  nooks  and  corners  of  Mary- 
lebone we  shall  find  curious  facts  and  stories 
worth  the  unravelling. 

The    east-ern    squares,   in  Bloomsbury  and  St. 
Pancras,  are  regions  not  by  any  means  to  be  lightly 


THE   NORTHERN    OUTSKIRTS. 


^5 


passed  hj.  Bloomsbury  Square  was  built  by  the  Earl 
of  Southampton,  about  the  time  of  the  Restoration, 
and  was  thought  one  of  the  wonders  of  England. 
Baxter  lived  here  when  he  was  tormented  by  Judge 
jefferies ;  Sir  Hans  Sloane  was  one  of  its  inhabit- 
ants; so  was  that  great  physician,  Dr.  Radcliffe, 
The  burning  of  Mansfield  House  by  Lord  George 
Gordon's  rioters  has  to  be  minutely  described.  In 
Russell  Square  we  visit  the  houses  of  Sir  Thomas 
Lawrence  and  of  Judge  Talfourd,  and  search  for 


Sir  Cloudesley  Shovel,  Sir  Joseph  Banks,  and  Burnet, 
the  historian,  were  all  inhabitants  of  this  locality. 

Islington  brings  us  back  to  days  when  Henry  VI  IT, 
came  there  to  hawk  the  partridge  and  the  heron, 
and  when  the  London  citizens  wandered  out  across 
the  northern  fields  to  drink  milk  and  eat  cheese- 
cakes. The  old  houses  abound  in  legends  of  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh,  Topham,  the  strong  man,  George 
Morland,  the  artist,  and  Henderson,  the  actor.  At 
Canonbury,  the  old  tower  of  the  country  house  of 


PLAN    OF    ROMAN    LO.NDON    {st'C  p.lje  20). 


that  celebrated  spot  in  London  legend,  "The  Field 
of  the  Forty  Footsteps,"  where  two  brothers,  it  is 
said,  killed  each  other  in  a  duel  for  a  lady,  who  sat 
by  watching  the  fight.  Then  there  is  Red  Lion 
Square,  where  tradition  says  some  faithful  adherents, 
at  the  Restoration,  buried  the  body  of  Cromwell,  to 
prevent  its  desecration  at  Tyburn ;  and  we  have  to 
cull  some  stories  of  a  good  old  inhabitant,  Jonas 
Hanway,  the  great  promoter  of  many  of  the  Lon- 
don charities,  the  first  man'  who  habitually  used 
an  umbrella  and  Dr.  Johnson's  spirited  opponent  on 
the  important  question  of  tea.  Soho .  Square,  too, 
has  many  a  tradition,  for  the  Duke  of  Monmouth 
lived  there  in  great  splendour ;  and  in  Hogarth's  time 
Mrs.  Comelys  made  the  square  celebrated  by  her 
masquerades,  which  in  time  became  disreputable. 


the  Prior  of  St.  Bartholomew  recalls  to  us  Gold- 
smith, who  used  to  come  there  to  hide  from  his 
creditors,  go  to  bed  early,  and  write  steadily. 

At  Highgate  and  Hampstead  we  shall  scour  the 
northern  uplands  of  London  by  no  means  in  vain, 
as  we  shall  find  Belsize  House,  in  Charles  II. 's 
time,  openly  besieged  by  robbers  and,  long  after- 
wards, highwaymen  swarming  in  the  same  locality. 
The  chalybeate  wells  of  Hampstead  lead  us  on  to 
the  Heath,  where  wolves  were  to  be  found  in  the 
twelfth  century  and  highwaymen  as  late  as  1803. 
Good  company  awaits  us  at  pleasant  Hampstead 
— Lord  Erskine,  Lord  Chatham,  Keats,  Akenside, 
Leigh  Hunt,  and  Sir  Fowell  Buxton ;  Booth, 
Wilkes,  and  Colley  Gibber ;  Mrs.  Barbauld,  honest 
Dick  Steele,  and  Joanna  Baillie.     As  for  Highgate, 


i6 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Roman  London. 


for  ages  a  mere  hamlet,  a  forest,  it  once  boasted 
a  bishop's  palace,  and  there  we  gather,  with  free 
hand,  memories  of  Sacheverell,  Rowe,  Dr.  Watts, 
Hogarth,  Coleridge,  and  Lord  Mansfield ;  Ireton, 
Marvell,  and  Dick  Whittington,  the  worthy  demi-god 
of  London  apprentices  to  the  end  of  time. 

Lambefh,  where  Harold  was  crowned,  can  hold  its 
own  in  interest  with  any  part  of  London — for  it  once 
possessed  two  ecclesiastical  palaces  and  many  places 
of  amusement.  Lambeth  Palace  itself  is  a  spot  ot 
extreme  interest.  Here  Wat  Tyler's  men  dragged 
off  Archbishop  Sudbury  to  execution ;  here,  when 
Laud  was  seized,  the  Parliamentary  soldiers  turned 
the  palace  into  a  prison  for  Royalists  and  de- 
molished the  great  hall.  Outside  the  walls  of  the 
church  James  II. 's  Queen  cowered  in  the  December 
rain  with  her  child,  till  a  coach  could  be  brought  from 
the  neighbouring  inn  to  convey  her  to  Gravesend  to 
take  ship  for  France.  The  Gordon  rioters  attacked 
the  palace  in  1780,  but  were  driven  off  by  a  detach- 
ment of  Guards.  The  Lollards'  Tower  has  to  be 
visited,  and  the  sayings  and  doings  of  a  long  line  of 
prelates  to  be  reviewed.  Vauxhall  brings  us  back  to 
the  days  when  Walpole  went  with  Lady  Caroline 
Petersham  and  helped  to  stew  chickens  in  a  china 
dish  over  a  lamp;  or  we  go  further  back  and  accom- 
pany Addison  and  the  worthy  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley, 
and  join  them  over  a  glass  of  Burton  ale  and  a  slice 
of  hung  beef. 

Astley's  Amphitheatre  recalls  to  us  many  amusing 
stories  of  that  old  soldier,  Ducrow,  and  of  his  friends 
and  rivals,  which  join  on  very  naturally  to  those 
other  theatrical  traditions  to  which  Drury  Lane  and 
Covent  Garden  have  already  led  us. 

So  we  mean  to  roam  from  flower  to  flower,  over 
as  varied  a  garden  as  the  imagination  can  well 
conceive.  There  have  been  brave  workers  before 
us  in  the  field,  and  we  shall  build  upon  good  founda- 
tions. We  hope  to  be  catholic  in  our  selections  ;  Ave 
shall  prune  away  only  the  superfluous ;  we  shall 
condense  anecdotes  only  where  we  tliink  we  can 


make  them  pitliier  and  racier.  We  will  neglect  no 
fact  that  is  interesting,  and  blend  together  all  that 
old  Time  can  give  us  bearing  upon  London.  Street 
by  street  we  shall  delve  and  rake  for  illustrative  storj-, 
despising  no  book,  however  humble,  no  pamphlet, 
however  obscure,  if  it  only  throws  some  light  on  the 
celebrities  of  London,  its  topographical  history,  its 
manners  and  customs.  Such  is  a  brief  summary  of 
our  plan. 

St.  Paul's  rises  before  us  with  its  great  black 
dome  and  stately  row  of  sable  columns  ;  the  Tower, 
with  its  central  citadel,  flanked  by  the  spear-like 
masts  of  the  river  shipping ;  the  great  world  of 
roofs  spreads  below  us  as  we  launch  upon  our 
venturous  voyage  of  discover)-.  From  Boadicea 
leading  on  her  sc}^thed  chariots  at  Battle  Bridge  to 
Queen  Victoria  in  the  Thanksgiving  procession  of 
yesterday  is  a  long  period  over  which  to  range.  We 
have  whole  generations  of  Londoners  to  defile 
before  us — painted  Britons,  hooded  Saxons,  mailed 
Crusaders,  Chaucer^s  men  in  hoods,  friars,  citizens, 
warriors,  Shakespeare's  friends,  Johnson's  compa- 
nions. Goldsmith's  jovial  "  Bohemians,"  Hogarth's 
fellow-painters,  soldiers,  lawyers,  statesmen,  mer- 
chants. Nevertheless,  at  our  spells  they  will 
gather  from  the  four  winds,  and  at  our  command 
march  off  to  their  old  billets  in  their  old  houses, 
where  we  may  best  cross-examine  them  and  collect 
their  impressions  of  the  life  of  their  times. 

The  subject  is  as  entertaining  as  any  dream 
Imagination  ever  evoked  and  as  varied  as  human 
nature.  Its  classification  is  a  certain  bond  of 
union,  and  will  act  as  an  excellent  cement  for  the 
multiform  stones  with  which  we  shall  rear  our  build- 
ing. Lists  of  names,  dry  pedigrees,  rows  of  dates, 
we  leave  to  the  herald  and  the  topographer ;  but  we 
shall  pass  by  little  that  can  throw  light  on  the 
history  of  London  in  any  generation,  and  we  shall 
dwell  more  especially  on  the  events  of  the  later 
centuries,  because  they  are  more  akin  to  us  and 
are  bound  to  us  by  closer  sympathies 


CHAPTER     I. 

ROMAN  LONDON. 
Buried  London— Our  Early  Relations— The  Founder  of  London— A  distinguished  Visitor  at  Romney  Marsh— Ca;?ar  re-visits  the  "Town  on  the 
Lake"— The  Borders  of  Old  London— Caesar  fails  to  make  much  out  of  the  Britons— King  Bya7vn—The  Derivation  of  the  name  of  London 
—The  Queen  of  the  Iceni— London  Stone  and  London  Roads— London's  Earlier  and  Newer  Walls— The  Site  of  St.  Paul's- Fabulous  Claims 
to  Idolatrous  Renown— Existing  Relics  of  Roman  London— Treasures  from  the  Bed  of  the  Thames— What  we  Tread  underfoot  in  London 
— A  vast  Field  of  Story.  . 

Eighteen  feet  below  the  level  of  Cheapside  lies 
hidden  Roman  London,  and  deeper  even  than  that 
is  buried  the  earlier  London  of  those  savage 
charioteers  who,  long  ages  ago,  bravely  confronted 
the  legions  of  Rome.     In  nearly  all  parts  of  the 


City  there  have  been  discovered  tesselated  pave- 
ments, Roman  tombs,  lamps,  vases,  sandals,  keys, 
ornaments,  weapons,  coins,  and  statues  of  the 
ancient  Roman  gods.  So  the  present  has  grown 
up  upon  the  ashes  of  the  past. 


Roman  London.] 


THE    FOUNDER    OF   LONDON. 


17 


Trees  that  are  to  live  long  grow  slowly.  Slow 
and  stately  as  an  oak  London  grew  and  grew,  till 
now  nearly  fouronillion  souls  represent  its  leaves. 
Oar  London  is  very  old.  Centuries  before  Christ 
there  probably  came  the  first  few  half-naked  fisher- 
men and  hunters,  who  reared,  with  flint  axes  and 
such  rude  tools,  some  miserable  huts  on  the  rising 
ground  that,  forming  the  north  bank  of  the  Thames, 
slopes  to  the  river  some  sixty  miles  from  where  it 
joins  the  sea.  According  to  some,  the  river  spread 
out  like  a  vast  lake  between  the  Surrey  and  the 
Essex  hills  in  those  times  when  the  half-savage  first 
settlers  found  the  low  slopes  of  the  future  London 
places  of  health  and  defence  amid  a  vast  and 
dismal  region  of  fen,  swamp,  and  forest.  The 
heroism  and  the  cruelties,  the  hopes  ai^  fears  of 
those  poor  barbarians,  darkness  never  to  be  re- 
moved has  hidden  from  us  for  ever.  Li  later  days 
monkish  historians,  whom  Milton  afterwards  fol- 
lowed, ignored  these  poor  early  relations  of  ours 
and  invented,  as  a  more  fitting  ancestor  of  English- 
men, Brute,  a  fugitive  nephew  of  ./^Eneas  of  Troy. 
But,  stroll  on  where  we  will,  the  pertinacious  savage, 
with  his  limbs  stained  blue  and  his  flint  axe  red 
with  blood,  is  a  ghost  not  easily  to  be  exorcised  from 
the  banks  of  the  Thames,  and  in  some  Welsh  veins 
his  blood  no  doubt  flows  at  this  very  day.  The 
founder  of  London  had  no  historian  to  record  his 
hopes — a  place  where  big.  salmon  were  to  be 
found,  and  plenty  of  wild  boars  were  to  be  met 
with,  was  probably  his  highest  ambition.  How  he 
bartered  with  Phoenicians  or  Gauls  for  amber  or 
iron  no  Druid  has  recorded.  How  he  slew  the 
foraging  Belgae,  or  was  slain  by  them  and  dis- 
possessed, no  bard  has  sung.  Whether  he  was 
generous  and  heroic  as  the  New  Zealander,  or  ape- 
li-ke  and  thievish  as  the  Bushman,  no  ethnologist 
has  yet  proved.  The  very  ashes  of  the  founder  of 
London  have  long  since  turned  to  earth,  air,  and 
water. 

No  doubt  the  few  huts  that  formed  early  London 
were  fought  for  over  and  over  again,  as  wolves 
wrangle  round  a  carcass.  On  Cornhill  there  pro- 
bably dwelt  petty  kings  who  warred  with  the  kings 
of  Ludgate  ;  and  in  Southwark  there  lurked  or  bur- 
rowed other  chiefs  who,  perhaps  by  intrigue  or 
force,  struggled  for  centuries  to  get  a  foothold  in 
Thames  Street.  But  of  such  infusoria  History 
(glorying  only  in  offenders,  criminals,  and  robbers 
on  the  largest  scale)  justly  pays  no  heed.  This  alone 
Ave  know,  that  the  early  rulers  of  London  before 
the  Christian  era  passed  away  like  the  wild  beasts 
they  fought  and  slew,  and  their  very  names  have 
perished.  One  line  of  an  old  blind  Greek  poet 
might  have  immortalised  them  among  the  motley 


nations  that  crowded  into  Troy  or  swarmed  under 
its  walls ;  but,  alas  for  them,  that  line  was  never 
written  !  No,  Founder  of  London  !  thy  name  was 
written  on  fluid  ooze  of  the  marsh,  and  the  first 
tide  that  washed  over  it  from  the  Nore  obliterated 
it  for  ever.  Yet,  perhaps  even  now  thou  sleepest 
as  quietly  fathoms  deep  in  soft  mud,  in  some  still 
nook  of  Barking  Creek,  as  if  all  the  world  was 
ringing  with  thy  glory. 

But  descending  quick  to  the  lower  but  safer  and 
firmer  ground  of  fact,  let  us  cautiously  drive  our 
first  pile  into  the  shaky  morass  of  early  London 
history, 

A  learned  modern  antiquary,  Thomas  Lewin, 
Esq.,  has  proved,  as  nearly  as  such  things  can  be 
proved,  that  Julius  Ceesar  and  8,000  men,  who 
had  sailed  from  Boulogne,  landed  near  Romney 
Marsh  about  half-past  five  o'clock  on  Sunday 
the  27th  of  August,  55  years  before  the  birth  of  our 
Saviour.  Centuries  before  that  very  remarkable 
August  day  on  which  the  brave  standard-bearer 
of  Ctcsar's  Tenth  Legion  sprang  from  his  gilt 
galley  into  the  sea  and,  eagle  in  hand,  advanced 
against  the  javelins  of  the  painted  Britons  who 
lined  the  shore,  there  is  now  no  doubt  London  was 
already  existing  as  a  British  town  of  some  import- 
ance, and  known  to  the  fishermen  and  merchants 
of  the  Gauls  and  Belgians.  Strabo,  a  Greek  geo- 
grapher who  flourished  in  the  reign  of  Augustus, 
speaks  of  British  merchants  as  bringing  to  the 
Seine  and  the  Rhine  shiploads  of  corn,  cattle,  iron, 
hides,  slaves,  and  dogs,  and  taking  bact  brass, 
ivory,  amber  ornaments,  and  vessels  of  glass. 
By  these  merchants  the  desirability  of  such  a  depot 
as  London,  with  its  great  and  always  navigable  river, 
could  not  have  been  long  overlooked. 

In  Caesar's  second  and  longer  invasion  in  the 
next  year  (54  B.C.),  when  his  28  many-oared 
triremes  and  560  transports,  &c.,  in  all  800,  poured 
on  the  same  Kentish  coast  21,000  legionaries  and 
2,000  cavalry,  there  is  little  doubt  that  his  strong 
foot  left  its  imprint  near  that  duster  of  stockaded 
huts  (more  resembling  a  New  Zealand  pah  than 
a  modern  English  town)  perhaps  already  called 
London — Ll3m-don,  the  "  town  on  the  lake." 
After  a  battle  at  Challock  Wood,  Caesar  and  his 
men  crossed  the  Thames,  as  is  supposed,  at  Coway 
Stakes,  an  ancient  ford  a  little  above  WaJton 
and  below  Weybridge.  Cassivellaunus,  King  of 
Hertfordshire  and  Middlesex,  had  just  slain  in 
war  Immanuent,  King  of  Essex,  and  had  driven  out 
his  son  Mandubert.  The  Trinobantes,  Mandu- 
bert's  subjects,  joined  the  Roman  spearmen  against 
the  4,000  scythed  chariots  of  Cassivellaunus  and 
the    Catyeuchlani.      Straight   as   the   flight   of  an 


i8 


OLD  AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Roman  London. 


arrow  was  Caesar's  march  upon  the  capital  of 
Cassivellaunus,  a  city  the  barbaric  name  of  which  he 
either  forgot  or  disregarded,  but  which  he  merely 
says  was  "  protected  by  woods  and  marshes."  This 
place  north  of  the  Thames  has  usually  been  thought 
to  be  Verulamium  (St.  Alban's) ;  but  it  was  far 
more  likely  London,  as  the  Cassi,  whose  capital 
Verulamium  was,  were  among  the  traitorous  tribes 
who  joined  Caesar  against  their  oppressor  Cas- 
sivellaunus. Moreover,  Caesar's  brief  description  of 
tlie  spot  perfectly  applies  to  Roman  London,  for 


least  is  certain,  that  the  legionaries  carried  their 
eagles  swiftly  over  his  stockades  of  earth  and  fallen 
trees,  drove  off  the  blue-stained  warriors,  and  swejjt 
off  the  half-wild  cattle  stored  up  by  the  Britons, 
Shortly  after,  Caesar  returned  to  Gaul,  having  heard 
while  in  Britain  of  the  death  of  his  favourite 
daughter  Julia,  the  wife  of  Pompey,  his  great  rival. 
His  camp  at  Richborough  or  Sandwich  was 
far  distant,  the  dreaded  equinoctial  gales  were  at 
hand,  and  Gaul,  he  knew,  might  at  any  moment 
of  his  absence  start  into  a  flame.     His  inglorious 


ANCIKNT    ROMAN    PAVEMENl'    FOUN'U    IN    THRKADXEKDLE    STREET,     184I    {seCpagC2\). 


ages  protected  on  the  north  by  a  vast  forest,  full  of 
deer  and  wild  boars,  and  which,  even  as  late  as  the 
reign  of  Henry  IL,  covered  a  great  region,  and  has 
now  shrunk  into  the  not  very  wild  districts  of  St. 
John's  Wood  and  Caen  Wood.  On  the  north  the 
town  found  a  natural  moat  in  the  broad  fens  of 
Moorfields,  Finsbury,  and  Houndsditch,  while  on 
the  south  ran  the  Fleet  and  the  Old  Bourne.  Indeed, 
according  to  that  credulous  old  enthusiast  Stukeley, 
Caesar,  marching  from  Staines  to  London,  encamped 
on  the  site  of  Old  St.  Pancras  Church,  round  which 
edifice  Stukeley  found  evident  traces  of  a  great 
Praetorian  camp.  However,  whether  Cassivellaunus, 
the  King  of  Middlesex  and  Hertfordshire,  had  his 
capital   at   London  or  St.  Alban's,  this  much  at 


campaign  had  lasted  just  four  months  and  a  half — 
his  first  had  been  far  shorter.  As  Caesar  himself 
wrote  to  Cicero,  our  rude  island  was  defended  by 
stupendous  rocks,  there  was  not  a  scrap  of  the 
gold  that  had  been  reported,  and  the  only  pros- 
pect of  booty  was  in  slaves,  from  whom  there  could 
be  expected  neither  "  skill  in  letters  nor  in  music." 
In  sober  truth,  all  Csesar  had  won  from  the  people 
of  Kent  and  Hertfordshire  had  been  blows  and 
buffets,  for  there  were  men  in  Britain  even  then. 
The  prowess  of  the  British  charioteers  became  a 
standing  joke  in  Rome  against  the  soldiers  of 
Caesar.  Horace  and  Tibullus  both  speak  of  the 
Briton  as  unconquered.  The  steel  bow  the  strong 
Roman   hand   had   for   a   moment   bent,    quickly 


Roman  London.] 


DERIVATION   OF   ITS   NAME. 


19 


relapsed  to  its  old  shape  the  moment  Caesar,  mount- 
ing his  tall  galley,  turned  his  eyes  towards  Gaul. 

The  Mandubert  who  sought  Csesar's  help  is  by 
some  thought  to  be  the  son  of  the  semi-fabulous 
King  Lud  (King  Brown),  the  mythical  founder 
of  London,  and,  according  to  Milton,  who,  as  we 
have  said,  follows  the  old  historians,  a  descendant 


conjecture  is,  however,  now  the  most  generally  re- 
ceived, as  it  at  once  gives  the  modem  pronunciation,' 
to  which  Llyn-don  would  never  have  assimilated. 
The  first  British  town  was  indeed  a  simple  Celtic  hill 
fortress,  formed  first  on  Tower  Hill,  and  afterwards 
continued  to  Comhill  and  Ludgate.  It  was  moated 
on  the  south  by  the  river,  which  it  controlled; 


"vT^V'Yvcr^ 


PART  OF   OLD   LONDON   WALL,    NEAR  FALCON   SQUARE  {see ^ge  2l). 


of  Brute  of  Troy.  The  successor  of  the  warlike 
Cassivellaunus  had  his  capital  at  St.  Alban's ;  his 
son  Cunobelin  (Shakespeare's  Cymbeline) — a  name 
which  seems  to  glow  with  perpetual  sunshine  as 
we  write  it — had  a  palace  at  Colchester;  and 
the  son  of  Cunobelin. was  the  famed  Caradoc,  or 
Caractacus,  that  hero  of  the  Silures,  who  struggled 
bravely  for  nine  long  years  against  the  generals  of 
Rome. 

Celtic  etymologists  differ,  as  etymologists  usually 
do,  about  the  derivation  of  the  name  of  London. 
Lon,  or  Long,  meant,  they  say,  either  a  lake,  a  wood, 
a  populous  place,  a  plain,  or  a  ship-town.     This  last 


by  fens  on  the  north ;  and  on  the  east  by  the 
marshy  low  ground  of  Wapping.  It  was  a  high,  dry, 
and  fortified  point  of  communication  between  the 
river  and  the  inland  country  of  Essex  and  Hert- 
fordshire, a  safe  sixty  miles  from  the  sea,  and 
central  as  a  depot  and  meeting-place  for  the  tribes 
of  Kent  and  Middlesex. 

Hitherto  the  London  about  which  we  have  been 
conjecturing  has  been  a  mere  cloud  city.  The 
first  mention  of  real  London  is  by  Tacitus,  who, 
writing  in  the  reign  of  Nero  (a.d.  62,  more  than 
a  century  after  the  landing  of  Csesar),  in  that  style 
of  his  so  full  of  vigour  and  so  sharp  in  outline, 


20 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Roman  London. 


that  it  seems  fit  rather  to  be  engraved  on  steel 
than  written  on  perishable  paper,  says  that  Londi- 
nium,  though  not,  indeed,  dignified  with  the  name 
of  colony,  was  a  place  highly  celebrated  for  the 
number  of  its  merchants  and  the  confluence  of 
traffic.  In  the  year  62  London  was  probably  still 
without  walls,  and  its  inhabitants  were  not  Roman 
citizens,  like  those  of  Verulamium  (St.  Alban's). 
When  the  Britons,  roused  by  the  wrongs  of  the  fierce 
Boadicea  (Queen  of  the  Iceni,  the  people  of 
Norfolk  and  Suffolk),  bore  down  on  London,  her 
back  still  "  bleeding  from  the  Roman  rods,"  she  slew 
in  London  and  Verulamium  alone  70,000  citizens 
and  allies  of  Rome ;  impaling  many  beautiful  and 
well-born  women,  amid  revelling  sacrifices,  in  the 
grove  of  Andate,  the  British  Goddess  of  Victory. 
It  is  supposed  that  after  this  reckless  slaughter  the 
tigress  and  her  savage  followers  burned  the  cluster 
of  wooden  houses  that  then  formed  London  to  the 
ground.  Certain  it  is,  that  when  deep  sections  were 
made  for  a  sewer  in  Lombard  Street  in  1786,  the 
lowest  stratum  consisted  of  tesselated  Roman  pave- 
ments, their  coloured  dice  laying  scattered  Uke  flower 
leaves,  and  above  that  of  a  thick  layer  of  wood 
ashes,  as  of  the  debris  of  charred  wooden  buildings. 
This  ruin  the  Romans  avenged  by  the  slaughter  of 
80,000  Britons  in  a  butchering  fight,  generally  be- 
lieved to  have  taken  place  at  King's  Cross  (otherwise 
Battle  Bridge),  after  which  the  fugitive  Boadicea, 
in  rage  and  despair,  took  poison  and  perished. 

London  probably  soon  sprang,  phoenix-like,  from 
the  fire,  though  history  leaves  it  in  darkness  to 
enjoy  a  lull  of  200  years.  In  the  early  part  of  the 
second  century  Ptolemy,  the  geographer,  speaks  of 
it  as  a  city  of  the  Kentish  people  ;  but  Mr.  Craik 
very  ingeniously  conjectures  that  the  Greek  writer 
took  his  information  from  Phoenician  works  de- 
scriptive of  Britain,  written  before  even  the  invasion 
of  Cresar.  Theodosius,  a  general  of  the  Emperor 
Valentinian,  who  saved  London  from  gathered 
hordes  of  Scots,  Picts,  Franks,  and  Saxons,  is  sup- 
posed to  have  repaired  the  walls  of  London,  which 
had  been  first  built  by  the  Emperor  Constantine 
early  in  the  fourth  century.  -In  the  reign  of 
Theodosius,  London,  now  called  Augusta,  became 
one  of  the  chief,  if  not  the  chief,  of  the  seventy 
Roman  cities  in  Britain.  In  the  famous  "  Itinerary  " 
of  Antoninus  (about  the  end  of  the  third  century) 
London  stands  as  the  goal  or  starting-point  of 
seven  out  of  the  fifteen  great  central  Roman  roads 
in  England.  Camden  considers  the  London  Stone, 
now  enshrined  in  the  south  wall  of  St.  Swithin's 
Church,  Cannon  Street,  to  have  been  the  central 
milestone  of  Roman  England,  from  which  all  the 
chief  roads  radiated,  and  by  which  the  distances 


were  reckoned.  Wyen  supposed  that  AVatling 
Street,  of  which  Cannon  Street  is  a  part,  was  the 
High  Street  of  Roman  London.  Another  street  ran 
west  along  Holborn  from  Cheapside,  and  from 
Cheapside  probably  north.  A  northern  road  ran 
by  Aldgate,  and  probably  Bishopsgate.  The  road 
from  Dover  came  either  over  a  bridge  near  the  site 
of  the  present  London  Bridge,  or  higher  up  at 
Dowgate,  from  Stoney  Street  on  the  Surrey  side. 

Early  Roman  London  was  scarcely  larger  than 
Hyde  Park.  Mr.  Roach  Smith,  the  best  of  all 
authorities  on  the  subject,  gives  its  length  from  the 
Tower  to  Ludgate,  east  and  west,  at  about  a  mile ; 
and  north  and  south,  that  is  from  London  Wall  to 
the  Thames,  at  about  half  a  mile.  The  earliest 
Roman  city  was  even  smaller,  for  Roman  sepulchres 
have  been  found  in  Bow  Lane,  Moorgate  Street, 
Bishopsgate  Within,  which  must  at  that  time  have 
been  beyond  the  walls.  The  Roman  cemeteries  of 
Smithfield,  St.  Paul's,  Whitechapel,  the  Minories, 
and  Spitalfields,  are  of  later  dates,  and  are  in  all 
cases  beyond  the  old'  line  of  circumvallation, 
according  to  the  sound  Roman  custom  fixed  by  law. 
The  eariier  London  Mr.  Roach  Smith  describes 
as  an  irregular  space,  the  five  main  gates  correspond- 
ing with  Bridgegate,  Ludgate,  Bishopsgate,  Alders- 
gate,  and  Aldgate.  The  north  wall  followed  for 
some  part  the  course  of  Cornhill  and  Leadenhall 
Street ;  the  eastern  Billiter  Street  and  Mark  Lane ; 
the  southern  Thames  Street ;  and  the  western  the 
east  side  of  Walbrook,  Of  the  larger  Roman  wall, 
there  were  within  the  memory  of  man  huge,  shape- 
less masses,  with  trees  growing  upon  them,  opposite 
what  is  now  Finsbury  Circus.  In  1852  a  piece  of 
Roman  wall  on  Tower  Hill  was  rescued  from  the 
improvers,  and  built  into  some  stables  and  out- 
houses ;  but  not  before  a  careful  sketch  had  been 
effected  by  the  late  Mr.  Fairholt,  one  of  the  best  of 
our  antiquarian  draughtsmen.  The  later  Roman 
London  was  in  general  outline  the  same  in  shape 
and  size  as  the  London  of  the  Saxons  and  Nor- 
mans. The  newer  walls  Pennant  calculates  at 
3  miles  165  feet  in  circumference,  they  were  22  feet 
high,  and  guarded  with  forty  lofty  towers.  At  the 
end  of  the  last  century  large  portions  of  the  old 
Roman  wall  were  traceable  in  many  places,  but 
time  has  devoured  almost  the  last  morsels  of  that 
^edX  pike  de  resisfafice.  In  1763  Mr.  Gough  made 
a  drawing  of  a  square  Roman  tower  (one  of  three) 
then  standing  in  Houndsditch.  It  was  built  in 
alternate  layers  of  massive  square  stones  and  red 
tiles.  The  old  loophole  for  the  sentinel  had  been 
enlarged  into  a  square  latticed  window.  In  1857, 
while  digging  foundations  for  houses  on  the  north- 
east side  of  Aldermanbury  Postern,  the  workmen 


Roman  London.] 


REMAINS   OF   ROMAN   WALL. 


21 


came  on  a  portion  of  the  Roman  wall  strengthened 
by  blind  arches.  All  tlmt  now  subs  tan  tiaHy  remains 
of  the  old  fortification  is  a  bastion  in  St.  Giles's 
Church,  Cripplegate  ;  a  fragment  in  St.  Martin's 
Court, off  Ludgate  Hill;  another  portion  exists  in  the 
Old  Bailey,  concealed  behind  houses  ;  and  a  fourth, 
near  George  Street,  Tower  Hill.  Portions  of  the 
wall  have,  however,  been  also  broached  in  Falcon 
Square  (one  of  which  we  have  engraved).  Bush 
Lane,  Scott's  Yard,  and  Cornhill,  and  others  built 
in  cellars  and  warehouses  from  opposite  the  Tower 
and  Cripplegate. 

The  line  of  the  Roman  walls  ran  from  the 
Tower  straight  to  Aldgate  ;  there  making  an 
angle,  it  continued  to  Bishopsgate.  From  there 
it  turned  eastward  to  St.  Giles's  Churchyard,  where 
it  veered  south  to  Falcon  Square.  At  this  point  it 
continued  west  to  Aldersgate,  running  under  Christ's 
Hospital,  and  onward  to  Giltspur  Street.  There 
forming  an  angle,  it  proceeded  directly  to  Ludgate 
towards  the  Thames,  passing  to  the  south  of  St. 
Andrew's  Church.  The  wall  then  crossed  Addle 
Street,  and  took  a  course  along  Upper  and 
Lower  Thames  Street  towards  the  Tower.  In 
Thames  Street  the  wall  has  been  found  built  on 
oaken  piles ;  on  these  was  laid  a  stratum  of  chalk 
and  stones,  and  over  this  a  course  of  large,  hewn 
sandstones,  cemented  with  quicklime,  sand,  and 
pounded  tile.  The  body  of  the  wall  was  con- 
structed of  ragstone,  flint,  and  lime,  bonded  at 
intervals  with  courses  of  plain  and  curve-edged  tiles. 

That  Roman  London  grew  slowly  there  is 
abundant  proof.  In  building  the  new  Exchange, 
the  workmen  came  on  a  gravel-pit  full  of  oyster- 
shells,  cattle  bones,  old  sandals,  and  shattered 
pottery.  No  coin  found  there  being  later  than 
Severus  indicates  that  this  ground  was  bare  waste 
outside  the  original  city  until  at  least  the  latter 
part  of  the  third  century.  How  far  Roman 
London  eventually  spread  its  advancing  waves 
of  houses  may  be  seen  from  the  fact  that  Roman 
wall-paintings,  indicating  villas  of  men  of  wealth 
and  position,  have  been  found  on  both  sides  of 
High  Street,  Southwark,  almost  up  to  St.  George's 
Church;  while  one  of  the  outlying  Roman 
cemeteries  bordered  the  Kent  Road. 

From  the  horns  of  cattle  having  been  dug  up  in 
St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  the  monks,  ever  eager  to 
discover  traces  of  that  Paganism  with  which  they 
amalgamated  Christianity,  conjectured  that  a  temple 
of  Diana  once  stood  on  the  site  of  St.  Paul's.  A 
stone  altar,  with  a  rude  figure  of  the  amazon 
goddess  sculptured  upon  it,  was  indeed  discovered 
in  making  the  foundations  for  Goldsmiths'  Hall, 
Cheapside  \  but  this  was  a  mere  votive  or  private  j 


altar,  and  proves  nothing;  and  the  ox  bones,  if 
any,  found  at  St.  Paul's^  were  merely  refuse  thrown 
into  a  rubbish-heap  outside  the  old  walls.  As 
to  the  Temple  of  Apollo,  supposed  to  have  been 
replaced  by  Westminster  Abbey,  that  is  merely  an 
invention  of  rival  monks  to  glorify  Thorney  Island, 
and  to  render  its  antiquity  equal  to  the  fabulous 
claims  of  St.  Paul's.  Nor  is  there  any  positive 
proof  that  shrines  to  British  gods  ever  stood  on 
either  place,  though  that  they  may  have  done  so  is 
not  at  all  improbable. 

The  existing  relics  of  Roman  London  are  far 
more  valuable  and  more  numerous  than  is  gene- 
rally supposed.  Innumerable  tesselated  pavements, 
masterpieces  of  artistic  industry  and  taste,  have 
been  found  in  the  City.  A  few  of  these  should  be 
noted.  In  1854  part  of  the  pavement  of  a  room, 
twenty-eight  feet  square,  was  discovered,  when  the 
Excise  Office  was  pulled  down,  between  Bishops- 
gate  Street  and  Broad  Street.  The  central  subject 
was  supposed  to  be  the  Rape  of  Europa.  A  few 
years  before  another  pavement  was  met  with  near 
the  same  spot.  In  1841  two  pavements  were  dug 
up  under  the  French  Protestant  Church  in  Thread- 
needle  Street.  The  best  of  these  we  have  en- 
graved. In  1792  a  circular  pavement  was  found 
in  the  same  locality;  and  there  has  also  been 
dug  up  in  the  same  street  a  curious  female  head, 
the  size  of  life,  formed  of  coloured  stones  and 
glass.  In  1805  a  beautiful  Roman  pavement  was 
disinterred  on  the  south-west  angle  of  the  Bank  of 
England,  near  the  gate  opening  into  Lothbury, 
and  is  now  in  the  British  Museum,  In  1803  a  fine 
specimen  of  pavement  was  found  in  front  of  the 
East-India  House,  Leadenhall  Street,  the  central 
design  being  Bacchus  reclining  on  a  panther.  In 
this  pavement  twenty  distinct  tints  had  been  suc- 
cessfully used.  Other  pavements  have  been  cut 
through  in  Crosby  Square,,  Bartholemew  Lane, 
Fenchurch  Street,  and  College  Street,  The  soil, 
according  to  Mr.  Roach  Smith,  seems  to  have 
risen  over  them  at  the  rate  of  nearly  a  foot  a 
century. 

The  statuary  found  in  London  should  also  not 
be  forgotten.  One  of  the  most  remarkable  pieces 
was  a  colossal  bronze  head  of  the  Emperor 
Hadrian,  dredged  up  from  the  Thames  a  little 
below  London  Bridge.  It  is  now  in  the  British 
Museum.  A  colossal  bronze  hand,  thirteen 
inches  long,  was  also  found  in  Thames  Street, 
near  the  Tower.  In  1857,  near  London  Bridge, 
the  dredgers  found  a  beautiful  bronze  Apollino,  a 
Mercury  of  exquisite  design,  a  priest  of  Cybele, 
and  a  figure  supposed  to  be  Jupiter.  The  Apollino 
and  Mercury  are  masterpieces  of  ideal  beauty  and 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


(Tempi*  Bar. 


grace.  In  1842  a  chef  d'oeiivrev^ds  dug  out  near 
the  old  Roman  wall  in  Queen  Street,  Cheapside. 
It  was  the  bronze  stooping  figure  of  an  archer.  It 
has  silver  eyes;  and  the  perfect  expression  and 
anatomy  display  the  highest  art 

In  1825  a  graceful  little  silver  figure  of  the  child 
Harpocrates,  the  God  of  Silence,  looped  with  a  gold 
chain,  was  found  in  the  Thames,  and  is  now  in  the 
British  Museum.  In  1839  a  pair  of  gold  armlets 
were  dug  up  in  Queen  Street,  Cheapside.  In  a 
kiln  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  in  1677,  there  were 
found  lamps,  bottles,  urns,  and  dishes.  Among 
other  relics  of  Roman  London  drifted  down  by  time 
we_  may  instance  articles  of  red  glazed  potter}',  tiles, 
glass  cups,  ^vindow  glass,  bath  scrapers,  gold  hair- 
pins, enamelled  clasps,  sandals,  writing  tablets, 
bronze  spoons,  forks,  distaffs,  bells,  dice,  and  mill- 
stones. As  for  coins,  which  the  Romans  seem  to 
have  hid  in  every  conceivable  nook,  Mr.  Roach 
Smith  says  that  within  twenty  years  upwards  of 
2,000  were,  to  his  own  knowledge,  found  in 
London,  chiefly  in  the  bed  of  the  Thames.  Only 
one  Greek  coin,  as  far  as  we  know,  has  ever  been 
met  with  in  London  excavations. 


The  Romans  left  deep  footprints  wherever  they 
trod.  Many  of  our  London  streets  still  follow  the 
lines  they  first  laid  down.  The  river  bank  still 
heaves  beneath  the  ruins  of  their  palaces.  London 
Stone,  as  we  have  already  shown,  still  stands  to 
mark  the  starting-point  of  the  great  roads  that  they 
designed.  In  a  lane  out  of  the  Strand  there  still 
exists  a  bath  where  their  sinewy  youth  laved  their 
limbs,  dusty  from  the  chariot  races  at  the  Campus 
Martius  at  Finsbury.  The  pavements  trodden  by 
the  feet  of  Hadrian  and  Constantine  still  lie  buried 
under  the  restless  wheels  that  roll  over  our  City 
streets.  The  ramparts  the  legionaries  guarded 
have  not  yet  quite  crumbled  to  dust,  though  the 
rude  people  they  conquered  have  themselves  long 
since  grown  into  conquerors.  Roman  London  now 
exists  only  in  fragments,  invisible  save  to  the 
prying  antiquary.  As  the  seed  is  to  be  found 
hanging  to  the  root  of  the  ripe  wheat,  so  some 
filaments  of  the  first  germ  of  London,  of  the  British 
hut  and  the  Roman  villa,  still  exist  hidden  under 
the  foundations  of  the  busy  city  that  now  teems 
with  thousands  of  inhabitants.  .  We  tread  under 
foot  daily  the  pride  of  our  old  oppressors. 


CHAPTER     II, 


TEMPLE   BAR. 


Temple  Bar — The  Oolgotha  of  English  Traitors — When  Temple  Bar  was  made  of  Wood — Historical  Pageants  at  Temple  Bar — The  Associations  of 
Temple  Bar — Mischievous  Processions  through  Temple  Bar— The  First  grim  Trophy — Rye-House  Plot  Conspirators. 

The  Great  Fire  never  reached  nearer  Temple 
Bar  than  the  Inner  Temple,  on  tlie  south  side  of 
Fleet  Steet,  and  St.  Dunstan's  Church,  on  the 
north. 

The  Bar  is  of  Portland  stone,  which  London 
smoke  alternately  blackens  and  calcines  ;  and  each 
facade  has  four  Corinthian  pilasters,  an  entablature, 
and  an  arched  pediment.  On  the  west  (Strand) 
side,  in  two  niches,  stand,  as  eternal  sentries, 
Charles  I.  and  Charles  II.,  in  Roman  costume. 
Charles  I.  has  long  ago  lost  his  baton,  as  he  once 
dehberately  lost  his  head.  Over  the  keystone  of 
the  central  arch  there  used  to  be  the  royal  arms.  On 
the  east  side  are  James  I.  and  Elizabeth  (by  many 
able  writers  supposed  to  be  Anne  of  Denmark, 
James  I.'s  queen).  She  is  pointing  her  white 
finger  at  Child's ;  while  he,  looking  down  on  the 
passing  cabs,  seems  to  say,  "  I  am  nearly  tired  of 
standing;  suppose  we  go  to  Whitehall,  and  sit 
down  a  bit?" 

The  slab  over  the  eastern  side  of  the  arch  bears 
the  following  inscription,  now  all  but  smoothed 
down  by  time  : — 


Temple  Bar  was  rebuilt  by  Sir  Christopher  Wren, 
in  1670-72,  soon  after  the  Great  Fire  had  swept  away 
eighty-nine  London  churches,  four  out  of  the  seven 
City  gates,  460  streets,  and  13,200  houses,  and  had 
destroyed  fifteen  of  the  twenty-six  wards,  and  laid 
waste  436  acres  of  buildings,  from  the  Tower  east- 
ward to  the  Inner  Temple  westward. 

The  old  black  gateway,  once  the  dreaded  G0I-, 
gotha  of  English  traitors,  separates,  it  should  be 
remembered,  the  Strand  from  Fleet  Street,  the  city 
from  the  shire,  and  the  Freedom  of  the  City  of 
London  from  the  Liberty  of  the  City  of  Westminster. 
As  Hatton  (1708 — Queen  Anne)  says, — "  This  gate 
opens  not  immediately  into  the  City  itself,  but  into 
the  Liberty  or  Freedom  thereof."  We  need  hardly 
say  that  nothing  can  be  more  erroneous  than  the 
ordinary  London  supposition  that  Temple  Bar  ever 
formed  part  of  the  City  fortifications.  Mr.  Gilbert 
"k  Beckett,  laughing  at  this  tradition,  once  said  in 
Punch :  "  Temple  Bar  has  always  seemed  to  me 
a  weak  point  in  the  fortifications  of  London.  Bless 
you,  the  besieging  army  would  never  stay  to  bom- 
bard it — they  would  dash  through  the  barber's." 


Temple  Bar.] 


THE   ASSOCIATIONS   OF  TEMPLE   BAR. 


23 


"  Erected  in  tlie  year  1670,  Sir  Samuel  Starling,  Mayor  ; 
coHtiniied  in  the  year  1671,  Sir  Richard  Ford,  Lord  Mayor  ; 
and  finished  in  the  year,  1672,  Sir  George  Waterman,  Lord 
Mayor." 

All  these  persons  were  friends  of  Pepys. 

The  upper  part  of  the  Bar  is  flanked  by  scrolls, 
but  the  fruit  and  flowers  once  sculptured  on  the 
pedinient,  and  the  supporters  of  the  royal  arms 
over  the  posterns,  have  crumbled  away.  ..  In  the 
centre  of  each  fagade  is  a  semicirciilar-headed, 
ecclesiastical-looking  window,  that  casts  a  dim 
horny  light  into  a  room  above  the  gate,  held  of  the 
City,  at  an  annual  rent  of  some  ^S°)  by  Messrs. 
Childs,  the  bankers,  as  a  sort  of  muniment-room 
for  their  old  account-books.  There  is  here  pre- 
served, among  other  costlier  treasures  of  Mammon, 
the  private  account-book  of  Charles  II.  The 
original  Child  was  a  friend  of  Pepys,  and  is  men- 
tioned by  him  as  quarrelling  v.dth  the  Duke  of 
York  on  Admiralty  matters.  The  Child  who 
succeeded  him  was  a  friend  of  Pope,  and  all  but 
led  him  into  the  South-Sea  Bubble  speculation. 

Those  affected,  mean  statues,  with  the  crinkly 
drapery,  were  the  work  of  a  vain,  half-crazed 
sculptor  named  John  Bushnell,  who  died  mad  in 
1701.  Bushnell,  who  had  visited  Rome  and 
Venice,  executed  Cowley's  monument  in  West- 
minster Abbey,  and  the  statues  of  Charles  I., 
Charles  II.,  and  Gresham,  in  the  Old  Exchange. 

There  is  no  extant  historical  account  of  Temple 
Bar  in  which  the  following  passage  from  Strype 
(George  I.)  is  net  to  be  found  embedded  like  a 
fossil ;  it  is,  in  fact,  nearly  all  we  London  topo- 
graphers know  of  the  early  history  of  the  Bar  : — 
"  Anciently,"  says  Strype,  "  there  were  only  posts, 
rails,  and  a  chain,  such  as  are  now  in  Holborn, 
Smithfield,  and  Whitechapel  bars.  Afterwards  there 
was  a  house  of  timber  erected  across  the  street, 
with  a  narrow  gateway  and  an  entry  on  the  south 
side  of  it  under  the  house."  This  structure  is  to 
be  seen  in  the  bird's-eye  view  of  London,  1601 
(EKzabeth),  and  in  Hollar's  seven-sheet  map  of 
London  (Charles  II.) 

The  date  of  the  erec'don  of  the  "  wooden  house  " 
is  not  to  be  ascertained  ;  but  there  is  the  house 
plain  enough  in  a  view  of  London  to  which  Mait- 
land  affixes  the  date  about  1560  (the  second  year 
of  Elizabeth),  so  we  may  perhaps  safely  put  it 
down  as  early  as  Edward  VI.  or  Henry  VIII. 
Indeed,  if  a  certain  scrap  of  history  is  correct — ie., 
that  bluff  King  Hal  once  threatened,  if  a  certain 
Bill  did  not  pass  the  Commons  a  little  quicker,  to 
fix  the  heads  of  several  refractory  M.P.s  on 
the  top  of  Temple  Bar — we  must  suppose  the 
old  City  toll-gate  to  be  as  old  as  the  early  Tudors. 


After  Simon  de  Montfort's  death,  at  the  battle 
of  Evesham,  1265,  Prince  Edward,  afterwards 
Edward  I.,  punished  the  rebellious  Londoners, 
who  had  befriended  Montfort,  by  taking  away  all 
their  street  chains  and  bars,  and  locking  them  up 
in  the  Tower. 

The  earliest  known  documentary  and  historical 
notice  of  Teniple  Bar  is  in  1327,  the  first  year  of 
Edward  III.  ;  and  in  the  thirty-fourth  year  of  the 
same  reign  we  find,  at  an  inquisition  before  the 
mayor,  twelve  witnesses  deposing  that  the  com- 
monalty of  the  City  had,  time  out  of  mind,  had 
free  ingress  and  egress  from  the  City  to  Thames 
and  from  Thames  to  the  City,  through  the  great 
gate  of  the  Templars  situate  within  Temple  Bar. 
This  referred  to  some  dispute  about  the  right  of 
way  through  the  Temple,  built  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  I.  In  1384  Richard  II.  granted  a  licence 
for  paving  Strand  Street  from  Temple  Bar  to  the 
Savoy,  and  collecting  tolls  to  cover  such  charges. 

The  historical  pageants  that  have  taken  place  at 
Temple  Bar  deserve  a  notice,  however  short.  On 
the  5th  of  November,  1422,  the  corpse  of  that 
brave  and  chivalrous  king,  the  h-ero  of  Agincourt, 
Henry  V.,  was  borne  to  its  rest  at  Westminster 
Abbey  by  the  chief  citizens  and  nobles,  and  eveiy 
doorway  from  Southwark  to  Temple  Bar  had  its 
mournful  torch-bearer.  In  1502-3  the  hearse  of 
Elizabeth  of  York,  queen  of  Henry  VII.,  halted  at 
Temple  Bar,  on  its  way  from  the  Tower  to  West- 
minster, and  at  the  Bar  the  Abbots  of  Westminster 
and  Bermondsey  blessed  the  corpse,  and  the  Earl 
of  Derby  and  a  large  company  of  nobles  joined 
the  sable  funeral  throng.  After  sorrow  came  joy, 
and  after  joy  sorrow — /^a  vita.  In  the  next  reign 
poor  Anne  Beleyn,  radiant  with  happiness  and 
triumph,  came  through  the  Ba-r  (May  31,  1534),  ©n 
her  way  to  the  Tower,  to  be  welcomed  by  the 
clamorous  citizens,  the  day  before  her  ill-starred 
coronation.  Temple  Bar  on  that  occasion  was 
new  painted  and  repaired,  and  near  it  stood  singing 
men  and  children — the  Fleet  Street  conduit  all 
the  time  running  claret.  The  old  gate  figures 
more  conspicuously  the  day  before  the  coronation 
of  that  wondrous  child,  Edward  VI.  Two  hogs- 
heads of  wine  were  then  ladled  out  to  the  tliirsty 
mob,  and  the  gate  at  Temple  Bar  was  painted  with 
battlements  and  buttresses,  richly  hung  with  cloth 
of  Arras,  and  all  in  a  flutter  with  "fourteen 
standard  flags."  There  were  eight  French  tnim- 
peters  blowing  their  best,  besides  "a  pair  of 
regals,"  with  children  singing  to  the  same.  In 
September,  1553,  when  Edward's  cold-hearted 
half-sister,  Mary  Tudor,  came  through  the  City, 
according    to   ancient    English   custom,    the   day 


24 


OLD   AND    NEW   LONDON. 


[Temple  Bar, 


Temple  Bar] 


GOG  AND   MAGOG. 


25 


before  her  coronation,  she  did  not  ride  on  horse- 
back, as  Edward  had  done,  but  sat  in  a  chariot 
covered  with  cloth  of  tissue  and  dra^vn  by  six 
horses  draped  with  the  same.  Minstrels  piped 
and  trumpeted  at  Ludgate,  and  Temple  Bar  was 
newly  painted  and  hung. 

Old  Temple  Bar,  the  background  to  many 
historical  scenes,  figures  in  the  rash  rebellion  of 
Sir  Thomas  Wyatt.  When  he  had  fought  his  way 
down  Piccadilly  to  the  Strand,  Temple  Bar  was 
thrown   open   to   him,    or   forced   open   by  him ; 


God  solemnly  at  St.  Paul's.  The  City  waits  stood 
in  triumph  on  the  roof  of  the  gate.  The  Lord 
Mayor  and  Aldermen,  in  scarlet  gowns,  welcomed 
the  queen  and  delivered  up  the  City  sword,  then 
on  her  return  they  took  horse  and  rode  before  her. 
The  City  Companies  lined  the  north  side  of  the 
street,  the  lawyers  and  gentlemen  of  the  Inns 
of  Court  the  south.  Among  the  latter  stood  a 
person  afterwards  not  altogether  unknown,  one 
Francis  Bacon,  who  displayed  his  wit  by  saying 
to   a  friend,   "  Mark  the   courtiers  !     Those  who 


bat  when  he  lad  been  repulsed  at  Ludgate  he 
Avas  hemmed  in  by  cavalry  at  Temple  Bar,  where 
he  surrendered.  This  foolish  revolt  led  to  the 
death  of  innocent  Lady  Jane  Grey,  and  brought 
sixty  brave  gentlemen  to  the  scaffold  and  the 
gallows. 

On  Elizabeth's  procession  from  the  Tower  be- 
fore her  coronation,  January,  1559,  Gogmagog  the 
Albion,  and  Corineus  the  Briton,  the  two  Guildhall 
giants,  stood  on  the  Bar;  and  on  the  south  side 
there  were  chorister  lads,  one  of  whom,  richly 
attired  as  a  page,  bade  the  queen  farewell  in  the 
name  of  the  whole  City.  In  1 5  f  8,  the  glorious  year 
that  the  Armada  was  defeated,  Elizabeth  passed 
through  the  Bar  on  her  way  to  return  thanks  to 


bow  first  to  the  citizens  are  in  debt;  those  who 
bow  first  to  us  are  at  law!" 

In  1601,  when  the  Earl  of  Essex  made  his  insane 
attempt  to  rouse  the  City  to  rebellion.  Temple  Bar, 
we  are  told,  was  thrown  open  to  him;  but  Ludgate 
being  closed  against  him  on  his  retreat  from  Cheaj)- 
side,  he  came  back  by  boat  to  Essex  House,  where 
he  surrendered  after  a  short  and  useless  resistance. 

King  James  made  his  first  public  entry  into  his 
royal  City  of  London,  with  his  consort  and  son 
Henry,  upon  the  15th  of  March,  1603-4.  The 
king  was  mounted  upon  a  white  genet,  ambling 
through  the  crowded  streets  under  a  canopy  held 
by  eight  gentlemen  of  the  Privy  Chamber,  as  re- 
presentatives of  the  Barons  of  the  Cinque  Ports, 


26 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Temple  Bar. 


and  passed  under  six  arches  of  triumph,  to  take 
his  leave  at  the  Temple  of  Janus,  erected  for  the 
occasion  at  Temple  Bar.  This  edifice  was  fifty- 
seven  feet  high,  proportioned  in  every  respect  like 
a  temple. 

In  June,  1649  {^^^^  7^^^  ^^  the  execution  of 
Charles),  Cromwell  and  the  Parliament  dined  at 
Guildhall  in  state,  and  the  mayor,  says  Whitelocke, 
delivered  up  the  sword  to  the  Speaker,  at  Temple 
Bar,  as  he  had  before  done  to  King  Charles. 

Philips,  Milton's  nephew,  who  wrote  the  con- 
tinuation of  Baker's  Chronicle,  describes  the  cere- 
mony at  Temple  Bar  on  the  proclamation  of 
Charles  IL  The  old  oak  gates  being  shut,  the 
king-at-arms,  with  tabard  on  and  trumpet  before 
him,  knocked  and  gravely  demanded  entrance. 
The  Lord  Mayor  appointed  some  one  to  ask 
who  knocked.  The  king-at-arms  replied,  that  if 
they  would  open  the  wicket,  and  let  the  Lord 
Mayor  come  thither,  he  would  to  him  deliver 
his  message.  The  Lord  Mayor  then  appeared, 
tremendous  in  crimson  velvet  gown,  and  on  horse- 
back, of  all  things  in  the  world,  the  trumpets 
sounding  as  the  gallant  knight  pricked  forth  to 
demand  of  the  herald,  who  he  was  and  what  was 
his  message.  The  bold  herald,  with  his  hat  on, 
answered,  regardless  of  Lindley  Munay,  who 
was  yet  unknown,  "We  are  the  herald-at-arms 
appointed  and  commanded  by  the  Lords  and 
Commons  assembled  in  Parliament,  and  demand 
an  entrance  into  the  famous  City  of  London,  to 
proclaim  Charles  II.  King  of  England,  Scotland, 
France,  and  Ireland,  and  we  expect  your  speedy 
answer  to  our  demand."  An  alderman  then  re- 
plied, "  The  message  is  accepted,"  and  the  gates 
were  thrown  open. 

When  William  III.  came  to  see  the  City  and 
the  Lord  Mayor's  Show  in  i68g,  the  City  militia, 
holding  lighted  flambeaux,  lined  Fleet  Street  as 
far  as  Temple  Bar. 

The  shadow  of  every  monarch  and  popular  hero 
since  Charles  Il.'s  time  has  rested  for  at  least  a 
passing  moment  at  the  old  gateway.  Queen  Anne 
passed  here  to  return  thanks  at  St.  Paul's  for  the 
victory  of  Blenheim.  Here  Marlborough's  coach 
ominously  broke  down  in  17 14,  when  he  returned 
in  triumph  from  his  voluntary  exile. 

George  III.  passed  through  Teniple  Bar,  young 
and  happy,  the  year  after  his  coronation,  and  again 
when,  old  and  almost  broken-hearted,  he  returned 
thanks  for  his  partial  recovery  from  insanity;  and 
in  our  time  that  graceless  son  of  his,  the  Prince 
Regent,  came  through  tlie  Bar  in  18 14,  to  thank 
God  at  St.  Paul's  for  the  downfall  of  Bonaparte. 

On  the  9th  November,   1837,  the  accession  of 


Queen  Victoria,  Sir  Peter  Laurie,  picturesque  in 
scarlet  gown,  Spanish  hat,  and  black  feathers,  pre- 
sented the  City  sword  to  the  Queen  at  Temple 
Bar;  Sir  Peter  was  again  ready  with  tlie  same 
weapon  in  1844,  when  the  Queen  opened  the  new 
Royal  Exchange;  but  in  1851,  when  her  Majesty 
once  more  visited  the  City,  the  old  ceremony  was 
(wrongly,  we  think)  dispensed  ^Tidi. 

At  the  funeral  of  Lord  Nelson,  the  honoured 
corpse,  followed  by  downcast  old  sailors,  was  met 
at  the  Bar  by  the  Lord  Mayor  and  the  Corporation; 
and  the  Great  Duke's  funeral  car,  and  the  long 
train  of  representative  soldiers,  rested  at  the  Bar, 
which  was  hung  with  black  velvet. 

A  few  earlier  associations  connected  with  the 
present  Bar  deserve  a  moment  or  two's  recollection. 
On  February  12th,  when  General  Monk — "Honest 
George,"  as  his  old  Cromwellian  soldiers  used  to 
call  him — entered  London,  dislodged  the  "Rump" 
Parliament,  and  prepared  for  the  Restoration 
of  Charles  IL,  bonfires  were  lit,  the  City  bells 
rung,  and  London  broke^  into  a  sudden  flame  of 
joy.  Pepys,  walking  homeward  about  ten  o'clock, 
says  :  —  "  The  common  joy  was  everywhere  to 
be  seen.  The  number  of  bonfires — there  being 
fourteen  between  St.  Dunstan's  and  Temple  Bar, 
and  at  Strand  Bridge,  east  of  Catherine  Street,  I 
could  at  one  time  tell  thirty-one  fires." 

On  November  17,  1679,  the  year  after  the  sham 
Popish  Plot  concocted  by  those  matchless  scoun- 
drels, Titus  Gates,  an  expelled  naval  chapjain,  and 
Bedloe,  a  swindler  and  thief,  Temple  Bar  was 
made  the  spot  for  a  great  mob  pilgrimage,  on  the 
anniversary  of  the  accession  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 
The  ceremonial  is  supposed  to  have  been  organised 
by  that  restless  plotter  against  a  Popish  succession, 
Lord  Shaftesbury,  and  the  gentlemen  of  the  Green 
Ribbon  Club,  whose  tavern,  the  "  King's  Head,"  Avas 
at  the  corner  of  Chancery  Lane,  opposite  the  Inner 
Temple  gate.  To  scare  and  vex  the  Papists,  the 
church  bells  began  to  clash  out  as  early  as  three 
o'clock  on  the  morning  of  that  dangerous  day.  At 
dusk  the  procession  of  several  thousand  half-crazed 
torch-bearers  started  from  Moorgate,  along  Bisliops- 
gate  Street,  and  down  Houndsditch  and  Aldgate 
(passing  Shaftesbury's  house  imagine  the  roar  of  the 
monster  mob,  the  wave  of  torches,  and  the  fiery 
fountains  of  squibs  at  that  point ! ),  then  through 
Leadenhall  Street  and  Cornhill,  by  the  Royal 
Exchange,  along  Cheapside  and  on  to  Temple  Bar, 
where  the  bonfire  awaited  the  puppets.  In  a 
torrent  of  fire  the  noisy  Protestants  passed  through 
the  exulting  City,  making  the  Papists  cower  and 
shudder  in  their  garrets  and  cellars,  and  before  the 
flaming  deluge  opened  a  storm  of  shouting  people. 


Temple  Bar.] 


"SQUEEZING  THE   ORANGE." 


27 


This  procession  consisted  of  fifteen  groups  of 
priests,  Jesuits,  and  friars,  two  following  a  man  on  a 
horse,  holding  up  before  him  a  dummy,  dressed  to 
represent  Sir  Edmondbury  Godfrey,  a  Protestant 
justice  and  wood  merchant,  supposed  to  have  been 
murdered  by  Roman  Catholics  at  Somerset  House. 
It  was  attended  by  a  body-guard  of  150  sword- 
bearers  and  a  man  roaring  a  political  cry  of  the  time 
through  a  brazen  speaking-trumpet.  The  great 
bonfire  Avas  built  up  mountain  high  opposite  the 
Inner  Temple  gate.  Some  zealous  Protestants, 
by  pre-arrangement,  had  crowned  the  prim  and 
meagre  statue  of  Elizabeth  (still  on  the  east  side 
of  the  Bar)  with  a  wreath  of  gilt  laurel,  and  placed 
under  her  hand  (that  now  points  to  Child's  Bank) 
a  golden  glistening  shield,  with  the  motto,  "  The 
Protestant  Religion  and  Magna  Charta,"  inscribed 
upon  it.  Several  lighted  torches  were  stuck  before 
her  niche.  Lastly,  amidst  a  fiery  shower  of  squibs 
from  every  door  and  window,  the  Pope  and  his 
companions  were  toppled  into  the  huge  bonfire,  with 
shouts  that  reached  almost  to  Charing  Cross. 

These  mischievous  processions  were  continued 
till  the  reign  of  George  I.  There  was  to  have  been 
a  magnificent  one  on  November  17,  17 11,  when 
the  Whigs  were  dreading  the  contemplated  peace 
with  the  French  and  the  return  of  Marlborough. 
But  the  Tories,  declaring  that  the  Kit-Cat  Club  was 
urging  the  mob  to  destroy  the  house  of  Harley,  the 
Minister,  and  to  tear  him  to  pieces,  seized  on  the  wax 
figures  in  Drury  Lane,  and  forbade  the  ceremony. 

As  early  as  two  years  after  the  Restoration,  Sir 
Balthazar  Gerbier,  a  restless  architectural  quack 
and  adventurer  of  those  days,  wrote  a  pamphlet 
proposing  a  sumptuous  gate  at  Temple  Bar,  and  the 
levelling  of  the  Fleet  Valley.  After  the  Great  Fire 
Charles  II.  himself  hurried  the  erection  of  the  Bar, 
and  promised  money  to  carry  out  the  work.  During 
the  Great  Fire,  Temple  Bar  was  one  of  the  stations 
for  constables,  100  firemen,  and  30  soldiers. 

The  Rye-House  Plot  brought  the  first  trophy  to 
the  Golgotha  of  the  Bar,  in  1684,  twelve  years  after 
its  erection.  Sir  Thomas  Armstrong  was  deep  in  the 
scheme.  If  the  discreditable  witnesses  examined 
against  Lord  William  Russell  are  to  be  believed, 
a  plot  had  been  concocted  by  a  few  desperate 
men  to  assassinate  "  the  Blackbird  and  the  Gold- 
finch " — as  the  conspirators  called  the  King  and 
the  Duke  of  York — as  they  were  in  their  coach  on 
their  way  from  Newmarket  to  London.  This  plan 
seems  to  have  been  the  suggestion  of  Rumbold, 
a  maltster,  who  lived  in  a  lonely  moated  farm- 
house, called  Rye  House,  about  eighteen  miles  from 
London,  near  the  river  Ware,  close  to  a  by-road 
that  leads  from  Bishop  Stortford  to  Hoddesdon. 


Charles  II.  had  a  violent  hatred  to  Armstrong, 
who  had  been  his  Gentleman  of  the  Horse,  and  was 
supposed  to  have  incited  his  illegitimate  son,  the 
Duke  of  Monmouth,  to  rebellion.  Sir  Thomas  was 
hanged  at  Tyburn.  After  the  body  had  hung  half  an 
hour,  the  hangman  cut  it  down,  stripped  it,  lopped 
off  the  head,  threw  the  heart  into  a  fire,  and  divided 
the  body  into  four  parts.  The  fore-quarter  (after 
being  boiled  in  pitch  at  Newgate)  was  set  on 
Temple  Bar,  the  head  was  placed  on  Westminster 
Hall,  and  the  rest  of  the  body  was  sent  to  Stafford, 
which  town  Sir  Thomas  represented  in  Parliament. 

Eleven  years  after,  the  heads  of  two  more  traitors 
— this  time  conspirators  against  William  III. — 
joined  the  relic  of  Armstrong.  Sir  John  Friend 
was  a  rich  brewer  at  Aldgate.  Parkyns  was  an  old 
^\'arwickshire  county  gentleman.  The  plotters 
had  several  plans.  One  was  to  attack  Kensington 
Palace  at  night,  scale  the  outer  wall,  and  storm  or 
fire  the  building ;  another  was  to  kill  William  on  a 
Sunday,  as  he  drove  from  Kensington  to  the  chapel 
at  St.  James's  Palace.  The  murderers  agreed  to 
assemble  near  where  Apsley  House  now  stands. 
Just  as  the  royal  coach  passed  from  Hyde  Park 
across  to  the  Green  Park,  thirty  conspirators  agreed 
to  fall  on  the  twenty-five  guards,  and  butcher  the 
king  before  he  could  leap  out  of  his  carriage. 
These  two  Jacobite  gentlemen  died  bravely,  pro- 
claiming their  entire  loyalty  to  King  James  and 
the  "  Prince  of  Wales." 

The  unfortunate  gentlemen  who  took  a  moody" 
pleasure  m  drinking  "  the  squeezing  of  the  rotten 
Orange  "  had.  long  passed  on  their  doleful  journey 
from  Newgate  to  Tyburn  before  the  ghastly  pro- 
cession of  the  brave  and  unlucky  men  of  the  rising 
in  17 15  began  its  mournful  march.* 

Sir  Bernard  Burke  mentions  a  tradition  that 
the  head  of  the  young  Earl  of  Derwentwater  was 
exposed  on  Temple  Bar  in  17 16,  and  that  his  wife 
drove  in  a  cart  under  the  arch  while  a  man  hired 
for  the  purpose  threw  down  to  her  the  beloved 
head  from  the  parapet  above.  But  the  story  is 
entirely  untrue,  and  is  only  a  version  of  the  way 
in  which  the  head  of  Sir  Thomas  More  was  re- 
moved by  his  son-in-law  and  daughter  from  London 
Bridge,  where  that  cruel  tyrant  Henry  VIII.  had 
placed   it.     Some   years   ago,    when   the   Earl   of 

*  Amongst  these  we  must  not  forget  Joseph  Sullivan,  who 
•\va.s  executed  at  Tyburn  for  high  treason,  for  enlisting  men 
in  the  service  of  the  Pretender.  In  the  collection  of  broad- 
sides belonging  to  the  Society  of  Antiquaries  there  is  one 
of  great  interest,  entitled  "Perkins  against  Perkin,  a  dialogue 
between  Sir  William  Perkins  and  Major  Sulliviane,  the  two 
loggerheads  upon  Temple  Bar,  concerning  the  present  junc- 
ture of  affaires."     Date  uncertain. 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Temple  Bar. 


"  Derwentwater's  cofnn  was  found  in  the  family  vault, 
the  head  was  lying  safe  with  the  body.  In  1716 
there  was,  however,  a  traitors  head  spiked  on  the 
Bar — that  of  Colonel  John  Oxburgh,  the  victim  of 
mistaken  fidelity  to  a  bad  cause.  He  was  a  brave 
Lancashire  gentleman,  who  had  surrendered  with 
his  forces  at  Preston.  He  displayed  signal  courage 
and  resignation  in  prison,  forgetting  himself  to 
comfort  others. 

The  next  victim  was  Mr.  Christopher  Layer,  a 
young  Norfolk  man  and  a  Jacobite  barrister, 
living  in  Southampton  Buildings,  Chancery  Lane. 
He  plunged  deeply  into  the  Atterbury  Plot  of 
1722,  and,  with  Lords  North  and  Grey,  enlisted 
men,  hired  officers,  and,  taking  advantage  of  the 
universal  misery  caused  by  the  bursting  of  the 
South  Sea  Bubble,  planned  a  general  rising  against 
George  I.  The  scheme  was,  with  four  distinct  bodies 
of  Jacobites,  to  seize  the  Tower  and  the  Bank,  to 
arrest  the  king  and  the  prince,  and  capture  or  kill 
Lord  Cadogan,  one  of  the  Ministers.  At  the  trial  it 
was  proved  that  Layer  had  been  over  to  Rome,  and 
had  seen  the  Pretender,  who,  by  proxy,  had  stood 
godfather  to  his  child.  Troops  were  to  be  sent  from 
France  j  barricades  were  to  be  thrown  up  all  over 
London.  The  Jacobites  had  calculated  that  the 
Government  had  only  14,000  men  to  meet  them — 
3,000  of  these  would  be  wanted  to  guard  London, 
3,000  for  Scotland,  and  2,000  for  the  garrisons.  The 
original  design  had  been  to  take  advantage  of  the 
king's  departure  for  Hanover,  and,  in  the  words  of 
one  of  the  conspirators,  the  Jacobites  were  fully 
convinced  that  "they  should  walk  King  George 
out  before  Lady-day."  Layer  was  hanged  at  Tyburn, 
and  his  head  fixed  upon  Temple  Bar. 

Years  after,  one  stormy  night  in  1753,  the  rebel's 
skull  blew  down,  and  was  picked  up  by  a  non- 
juring  attorney,  named  Pierce,  who  preserved  it  as 
a  relic  of  the  Jacobite  martyr.  It  is  said  that  Dr. 
Richard  Rawlinson,  an  eminent  antiquary,  obtained 
what  he  thought  was  Layer's  head,  and  desired  in 
his  will  that  it  should  be  placed  in  his  right  hand 
when  he  was  buried.  Another  version  of  the  story 
is,  that  a  spurious  skull  was  foisted  upon  Rawlinson, 
who  died  happy  in  the  possession  of  the  doubtful 
treasure.  Rawlinson  was  bantered  by  Addison  for 
his  pedantry,  in  one  of  the  Tatlers,  and  was  praised 
by  Dr.  Johnson  for  his  learning. 

The  1745  rebellion  brought  the  heads  of  fresh 
victims  to  the  Bar,  and  this  was  the  last  triumph 
of  barbarous  justice.  Colonel  Francis  Townley's 
was  the  sixth  head ;  Fletcher's  (his  fellow-officer), 
the  seventh  and  last.  The  Earls  of  Kilmarnock  and 
Cromarty,  Lord  Balmerino,  and  thirty-seven  other 
rebels  (thirty-six  of  them  having  been  captured  in 


Carlisle)  were  tried  the  same  session.  Townley 
was  a  man  of  about  fifty-four  years  of  age,  nephew 
of  Mr.  Townley  of  Townley  Hall,  in  Lancashire 
(the  "Townley  Marbles"  family),  who  had  been 
tried  and  acquitted  in  1715,  though  many  of  his 
men  were  found  guilty  and  executed.  The  nephew 
had  gone  over  to  France  in  1727,  and  obtained 
a  commission  from  the  French  king,  whom  he 
served  for  fifteen  years,  being  at  the  siege  of 
Philipsburg,  and  close  to  the  Duke  of  Berwick 
when  that  general's  head  was  shot  off.  About 
1740,  Townley  stole  over  to  England  to  see  his 
friends  and  to  plot  against  the  Hanover  family;  and 
as  soon  as  the  rebels  came  into  England,  he  met 
them  between  Lancaster  and  Preston,  and  came 
with  them  to  Manchester.  At  the  trial  Roger 
M'Donald,  an  officer's  servant,  deposed  to  seeing 
Townley  on  the  retreat  from  Derby,  and  between 
Lancaster  and  Preston  riding  at  the  head  of  the 
Manchester  regiment  on  a  bay  horse.  He  had  a 
white  cockade  in  his  hat  and  wore  a  plaid  sash. 

George  Fletcher,  who  was  tried  at  the  same 
time  as  Townley,  was  a  rash  young  chapman,  who 
managed  his  widowed  mother's  provision  shop 
"at  Salford,  just  over  the  bridge  in  Manchester." 
His  mother  had  begged  him  on  her  knees  to  keep 
out  of  the  rebellion,  even  offering  him  a  thousand 
pounds  for  his  own  pocket,  if  he  would  stay  at 
home.  He  bought  a  captain's  commission  of 
Murray,  the  Pretender's  secretary,  for  fifty  pounds ; 
Avore  the  smart  white  cockade  and  a  Highland 
plaid  sash  lined  with  white  silk;  and  headed  the 
very  first  captain's  guard  mounted  for  the  Pre- 
tender at  Carlisle.  A  Manchester  man  deposed 
to  seeing  at  the  Exchange  a  sergeant,  with  a  drum, 
beating  up  for  volunteers  for  the  Manchester 
regiment. 

Fletcher,  Townley,  and  seven  other  unfortunate 
Jacobites  were  hanged  on  Kennington  Common. 
Before  the  carts  drove  away,  the  men  flung  their 
prayer-books,  written  speeches,  and  gold-laced  hats 
gaily  to  the  crowd.  Mr.  James  (Jemmy)  Dawson, 
the  hero  of  Shenstone's  touching  ballad,  was  one 
of  the  nine.  As  soon  as  they  were  dead  tlie  hangman 
cut  down  the  bodies,  disembowelled,  beheaded,  and 
quartered  them,  throwing  the  hearts  into  the  fire. 
A  monster — a  fighting-man  of  the  day,  named 
Buckhorse — is  said  to  liave  actually  eaten  a  piece 
of  Townley's  flesh,  to  show  his  loyalty.  Before  the 
ghastly  scene  was  over,  the  heart  of  one  unhappy 
spectator  had  already  broken.  The  lady  to  whom 
James  Dawson  was  engaged  to  be  married  followed 
the  rebels  to  the  common,  and  even  came  near 
enough  to  see,  with  pallid  face,  the  fire  kindling, 
the   axe,  the   coffins,  and  all  the   other  areadful 


Temple  Bar.] 


THE   CITY   "GOLGOTHA." 


29 


preparations.  She  bore  up  bravely,  until  she  heard 
her  lover  was  no  more.  Then  she  drew  her  head 
back  into  the  coach,  and  crying  out,  "  My  dear,  I 
follow  thee — I  follow  thee  !  Lord  God,  receive  our 
souls,  I  pray  Thee !"  fell  on  the  neck  of  a  companion 
and  expired.  Mr.  Dawson  had  behaved  gallantly  in 
prison,  saying,  "  He  did  not  care  if  they  put  a  ton 
weight  of  iron  upon  him,  it  would  not  daunt  him." 
A  curious  old  print  of  1746,  full  of  vulgar  triumph, 
reproduces  a  "  Temple  Bar,  the  City  Golgotha,"  re- 
presenting the  Bar  with  three  heads  on  the  top  of  it, 
spiked  on  long  iron  rods.  The  devil  looks  down 
in  ribald  triumph  from  above,  and  waves  a  rebel 
banner,  on  which,  besides  three  coffins  and  a  crown, 
is  the  motto,  "  A  crown  or  a  grave."  Underneath 
are  written  these  patriotic  but  doggrel  lines  : — 

"Observe  the  banner  which  would  all  enslave, 
Which  misled  traytors  did  so  proudly  wave  : 
The  devil  seems  the  project  to  surprise  ; 
A  fiend  confused  from  off  the  trophy  flies. 

While  trembling  rebels  at  the  fabric  gaze, 
And  dread  their  fate  with  horror  and  amaze, 
Let  Britain's  sons  the  emblematic  view, 
And  plainly  see  what  is  rebellion's  due." 

The  heads  of  Fletcher  and  Townley  Avere  put 
on  the  Bar  August  12,  .1746.  On  August  15th 
Horace  Walpole,  writing  to  a  friend,  says  he  had 
just  been  roaming  in  the  City,  and  ''passed  under 
the  new  heads  on  Temple  Bar,  where  people  make 
a  trade  of  letting  spy-glasses  at  a  halfpenny  a  look." 
According  to  Mr.  J.  T.  Smith,  an  old  man  living  in 
1825  remembered  the  last  heads  on  Temple  Bar 
being  visible  through  a  telescope  across  the  space 
between  the  Bar  and  Leicester  Fields. 

Between  two  and  three  a.m.,  on  the  morning  of 
January  20,  1766,  a  mysterious  man  was  arrested 
by  the  watch  as  he  was  discharging,  by  the  dim 
light,  musket  bullets  at  the  two  heads  then  re- 
maining upon  Temple  Bar.  On  being  ques- 
tioned by  the  puzzled  magistrate,  he  affected  a 
disorder  in  his  senses,  and  craftily  declared  that  the 
patriotic  reason  for  his  eccentric  conduct  was  his 
strong  attachment  to  the  present  Government,  and 
that  he  thought  it  not  sufficient  that  a  traitor 
should  merely  suffer  death ;  that  this  provoked 
liis  indignation,  and  it  had  been  his  constant 
practice  for  three  nights  past  to  amuse  himself  in 
the  same  manner.  "  And  it  is  much  to  be  feared," 
says  the  past  record  of  the  event,  "that  the  man  is 
a  near  relation  to  one  of  the  unhappy  sufferers." 
Upon  searching  this  very  suspicious  marksman, 
about  fifty  musket  bullets  were  found  on  him, 
wrapped  up  in  a  paper  on  which  was  written  the 
motto,  "  Eripuit  ille  vitam." 


After  this,  history  leaves  the  heads  of  the  unhappy 
Jacobites — those  lips  that  love  had  kissed,  those 
cheeks  children  had  patted — to  moulder  on  in  the 
sun  and  in  the  rain,  till  the  last  day  of  March,  1772, 
when  one  of  them  (Townley  or  Fletcher)  fell.  The 
last  stormy  gust  of  March  threw  it  down,  and  a 
short  time  after  a  strong  wind  blew  down  the  other ; 
and  against  the  sky  no  more  relics  remained  of 
a  barbarous  and  unchristian  revenge.  In  April, 
1773,  Boswell,  whom  we  all  despise  and  all  like, 
dined  at  courtly  Mr.  Beau  clerk's  with  Dr.  Johnson, 
Lord  Charlemont  (Hogarth's  friend).  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds,  and  other  members  of  the  literary 
club,  in  Gerrard  Street,  Soho,  it  being  the  awful 
evening  when  Boswell  was  to  be  balloted  for. 
The  conversation  turned  on  the  new  and  com- 
mendable practice  of  erecting  monuments  to  great 
men  in  St.  Paul's.  The  Doctor  observed  :  "  I  re- 
member once  being  v/ith  Goldsmith"  in  Westminster 
Abbey.  Whilst  we  stood  at  Poet's  Corner,  I  said 
to  him, — 

"Forsitan  et  nostrum  nomen  miscebitur  istis." — Ovid. 

When  we  got  to  Temple  Bar  he  stopped  me,  and 
pointing  to  the  heads  upon  it,  slily  whispered, — 

"  Forsitan  et  nostrum  nomcn  miscebitur  istis." 

This  anecdote,  so  full  of  clever,  arch  wit,  is  sufficient 
to  endear  the  old  gateway  to  all  lovers  of  Johnson 
and  of  Goldsmith. 

According  to  Mr.  Timbs,  in  his  "  London  and 
Westminster,"  Mrs.  Black,  the  wife  of  the  editor  of 
the  Morning  C/u-onidc,  when  asked  if  she  remem- 
bered any  heads  on  Temple  Bar,  used  to  reply,  in 
her  brusque,  hearty  way,  "  Boys,  1 7'ecoUed  ihe  scene 
well !  I  have  seen  on  that  Temple  Bar,  about 
which  you  ask,  two  human  heads — real  heads — 
traitors'  heads — spiked  on  iron  poles.  There  were 
two;  I  saw  one  fall  (March  31,  1772).  Women 
shrieked  as  it  fell ;  men,  as  I  have  heard,  shrieked. 
One  woman  near  me  fainted.  Yes,  boys,  I  recollect 
seeing  human  heads  upon  Temple  Bar." 

The  cruel-looking  spikes  were  removed  early  in 
the  present  century.  The  panelled  oak  gates  have 
often  been  renewed,  though  certainly  shutting  them 
too  often  never  wore  them  out. 

As  early  as  1790  Alderman  Pickett  (who  built 
the  St.  Clement's  arch),  with  other  subversive  re- 
formers, tried  to  pull  down  Temple  Bar.  It  was 
pronounced  unworthy  of  form,  of  no  antiquity,  an 
ambuscade  for  pickpockets,  and  a  record  of  only 
the  dark  and  crimson  pages  of  history. 

A  writer  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  in  18 13 
chronicling  the  clearance  away  of  some  hovels 
encroaching  upon  the  building,  says  :  "  It  will  not 


3° 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


TcTiiple  Bar. 


be  surprising  if  certain  amateurs,  busy  in  improving 
the  architectural  concerns  of  the  City,  should  at 
length  request  of  their  brethren  to  allow  the  Bar  or 
grand  gate  of  entrance  into  the  City  of  London  to 
stand,  after  they  have  so  repeatedly  sought  to 
obtain  its  destruction."  In  1852  a  proposal  for  its 
repair  and  restoration  was  defeated  in  the  Common 
Council;  and  twelve  months  later,  a  number  of 
bankers,  merchants,  and  traders  set  their  hands  to 
a  petition  for  its  removal  altogether,  as  serving  no 
practical  purpose,  as  it  impeded  ventilation  and 


of  this  sum  ^480  for  his  four  stone  monarchs. 
The  mason  was  John  Marshall,  who  carved  the 
pedestal  of  the  statue  of  Charles  I.  at  Charing 
Cross  and  worked  on  the  Monument  in  Fish  Street 
Hill,  In  1636  Inigo  Jones  had  designed  a  new 
arch,  the  plan  of  which  still  exists.  Wren,  it  is 
said,  took  his  design  of  the  Bar  from  an  old  temple 
at  Rome. 

The  old  Bar  is  now  a  mere  piece  of  useless  and 
disused  armour.  Once  a  protection,  then  an  orna- 
ment, it  has  now  become  an  obstruction — the  too 


THE   ROOM    OVER   TEMPLE   BAR    {sec  page  37). 


retarded  improvements.  Since  then  Mr.  Heywood 
has  proposed  to  make  a  circus  at  Temple  Bar, 
leaving  the  archway  in  the  centre;  and  Mr.  W. 
Burges,  the  architect,  suggested  a  new  arch  in 
keeping  with  the  new  Law  Courts  opposite. 

It  is  a  singular  fact  that  the  "  Parentalia,"  a 
chronicle  of  Wren's  works  written  by  Wren's  clever 
son,  contains  hardly  anything  about  Temple  Bar. 
According  to  Mr  Noble,  the  Wren  manuscripts  in 
the  British  Museum,  Wren's  ledger  in  the  Bodleian, 
and  the  Record  Office  documents,  are  equally 
silent;  but  from  a  folio  at  the  Guildhall,  entitled 
"  Expenses  of  Public  Buildings  after  the  Great 
Fire,"  it  would  appear  that  the  Bar  cost  altogether 
;^i,397  los. ;  Bushnell,  the  sculptor,  receiving  out 


narrow  neck  of  a  large  decanter — a  bone  in  the 
throat  of  Fleet  Street.  Yet  still  we  have  a  lingering 
fondness  for  the  old  barrier  that  we  have  seen 
draped  in  black  for  a  dead  hero  and  glittering  with 
gold  in  honour  of  a  young  bride.  We  have  shared 
the  sunshine  that  brightened  it  and  the  gloom  that 
has  darkened  it,  and  we  feel  for  it  a  species  of 
friendship,  in  which  it  mutely  shares.  To  us  there 
seems  to  be  a  dignity  in  its  dirt  and  pathos  in  the 
mud  that  bespatters  its  patient  old  face,  as,  like  a 
sturdy  fortress,  it  holds  out  against  all  its  enemies, 
and  Charles  I.  and  II.,  and  Elizabeth  and  James  I. 
keep  a  bright  look-out  day  and  night  for  all  attacks. 
Nevertheless,  it  must  go  in  time,  we  fear.  Poor  old 
Temple  Bar,  we  shall  miss  you  when  you  are  gone ! 


Temple  Bar.] 


THE   PILLORY. 


31 


OLD   AND    NEW   LONDON. 


;  Fleet  Street. 


CHAPTER     III. 
FLEET   STREET— GENERAL    INTRODUCTION. 

Frays  in  Fleet  Street— Chaucer  and  the  Friar — The  Duchess  of  Gloucester  doing  Penance  for  Witchcraft — Riots  between  Law  Students  and  Citizens— 
'Prentice  Riots—Oates  in  the  Pillory— Entertainments  in  Fleet  Street— Shop  Signs— Burning  the  Boot — Trial  of  Hardy— Queen  Caroline's  Funeral. 


Alas,  for  the  changes  of  time !  The  Fleet,  that 
little,  quick-flo\ving  stream,  once  so  bright  and 
clear,  is  now  a  sewer !  but  its  name  remains  im- 
mortalised by  the  street  called  after  it. 

Although,  according  to  a  modern  antiquary,  a 
Roman  amphitheatre  once  stood  on  the  site  of  the 
Fleet  Piison,  and  Roman  citizens  were  certainly 
interred  outside  Ludgate,  we  know  but  litde  whether 
Roman  buildings  ever  stood  on  the  west  side  of 
the  City  gates.  Stow,  however,  describes  a  stone 
pavement  supported  on  piles  being  found,  in  1595, 
near  the  Fleet  Street  end  of  Chancery  Lane ;  so 
that  we  may  presume  the  soil  of  the  neighbour- 
hood was  originally  marshy.  The  first  British 
settlers  there  must  probably  have  been  restless 
spirits,  impatient  of  the  high  rents  and  insufficient 
room  inside  the  City  walls  and  willing,  for  economy, 
to  risk  the  forays  of  any  Saxon  pirates  who  chose 
to  steal  up  the  river  on  a  dusky  night  and  sack 
the  outlying  cabins  of  London. 

There  were  certainly  rough  doings  in  Fleet 
Street  in  the  Middle  Ages,  for  the  City  chronicles 
tell  us  of  much  blood  spilt  there  and  of  many 
deeds  of  violence.  In  1228  (Henry  III.)  we  find, 
for  instance,  one  Henry  de  Buke  slaying  a  man 
named  Le  Ireis,  le  Tylor,  of  Fleet  Bridge,  then 
fleeing  to  the  church  of  St.  Mary,  Southwark,  and 
there  claiming  sanctuary.  In  13 11  (Edward  II.) 
five  of  the  king's  not  very  respectable  or  law-fearing 
household  were  arrested  in  Fleet  Street  for  a 
burglary;  and  though  the  weak  king  demanded 
them  (they  were  perhaps  servants  of  his  Gascon 
favourite.  Piers  Gaveston,  whom  the  barons  after- 
wards killed),  the  City  refused  to  give  them  up, 
and  they  probably  had  short  shrive.  In  the  same 
reign,  when  the  Strand  was  full  of  bushes  and 
thickets,  Fleet  Street  could  hardly  have  been  much 
better.  Still,  the  shops  in  Fleet  Street  were,  no 
doubt,  even  in  Edward  II.'s  reign,  of  importance, 
for  we  find,  in  1321,  a  Fleet  Street  bootmaker 
supplying  the  luxurious  king  with  "six  pairs  of 
boots,  with  tassels  of  silk  and  drops  of  silver-gilt, 
the  price  of  each  pair  being  5s."  In  Richard  II.'s 
reign  it  is  especially  mentioned  that  Wat  Tyler's 
fierce  Kentish  men  sacked  the  Savoy  church, 
part  of  the  Temple,  and  destroyed  two  forges 
which  had  been  originally  erected  on  each  side  of 
St.  Dunstan's  church  by  the  Knight  Templars.  The 
Priory  of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem  had  paid  a  rent  of 


15s.  for  these  forges,  which  same  rent  was  given  for 
more  than  a  century  after  their  destruction. 

The  poet  Chaucer  is  said  to  have  beaten 
a  saucy  Franciscan  friar  in  Fleet  Street,  and  to 
have  been  fined  2s.  for  the  offence  by  the  Honour- 
able Society  of  the  Inner  Temple ;  so  Speight  had 
heard  from  one  who  had  seen  the  entry  in  the 
records  of  the  Inner  Temple. 

In  King  Henry  IV.'s  reign  another  crime  dis- 
turbed Fleet  Street.  A  Fleet  Street  goldsmith  was 
murdered  by  ruffians  in  the  Strand,  and  his  body 
thrown  under  the  Temple  Stairs. 

In  1440  (Henry  VI.)  a  strange  procession  startled 
London  citizens.  Eleanor  Cobham,  Duchess  of 
Gloucester,  did  penance  through  Fleet  Street  for 
witchcraft  practised  against  the  king.  She  and 
certain  priests  and  necromancers  had,  it  was  said, 
melted  a  wax  figure  of  young  King  Plenry  before  a 
slow  fire,  praying  that  as  that  figure  melted  his  life 
might  melt  also.  Of  the  duchess's  confederates,  the 
Witch  of  Ely,  was  burned  at  Smithfield,  a  canon  of 
Westminster  died  in  the  Tower,  and  a  third  culprit 
was  hung,  drawn,  and  quartered  at  Tyburn.  The 
duchess  was  brought  from  Westminster,  and  landed 
at  the  Temple  Stairs,  from  whence,  with  a  tall  wax 
taper  in  her  hand,  she  walked  bareheaded  to  St. 
Paul's,  where  she  offered  at  the  high  altar.  Another 
day  she  did  penance  at  Christ  Church,  Aldgate ;  a 
third  day  at  St.  Michael's,  Cornhill,  the  Lord  Mayor, 
sheriffs,  and  most  of  the  Corporation  following. 
She  was  then  banished  to  the  Isle  of  Man,  and 
her  ghost  they  say  still  haunts  Peel  Castle. 

And  now,  in  the  long  panorama  of  years,  there 
rises  in  Fleet  Street  a  clash  of  swords  and  a  clatter 
of  bucklers.  In  1441  (Henry  VI.)  the  general 
effervescence  of  the  times  spread  beyond  Ludgate,. 
and  there  was  a  great  affray  in  Fleet  Street  between 
the  hot-blooded  youths  of  the  Inns  of  Court  and 
the  citizens,  which  lasted  two  days ;  the  chief 
man  in  the  riot  was  one  of  Clifford's  Inn,  named 
Harbottle;  and  this  irrepressible  Harbottle  and 
his  fellows  only  the  appearance  of  the  mayor  and 
sheriffs  could  quiet.  In  1458  (in  the  same  reign) 
there  was  a  more  serious  riot  of  the  same  kind; 
the  students  were  then  driven  back  by  archers  from 
the  Conduit  near  Shoe  Lane  to  their  several  inns, 
and  some  slain,  including  "the  Queen's  attornie," 
who  certainly  ought  to  have  known  better  and  kept 
closer  to  his  parchments.     Even  the  king's  meek 


a  Street.] 


THE   'PRENTICE   RIOTS. 


33 


nature  was  roused  at  this,  he  committed  the 
principal  governors  of  Furnival's,  CHfford's,  and 
Barnard's  inns,  to  the  castle  of  Hertford,  and  sent 
for  several  aldermen  to  Windsor  Castle,  where  he 
either  rated  or  imprisoned  them,  or  botlr. 

Fleet  Street  often  figures  in  the  chronicles  of 
Elizabeth's  reign.  On  one  visit  it  is  particularly 
^aid  that  she  often  graciously  stopped  her  coach 
to  speak  to  the  poor ;  and  a  green  branch  of  rose- 
mary given  to  her  by  a  poor  woman  near  Fleet 
Bridge  was  seen,  not  without  marvellous  wonder  of 
such  as  knew  the  presenter,  when  her  Majesty 
reached  Westminster.  In  the  same  reign  we  are 
told  that  the  young  Earl  of  Oxford,  after  attending 
his  father's  funeral  in  Essex,  rode  through  Fleet 
Street  to  Westminster,  attended  by  seven  score 
horsemen,  all  in  black.  Such  was  the  splendid 
and  proud  profusion  of  Elizabeth's  nobles. 

James's  reign  was  a  stormy  one  for  Fleet  Street. 
Many  a  time  the  ready  'prentices  snatched  their 
■clubs  (as  we  read  in  "  The  Fortunes  of  Nigel"),  and, 
vaulting  over  their  counters,  joined  in  the  fray  that 
surged  past  their  shops.  In  162 1  particularly,  three 
'prentices  having  abused  Gondomar,  the  Spanish 
ambassador,  as  he  passed  their  master's  door  in 
Fenchurch  Street,  the  king  ordered  the  riotous 
youths  to  be  whipped  from  Aldgate  to  Temple 
Bar.  In  Fleet  Street,  however,  the  apprentices 
rose  in  force,  and  shouting  "Rescue!"  quickly 
released  the  lads  and  beat  the  marshalmen.  If 
there  had  been  any  resistance,  another  thousand 
sturdy  'prentices  would  soon  have  carried  on  the 
war. 

Nor  did  Charles's  reign  bring  any  quiet  to  Fleet 
Street,  for  then  the  Templars  began  to  lug  out 
their  swords.  On  the  12th  of  January,  1627,  the 
Templars,  having  chosen  a  Mr.  Palmer  as  their 
Lord  of  Misrule,  went  out  late  at  night  into  Fleet 
Street  to  collect  his  rents.  At  every  door  the 
jovial  collectors  winded  the  Temple  horn,  and  if  at 
the  second  blast  the  door  was  not  courteously 
opened,  my  lord  cried  majestically,  "  Give  fire, 
gunner,"  and  a  sturdy  smith  burst  the  pannels  open 
with  a  huge  sledge-hammer.  The  horrified  Lord 
Mayor  being  appealed  to  soon  arrived,  attended  by 
the  watch  of  the  ward  and  men  armed  with  halberts. 
At  eleven  o'clock  on  the  Sunday  night,  the  two 
monarchs  came  into  collision  in  Hare  Alley  (nojv 
Hare  Court).  The  Lord  of  Misrule  bade  my  Lord 
Mayor  come  to  him,  but  Palmer,  omitting  to  take 
off  his  hat,  the  halberts  flew  sharply  round  him,  his 
•subjects  were  soundly  beaten,  and  he  was  dragged 
off  to  the  Compter.  There,  with  soiled  finery,  the 
new  year's  king  was  kept  two  days  in  durance,  the 
attorney-general  at  last  fetching  the  fallen  monarch 


away  in  his  own  coach.  At  a  court  masque  soon 
afterwards  the  king  made  the  two  rival  potentates 
join  hands;  but  the  King  of  Misrule  had,  neverthe- 
less, to  refund  all  the  five  shillings'  he  had  exacted, 
and  repair  all  the  Fleet  Street  doors  his  too  handy 
gunner  had  destroyed.  The  very  next  year  the 
quarrelsome  street  broke  again  into  a  rage,  and 
four  persons  lost  their  lives.  Of  the  rioters,  two 
were  executed  within  the  week.  One  of  these  was 
John  Stanford,  of  the  duke's  chamber,  and  the  other 
Captain  Nicholas  Ashurst.  The  quarrel  was  about 
politics,  and  the  courtiers  seem  to  have  been  the 
offenders. 

In  Charles  II.'s  time  the  pillory  was  sometimes 
set  up  at  the  Temple  gate ;  and  here  the  wretch 
Titus  Oates  stood,  amidst  showers  of  unsavoury 
eggs  and  the  curses  of  those  who  had  learnt  to  see 
the  horror  of  his  crimes.  W^ell  said  Judge  Withers 
to  this  man,  "  I  never  pronounce  criminal  sentence 
but  with  some  compassion ;  but  you  are  such  a 
villain  and  hardened  sinner,  that  I  can  find  no 
sentiment  of  compassion  for  you."  The  pillory 
had  no  fixed  place,  for  in  1670  we  find  a  Scotch- 
man suffering  at  the  Chancery  Lane  end  for  telling 
a  victualler  that  his  house  would  be  fired  by  the 
Papists;  and  the  next  year  a  man  stood  upon  the 
pillory  at  the  end  of  Shoe  Lane  for  insulting  Lord 
Ambassador  Coventry  as  he  was  starting  for 
Sweden. 

In  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne  those  pests  of  the 
London  streets,  the  "  IMohocks,"  seem  to  have  in- 
fested Fleet  Street.  These  drunken  desperadoes — 
the  predecessors  of  the  roysterers  who,  in  the  times 
of  the  Regency,  "  boxed  the  Charlies,"  broke 
windows,  and  stole  knockers — used  to  find  a  cruel 
pleasure  in  surrounding  a  quiet  homeward-bound 
citizen  and  pricking  him  with  their  swords. 
Addison  makes  worthy  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  as 
much  afraid  of  these  night-birds  as  Swift  himself; 
and  the  old  baronet  congratulates  himself  on 
escaping  from  the  clutches  of  "  the  emperor  and 
his  black  men,"  who  had  followed  him  half-way 
down  Fleet  Street.  He,  however,  boasts  that  he 
threw  them  out  at  the  end  of  Norfolk  Street,  where 
he  doubled  the  corner,  and  scuttled  safely  into  his 
quiet  lodgings. 

From  Elizabethan  times  downwards,  Fleet  Street 
was  a  favourite  haunt  of  showmen.  Concerning 
these  popular  exhibitions  Mr.  Noble  has,  with 
great  industry,  collected  the  following  curious 
enumeration  : — 

"  Ben  Jonson,"  says  our  trusty  authority,  "  in 
Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  speaks  of  '  a  new 
motion  of  the  city  of  Nineveh,  with  Jonas  and  the 
whale,  at  Fleet  Bridge.'     In  161 1  '  the  Fleet  Street 


34 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street. 


mandrakes '  were  to  be  seen  for  a  penny ;  and 
years  later  the  giants  of  St.  Dunstan's  clock  caused 
the  street  to  be  blocked  up,  and  people  to  lose 
their  time,  their  temper,  and  their  money.  During 
Queen  Anne's  reign,  however,  the  wonders  of 
Fleet  Street  were  at  their  height.  In  1702  a 
model  of  Amsterdam,  thirty  feet  long  by  twenty 
feet  wide,  which  had  taken  twelve  years  in  making, 
was  exhibited  in  Bell  Yard ;  a  child,  fourteen  years 
old,  without  thighs  or  legs,  and  eighteen  inches 
high,  was  to  be  seen  *  at  the  "  Eagle  and  Child,"  a 
grocer's  shop,  near  Shoe  I^ne ; '  a  great  Lincoln- 
shire ox,  nineteen  hands  high,  four  yards  long,  as 
lately  shown  at  Cambridge,  was  on  view  '  at  the 
"  White  Horse,"  where  the  great  elephant  was  seen;' 
and  '  between  the  "  Queen's  Head  "  and  "  Crooked 
Billet,"  near  Fleet  Bridge,'  were  exhibited  daily 
'  two  strange,  wonderful,  and  remarkable  monstrous 
creatures — an  old  she-dromedary,  seven  feet  high 
and  ten  feet  long,  lately  arrived  from  Tartary,  and 
her  young  one ;  being  the  greatest  rarity  and  novelty 
that  ever  was  seen  in  the  three  kingdomes  before.' 
In  17 10,  at  the  'Duke  of  Marlborough's  Head,' 
in  Fleet  Street  (by  Shoe  Lane),  was  exhibited  the 
'moving  picture'  mentioned  in  the  Tatkr ;  and 
here,  in  171 1,  'the  great  posture-master  of  Europe,' 
eclipsing  the  deceased  Clarke  and  Higgins,  greatly 
startled  sight-seeing  London.  '  He  extends  his 
body  into  all  deformed  shapes  ;  makes  his  hip  and 
shoulder-bones  meet  together ;  lays  his  head  upon 
the  ground,  and  turns  his  body  round  twice  or 
thrice,  without  stirring  his  face  from  the  spot ; 
stands  upon  one  leg,  and  extends  the  other  in  a 
perpendicular  line  half  a  yard  above  his  head ;  and 
extends  his  body  from  a  table  with  his  head  a  foot 
below  his  heels,  having  nothing  to  balance  his 
body  but  his  feet ;  with  several  other  postures  too 
tedious  to  mention.' 

"And  here,  in  17 18,  De  Hightrehight,  the  fire- 
eater,  ate  burning  coals,  swallowed  flaming  brim- 
stone, and  sucked  a  red-hot  poker,  five  times  a  day  ! 

"  What  will  my  billiard-loving  friends  say  to  the 
St.  Dunstan's  Inquest  of  the  year  1720?  'Item, 
we  present  Thomas  Bruce,  for  suffering  a  gaming- 
table (called  a  billiard-table,  where  people  com- 
monly frequent  and  game)  to  be  kept  in  his  house,' 
A  score  of  years  later,  at  the  end  of  Wine  Office 
Court,  was  exhibited  an  automaton  clock,  with 
three  figures  or  statues,  which  at  the  word  of  com- 
mand poured  out  red  or  white  wine,  represented  a 
grocer  shutting  up  his  shop  and  a  blackamoor 
who  struck  upon  a  bell  the  number  of  times  asked. 
Giants  and  dwarfs  were  special  features  in  Fleet 
Street.  At  the  '  Rummer,'  in  Three  Kings'  Court, 
was  to  be  seen  an  Essex  woman,  named  Gordon, 


not  nineteen  years  old,  though  seven  feet  high, 
who  died  in  1737.  At  the  '  Blew  Boar  and  Green 
Tree '  was  on  view  an  Italian  giantess,  above  seven 
feet,  weighing  425  lbs.,  who  had  been  seen  by  ten 
reigning  sovereigns.  In  1768  died,  in  Shire  Lane, 
Edward  Bamford,  another  giant,  seven  feet  fouc 
inches  in  height,  who  was  buried  in  St.  Dunstan's, 
though  ;^2oo  was  offered  for  his  body  for  dis- 
section. At  the  'Globe,'  in  17 17,  was  shown 
Matthew  Buckinger,  a  German  dwarf,  born  in  1674, 
without  hands,  legs,  feet,  or  thighs,  twenty-nine 
inches  high ;  yet  can  write,  thread  a  needle,  shuffle 
a  pack  of  cards,  play  skittles,  &c.  A  facsimile  of 
his  WTiting  is  among  the  Harleian  MSS.  And 
in  17 1 2  appeared  the  Black  Prince  and  his  wife, 
each  three  feet  high ;  and  a  Turkey  horse,  two  feet 
odd  higli  and  twelve  years  old,  in  a  box.  Modern 
times  have  seen  giants  and  dwarfs,  but  have  they 
really  equalled  these?  In  1822  the  exhibition  of 
a  mermaid  here  was  put  a  stop  to  by  the  Lord 
Chamberlain." 

In  old  times  Fleet  Street  was  rendered  picturesque, 
not  only  by  its  many  gable-ended  houses  adorned 
with  quaint  carvings  and  i)laster  stamped  in  pat- 
terns, but  also  by  the  coundess  signs,  gay  with 
gilding  and  painted  with  strange  devices,  which 
hung  above  the  shop-fronts.  Heraldry  exhausted 
all  its  stores  to  furnish  emblems  for  different  trades. 
Lions  blue  and  red,  falcons,  and  dragons  of  all 
colours,  alternated  with  heads  of  John  the  Baptist, 
flying  pigs,  and  hogs  in  armour.  On  a  windy  day 
these  huge  masses  of  painted  timber  creaked  and 
waved  overhead,  to  the  terror  of  nervous  pedestrians, 
nor  were  accidents  by  any  means  rare.  On  the 
2nd  of  December,  1718  (Queen  Anne),  a  signboard 
opposite  Bride  Lane,  Fleet  Street,  having  loosened 
die  brickwork  by  its  weiglit  and  movement,  sud- 
denly gave  way,  fell,  and  brought  the  house  down 
with  it,  killing  four  persons,  one  of  whom  was 
the  queen's  jeweller.  It  was  not,  however,  till  1761 
(George  II.)  that  these  dangerous  signboards  were 
ordered  to  be  placed  flat  against  the  walls  of  the 
houses. 

When  Dr.  Johnson  said,  "  Come  and  let  us 
take  a  walk  down  Fleet  Street,"  he  proposed  a  no 
very  easy  task.  The  streets  in  his  early  days, 
in  London,  had  no  side-pavements,  and  were 
roughly  paved,  with  detestable  gutters  running 
down  the  centre.  From  these  gutters  the  jumbling 
coaches  of  those  days  liberally  scattered  the  mud  on 
the  unoffending  pedestrians  who  happened  to  be 
crossing  at  the  time.  The  sedan-chairs,  too,  were 
awkward  impediments,  and  choleric  people  were 
disposed  to  fight  for  the  wall.  In  1766,  when 
Lord  Eldon  came  to  London  as  a  schoolboy,  and 


Fleet  Street.] 


BURNING   THE  JACK-BOOT. 


35 


put  up  at  that  humble  hostelry  the  "  White  Horse," 
in  Fetter  Lane,  he  describes  coming  home  from 
Drury  Lane  with  his  brother  in  a  sedan.  Turning 
out  of  Fleet  Street  into  Fetter  Lane,  some  rough 
fellows  pushed  against  the  chair  at  the  corner  and 
upset  it,  in  their  eagerness  to  pass  first.  Dr. 
Johnson's  curious  nervous  habit  of  touching  every 
street-post  he  passed  was  cured  in  1766,  by  the 
laying  down  of  side-pavements.  On  that  occasion 
i,  is  said  two  English  paviours  in  Fleet  Street  bet 
that  they  would  pave  more  in  a  day  than  four 
Scotchmen  could.  By  three  o'clock  the  English- 
men had  got  so  much  ahead  that  they  went  into  a 
public-house  for  refreshment,  and,  aftenvards  return- 
ing to  their  work,  won  the  wager. 

In  the  Wilkes'  riot  of  1763,  the  mob  burnt  a 
large  jack-boot  in  the  centre  of  Fleet  Street,  in 
ridicule  of  Lord  Bute  ;  but  a  more  serious  affray 
took  place  in  this  street  in  1769,  when  the  noisy 
Wilkites  closed  the  Bar,  to  stop  a  procession 
of  600  loyal  citizens  en  route  to  St.  James's  to 
present  an  address  denouncing  all  attempts  to 
spread  sedition  and  uproot  the  constitution.  The 
carriages  were  pelted  with  stones,  and  the  City 
marshal,  who  tried  to  open  the  gates,  was  bedaubed 
with  mud.  Mr.  Boehm  and  other  loyalists  took 
shelter  in  "  Nando's  Coffee  House.''  About  150  of 
the  frightened  citizens,  passing  up  Chancery  Lane, 
got  to  the  palace  by  a  devious  way,  a  hearse  with 
two  white  horses  and  two  black  following  them  to 
St.  James's  Palace.  Even  there  the  Riot  Act  liad  to 
be  read  and  the  Guards  sent  for.  When  Mr.  Boehm 
fled  into  "  Nando's,"  in  his  alarm,  he  sent  home  his 
carriage  containing  the  address.  The  mob  searched 
the  vehicle,  but  could   not  find  the  paper,  upon 


which  Mr.  Boehm  hastened  to  the  Court,  and 
arrived  just  in  time  with  the  important  document. 

The  treason  trials  of  1794  brought  more  noise 
and  trouble  to  Fleet  Street.  Hardy,  the  secretary 
to  the  London  Corresponding  Society,  was  a  shoe- 
maker at  No.  161 ;  and  during  the  trial  of  this 
approver  of  the  French  Revolution,  Mr.  John  Scott 
(afterwards  Lord  Eldon)  was  in  great  danger  from 
a  Fleet  Street  crowd.  "  The  mob,"  he  says, 
"  kept  thickening  round  me  till  I  came  to  Fleet 
Street,  one  of  the  worst  parts  that  I  had  to  pass 
through,  and  the  cries  began  to  be  rather  threat- 
ening. '  Down  with  him  !'  '  Now  is  the  time,  lads  ; 
do  for  him  ! '  and  various  others,  horrible  enough  ; 
but  I  stood  up,  and  spoke  as  loud  as  I  could  : 
'  You  may  do  for  me,  if  you  like ;  but,  remember, 
there  will  be  another  Attorney-General  before  eight 
o'clock  to-morrow  morning,  and  the  king  will  not 
allow  the  trials  to  be  stopped.'  Upon  this  one 
man  shouted  out,  '  Say  you  so  ?  you  are  right  to 
tell  us.  Let  us  give  him  three  cheers,  my  lads  I' 
So  they  actually  cheered  aiie,  and  I  got  safe  to 
my  own  door." 

There  was  great  consternation  in  Fleet  Street  in 
November,  1820,  when  Queen  Caroline,  attended  by 
700  persons  on  horseback,  passed  publicly  through 
it  to  return  thanks  at  St.  Paul's.  Many  alarmed 
people  barricaded  their  doors  and  windows.  Still 
greater  was  the  alarm  in  August,  1821,  when  the 
queen's  funeral  procession  went  by,  after  the  deplor- 
able fight  with  the  Horse  Guards  at  Cumberland 
Gate,  when  two  of  the  rioters  were  killed. 

With  this  rapid  sketch  of  a  few  of  the  events  in 
the  history  of  Fleet  Street,  we ,  begin  our  patient 
peregrination  from  house  to  house. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

FLEET    STREET    {continued). 

Dr.  Johnson  in  Ambuscade  at  Temple  Bar— The  First  Child— Dryden  and  Black  Will— Rupert's  Jewels— Telson's  Bank— The  Apollo  Club  at 
the  "  Devil  "-^"  Old  Sir  Simon  the  King" — "Mull  Sack"— Dr.  Johnson's  Supper  to  Mrs.  Lennox — Will  Waterproof  at  the  "Cock" — The 
Duel  at  "Dick's  Coffee  House" — Lintot's  Shop — Pope  and  Warburton — Lamb  and  the  Albin — The  Palace  of  Cardinal  Wolsey— Mrs. 
Salmon's  Waxwork — Isaak  Walton — Praed's  Bank — Murray  and  Byron — St.  Dunstan's — Fleet  Street  Printers — Hoare's  Bank  and  the 
"Golden  Bottle" — The  Real  and  Spurious  "Mitre" — Hone's  Trial— Cobbett's  Shop— "  Peele's  Coffee  House." 


There  is  a  delightful  passage  in  an  almost  un- 
known essay  by  Dr.  Johnson  that  connects  him 
indissolubly  with  the  neighbourhood  of  Temple 
Bar.  The  essay,  written  in  1756  for  the  Universal 
Visitor,  is  entitled  "A  Project  for  the  Employ- 
ment of  Authors,"  and  is  full  of  humour,  which, 
indeed,  those  who  knew  him  best  considered  the 
chief  feature  of  Johnson's  genius.  We  rather  pride 
ourselves  on  the  discovery  of  this  pleasant  bit  of 
autobiography : — "  It  is  my  practice,"  says  Johnson, 


"  when  I  am  in  want  of  amusement,  to  place  my- 
self for  an  hour  at  Temple  Bar,  or  any  other  narrow 
pass  much  frequented,  and  examine  one  by  one 
the  looks  of  the  passengers,  and  I  have  commonly 
found  that  between  the  hours  of  eleven  and  four 
every  sixth  man  is  an  author.  They  are  seldom 
to  be  seen  very  early  in  the  morning  or  late  in  the 
evening,  but  about  dinner-time  they  are  all  in 
motion,  and  have  one  uniform  eagerness  in  their 
faces,  which  gives  little  opportunity  of  discerning 


36 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street 


their  hopes  or  fears,  their  pleasures  or  their  pains. 
But  in  the  afternoon,  when  they  have  all  dined,  or 
composed  themselves  to  pass  the  day  without  a 
dinner,  their  passions  have  full  play,  and  I  can 
perceive  one  man  wondering  at  the  stupidity  of  the 
public,  by  which  his  new  book  has  been  totally 
neglected ;  another  cursing  the  French,  who  fright 
away  literary  curiosity  by  their  threat  of  an  invasion ; 


That  quiet  grave  house  (No.  i),  that  seems  to 
demurely  huddle  close  to  Temple  Bar,  as  if  for 
protection,  is  the  oldest  banking-house  in  London 
except  one.  For  two  centuries  gold  has  been 
shovelled  about  in  those  dark  rooms,  and  reams 
of  bank-notes  have  been  shuffled  over  by  prac- 
tised thumbs.  Private  banks  originated  in  the 
stormy  days  before  the  Civil  War,  when  wealthy 


another  swearing  at  his  bookseller,  who  will  ad- 
vance no  money  without  copy ;  another  perusing 
as  he  walks  his  publisher's  bill ;  another  mur- 
muring at  an  unanswerable  criticism ;  another 
determining  to  write  no  more  to  a  generation  of 
barbarians ;  and  another  wishing  to  try  once  again 
whether  he  cannot  awaken  the  drowsy  world  to  a 
sense  of  his  merit."  This  extract  seems  to  us  to 
form  an  admirable  companion  picture  to  that  in 
which  we  have  already  shown  Goldsmith  bantering 
his  brodier  Jacobite,  Johnson,  as  they  looked  up 
together  at  the  grim  heads  on  Temple  Bar. 


citizens,  afraid  of  what  might  happen,  entrusted 
their  money  to  their  goldsmiths  to  take  care  of  till 
the  troubles  had  blown  over.  In  the  reign  of 
Charles  I.,  Francis  Child,  an  industrious  apprentice 
of  the  old  school,  married  the  daughter  of  his 
master,  William  Wheeler,  a  goldsmith,  who  lived 
one  door  west  of  Temple  Bar,  and  in  due  time 
succeeded  to  his  estate  and  business.  In  the  first 
London  Directory  (1677),  among  the  fifty-eight 
goldsmiths,  thirty-eight  of  whom  lived  in  Lombard 
Street,  "  Blanchard  &  Child,'  at  the  "  Marygold;' 
Fleet   Street,    figure    conspicuously    as    "  keeping 


Fleet  Street.] 


BLACK   WILL  AND   HIS   CUDGEL. 


37 


running  cashes."  The  original  Marygold  (some- 
times mistaken  for  a  rising  sun),  with  the  motto, 
"Ainsi  mon  ame,"  gilt  upon  a  green  ground, 
elegantly  designed  in  the  French  manner,  is  still  to 
be  seen  in  the  front  office,  and  a  marigold  in  full 
bloom  still  blossoms  on  the  bank  cheques.  In  the 
year  1678  it  was  at  Mr.  Blanchard's,  the  gold- 
smith's, next  door  to  Temple  Bar,  that  Dryden  the 
poet,  bruised  and  angry,  deposited  j£^o  as  a  re- 
vtard  for  any  one  who  would  discover  the  bullies 


Bar  the  firm  still  preserve  the  dusty  books  of  the 
unfortunate  alderman,  who  fled  to  Holland.  There, 
on  the  sallow  leaves  over  which  the  poor  alderman 
once  groaned,  you  can  read  the  items  of  our  sale  of 
Dunkirk  to  the  French,  the  dishonourable  surrender 
of  which  drove  the  nation  almost  to  madness,  and 
hastened  the  downfall  of  Lord  Clarendon,  who  was 
supposed  to  have  built  a  magnificent  house  (on  the 
site  of  Albemarle  Street,  Piccadilly)  with  some  of 
the  very  money.     Charles  II.  himself  banked  here. 


TEMPLE   BAR  AND   THE    "DEVIL   TAVERN"  {see  page  ^S). 


of  Lord  Rochester  who  had  beaten  him  in  Rose 
Alley  for  some  scurrilous  verses  really  written  by 
the  Earl  of  Dorset.  The  advertisement  promises,  if 
the  discoverer  be  himself  one  of  the  actors,  he  shall 
still  have  the  £$0,  without  letting  his  name  be 
known  or  receiving  the  least  trouble  by  any  prose- 
cution. Black  Will's  cudgel  was,  after  all,  a  clumsy 
way  of  making  a  repartee.  Late  in  Charles  II.'s 
reign  Alderman  Backwell  entered  the  wealthy  firm ; 
but  he  was  ruined  by  the  iniquitous  and  arbitrary 
closing  of  the  Exchequer  in  1672,  when  the  needy 
and  unprincipled  king  pocketed  at  one  swoop  more 
than  a  million  and  a  half  of  money,  which  he  soon 
squandered  on  his  shameless  mistresses  and  un- 
worthy favourites.    In  that  quaint  room  over  Temple 


and  drew  his  thousands  with  all  the  careless  non- 
chalance of  his  nature.  Nell  Gwynne,  Pepys,  of 
the  "  Diary,"  and  Prince  Rupert  also  had  accounts- 
at  Child's,  and  some  of  these  ledgers  are  still 
hoarded  over  Temple  Bar  in  that  Venetian-looking 
room,  approached  by  strange  prison-like  passages, 
for  which  chamber  Messrs,  Child  pay  something 
less  than  ;2^5o  a-year. 

When  Prince  Rupert  died  at  his  house  in  the 
Barbican,  the  valuable  jewels  of  the  old  cavalry 
soldier,  valued  at  ;^2o,ooo,  were  disposed  of  in  a 
lottery,  managed  by  Mr.  Francis  Child,  the  gold- 
smith ;  the  king  himself,  who  took  a  half-business- 
like, half-boyish  interest  in  the  matter,  counting  the 
tickets  among  all  the  lords  and  ladies  at  Whitehall, 


38 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street. 


In  North's  "  Life  of  Lord  Keeper  Guildford,"  the 
courtier  and  lax^yer  of  the  reign  of  Charles  II., 
there  is  an  anecdote  that  pleasantly  connects  Child's 
bank  with  the  fees  of  the  great  lawyers  who  in  that 
evil  reign  ruled  in  Chancery  Lane  : — 

"The  Lord  Keeper  Guildford's  business  in- 
creased," says  his  biographer,  "  even  while  he  was 
solicitor,  to  be  so  much  as  to  have  ovenvhelmed 
one  less  dexterous ;  but  when  he  was  made  Attorney- 
General,  though  his  gains  by  his  office  were  great, 
they  were  much  greater  by  his  practice,  for  that 
flowed  in  upon  him  like  an  orage,  enough  to 
overset  one  that  had  not  an  extraordinary  readi- 
ness in  business.  His  skull-caps,  which  he  wore 
when  he  had  leisure  to  observe  his  constitution, 
as  I  touched  before,  were  now  destined  to  lie  in 
a  drawer,  to  receive  the  money  that  came  in  by 
fees.  One  had  the  gold,  another  the  cro^vns  and 
half-crowns,  and  another  the  smaller  money.  When 
these  vessels  were  full,  they  were  committed  to  his 
friend  (the  Hon.  Roger  North),  who  was  constantly 
near  him,  to  tell  out  the  cash  and  put  it  into  the 
bags  according  to  the  contents  ;  and  so  they  went 
to  his  treasurers,  Blanchard  &  Child,  goldsmiths. 
Temple  Bar." 

Year  by  year  the  second  Sir  Francis  Child  grew 
in  honour.  He  was  alderman,  sheriff.  Lord  Mayor, 
President  of  Christ's  Hospital,  and  M.P.  for  the 
City,  and  finally,  dying  in  1713,  full  of  years,  was 
buried  under  a  grand  black  marble  tomb  in  Fulham 
churchyard,  and  his  account  closed  for  ever.  The 
family  went  on  living  in  the  sunshine.  Sir  Robert, 
the  son  of  the  Sir  Francis,  was  also  alderman  of  his 
ward;  and,  on  his  death,  his  brother,  Sir  Francis, 
succeeded  to  all  his  father's  dignities,  became  an 
East  Indian  director,  and  in  1725  received  the 
special  thanks  of  the  citizens  for  promoting  a 
special  act  for  regulating  City  elections.  Another 
member  of  this  family  (Sir  Josiah  Child)  deserves 
special  mention  as  one  of  the  earliest  writers 
on  political  economy  and  a  man  much  in  ad- 
vance of  his  time.  He  saw  through  the  old 
fallacy  about  the  balance  of  trade,  and  ex- 
plained clearly  the  true  causes  of  the  commercial 
prosperity  of  the  Dutch.  He  also  condemned  the 
practice  of  each  parish  paying  for  its  own  poor,  an 
evil  which  all  Poor-law  reformers  have  endea- 
voured to  alter.  Sir  Josiah  was  at  the  head  of  the 
East  India  Company,  already  feeling  its  way  to- 
wards the  gold  and  diamonds  of  India.  His 
brother  was  Governor  of  Bombay,  and  by  the 
marriage  of  his  numerous  daughters  the  rich 
merchant  became  allied  to  half  the  peers  and  peer- 
esses of  England.  The  grandson  of  Alderaian 
Backwell  married  a  daughter   of  the   second   Sir 


Francis  Child,  and  his  daughter  married  William 
Praed,  the  Truro  banker,  who  early  in  the  present 
century  opened  a  bank  at  189,  Fleet  Street.  So, 
like  three  strands  of  a  gold  chain,  the  three  bank- 
ing families  were  welded  together.  In  1689  Child's 
bank  seems  to  have  for  a  moment  tottered,  but 
was  saved  by  the  timely  loan  of  ;^  1,400  proffered 
by  that  overbearing  woman  the  Duchess  of  Marl- 
borough. Hogarth  is  said  to  have  made  an  oil 
sketch  of  the  scene,  which  was  sold  at  Hodgson's 
sale-room  in  1834,  and  has  since  disappeared. 

In  Pennant's  time  (1793)  the  original  goldsmith's 
shop  seems  to  have  still  existed  in  Fleet  Street,  in 
connection  with  this  bank.  The  principal  of  the 
firm  was  the  celebrated  Countess  of  Jersey,  a  former 
earl  having  assumed  the  name  of  Child  on  the 
countess  inheriting  the  estates  of  her  maternal 
grandfather,  Robert  Child,  Esq.,  of  Osterly  Park, 
Middlesex.  A  small  full-length  portrait  of  this 
great  beauty  of  George  IV.'s  court,  painted  by 
Lawrence  in  his  elegant  but  meretricious  manner, 
hangs  in  the  first-floor  room  of  the  old  bank.  The 
last  Child  died  early  in  this  century.  A  descendant 
of  Addison  is  a  member  of  the  present  firm.  In 
Chapter  i..  Book  I.,  of  his  "  Tale  of  Two  Cities," 
Dickens  has  sketched  Child's  bank  with  quite  an 
Hogarthian  force  and  colour.  He  has  playfully 
exaggerated  the  smallness,  darkness,  and  ugliness 
of  tlie  building,  of  which  he  describes  the  partners 
as  so  proud ;  but  there  is  all  his  usual  delightful 
humour,  occasionally  passing  into  caricature  : — 

"Thus  it  had  come  to  pass  that  Telson's  was  the 
triumphant  perfection  of  inconvenience.  After  bursting  open 
a  door  of  idiotic  obstinacy  with  a  weak  rattle  in  its  throat, 
you  fell  into  Telson's  down  two  steps,  and  came  to  your 
senses  in  a  miserable  little  shop  with  two  little  counters, 
where  the  oldest  of  men  made  your  cheque  shake  as  if  the 
wind  rustled  it,  while  they  examined  the  signature  by  the 
dingiest  of  windows,  which  were  always  under  a  shower- 
bath  of  mud  from  Fleet  Street,  and  which  were  made  the 
dingier  by  their  own  iron  bars  and  the  heavy  shadow  of 
Temple  Bar.  If  your  business  necessitated  your  seeing  '  the 
House,'  you  were  put  into  a  species  of  Condemned  Hold  at 
the  back,  where  you  meditated  on  a  mis-spent  life,  until  the 
House  came  with  its  hands  in  its  pockets,  and  you  could 
hardly  blink  at  it  in  the  dismal  twilight." 

In  1788  (George  HI.)  the  firm  purchased  the 
renowned  "Devil Tavern," next  door  eastward, and 
upon  the  site  erected  the  retiring  row  of  houses  up 
a  dim  court,  now  called  Child's  Place,  finally  ab- 
sorbing the  old  place  of  revelry  and  hushing  the 
unseemly  clatter  of  pewter  pots  and  the  clamorous 
shouts  of  "  Score  a  pint  of  sherry  in  the  Apollo  " 
for  ever. 

The  noisy  "  Devil  Tavern  "  (No.  2,  Fleet  Street) 
had  stood  next  the  quiet  goldsmith's  shop   evei 


Fleet  Street.] 


BEN   JONSON    IN   THE   CHAIR. 


CE) 


since  the  time  of  James  I.  Shakespeare  himself 
must,  day  after  day,  have  looked  up  at  the  old 
sign  of  St.  Dunstan  tweaking  the  Devil  by  the  nose, 
that  flaunted  in  the  wind  near  the  Bar,  Perhaps 
the  sign  was  originally  a  compliment  to  the  gold- 
smith's men  who  frequented  it,  for  St.  Dunstan  was, 
like  St.  Eloy,  a  patron  saint  of  goldsmiths,  and  him- 
self worked  at  the  forge  as  an  amateur  artificer  of 
church  plate.  It  may,  however,  have  only  been  a 
mark  of  respect  to  the  saint,  whose  church  stood 
hard  by,  to  the  east  of  Chancery  Lane.  At  the 
"  Devil "  the  ApoJlloClub,  alnios^the  first  institution 
of  tlie  kind  in  London,  held  its  merry  meetings, 
presided  oyer  by  that  grim  y<^<-  ji^vinl  df;sp^*"j  Bpn 

Jonson.  The  bust  of  Apollo,  skilfully  modelled 
from  the  head  of  the  Apollo  Belvidere,  that  once 
kept  watch  over  the  door,  and  heard  in  its  time 
millions  of  witty  things  and  scores  of  fond  recollec- 
tions of  Shakespeare  by  those  who  personally  knew 
and  loved  him,  is  still  preserved  at  Child's  bank. 
They  also  show  there  among  their  heirlooms  "  The 

JVVelcome,"  probably  written  by  immortal  Ben'him- 
self,  which  is  full  X)La  jovial  inspiration  that  speaks 
well  for  the  canary  a^theJiDe.Yil."  It  used  to  stand 
over  the  chimney-piece,  written  in  gilt  letters  _Dn.a 
black  board,  and  some  of  the  wittiest  and  wisest 

^men  ot  thereigns  of  James  and  Charles  muatJiave 
read  it  over  their  cups.     The  verses  run, — 

"  Welcome  all  who  lead  or  follow 
To  the  oracle  of  Apollo,"  &c. 

Beneath  these  verses  some  enthusiastic  disciple  of 
the  author  has  added  the  brief  epitaph  inscribed 
by  an  admirer  on  the  crabbed  old  poet's  tomb- 
stone in  Westminster  Abbey, — 

' '  O,  rare  Ben  Jonson. " 

The  rules  of  the  club  (said  to  have  been  originally 
cut  on  a  slab  of  black  marble)  were  placer^  above  the 
Replace.  They  were  devised  by  Ben  Jon.s>on,  in 
imitation  of  the  rules  of  the  Roman  entertainments, 
collected__by  the  learned  Lijtajus ;  and,  as  Leigh 
Hunt  says,  they  display  the  author's  usual  style  of 
^elaborate  and  compiled  learning,  not  without  a 
taste  of  that  dictatorial  self-sufficiency  that  made 
him  so  many  enemies.  They  were  translated  by 
Alexander  Brome,  a  poetical  attorney  of  the  day, 
who  was  one  of  Ben  Jonson's  twelve  adopted  poeti- 
cal sons.  We  have  room  only  for  the  first  few,  to 
show  the  poetical  character  of  the  club  : — 

"  Let  none  but  guests  or  clubbers  hither  come  ; 
Let  dunces,  fools,  and  sordid  men  keep  home  ; 
Let  learned,  civil,  merry  men  b'  invited, 
And  modest^too  ;  nor  be  choice  liquor  slighted. 
Let  nothing  in  the  treat  offend  the  guest : 
More  for  delight  than  cost  prepare  the  feast." 


The  later  rules  forbid  the  discussion  of  serious  and 
sacred  subjects.  No  itinerant  fiddlers  (who  then, 
as  now,  frequented  taverns)  were  to  be  allowed  to 
obtrude  themselves.  The  feasts  Avere  to  be  cele- 
brated with  laughing,  leaping,  dancing,  jests,  and 
songs,  and  the  jests  were  to  be  "  without  reflection." 
No  man  (and  this  smacks  of  Ben's  arrogance)  was_ 
to  recite  "insipid"  poems,  and  no  person  was  to  be 
pressed  to  write  verse.~"  There  were  to  be  in  this 
little  Elysium  of  an  evening  no  vain  disputes,  and 
no  lovers  were  to  mope  about  unsocially  in  corners. 
No  fighting  or  brawling  was  to  be  tolerated,  and  jiq 
glasses  or  windows  broken^  or  was  tapestry  to  be 
torn  down  m  wantonness.     The  rooms  were  to  be 


kept  warm ;  and,  above  all,  any  one  who  betrayed 
what  the  club  chose  to  do  or  say  was  to  be,  nolens 
volens,  banished.  Over  the  clock  in  the  kitchen 
,some  wit  had  inscribed  in  neat  Latin  the  merry 
motto,  "  If  the  wine  of  last  night  hurts  you,  drink 
more  to-day,  and  it  will  cure  you  " — a  happy  version 
of  the  dangerous  axiom  of  "  Take  a  hair  of  the  dog 
that  bit  you." 

At  these  club  feasts  the  old  poet  with  "the 
mountain  belly  and  the  rocky  face,"  as  he  has 
painted  himself,  presided,  ready  to  enter  the  ring 
against  all  comers.  By  degrees  the  stern  man  with 
the  worn  features,  darkened  by  prison  cell  and  hard- 
ened by  battle-fields,  had  mellowed  into  a  Falstaff. 
Long  struggles  with  poverty  had  made  Ben  arrogant,. 
for  he  had  worked  as  a  bricklayer  in  early  life  and 
had  served  in  Flanders  as  a  common  soldier ;  he 
had  killed  a  rival  actor  in  a  duel,  and  had  been  in 
danger  of  having  his  nose  slit  in  the  pillory  for  a 
libel  against  King  James's  Scotch  courtiers.  Intel- 
lectually, too,  Ben  had  reason  to  claim  a  sort  of 
sovereignty  over  the  minor  poets.  His  Every 
Man  in  his  Humour  had  been  a  great  success ; 
Shakespeare  had  helped  him  forward,  and  been 
his  bosom  friend.  Parts  of  his  Sejanus,  such  as  the 
speech  of  Envy,  beginning, — 

"  Light,  I  salute  thee,  but  with  wounded  nerves, 
Wishing  thy  golden  splendour  pitchy  darkness," 

are  as  sublime  as  his  songs,  such  as 

"  Drink  to  me  only  with  thine  eyes," 

are  graceful,  serious,  and  lyrical.  The  great  com- 
pass of  his  power  and  the  command  he  had  of  the 
lyre  no  one  could  deny;  his  learning  Donne  and 
Camden  could  vouch  for.  He  had  written  the  mrist 
beautiful  of  court  masques ;  his  Bobadil  some  men 
preferred  to  Falstaff.  Alas  !  no  Pepys  or  Boswell 
has  noted  the  talk  of  those  evenings. 

A  few  glimpses  of  the  meetings  we  have,  and 
but  a  few.     One  night  at  the  "  Devil "   a  country 


40 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


1  ricct  Street. 


gentleman  was  boastful  of  his  property.  It  was 
all  he  had  to  boast  about  among  the  poets ; 
Ben,  chafed  out  of  all  decency  and  patience,  at 
last  roared,  "What  signify  to  us  your  dirt  and 
your  clods  ?  Where  you  have  an  acre  of  land  I 
have  ten  acres  of  wit !'  "  Have  you  so,  good  Mr. 
Wise-acre,"  retorted  Master  Shallow.  "  Why,  now, 
Ben,"'  cried  out  a  laughing  friend,  "  you  seem  to 
be  quite  stung."  "  I'  faith,  I  never  was  so  pricked 
by  a  hobnail  before,"  growled  Ben,  with  a  surly 
smile. 
^^Another  story  records  the  first  visit  to  the 
"  Devil"'  of  Randolph,  a  clever  poet  and  dramatist, 
who  became  a  clergyman,  and  died  young.  The 
young  poet,  Avho  had  squandered  all  his  money 
away  in  London  pleasures,  on  a  certain  night, 
before  he  returned  to  Cambridge,  resolved  to  go 
and  see  Ben  and  his  associates  at  the  "Devil," 
cost  what  it  mi^ht.  But  there  were  two  great 
obstacles — he  was  poor,  and  he  was  not  invited. 
Nevertheless,  drawn  magnetically  by  the  voices  of 
the  illustrious  men  in  the  Apollo,  Randolph  at  last 
peeped  in  at  the  door  among  the  waiters.  Ben's 
quick  eye  soon  detected  the  eager,  pale  face  and 
the  scliolar's  threadbare  habit.  "John  Bo-peep,"  he 
shouted,  "  come  in  !"  a  summons  Randolph  gladly 
obeyed.  The  club-men  instantly  began  rhyming  on 
the  meanness  of  the  intruder's  dress,  and  told  him 
if  he  could  not  at  once  make  a  verse  he  must  call 
for  a  quart  of  sack.  There  being  four  of  his  tor- 
mentors, Randolph,  ready  enough  at  such  work, 
replied  as  quick  as  lightning : — 

"  I,  John  Bo-pecp,  and  you  four  sheep, 
VVidi  each  one  his  good  fleece  ; 
If  that  you  are  willing  to  give  me  your  shilling, 
'Tis  fifteen  pcmce  apiece. " 

"  By  the  Lord ! "  roared  the  giant  president,  "  I 
believe  this  is  my  son  Randolph  !"  and  on  his 
owning  himself,  the  young  poet  was  kindly  enter- 
ined,   spent  a  glorious  evening,  was  soaked  in 

lack,  "  sealed  of  the  tribe  of  Ben,"  and  became  one 

f  the  old  poet's  twelve  adopted  sons. 
Shakerley  Marmion,  a  contemporary  dramatist  of 
the  day,  has  left  a  glowing  Rubenesque  picture 
of  the  Apollo  evenings,  evidently  coloured  from 
life.  Careless,  one  of  his  characters,  tells  his 
friends  he  is  full  of  oracles,  for  he  has  just  come 
from  Apollo.  "From  Apollo?"  says  his  wonder- 
ing friend.  Then  Careless  replies,  with  an  in- 
spired fervour  worthy  of  a  Cavalier  poet  who 
fought  bravely  for  King  Charles  : — 

"  From  the  heaven 
Of  my  delight,  where  the  boon  Delphic  god 
Drinks  sack  and  keep  his  bacchanalia, 
And  has  his  incense  and  his  altars  smoking, 


And  speaks  in  sparkling  prophecies ;  thence  I  come, 
My  brains  perfumed  with  the  ricli  Indian  vapour, 

And  heightened  with  conceits 

And  from  a  mighty  continent  of  pleasure 
Sails  thy  brave  Careless." 

Simon  AVadloe,  the  host  of  the  "  Devil,"  who 
died  in  1627,  seems  to  have  been  a  witty  butt  of  a 
man,  much  such  another  as  honest  Jack  Falstaff ;  a 
merry  boon  companion,  not  only  witty  himself,  but 
the  occasion  of  wit  in  others,  quick  at  repartee, 
fond  of  proverbial  sayings,  curious  in  his  wines.  A 
good  old  song,  set  to  a  fine  old  tune,  was  written 
about  him,  and  called  "Old  Sir  Simon  the  King." 
This  was  the  favourite  old-fashioned  ditty  in  which 
Fielding's  rough  and  jovial  Squire  Western  after- 
wards delighted. 

Old  Simon's  successor,  John  Wadloe  (probably 
his  son),  made  a  great  figure  at  the  Restoration 
procession  by  heading  a  band  of  young  men  all 
dressed  in  white.  After  the  Great  Fire  Jolin 
rebuilt  the  "  Sun  Tavern,"  behind  the  Royal 
E.Kchange,  and  was  loyal,  weakhy,  and  foolish 
enough  to  lend  King  Charles  certain  considerable 
sums,  duly  recorded  in  Exchequer  documents, 
but  not  so  duly  paid. 

In  the  troublous  times  of  the  Commonwealth 
the  "  Devil"  was  the  favourite  haimt  of  John  Cot- 
tington,  generally  known  as  "  Mull  Sack,"  from  his 
favourite  beverage  of  spiced  sherry  negus.  This 
impudent  rascal,  a  sweep  who  had  turned  high- 
wayman, with  the  most  perfect  impartiality  rifled 
the  pockets  alternately  of  Cavaliers  and  Round- 
heads. Gold  is  of  no  religion ;  and  your  true 
cut-purse  is  of  the  broadest  and  most  sceptical 
Church.  He  emptied  the  pockets  of  Lord  Pro- 
tector Cromwell  one  day,  and  another  he  stripped 
Charles  II.,  then  a  Bohemian  exile  at  Cologne,  of 
plate  valued  at  ;£  1,500.  One  of  his  most  impu- 
dent exploits  was  stealing  a  watch  from  Lady 
Fairfax,  that  brave  woman  who  had  the  courage 
to  denounce,  from  the  gallery  at  Westminster  Hall, 
the  persons  whom  she  considered  were  about  to 
become  the  murderers  of  Charles  I.  "  This  lady  " 
(and  a  portly  handsome  woman  she  was,  to  judge 
by  the  old  portraits),  says  a  pamphlet-writer  of  the 
day,  "  used  to  go  to  a  lecture  on  a  week-day  to 
Ludgate  Church,  where  one  Mr.  Jacomb  preached, 
being  much  followed  by  the  Puritans.  Mull  Sack, 
observing  this,  and  that  she  constantly  wore  her 
watch  hanging  by  a  chain  from  her  waist,  against 
the  next  time  she  came  there  dressed  himself  like 
an  officer  in  the  army;  and  having  his  comrades 
attending  him  like  troopers,  one  of  them  takes  off 
the  pin  of  a  coach-wheel  that  was  going  upwards 
through  the  gate,  by  which  means  it  falling  off,  the 


Fleet  Street] 


SCENES  AT  THE   "DEVIL/ 


passage  was  obstructed,  so  that  the  lady  could  not 
alight  at  the  church  door,  but  was  forced  to  leave 
her  coach  without.  Mull  Sack,  taking  advantage 
of  this,  readily  presented  himself  to  her  ladyship, 
and  having  the  impudence  to  take  her  from  her 
gentleman  usher  who  attended  her  alighting,  led 
her  by  the  arm  into  the  church ;  and  by  the  way, 
with  a  pair  of  keen  sharp  scissors  for  the  purpose, 
cut  the  chain  in  two,  and  got  the  watch  clear  away, 
she  not  missing  it  till  the  sermon  was  done,  when 
she  was  going  to  see  the  time  of  the  day." 

The  portrait  of  Mull  Sack  has  the  following 
verses  beneath : — 

"  I  walk  the  Strand  and  Westminster,  and  scorn 
To  march  i'  the  City,  thoiiyh  I  bear  the  horn. 
My  feather  and  my  yellow  band  accord, 
To  prove  me  courtier  ;  my  boot,  spur,  and  sword, 
My  smoking-pipe,  scarf,  garter,  rose  on  shoe, 
Show  my  brave  mind  t'  affect  what  gallants  do. 
I  sing,  dance,  drink,  and  merrily  pass  the  day, 
And,  like  a  chimney,  sweep  all  care  away." 

In  Charles  II. 's  time  the  "  Devil "  became  fre- 
quented by  lawyers  and  physicians.  The  talk  now 
was  about  drugs  and  latitats,  jalaj:)  and  the  law  of 
escheats.  Yet,  still  good  company  frequented  it, 
for  Steele  describes  Bickerstafif's  sister  Jenny's 
wedding  entertainment  there  in  October,  1709; 
and  in  17 10  (Queen  Anne)  Swift  writes  one  of 
those  charming  letters  to  Stella  to  tell  her  that  he 
had  dined  on  October  1 2th  at  the  "  Devil,"  with 
Addison  and.  Dr.  Garth,  when  the  good-natured 
doctor,  whom  every  one  loved,  stood  treat,  and 
there  must  have  been  talk  worth  hearing.  In  the 
Apollo  chamber  the  intolerable  court  odes  of  Colley 
Cibber,  the  poet  laureate,  used  to  be  solemnly  i 
rehearsed  with  ficting  music ;  and  Pope,  in  "  The  ! 
Dunciad,"  says,  scornfully  : — •  I 

"Back  to  the  'Devil'  the  loud  echoes  roll. 
And  'Coll '  each  butcher  roars  in  Hockly  Hole." 

But  Colley  had  talent  and  he  had  brass,  and  it 
took  many  such  lines  to  put  him  down.  A  good 
epigram  on  these  public  recitations  runs  thus  : — 

"When  laureates  make  odes,  do  you  ask  of  what  sort? 
Do  you  ask  if  they're  good  or  are  evil  ? 
You  may  judge  :  from  the  'Devil'  they  come  to  the  Court, 
And  go  from  the  Court  to  the  'Devil.'" 

Dr.  Kenrick  afterwards  gave  lectures  on  Shake- 
speare at  the  Apollo.  This  Kenrick,  originally  a  rule- 
maker,  and  the  malicious  assailant  of  Johnson  and 
Garrick,  was  the  Croker  of  his  day.  He  originated 
the  London  Eeview,  and  when  he  assailed  Johnson's 
"Shakespeare,"  Johnson  laughingly  replied,  "  That 
he  was  not  going  to  be  bound  by  Kenrick's  rules." 


In  1746  the  Royal  Society  held  its  annual  dinner 
in  the  old  consecrated  room,  and  in  the  year  1752 
concerts  of  vocal  and  instrumental  music  were 
given  in  the  same  place.  It  was  an  upstairs- 
chamber,  probably  detached  from  the  tavern,  and 
lay  up  a  "  close,"  or  court,  like  some  of  the  old. 
Edinburgh  taverns. 

The  last  ray  of  light  that  fell  on  the  "  Devil " 
was  on  a  memorable  spring  evening  in  1751.  Dr. 
Johnson  (aged  forty-two),  then  busy  all  day  with 
his  six  amanuenses  in  a  garret  in  Gough  Square 
compiling  his  Dictionary,  at  night  enjoyed  his 
elephantine  mirth  at  a  club  in  Ivy  Lane,  Pater- 
noster Row.  One  night  at  the  club,  Johnson  pro- 
posed to  celebrate  the  ai^pearance  of  Mrs.  Lennox's 
first  novel,  "The  Life  of  Harriet  Stuart,"  by  a 
supper  at  the  "  Devil  Tavern."  Mrs.  Lennox  was  a 
lady  for  whom  Johnson — ranking  her  afterwards 
above  Mrs.  Carter,  Mrs.  Hannah  More,  or  even  his 
favourite.  Miss  Burney — had  the  greatest  esteem. 
Sir  John  Hawkins,  that  somewhat  malign  rival  of 
Boswell,  describes  the  night  in  a  manner,  for  him, 
unusually  genial.  "Johnson,"  says  Hawkins  (and 
his  words  are  too  pleasant  to  condense),  "  proposed 
to  us  the  celebrating  the  birth  of  Mrs.  Lennox's 
first  literary  child,  as  he  called  her  book,  by  a  whole- 
night  spent  in  festivity.  Upon  his  mentioning  it  to 
me,  I  told  him  I  had  never  sat  up  a  night  in  my 
life ;  but  he  continuing  to  press  me,  and  saying 
that  I  should  find  great  delight  in  it,  I,  as  did  all 
the  rest  of  the  company,  consented."  (The  club 
consisted  of  Hawkins,  an  attorney ;  Dr.  Salter, 
father  of  a  master  of  the  Charter  House ;  Dr. 
Hawkesworth,  a  popular  author  of  the  day;  Mr, 
Ryland,  a  merchant ;  Mr.  John  Payne,  a  bookseller ;, 
Mr.  Samuel  Dyer,  a  young  man  training  for  a  Dis- 
senting minister;  Dr.  William  M'Ghie,  a  Scotch 
physician;  Dr.  Barker  and  Dr.  Bathurst,  young 
physicians.)  "  The  place  appointed  was  the  *  Devil 
Tavern ;'  and  there,  about  the  hour  of  eight,  Mrs. 
Lennox  and  her  husband  (a  tide-waiter  in  the 
Customs),  a  lady  of  her  acquaintance,  with  the  club- 
and  friends,  to  the  number  of  twenty,  assembled. 
The  supper  was  elegant ;  Johnson  had  directed 
that  a  magnificent  hot  apple-pie  should  make  a 
part  of  it,  and  this  he  would  have  stuck  with 
bay  leaves,  because,  forsooth,  Mrs.  Lennox  was  an 
authoress  and  had  written  verses  ;  and,  further,  he- 
had  prepared  for  her  a  crown  of  laurel,  with  which, 
but  not  till  he  had  invoked  the  Muses  by  some 
ceremonies  of  his  own  invention,  he  encircled  her 
brows.  The  night  passed,  as  must  be  imagined,  in 
pleasant  conversation  and  harmless  mirth,  inter- 
mingled at  different  periods  with  the  refreshment 
of  coffee  and  tea.     About  five  a.m.,  Johnson's  face 


42 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Streat 


shone  with  meridian  splendour,  though  his  drink 
had  been  only  lemonade ;  but  the  far  greater  part 
of  the  company  had  deserted  the  colours  of 
Bacchus,  and  were  with  difficulty  rallied  to  partake 
6f    a   second   refreshment   of    coffee,    which   was 


scarcely   ended   when   the    day   began   to   dawn,     his  shoulder,  was  nailed  up  flat  to  the  front  of  the 


opposite  side  of  Fleet  Street,  still  preserves  the 
memory  of  the  great  club-room  at  the  "  Devil." 

In  1764,  on  an  Act  passing  for  the  removal  of 
the  dangerous  projecting  signs,  the  weather-beaten 
picture  of  the  saint,  with  the  Devil  gibbering  over 


TEMPLE   BAR  IN   DR.   JOHNSON'S  TIME   {seepage  29). 


This  phenomenon  began  to  put  us  in  mind  of 
our  reckoning ;  but  the  waiters  were  all  so  over- 
come with  sleep  that  it  was  two  hours  before  a  bill 
could  be  had,  and  it  was  not  till  near  eight  that 
the  creaking  of  the  street-door  gave  the  signal  of 
•our  departure."  How  one  longs  to  dredge  up 
some  notes  of  such  a  night's  conversation  from  the 
■cruel  river  of  oblivion  !     The  Apollo  Court,  on  the 


old  gable-ended  house.  In 
lecturer  and  mimic,  gave  a 
"Devil"  on  modern  oratory, 
lawyers  founded  there  a 
and  after  that  there  is  no 
"Devil"  till  it  was  pulled 
the  neighbouring  bankers, 
was  a  "  Devil  Tavern "  at 


1775,  Collins,  a  public 
satirical  lecture  at  the 
In  1776  some  young 
Pandemonium  Club  ; 
further  record  of  the 
down  and  annexed  by 
In  Steele's  time  there 
Charing  Cross,  and  a 


Fleet  Street. 


MUI.L   SACK    AND    LADY    FAIRFAX. 


43 


44 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street 


rival "  Devil  Tavern  "  near  St.  Dunstan's ;  but  these 

competitors  made  no  mark. 

The  "  Cock  Tavern  "  (201),  opposite  the  Temple, 

lias  been  immortalised  by  Tennyson  as  thoroughly 

as  the  "  Devil "  was  by  Ben  Jonson.     The  playful 

verses  inspired  by  a  pint  of  generous  port  have 

made 

"  The  violet  of  a  l^end  blow 

Among  the  chops  and  steaks  " 

for  ever,  though  old  Will  Waterproof  has  long  since 
descended  for  the  last  time  the  well-known  cellar- 
stairs.  The  poem  which  has  embalmed  his  name 
was,  we  believe,  written  when  Mr.  Tennyson  had 
chambers  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  At  that  time 
the  room  was  lined  with  wainscoting,  and  the  silver 
tankards  of  special  customers  hung  in  glittering 
rows  in  the  bar.  This  tavern  was  shut  up  at  the 
time  of  the  Plague,  and  the  advertisement  an- 
nouncing such  closing  is  still  extant.  Pepys,  in 
his  "  Diary,"  mentions  bringing  pretty  Mrs.  Knipp, 
an  actress,  of  whom  his  Avife  was  very  jealous, 
here;  and  the  gay  couple  "drank,  eat  a  lobster, 
and  sang,  and  mighty  merry  till  almost  midnight" 
On  his  way  home  to  Seething  l.ane,  the  amorous 
Navy  Office  clerk  with  difficulty  avoided  two  thieves 
with  clubs,  who  met  him  at  the  entrance  into 
the  ruins  of  the  Great  Fire  near  St.  Dunstan's. 
These  dangerous  meetings  with  Mrs.  Knipp  went 
on  till  one  night  Mrs.  Pepys  came  to  his  bedside 
and  threatened  to  pinch  him  with  the  red-hot 
tongs.  The  waiters  at  the  "  Cock "  arc  fond  of 
showing  visitors  one  of  the  old  tokens  of  the  house 
in  the  time  of  Charles  IL  The  old  carved  cliimney- 
piece  is  of  the  age  of  James  I. ;  and  there  is  a 
doubtful  tradition  that  the  gilt  bird  that  struts  with 
such  self-serene  importance  over  the  portal  was  the 
work  of  that  great  carver,  Grinling  Gibbons. 

"  Dick's  Coffee  House  "  (No.  8,  soutli)  was  kept 
in  George  II.'s  time  by  a  Mrs.  Yarrow  and  her 
daughter,  who  were  much  admired  by  the  young 
Templars  who  patronised  the  place.  The  Rev. 
James  Miller,  reviving  an  old  French  comedietta 
by  Rousseau,  called  "  The  Coffee  House,"  and  in- 
troducing malicious  allusions  to  the  landlady  and 
her  fair  daugliter,  so  exasperated  the  young  barristers 
that  frequented  "  Dick's,"  that  they  went  in  a 
body  and  hissed  the  piece  from  the  boards.  The 
author  then  wrote  an  apology,  and  published  the 
play;  but  unluckily  the  artist  who  illustrated  it 
took  the  bar  at  "  Dick's  "  as  the  background  of  his 
sketch.  The  Templars  went  madder  than  ever  at 
this,  and  the  Rev.  Miller,  who  translated  Voltaire's 
"Mahomet"  for  Garrick,  never  came  up.  to  the 
surface  again.  It  was  at  "Dick's"  that  Cowper 
the  poet  showed  the  first  symptoms  of  derangement. 


When  his  mind  was  off  its  balance  he  read  a  letter 
in  a  newspaper  at  "  Dick's,"  which  he  believed  had 
been  A\'ritten  to  drive  him  to  suicide.  He  went 
away  and  tried  to  hang  himself;  the  garter  breaking, 
he  then  resolved  to  drown  himself;  but,  being 
hindered  by  some  occurrence,  repented  for  the 
moment.  He  was  soon  after  sent  to  a  madhouse 
in  Huntingdon. 

In  1 68 1  a  quarrel  arose  between  two  hot-headed 
gallants  in  "  Dick's  "  about  the  size  of  two  dishes 
they  had  both  seen  at  the  "  St.  John's  Head "  in 
Chancery  Lane.  The  matter  eventually  was 
roughly  ended  at  the  "  Three  Cranes "  in  the 
Vintry — a  tavern  mentioned  by  Ben  Jonson — by 
one  of  them,  Rowland  St.  John,  nmning  his  com- 
panion, John  Stiles,  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  through  the 
body.  The  St.  Dunstan's  Club,  founded  in  1796, 
holds  its  dinner  at  "  Dick's." 

The  "Rainbow  Tavern"  (No.  15,  south)  was 
the  second  coffee-house  started  in  London.  Four 
years  before  the  Restoration,  Mr.  Farr,  a  barber, 
began  the  trade  here,  trusting  probably  to  the 
young  Temple  barristers  for  support.  The  vintners 
grew  jealous,  and  the  neighbours,  disliking  the 
smell  of  the  roasting  coffee,  indicted  Farr  as  a 
nuisance.  But  he  persevered,  and  the  Arabian 
drink  became  popular.  A  satirist  had  soon  to 
write  regretfully, — 

"  And  now,  alas  !  the  drink  has  credit  go!, 
And  he's  no  gentleman  that  drinks  it  not." 

About  1780,  according  to  Mr.  Timbs,  the  "Rain- 
bow "  was  kept  by  Alexander  Moncrieff,  grandfather 
of  the  dramatist  who  wrote  Tom  and  Jerry. 

Bernard  Lintot,  the  bookseller,  who  published 
Pope's  "  Homer,"  lived  in  a  shop  between  the  two 
Temple  gates  (No.  16).  In  an  inimitable  letter 
to  the  Earl  of  Burlington,  Pope  has  described 
how  Lintot  (Tonson's  rival)  overtook  him  once 
in  Windsor  Forest,  as  he  was  riding  down  to 
Oxford.  When  they  were  resting  under  a  tree  in 
the  forest,  Lintot,  with  a  keen  eye  to  business, 
pulled  out  "  a  mighty  pretty  *  Horace,' "  and  said 
to  Pope,  "  What  if  you  amused  yourself  in  turning 
an  ode  till  we  mount  again?"  The  poet  smiled, 
but  said  nothing.  Presently  they  remounted,  and 
as  they  rode  on  Lintot  stopped  short,  and  broke 
out,  after  a  long  silence  :  "  Well,  sir,  how  far  have 
we  got?"  "Seven  miles,"  replied  Pope,  naively. 
He  told  Pope  that  by  giving  the  hungry  critics  a 
dinner  of  a  piece  of  beef  and  a  pudding,  he  could 
make  them  see  beauties  in  any  author  he  chose. 
After  all,  Pope  did  well  with  Lintot,  for  he  gained 
^5,320  by  his  "Homer."  Dr.  Young,  the  poet, 
once  unfortunately   sent  to  Lintot  a  letter  meant 


Fleet  Street.] 


THE   HATRED    OF   COFFEE. 


45 


for  Tonsoii,  and  the  first  words  that  Lintot 
read  were  :  "That  Bernard  Lintot  is  so  treat  a 
scoundrel."  In  the  same  shop,  which  was  then 
occupied  by  Jacob  Robinson,  the  pubhsher,  Pope 
first  met  Warburton.  An  interesting  account  of 
this  meeting  is  given  by  Sir  Jolni  Hawkins,  which 
it  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  quote  here.  "  The 
friendship  of  Pope  and  Warburton,"'  he  says, 
"had  its  commencement  in  that  bookseller's  shop 
which  is  situate  on  the  west  side  of  the  gateway 
leading  down  the  Inner  Temple  Lane.  Warbur- 
ton had  some  dealings  with  Jacob  Robinson,  the 
publisher,  to  whom  the  shop  belonged,  and  may  be 
supposed  to  have  been  drawn  there  on  business  ; 
Pope  might  have  made  a  call  of  the  like 
kind.  However  that  may  be,  there  they  met, 
and  entering  into  conversation,  which  was  not 
soon  ended,  conceived  a  mutual  liking,  and,  as  we 
may  suppose,  plighted  their  faith  to  each  other. 
The  fruit  of  this  interview,  and  the  subsequent 
communications  of  the  parties,  was  the  publi- 
cation, in  November,  1739,  of  a  pamphlet  wilh 
this  title,  '  A  Vindication  of  Mr.  Pope's  "  Essay 
on  Man,"  by  the  Author  of  "The  Divine  Legation 
of  Moses."  Printed  for  J.  Robinson.' "  At  t;-.e 
Middle  Temple  Gate,  Benjamin  Motte,  successor 
to  Ben  Tooke,  published  Swift's  "  Gulliver's 
Travels,"  for  which  he  had  grudgingly  given 
only  ^200. 

The  third  doorfrom  Chancery  Lane  (No.  197,  north 
side),  Mr.  Timbs  points  out,  was  in  Charles  II. 's 
time  a  tombstone-cutter's;  and  here,  in  1684,  Howel, 
whose  "  Letters"  give  us  many  curious  pictures  of 
his  time,  saw  a  huge  monument  to  four  of  the  Oxen- 
ham  family,  at  the  death  of  each  of  whom  a  white 
bird  appeared  fluttering  about  their  bed.  These 
miraculous  occurrences  had  taken  place  at  a  town 
near  Exeter,  and  the  witnesses  names  duly  ap- 
peared below  the  epitaph.  No.  197  was  afterwards 
Rackstrow's  museum  of  natural  curiosities  and  ana- 
tomical figures;  and  the  proprietor  put  Sir  Isaac 
Newton's  head  over  the  door  for  a  sign.  Among 
other  prodigies  was  the  skeleton  of  a  whale  more 
than  seventy  feet  long.  Donovan,  a  naturalist, 
succeeded  Rackstrow  (who  died  in  1772)  with  his 
London  museum.  Then,  by  a  harlequin  change, 
No.  197  became  the  office  of  the  Albion  newspaper. 
Charles  Lamb  was  turned  over  to  this  journal  from 
the  Morning  Post.  The  editor,  John  Fenwick,  the 
*'  Bigot"  of  Lamb's  "  Essay,"  was  a  needy,  sanguine 
man,  who  had  purchased  the  paper  of  a  person 
named  Lovell,  who  had  stood  in  the  pillory  for  a 
libel  against  the  Prince  of  Wales.  For  a  long  time 
Fenwick  contrived  to  pay  the  Stamp  Office  dues  by 
money  borrowed  from  compliant  friends.    "We,"  | 


says  Lamb,  in  his  delightful  way,  "attached  our 
small  talents  to  the  forlorn  fortunes  of  our  friend. 
Our  occupation  was  now  to  write  treason."  Lamb 
hinted  at  possible  abdications.  Blocks,  axes,  and 
Whitehall  tribunals  were  covered  vvuth  flowers  of  so 
cunning  a  periphrasis — as,  Mr.  Bayes  says,  never 
naming  the  thing  directly — that  tlie  keen  eye  of  an 
Attorney-General  was  insuflicicnt  to  detect  the 
lurking  snake  among  them. 

At  the  south-west  corner  of  Cliancery  Lane 
(No,  193)  once  stood  an  old  house  said  to  have 
been  the  residence  of  that  unfortunate  reformer. 
Sir  John  Oldcastle,  Baron  Cobham,  who  w-as  burnt 
in  St.  Giles's  Fields  in  141 7  (Henry  V.)  In 
Charles  II.'s  reign  the  celebrated  Whig  Green 
Ribbon  Club  used  to  meet  here,  and  from  the 
balcony  flourish  their  periwigs,  discharge  squibs, 
and  wave  torches,  when  a  great  Protestant  proces- 
sion passed  by,  to  burn  the  effigy  of  the  Pope  at 
the  Temple  Gate.  The  house,  five  stories  high  and 
covered  with  carvings,  was  pulled  down  for  City 
improvements  in  1799. 

Upon  the  site  of  No.  192  (east  corner  of  Chancery 
Lane)  the  father  of  Cowley,  that  fantastic  poet  of 
Charles  II.'s  time,  it  is  said  carried  on  the  trade  ot 
a  grocer.  In  1740  a  later  grocer  there  sold  the 
finest  caper  tea  for  24s.  per  lb.,  his  fine  green  for 
1 8s.  per  lb.,  hyson  at  i6s.  per  lb.,  and  bohea  at 
7  s.  per  lb. 

No  house  in  Fleet  Street  has  a  more  curious 
pedigree  than  that  gilt  and  painted  shop  opposite 
Chancery  Lane  (No.  17,  sout'i  side),  falsely  called 
"  the  palace  of  Henry  VIII.  and  Cardinal  Wolsey." 
It  was  originally  the  office  of  the  Duchy  of  Corn- 
wall, in  the  reign  of  James  I.  It  is  just  possible 
that  it  was  the  house  originally  built  by  Sir  Aniyas 
Paulet,  at  Wolsey's  command,  in  resentment  for  Sir 
Amyas  having  set  Wolsey,  Avhen  a  mere  parish 
priest,  in  the  stocks  for  a  brawl.  Wolsey,  at  the  time 
of  the  ignominious  punishment,  was  schoolmaster  to 
the  children  of  the  Marquis  of  Dorset.  Paulet 
was  confined  to  this  house  for  five  or  six  years,  to 
appease  the  proud  cardinal,  who  lived  in  Chanceiy 
Lane.  Sir  Amyas  rebuilt  his  prison,  covering  the 
front  with  badges  of  the  cardinal.  It  was  after- 
wards "  Nando's,"  a  famous  coffee-house,  where 
Thurlow  picked  up  his  first  great  brief  One  night 
Thurlow,  arguing  here  keenly  about  the  celebrated 
Douglas  case,  was  heard  by  some  lawyers  with 
delight,  and  the  next  day,  to  his  astonishment, 
was  appointed  junior  counsel.  This  cause  won 
him  a  silk  gown,  and  so  his  fortune  was  made 
by  that  one  lucky  night  at  "Nando's."  No.  17 
was  aftenvards  the  place  where  Mrs.  Salmon  (the 
Madame   Tussaud   of  early   times)    exhibited   her 


46 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street. 


waxwork  kings  and  queens.  TJiere  was  a  figure 
on  crutches  at  the  door ;  and  Old  Mother  Shipton, 
the  witch,  kicked  the  astonished  visitor  as  he  left. 
Mrs.  Salmon  died  in  1812.  The  exhibition  was 
then  sold  for  ;^5oo,  and  removed  to  A\'ater  Lane. 
When  Mrs.  Salmon  first  removed  from  St.  Martin's- 
le-Grand  to  near  St.  Dunstan's  Church,  she  an- 
nounced, with  true  professional  dignity,  that  the 
new  locality  "  was  more  convenient  for  the  quality's 
coaches  to  stand  unmolested."  Her  "  Royal  Court 
of  England"  included  150  figures.  When  the 
exhibition  removed  to  Water  Lane,  some  thieves 
one  night  got  in,  stripped  the  effigies  of  their 
finery,  and  broke  half  of  them,  throwing  them  into 
a  heap  that  almost  touched  the  ceiling. 

Tonson,  Dryden's  publisher,  commenced  business 
at  the  "Judge's  Head,"  near  the  Inner  Temple 
gate,  so  that  when  at  the  Kit-Ka,t  Club  he  was  not 
far  from  his  own  shop.  One  day  Dryden,  in  a  rage, 
drew  the  greedy  bookseller  with  terrible  force : — 

"  With  leering  looks,  bull-faced,  and  speckled  fair. 
With  two  left  legs  and  Judas-coloured  hair, 
And  frowzy  pores  that  taint  the  ambient  air." 

The  poet  promised  a  fuller  portrait  if  the  "dog" 
tormented  him  further. 

Opposite  Mrs.  Salmon's,  two  doors  west  of  old 
Chancery  Lane,  till  1799,  ^vhen  the  lawyer's  lane 
was  widened,  stood  an  old,  picturesque,  gabled 
house,  which  was  once  the  milliner's  shop  kept, 
in  1624,  by  that  good  old  soul,  Isaak  Walton.  He 
was  on  the  Vestry  Board  of  St.  Dunstan's,  and 
was  constable  and  overseer  for  the  precinct  next 
Temple  Bar;  and  on  pleasant  summer  evenings 
he  used  to  stroll  out  to  the  Tottenham  fields,  rod 
in  hand,  to  enjoy  the  gentle  sport  which  he  so 
much  loved.  He  afterwards  (1632)  lived  seven 
doors  up  Chancery  Lane,  west  side,  and  there 
married  the  sister  of  that  good  Christian,  Bishop 
Ken,  who  wrote  the  "  Evening  Hymn,"  one  of 
the  most  simply  beautiful  religious  poems  ever 
written.  It  is  pleasant  in  busy  Fleet  Street  to 
think  of  the  good  old  citizen  on  his  guileless 
way  to  the  river  Lea,  conning  his  verses  on  the 
delights  of  angling. 

Praed's  Bank  (No.  189,  north  side)  was  founded 
early  in  the  century  by  Mr.  William  Praed,  a 
banker  of  Truro.  The  house  had  been  originally 
the  shop  of  Mrs.  Salmon,  till  she  moved  to  opposite 
Chancery  Lane,  and  her  wax  kings  and  frail  queens 
were  replaced  by  piles  of  strong  boxes  and  chests 
of  gold.  The  house  was  rebuilt  in  1802,  from 
the  designs  of  Sir  John  Soane,  whose  curious 
museum  still  exists  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  Praed, 
that  delightful  poet  of  society,  was  of  the  banker's 


lamily,  and  in  him  the  poetry  of  refined  wealth 
found  a  fitting  exponent.  Fleet  Street,  indeed,  is 
rich  in  associations  connected  with  bankers  and 
booksellers;  for  at  No.  19  (south  side)  we  come  to* 
Messrs.  Gosling's.  This  bank  was  founded  in  1650 
by  Henry  Pinckney,  a  goldsmith,  at  the  sign  of 
the  "Three  Squirrels" — a  sign  still  to  be  seen  in 
the  ironwork  over  the  centre  window.  The  originaF 
sign  of  solid  silver,  about  two  feet  in  height,  made 
to  lock  and  unlock,  was  discovered  in  the  house  in 
1858.  It  had  probably  been  taken  down  on  the 
general  removal  of  out-door  signs  and  forgotten. 
In  a  secret  service-money  account  of  the  time 
of  Charles  II.,  there  is  an  entry  of  a  sum  of 
£646  8s.  6d.  for  several  parcels  of  gold  and  silver 
lace  bought  of  William  Gosling  and  partners  by 
the  fair  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  for  the  wedding 
clothes  of  the  Lady  Sussex  and  Lichfield. 

No.  32  (south  side),  still  a  bookseller's,  was 
originally  kept  for  forty  years  by  William  Sandby, 
one  of  the  partners  of  Snow's  bank  in  the  Strand. 
He  sold  the  business  and  goodwill  in  1762  for 
p^4oo,  to  a  lieutenant  of  the  Royal  Navy,  named 
John  M'Murray,  who,  dropping  tlie  Mac,  became 
the  well-known  Tory  publisher.  Murray  tried 
in  vain  to  induce  Falconer,  the  author  of  "  The 
Shipwieck,"  to  join  him  as  a  partner.  The  first 
Murray  died  in  1793.  In  18 12  John  Murray,  the 
son  of  the  founder,  removed  to  50,  Albemarle 
Street.  In  the  Athaiaiim  of  1843  a  writer  de- 
scribes how  Byron  used  to  stroll  in  here  fresh  from 
his  fencing-lessons  at  Angelo's  or  his  sparring- 
bouts  with  Jackson.  He  was  wont  to  make  cruel 
lunges  with  his  stick  at  what  he  called  "the  spruce 
books"  on  Murray's  shelves,  generally  striking 
the  doomed  volume,  and  by  no  means  improving 
the  bindings.  "I  was  sometimes,  as  you  will 
guess,"  Murray  used  to  say  with  a  laugh,  "  glad  to 
get  rid  ot  him."  Here,  in  1807,  was  published 
"Mrs.  Rundell's  Domestic  Cookery;"  in  1809,  the 
Quarterly  Review;  and,  in  181 1,  Byron's  "  Childe 
Harold." 

The  original  Columbarian  Society,  long  since 
extinct,  was  born  at  offices  in  Fleet  Street,  near 
St.  Dunstan's.  This  society  was  replaced  by  the 
Pholoperisteron,  dear  to  all  pigeon-fanciers,  which 
held  its  meetings  at  "  Freemasons'  Tavern,"  and 
eventually  amalgamated  with  its  rival,  the  National 
Columbarian,  the  fruitful  union  producing  the 
National  Peristeronic  Society,  now  a  flourishing  in- 
stitution, meeting  periodically  at  "  Evans's,"  and 
holding  a  great  fluttering  and  most  pleasant  annual 
show  at  the  Crystal  Palace.  It  is  on  these  occa- 
sions that  clouds  of  carrier-pigeons  are  let  off",  to 
decide  the  speed  with  which  the  swiftest  and  best- 


Fleet  Street.] 


THE  GIANTS   AT  ST.    DUNSTAN'S. 


47 


trained  bird  can  reach  a  certain  spot  (a  flight,  of 
course,  previously  known  to  the  bird),  generally  in 
Belgium. 

The  first  St.  Dunstan's  Church—"  in  the  West," 
as  it  is  now  called,  to  distinguish  it  from  one  near 
Tower  Street — was  built  prior  to  1237.  The  present 
building  was  erected  in  1831.  The  older  church 
stood  thirty  feet  forward,  blocking  the  carriage-way, 
and  shops  v/ith  projecting  signs  were  built  against 
the  east  and  west  walls.  Tlie  churchyard  was  a 
favourite  locality  for  booksellers.  One  of  the  most 
interesting  stories  connected  with  the  old  building 
relates  to  Felton,  the  fanatical  assassin  of  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham,  the  favourite  of  Charles  I.  The 
murderer's  mother  and  sisters  lodged  at  a  haber- 
dasher's in  Fleet  Street,  and  were  attending  ser- 
vice in  St.  Dunstan's  Church  when  the  news  arrived 
from  Portsmouth ;  they  swooned  away  when  they 
heard  the  name  of  the  assassin.  Many  of  tlae 
clergy  of  St.  Dunstan's  have  been  eminent  men. 
Tyndale,  the  translator  of  the  New  Testament,  did 
duty  here.  The  poet  Donne  was  another  of  the 
St.  Dunstan's  worthies ;  and  Sherlock  and  Romaine 
both  lectured  at  this  church.  The  rectory  house,  sold 
in  1 693,  was  No.  183.  The  clock  of  old  St.  Dunstan's 
Avas  one  of  the  great  London  sights  in  the  last  cen- 
tury. The  giants  that  struck  the  hours  had  been 
set  up  in  167 1,  and  were  made  by  Thomas  Harrys, 
of  Water  Lane,  for  ;£s5  ^^^  the  old  clock.  Lord 
Hertford  purchased  them,  in  1830,  for  ;^2io,  and 
set  them  up  at  his  villa  in  Regent's  Park.  When 
a  child  he  was  often  taken  to  see  them ;  and  he 
then  used  to  say  that  some  day  he  would  buy  "  those 
giants."  Hatton,  writing  in  1708,  says  that  these 
figures  were  more  admired  on  Sundays  by  the 
populace  than  the  most  eloquent  preacher  in  the 
pulpit  within ;  and  Cowper,  in  his  "  Table  Talk," 
cleverly  compares  dull  poets  to  the  St.  Dunstan's 
giants : — 

"  When  labour  and  when  dulness,  club  in  hand, 
Like  the  two  figures  at  St.  Dunstan  stand, 
Beating  alternately,  in  measured  time, 
The  clock-work  tintinnabulum  of  rhyme." 

The  most  interesting  relic  of  modem  St.  Dunstan's 
is  that  unobtrusive  figure  of  Queen  Elizabeth  at 
the  east  end.  This  figure  from  the  old  church 
came  from  Ludgate  when  the  City  gates  were 
destroyed  in  1786.  It  was  bought  for  ;^i6  los. 
when  the  old  church  came  to  the  ground,  and  was 
re-erected  over  the  vestry  entrance.  The  com- 
panion statues  of  King  Lud  and  his  two  sons 
were  deposited  in  the  parish  bone-house.  On 
one  occasion  when  Baxter  was  preaching  in 
the  old  church  of  St.  Dunstan's,  there  arose  a 
panic   among   the  audience   from   two   alarms   of 


the  building  falling.  Every  face  turned  pale  ;  but 
the  preacher,  full  of  faith,  sat  calmly  down  in  the 
pulpit  till  the  panic  subsided,  then,  resuming  his 
sermon,  said  reprovingly,  "We  are  in  the  service  of 
God,  to  prepare  ourselves  that  we  may  be  fearless 
at  the  great  noise  of  the  dissolving  world  when  the 
heavens  shall  pass  away  and  the  elements  melt 
with  fervent  heat." 

Mr.  Noble,  in  his  record  of  this  parish,  has 
remarked  on  the  extraordinary  longevity  attained 
by  the  incumbents  of  St.  Dunstan's.  Dr.  White 
held  the  living  for  forty-nine  years ;  Dr.  Grant,  for 
fifty-nine ;  the  Rev.  Joseph  Williamson  (Wilkes's 
chaplain)  for  forty-one  years;  while  the  Rev. 
William  Romaine  continued  lecturer  for  forty-six 
years.  The  solution  of  the  problem  probably  is 
that  a  good  and  secure  income  is  the  best  promoter 
of  longevity.  Several  members  of  the  great  bank- 
ing family  of  Hoare  are  buried  in  St.  Dunstan's ; 
but  by  far  the  most  remarkable  monument  in  the 
church  bears  the  following  inscription  : — 

"HoBSON  JUDKiNS,  EsQ.,  late  of  Clifford's  Inn,  the 
Honest  Solicitoi',  who  departed  this  life  June  30,  1812. 
This  tablet  was  erected  by  his  clients,  as  a  token  of  gratitude 
and  respect  for  his  honest,  faithful,  and  friendly  conduct  to 
them  throughout  life.  Go,  reader,  and  imitate  Hobson 
Judkins." 

Among  the  burials  at  St.  Dunstan's  noted  in 
the  registers,  the  following  are  the  most  remark- 
able: — 1559-60,  Doctor  Oglethorpe,  the  Bishop 
of  Carlisle,  who  crowned  Queen  Elizabeth;  1664, 
Dame  Eridgett  Browne,  wife  of  Sir  Richard 
Browne,  major-general  of  the  City  forces,  who 
offered  ^^1,000  reward  for  the  capture  of  Oliver 
Cromwell;  1732,  Christopher  Pinchbeck,  the  in- 
ventor of  the  metal  named  after  him  and  a 
maker  of  musical  clocks.  The  Plague  seems  to 
have  made  great  havoc  in  St.  Dunstan's,  for  in 
1665,  out  of  856  burials,  568  in  only  three  months 
are  marked  "  P.,"  for  Plague.  The  present  church, 
built  in  1830-3,  was  designed  by  John  Shaw,  who 
died  on  the  twelfth  day  after  the  completion  of  the 
outer  shell,  leaving  his  son  to  finish  his  work.  The 
church  is  of  a  flimsy  Gothic,  the  true  revival  having 
hardly  then  commenced.  The  eight  bells  are  from 
the  old  church.  The  two  heads  over  the  chief 
entrance  are  portraits  of  Tyndale  and  Dr.  Donne ; 
and  the  painted  window  is  the  gift  of  the  Hoare 
family. 

According  to  Aubrey,  Drayton,  the  great  topo- 
graphical poet,  lived  at  "  the  bay-window  house 
next  the  east  end  of  St.  Dunstan's  Church."*  Now 
it  is  a  clearly  proved  fact  that  the  Great  Fire 
stopped  just  three  doors  east  of  St.  Dunstan's, 
as  did  also,  Mr.  Timbs  says,  another  remarkable 


4« 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street. 


fire  in  1730 ;  so  it  is  not  impossible  that  the  author 
of  "  The  Polyolbion,"  that  good  epic  poem,  once 
lived  at  the  present  No.  180,  though  the  next 
house  eastward  is  certainly  older  than  its  neigh- 
bour. We  have  given  a  drawing  of  the  house. 
That  shameless  rogue,  Edmund  Curll,  lived  at 


translators  lay  three  in  a  bed  at  the  "  Pewter 
Platter  Inn  "  at  Holborn.  He  published  the  most 
disgraceful  books  and  forged  letters.  Curll,  in  his 
revengeful  spite,  accused  Pope  of  pouring  an  emetic 
into  his  half-pint  of  canary  when  he  and  Curll  and 
Lintot  met  by  appointment  at  the  "  Swan  Tavern,'" 


MRS.    salmon's   waxwork,    FLEET   STREET— "  PALACE   OF   HENRY   VIIL    AND   CARDINAL   WOLSEY  "    {see  f  age  4$). 


the  "Dial  and  Bible,"  against  St.  Dunstan's  Church. 
When  this  clever  rascal  was  put  in  the  pillory  at 
Charing  Cross,  he  persuaded  the  mob  he  was  in 
for  a  political  offence,  and  so  secured  the  pity  of 
the  crowd.  The  author  of  "John  Buncle"  de- 
scribes Curll  as  a  tall,  thin,  awkward  man,  with 
goggle  eyes,  splay  feet,   and  knock-knees.      His 


Fleet  Street.  By  St.  Dunstan's,  at  the  "  Homer's 
Head,"  also  lived  the  publisher  of  the  first  correct 
edition  of  "The  Dunciad." 

Among  the  booksellers  who  crowded  round  old 
St.  Dunstan's  were  Thomas  Marsh,  of  the  "  Prince's 
Arms,"  who  printed  Stow's  "  Chronicles ; "  and 
William  Griffith,  of  the  "  Falcon,"  in  St.  Dunstan's 


Fleet  Street.] 


PRINTERS   IN   FLEET   STREET. 


49 


Churchyard,  who,  in  the  year  1565,  issued,  without 
the  authors'  consent,  Gorbodnc,  written  by  Thomas 
Norton  and  Lord  Buckhurst,  the  first  real  EngHsh 
tragedy  and  the  first  play  written  in  English  blank 
verse.  John  Smethwicke,  a  still  more  honoured 
name,  "  under  the  diall "  of  St.  Dunstan's  Church, 


the  three  timid  publishers  who  ventured  on  a 
certain  poem,  called  "  The  Paradise  Lost,"  giving 
John  Milton,  the  blind  poet,  the  enormous  sum  of 
jQ^  down,  ;j^5  on  the  sale  of  1,300  copies  of  the 
first,  second,  and  third  impressions,  in  all  the 
munificent  recompense   of  ^20 ;  the   agreement 


ST.  dunstan's  clock  {sec  p^jz'c  47). 


published  "  Hamlet "  and  "  Romeo  and  Juliet." 
Richard  Marriot,  another  St.  Dunstan's  booksellei, 
published  Quarle's  "  Emblems,"  Dr.  Donne's 
*'  Sermons,"  that  delightful,  simple-hearted  book, 
Isaak  Walton's  "Complete  Angler,"  and  Butler's 
"Hudibras,"  that  wonderful  mass  of  puns  and 
quibbles,  pressed  close  as  potted  meat.  Matthias 
Walker,    a    St.   Dunstan's  bookseller,  was   one  of 


was  given  to  the  British  Museum  in  185  2,  by  Samuel 
Rogers,  the  banker  poet. 

Nor  in  this  list  of  Fleet  Street  printers  must  we 
forget  to  insert  Richard  Pynson,  from  Normandy, 
who  had  worke'd  at  Caxton's  press,  and  was  a 
contemporary  of  De  Worde.  According  to  Mr. 
Noble  (to  whose  work  we  are  so  deeply  indebted), 
Pynson  printed  in  Fleet  Street,  at  his  office,  the 


5=^ 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street 


"  George"  (first  in  the  Strand,  and  afterwards  beside 
St.  Dunstan's  Church),  no  less  than  215  works  The 
first  of  these,  completed  in  the  year  1483,  was  pro- 
bably the  first  book  printed  in  Fleet  Street,  after- 
wards a  gathering-place  for  the  ink-stained  craft.  » A 
copy  of  this  book,  "  Dives  and  Pauper,"  was  sold  a 
few  years  since  for  no  less  than  ^^49.  In  1497  the 
same  busy  Frenchman  published  an  edition  of 
"Terence," the  first  Latin  classic  printed  in  England. 
In  1508  he  became  printer  to  King  Henry  VII., 
and  after  this  produced  editions  of  Fabyan's  and 
Froissart's  "  Chronicles."  He  seems  to  have  had 
a  bitter  feud  with  a  rival  printer,  named  Robert 
Rudman,  who  pirated  his  trade-mark.  In  one  of 
his  books  he  thus  quaintly  falls  foul  of  the  enemy  : 
"  But   truly    Rudeman,  because  he  is  the  rudest 

out  of  a  thousand  men Truly  I  wonder 

now  at  last  that  he  hath  confessed  it  in  his  own 
typography,  unless  it  chanced  that  even  as  the 
devil  made  a  cobbler  a  mariner,  he  made  him  a 
printer.  Formerly  this  scoundrel  did  prefer  him- 
self a  bookseller,  as  well  skilled  as  if  he  had 
started  forth  from  Utopia.  He  knows  well  that 
he  is  free  who  pretendeth  to  books,  although  it  be 
nothing  more." 

To  this  brief  chronicle  of  early  Fleet  Street 
printers  let  us  add  Richard  Bancks,  who,  in  1600, 
at  his  office,  "  the  sign  of  the  White  Hart,"  printed 
that  exquisite  fairy  poem,  Shakespeare's  "  Mid- 
summer Night's  Dream."  How  one  envies  the 
"  reader"  of  that  office,  the  compositors — nay,  even 
the  sable  imp  who  pulled  the  proof,  and  snatched 
a  passage  or  two  about  Mustard  and  Pease  Blossom 
in  a  surreptitious  glance !  Another  great  Fleet 
Street  printer  was  Richard  Grafton,  the  printer,  as 
Mr.  Noble  says,  of  the  first  correct  folio  English 
translation  of  the  Bible,  by  permission  of  Henry  VIII. 
When  in  Paris,  Grafton  had  to  fly  with  his  books 
from  the  Inquisition.  After  his  patron  Cromwell's 
execution,  in  1540,  Grafton  was  sent  to  the  Fleet 
for  printing  Bibles,  but  in  the  happier  times  of 
Edward  Vl.he  became  king's  printer  at  the  Grey 
Friars  (now  Christ's  Hospital).  His  former  fellow- 
worker  in  Paris,  Edward  Whitchurch,  set  up  his 
press  at  De  Worde's  old  house,  the  "Sun,"  near 
the  Fleet  Street  conduit.  He  published  the  "  Para- 
phrase of  Erasmus,"  a  copy  of  which,  Mr.  Noble 
says,  existed,  with  its  desk-chains,  in  the  vestry  of 
St.  Benet's,  Gracechurch  Street.  Whitchurch  married 
the  widow  of  Archbishop  Cranmer. 

The  "  Hercules  Pillars"  (ngw  No.  27,  Fleet 
Street,  south)  was  a  celebrated  tavern  as  early  as 
the  reign  of  James  I.,  and  in  the  now  nameless 
alley  by  its  side  several  houses  of  entertainment 
nestled  themselves.     The  tavern  is  interesting  to  us 


chiefly  because  it  was  a  favourite  resort  of  Pepys, 
who  frequently  mentions  it  in  his  quaint  and 
graphic  way. 

No.  37  (Hoare's  Bank),  south,  is  well  known  by 
the  golden  bottle  that  still  hangs,  exciting  curiosity, 
over  the  fanlight  of  the  entrance.     Popular  legend 
has  it  that  this  gilt  case  contains  the  original  leather 
bottle  carried  by  the  founder  when  he  came  up  to 
London,  wth  the  usual  half-crown  in  his  pocket, 
to  seek  his  fortune.     Sir  Richard  Colt  Hoare,  how- 
ever, in  his  family  history,  destroys  this  romance. 
The  bottle   is   merely  a   sign  adopted  by  James 
Hoare,  the  founder  of  the  bank,  from  his  father 
having  been  a  citizen  and  cooper  of  the  city  of 
London.     James  Hoare  was  a  goldsmith  who  kept 
"  running  cash  "  at  the  ."Golden  Bottlp  "  in  Cheap- 
side  in  1677.      The   bank  was    removed  to  F"leet 
Street    between    1687    and    1692.     The   original 
bank,  described  by  Mr.  Timbs  as  "  a  low-browed 
building  with  a  narrow  entrance,"  was  pulled  down 
about  forty  years  since.     In  the  records  of  the 
debts  of  Lord  Clarendon  is  the  item,    "  To  Mr. 
Hoare,  for  plate,  ^27  los.  3d.":  and,  by  the  secret 
service  expenses  of  James  II.,  "Charles  Dunconibe 
and  James  |ioare,  Esqrs.,"  appear  to  have  executed 
for   a   time   the   office   of  master-workers   at   the 
Mint.     A  Sir  Richanl  Hoare  was  Lojd  Mayor  in 
1 7 13  J  and  another  of  the  same   family,  sheriff  in 
1 740-4 1  and  Lord  Mayor  in  1 745,  distinguished  him- 
self by  his  preparations  to  defend  London  against 
the  Pretender.     In  an  autobiographical  record  still 
extant  of  the  shrievalty  of  the  first  of  these  gentle- 
men, t\ie  writer  says  : — "  After  being  regaled  with 
sack  and  walnuts,  I  returned  to  my  own  house  in 
Fleet  Street,  in  my  private  capacity,  to  my  great 
consolation  and  comfort."     This  Richard  Hoare, 
with  Beau  Nash,  Lady  Hastings,  ^c,  founded,  in 
1 7 16,  the  Bath  General  Hospital,  to  which  charity 
the  firm  still  continue  treasurers ;  and  to  this  same 
philanthropic    gentleman,     Robert    Nelson,    who 
wrote  the  well-known  book   on  "  Fasts  and    Fes- 
tivals," gave  ;^ioo  in  trust  as  the  first  legacy  to 
the  Society  for  Promoting   Christian   Knowledge. 
Mr.  Noble  quotes  a  curious  broadside  still  extant 
in  which  the  second  Sir  Richard  Hoare,  who  died 
in  1754,  denies  a  false  and  malicious  report  that  he 
had  attempted   to    cause    a   run  on  the  Bank  of 
England,  and   to   occasion    a    disturbance   in  the 
City,  by  sending   persons   to  the  Bank   with   ten 
notes  of  ^10  each.     What  a  state  of  commercial 
wealth,  to  be  shaken  by  the  sudden  demand  of  a 
mere  ^100  ! 

Next  to  Hpare's  once  stood  the  "  Mitre  Tavern," 
where  some  of  the  most  interesting  of  the  meetings 
between    l)r.   Johnson  and   igp.swell  took  place. 


Fleet  Street.I 


DR.   JOHNSON   AT   THE   "MITRE.'^ 


51 


The  old  tavern  was  pulled  down,  in  1829,  by  the 
Messrs.  Hoare,  to  extend  their  banking-house.  The 
original  "  Mitre "  was  of  Shakespeare's  time.  In 
some  MS.  poems  by  Richard  Jackson,  a  con- 
temporary of  the  great  poet,  are  some  verses  be- 
ginning, "  From  the  rich  Lavinian  shore,"  inscribed 
as  "  Shakespeare's  rime,  which  he  made  at  ye 
*  Mitre,'  in  Fleet  Street."  The  balcony  was  set  on 
flames  during  the  Great  Fire,  and  had  to  be  pulled 
down.  Here,  in  June,  1763,  Boswell  came  by 
solemn  appointment  to  meet  Johnson,  so  long  the 
.god  of  his  idolatry.  They  had  first  met  at  the 
shop  of  Davis,  the  actor  and  bookseller,  and 
afterwards  near  an  eating-house  in  Butcher  Row. 
Boswell  describes  his  feelings  with  delightful  sin- 
cerity and  self-complacency.  "  We  had,"  he  says, 
"  a  good  supper  and  port  wine,  of  which  Johnson 
then  sometimes  drank  a  bottle.  The  orthodox  High 
Church  sound  of  the  Mitre,  the  figure  and  manner 
of  the  celebrated  Samuel  Johnson,  the  extra- 
ordinary power  of  his  conversation,  and  the  pride 
arising  from  finding  myself  admitted  as  his  com- 
panion, produced  a  variety  of  sensations  and  a 
pleasing  elevation  of  mind  beyond  what  I  had  ever 
before  experienced."  That  memorable  evening 
Johnson  ridiculed  Colley  Gibber's  birthday  odes 
and  Paul  Whitehead's  "  grand  nonsense,"  and  ran 
down  Gray,  who  had  declined  his  acquaintance. 
He  talked  ofotherpoets,andpraised  poor  Goldsmith 
as  a  worthy  man  and  excellent  author.  Boswell 
fairly  won  the  great  man  by  his  frank  avowals  and 
his  adroit  flattery.  "  Give  me  your  hand,"  at  last 
cried  the  great  man  to  the  small  man  :  "  I  have 
taken  a  liking  to  you."  They  then  finished  a 
bottle  of  port  each,  and  parted  between  one  and 
two  in  the  morning.  As  they  shook  hands,  on 
their  way  to  No.  i,  Inner  Temple  Lane,  where 
Johnson  then  lived,  Johnson  said,  "  Sir,  I  am  glad 
we  have  met.  I  hope  we  shall  pass  many  evenings, 
and  mornings  too,  together."  A  few  weeks  after 
the  Doctor  and  his  young  disciple  met  again  at  the 
"  Mitre,"  and  Goldsmith  was  present.  The  poet 
was  full  of  love  for  Dr.  Johnson,  and  speaking  of 
some  ^japegrace,  said  tenderly,  "He  is  now  be- 
conif  miserable,  and  that  insures  the  protection  of 
Jo'inson."  At  another  "Mitre"  meeting,  on  a 
Scotch  gentleman  present  praising  Scotch  scenery, 
Johnson  uttered  his  bitter  gibe,  "  Sir,  let  me  tell 
you  that  the  noblest  prospect  which  a  Scotchman 
ever  sees  is  the  high  road  that  leads  him  to 
England."  In  the  same  month  Johnson  and  Bos- 
well met  again  at  the  "  Mitre."  The  latter  con- 
fessed his  nerves  were  much  shaken  by  the  old 
port  and  the  late  tavern  hours ;  and  Johnson 
laughed  at    people  who  had  accepted  a  pension 


from  the  house  of  Hanover  abusing  him  as  a 
Jacobite.  It  was  at  the  "Mitre "  that  Johnson 
urged  Boswell  to  publish  his  "  Travels  in  Corsica  :" 
and  at  the  "  Mitre  "  he  said  finely  of  London,  "  Sir, 
the  happiness  of  London  is  not  to  be  conceived 
but  by  those  who  have  been  in  it.  I  will  venture 
to  say  there  is  more  learning  and  science  within  the 
circumference  of  ten  miles  from  where  we  sit  than 
in  all  the  rest  of  the  kingdom."  It  was  here  the 
famous  "Tour  to  the  Hebrides"'  was  planned  and 
laid  out.  Another  time  we  find  Goldsmith  and 
Boswell  going  arm-in-arm  to  Bolt  Court,  to  prevail 
on  Johnson  to  go  and  sup  at  the  "  Mitre  ;"  but  he 
was  indisposed.  Goldsmith,  since  "  the  big  man  " 
could  not  go,  would  not  venture  at  the  "  Mitre " 
with  Boswell  alone.  At  Boswell's  last  "  Mitre " 
evening  with  Johnson,  May,  1778,  Johnson  would 
not  leave  Mrs.  Williams,  the  blind  old  lady  who 
lived  with  him,  till  he  had  promised  to  send  her 
over  some  little  dainty  from  the  tavern.  This  was 
very  kindly  and  worthy  of  the  man  who  had  the 
coat  but  not  the  heart  of  a  bear.  From  1728 
to  1753  the  Society  of  Antiquaries  met  at  the 
"  Mitre,"  and  discussed  subjects  then  wrongly  con- 
sidered frivolous.  The  Royal  Society  had  also 
conclaves  at  the  same  celebrated  tavern ;  and  here, 
^^  i733>  Thomas  Topham,  the  strongest  man  of 
his  day,  in  the  presence  of  eight  persons,  rolled  up 
with  his  iron  fingers  a  large  pewter  dish.  In  1788 
the  "Mitre"  ceased  to  be  a  tavern,  and  became, 
first  Macklin's  Poet's  Gallery,  and  then  an  auction- 
room.  The  present  spurious  "  Mitre  Tavern,"  in 
Mitre  Court,  was  originally  known  as  "Joe's  Cofiee- 
House." 

It  was  at  No.  56  (south  side)  that  Lamb's  friend, 
William  Hone,  the  publisher  of  the  delightful 
"Table  Book"  and  "Every-day  Book,"  commenced 
business  about  18 12.  In  18 15  he  was  brought 
before  the  Wardmote  Inquest  of  St.  Dunstan's  for 
placarding  his  shop  on  Sundays,  and  for  carrying 
on  a  retail  trade  as  bookseller  and  stationer,  not 
being  a  freeman.  The  Government  had  no  doubt 
suggested  the  persecution  of  so  troublesome  an 
opponent,  v/hose  defence  of  himself  is  said  to  have 
all  but  killed  Lord  Ellenborough,  the  judge  who 
tried  him  for  publishing  blasphemous  parodies.  In 
1 8 15  Hone  took  great  interest  in  the  case  of 
Eliza  Fenning,  a  poor  innocent  servant  girl,  who 
was  hung  for  a  supposed  attempt  to  poison  her 
master,  a  law  stationer  in  Chancery  Lane.  It  was 
afterwards  believed  that  a  nephew  of  Mr.  Turner 
really  put  the  poison  in  the  dough  of  some  dump- 
lings, in  revenge  at  being  kept  short  of  money. 

Mr.  Cyms  Jay,  a  shrewd  observer,  was  present  at 
Hone's  trial,  and  has  described  it  wjdi  vividness ; — 


52 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street. 


"  Hone  defended  himself  firmly  and  well,  but  he 
had  no  spark  of  eloquence  about  him.  For  years 
afterwards  I  was  often  with  him,  and  he  was  made 
a  great  deal  of  in  society.  He  became  very  re- 
ligious, and  died  a  member  of  Mr.  Clayton's  In- 
dependent chapel,  worshipping  at  the  Weigh  House. 
Tlie  last  important  incident  of  Lord  EUenborough's 
political  life  was  the  part  he  took  as  presiding 
judge  in  Hone's  trials  for  the  publication  of  certain 
blasphemous  parodies.  At  this  time  he  was  suf- 
fering from  the  most  intense  exhaustion,  and  his 
constitution  was  sinking  under  the  fatigues  of  a 
long  and  sedulous  discharge  of  his  important 
duties.  This  did  not  deter  him  from  taking  his 
seat  upon  the  bench  on  this  occasion.  When  he 
entered  the  court,  previous  to  the  trial.  Hone 
shouted  out,  '  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  Lord  Ellen- 
borough.  I  know  what  you  are  come  here  for; 
I  know  what  you  want.'  '  I  am  come  to  do 
justice,'  replied  his  lordship.  '  My  wish  is  to  see 
justice  done.'  '  Is  it  not  rather,  my  lord,'  retorted 
Hone,  '  to  send  a  poor  devil  of  a  bookseller  to  rot 
in  a  dungeon  ? '  In  the  course  of  the  proceedings 
Lord  Ellenborough  more  than  once  interfered. 
Hone,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  with  less  vehe- 
mence than  might  have  been  expected,  requested 
him  to  forbear.  The  r.ext  time  his  lordship  made 
an  observation,  in  answer  to  something  the  de- 
fendant urged  in  the  course  of  his  speech.  Hone 
exclaimed,  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  '  I  do  not  speak 
to  you,  my  lord ;  you  are  not  my  judge ;  these,' 
pointing  to  the  jury,  '  these  are  my  judges,  and  it 
is  to  them  that  I  address  myself.'  Hone  avenged 
himself  on  what  he  called  the  Chief  Justice's  par- 
tiality ;  he  wounded  him  where  he  could  not  defend 
himself.  Arguing  that  Athanasius  was  not  the 
author  of  the  creed  that  bears  his  name,  he  cited, 
by  way  of  authority,  passages  from  the  writings  of 
Gibbon  and  Warburton  to  establish  his  position. 
Fixing  his  eyes  on  Lord  Ellenborough,  he  then 
said,  '  And,  further,  your  lordship's  father,  the  late 
worthy  Bishop  of  Carlisle,  has  taken  a  similar  view 
of  the  same  creed.'  Lord  Ellenborough  could  not 
endure  this  allusion  to  his  father's  heterodoxy.  In 
a  broken  voice  he  exclaimed,  *  For  the  sake  of 
decency,  forbear  ! '  The  request  was  immediately 
complied  with.  The  jury  acquitted  Hone,  a  result 
which  is  said  to  have  killed  the  Chief  Justice ; 
but  this  is  probably  not  true.  That  he  suffered 
in  consequence  of  the  trial  is  certain.  After  he 
entered  his  private  room,  when  the  trial  was  over, 
his  strength  had  so  far  deserted  him  that  his  son 
was  obliged  to  put  his  hat  on  for  him.  But  he 
quickly  recovered  his  spirits ;  and  on  his  way 
home,  in  passing  through  Charing  Cross,  he  pulled 


the  check-string,  and  said,  '  It  just  occurs  to  me 
that  they  sell  here  the  best  herrings  in  London ; 
buy  six.'  Indeed  Dr.  Turner,  afterwards  Bishop 
of  Calcutta,  ^^•ho  accompanied  him  in  his  carriage, 
said  that  so  far  from  his  ncrvds  being  shaken 
by  the  hootings  of  the  mob.  Lord  Ellenborough 
only  observed  that  their  saliva  was  worse  tlian 
their  bite 

"When  Hone  was  tried  before  him  for  blas- 
phemy, Lord  Tenterden  treated  him  with  great  for- 
bearance ;  but  Hone,  not  content  with  the  in- 
dulgence, took  to  vilifying  the  judge.  '  Even  in  a 
Turkish  court  I  should  not  have  met  with  the  treat- 
ment I  have  experienced  here,'  he  exclaimed. 
'  Certainly,'  replied  Lord  Tenterden  ;  '  the  bow- 
string would  have  been  round  your  neck  an 
hour  ago.'" 

That  sturdy  political  writer,  William  Cobbett, 
lived  at  No.  183  (north),  and  there  published  his 
Political  Register.  In  1819  he  wrote  from  America, 
declaring  that  if  Sir  Robert  Peel's  Bank  Bill  passed, 
he  would  give  Castlcreagh  leave  to  lay  him  on  a 
gridiron  and  broil  him  alive,  while  Sidmouth  stirred 
the  coals,  and  Canning  stood  by  and  laughed  at 
his  groans.  In  1827  he  announced  in  his 
Register  that  he  would  place  a  gridiron  on  the 
front  of  his  shop  whenever  Peel's  Bill  was  repealed. 
The  "Small  Note  Bill"  was  repealed,  when  there 
was  a  reduction  of  the  interest  of  the  National 
Debt.  The  gridiron  so  often  threatened  never 
actually  went  up,  but  it  wag  to  be  seen  a  few  years 
ago  nailed  on  the  gable  end  of  a  candle  manu- 
facturer's at  Kensington.  The  two  houses  next  to 
Cobbett's  (184  and  185)  are  the  oldest  houses 
standing  in  Fleet  Street. 

"  Peele's  Coftee-House"  (Nos.  177  and  178,  north 
side)  once  boasted  a  portrait  of  Dr.  Johnson,  said 
to  be  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  on  the  keystone  of 
the  mantelpiece.  This  coffee-house  is  of  antiquity, 
but  is  chiefly  memorable  for  its  useful  files  of  news- 
papers and  for  its  having  been  the  central  com- 
mittee-room of  the  Society  for  Repealing  the  Paper 
Duty.  The  struggle  began  in  1858,  and  eventually 
triumphed,  thanks  to  the  president,  the  Riglit  Hon. 
Milner  Gibson,  and  the  chairman,  the  late  Mr. 
John  Cassell.  The  house  v/ithin  the  last  few  years 
has  been  entirely  rebuilt.  In  former  times  "  Peele's 
Coffee-House  "  was  quite  a  house  of  call  and  post- 
ofiiQe  for  money-lenders  and  bill-discounters ; 
though  crowds  of  barristers  and  solicitors  also 
frequented  it,  in  order  to  consult  the  useful  files  of 
London  and  country  newspapers  hoarded  there 
for  now  more  than  a  century.  Mr.  Jay  has  left  us  an 
amu.sing  sketch  of  one  of  the  former  frequenters 
of  "  Peele's" — the  late  Sir  William  Owen  Barlow, 


Fleet  Street. j 


TOMPION  AND  PINCHBECK. 


53 


a  bencher  of  the  Middle  Temple.  This  methodical 
Did  gentleman  had  never  travelled  in  a  stage-coach 
or  railway-carriage  in  his  life,  and  had  not  for  years 
read  a  book.  He  came  in  for  dinner  at  the  same 
hour  every  day,  except  in  Term-time,  and  was  very 


angry  if  any  loud  talkers  disturbed  him  at  his 
evertiiig  paper.  He  once  requested  the  instant 
discharge  of  a  waiter  at  "  Peele's,"  because  the 
civil  but  ungrammatical  man  had  said,  "  There  are 
a  leg  of  mutton,  and  there  is  chops." 


CHAPTER    V. 
FLEET    STREET    {continued). 

The  "Grecii  I^ragon  " — Tompion  and  I'iiichbeck— The  iffrtvnj'— St.  Bride's  and  its  Memories— /■««<:/<  and  his  Contributors — The  Dispatch— ^ 
The  Daily  Telegraph — The  "Globe  Tavern  "and  Goldsmith — The  Moniins  Advertiser — The  Standard — The  Loudon  Magazine— h. 
Strange  Story— Alderman  Waithman— Brutus  Billy— Hardham  and  his  "37." 


The  original  ''  Green  Dragon"  (No.  56,  south)  was 
destroyed  by  the  Great  Fire,  and  the  new  building 
set  six  feet  backward.  During  the  Popish  Plot 
several  anti-papal  clubs  met  here ;  and  from  the 
windows  Roger  North  stood  to  see  the  shouting, 
torch-waving  procession  pass  along,  to  burn  the 
Pope's  effigy  at  Temple  Bar.  In  the  "  Discussion 
Forum"  many  Lord  Chancellors  of  the  future  have 
tried  tlieir  eloquence.  It  was  celebrated  some  years 
ago  from  an  allusion  to  it  made  by  Napoleon  III. 

At  No.  67  (corner  of  Whitefriars  Street)  once 
lived  that  famous  watchmaker  of  Queen  Anne's 
reigri,  Thomas  Tbmpion,  Avho  is  said,  in  1700,  to 
have  begun  a  clock  for  St.  Paul's  Cathedral  which 
was  to  gcJ  one  hundred  years  without  winding 
up.  He  died  in  17 13.  His  apprentice,  George 
Graham,  invented,  as  Mr.  Noble  tells  us,  the  hori- 
zontal escapement,  in  1724.  He  was  succeeded 
by  Mudge  and  Dutton,  who,  in  1768,  made  Dr. 
Johnson  his  first  watch.  The  old  shop  was  (1850) 
one  of  the  last  in  Fleet  Street  to  be  modernised. 

Between  Bolt  and  Johnson's  courts  (152-166, 
north) — say  near  "Anderton's  Hotel" — there 
lived,  in  the  reign  of  George  II.,  at  the  'sign  of 
the  "  Astronomer's  Musical  Clock,"  Christopher 
Pinchbeck,  an  ingenious  musical-clockmaker, 
who  invented  the  "  cheap  and  useful  imitation  of 
gold,"  which  still  bears  his  name.  (Watt's,  in  his 
"  Dictionary  of  Chemistr/,"  says  "  pinchbeck  "  is 
an  alloy  of  copper  and  zinc,  usually  containing 
about  nine  parts  copper  to  one  part  zihc.  Brandt 
says  it  is  an  alloy  containing  more  copper  than 
exists  in  brass,  and  consequently  made  by  fusing 
various  proportions  of  copper  with  brass.)  Pinch- 
beck often  exhibited  his  musical  automata  in 
a  booth  at  Bartholomew  Fair,  and,  in  conjunc- 
tion with  FaAvkes  the  Conjuror,  at  Southwark  Fair. 
He  made,  according  to  Mr.  Wood,  an  ex"quisite 
musical  clock,  Avorth  about  ^^500,  for  Louis  XIV.,  •<> 


arid  a  fine  organ  for  the  Great  Mogul, valued  at;,{^3oo. 
He  died  in  1732.  He  removed  to  Fleet 'Street 
(between  Bolt  and  Johnson's  courts,  north  side) 
from  Clerkenwell  in  172 1.  Hi^  clocks  played  tunes 
and  imitated  the  notes  of  birds.  In  1765  he  set 
up,  at  the  Queen's  House,  a  clock  with  four  faces, 
showing  the  age  of  the  moon,  the  day  of  the  Aveek 
and  month,  the  time  of  sun  rising,  &c. 

No.  161  (north)  was  the  shop  of  Thorhas  Hardy, 
that  agitating  bootmaker,  secretary  to  the  London 
Corresponding  Society,  Avho  was  implicated  in  the 
John  Home  Tooke  trials  of  1794;  and  next  door, 
years  after  (No.  162),  Richard  Carlisle,  a  "free- 
thinker," opened  a  lecturing,  conversation,  and 
discussion  establishment,  preached  the  "only  true 
gospel,"  hung  efiigies  of  bishops  outside  his  shop,  and 
was  eventually  quieted  by  nine  years'  imprisonment, 
a  punishment  by  no  means  undeserved.  No.  76 
(south)  was  once  the  entrance  to  the  printing-office 
of  Samuel  Richardson,  the  author  of  "  Clarissa," 
who  afterwards  lived  in  Salisbury  Square,  and 
there  held  levees  of  his  admirers,  to  whom  he 
read  his  works  with  an  innocent  vanity  which 
occasionally  met  with  disagreeable  rebuffs. 

"Anderton's  Hotel"  (No.  164,  nortli  side)  occu- 
pies the  site  of  a  house  given,  as  Mr.  Noble  says, 
in  1405,  to  the  Goldsmiths'  Company,  under  the 
singular  litle  of  "The  Horn  in  the  Hoop,"  pro- 
bably at  that  time  a  tavern.  In  the  register  of 
St.  Dunstan's  is  an  entry  (1597),  "Ralph  slaine 
at  the  Home,  buryed,"  but  no  further  record 
exists  of  this  hot-headed  roysterer.  In  the  reign 
of  King  James  I.  the  "  Horn "  is  described  as 
"  between  the  '  Red  Lion,'  over  against  Serjeants' 
Inn,  and  Three-legged  Alley." 

The  Record  (No.  169,  north  side)  started  in  1828 
as  an  organ  of  the  extreme  Evangelical  party.  The 
first  promoters  were  the  late  Mr.  James  Evans, 
a  brother  of  Sir  Andrew  Acfnew,  and   Mr.  Andrew 


54? 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street 


mm 


Flsst  Street.! 


ST.  BRIDE'S. 


55 


Hamilton,  of  West  Ham  Common  (the  first  secre- 
tary of  the  AUiance  Insurance  Company).  Among 
their  supporters  were  Henry  Law,  Dean  of  Glou- 
cester, and  Francis  Close,  afterwards  Dean  of 
Carlisle.  Amongst  its  earliest  writers  was  the 
celebrated  Dr.  John  Henry  Newman,  of  Oxford. 
The  paper  was  all  but  dying  when  a  new  "  whip  " 


celebrated  for  its  uncompromising  religious  tone 
and,  as  Mr.  James  Grant  truly  says,  for  the 
earliness  and  accuracy  of  its  politico-ecclesiastical 
information. 

The  old  church  of  St.  Bride  (Bridget)  was  of 
gi-eat  antiquity.  As  early  as  1235  we  find  a  turbu- 
lent foreigner,  named  Henry  dc  Battle,  after  slaying 


OLD   HOUSES   (STII.I.   STAXniNO)    IN    KLKKT   STREKT,    NEAR   ST.    DUNSTAN's   CHURCH    (sfC  /age  52). 


was  made  for  money,  and  the  Rev.  Henry  Blunt, 
of  Chelsea,  became  for  a  short  time  its  editor. 
The  Record  at  last  began  to  flourish  and  to 
assume  a  bolder  and  a  more  independent  tone. 
Dean  Milman's  neology,  the  peculiarities  of  the 
Irvingites,  and  the  dangerous  Oxford  tracts,  were 
alternately  denounced.  In  due  cx)urse  the  Record 
began  to  appear  three  times  a  week,  and  became 


one  Thomas  de  Hall  on  the  king's  highway,  flying 
for  sanctuary  to  St.  Bride's,  where  he  was  guarded 
by  the  aldermen  and  sheriffs,  and  er^amined  in  the 
church  by  the  Constable  of  the  Tower.  The  mur- 
derer, after  confessing  his  crime,  abjured  the  realm. 
In  1 413  a  priest  of  St.  Bride's  was  hung  for  an 
intrigue  in  which  he  had  been  detected.  William 
Venor,    a    warden    of    the    Fleet    Prison,    ^dr'^c' 


56 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street. 


a  body  and  side-aisles  in  1480  (Edward  IV.)  At 
the  Reformation  there  were  orchards  between 
:he  parsonage  gardens  and  the  Thames.  In  1637, 
a  document  in  the  Record  Office,  quoted  by 
Mr.  Noble,  mentions  that  Mr.  Palmer,  vicar  of 
St.  Bride's,  at  the  service  at  seven  a.m.,  sometimes 
omitted  the  prayer  for  the  bishop,  and,  beirg  gene- 
rally lax  as  to  forms,  often  read  service  without 
surplice,  gown,  or  even  his  cloak.  This  worthy  man, 
whose  living  was  sequestered  in  1642,  is  recorded, 
m  order  to  save  money  for  the  poor,  to  have  lived  in 
a  bed-chamber  in  St.  Bride's  steeple.  He  founded ' 
an  almshouse  in  Westminster,  upon  which  Fuller 
remarks,  in  his  quaint  way,  "  It  giveth  the  best  light 
when  one  carrieth  his  lantern  before  him."  The 
brother  of  Pepys  was  buried  here  in  1664  under 
his  mother's  pew.  The  old  church  was  swallowed 
up  by  the  Great  Fire,  and  the  present  building 
erected  in  1680,  at  a  cost  of  ;;^i  1,430  5s.  iid. 
The  tower  and  spire  were  considered  mister-pieces 
of  Wren.  The  spire,  originally  234  feet  high,  was 
struck  by  lightning  in  1754,  and  it  is  now  only  226 
feet  high. --It  was  again  struck  in  1803.  The 
illuminated  dial  (the  second  erected  in  London)  was 
set  up  permanently  in  1827.  The  Spital  sermons, 
now  preached  in  Christ  Church,  Newgate  Street, 
•*'ere  preached  in  St.  Bride's  from  the  Restoration 
till  1797.  They  were  originally  all  preached 
in  the  yard  of  the  hospital  of  St.  Mary  Spital, 
Bishopsgate.  Mr.  Noble,  has  ransacked  the 
records  relating  to  St.  Bride's  with  the  patience  of 
old  Stow.  St.  Bride's,  he  says,  was  renowned  for 
its  tithe-rate'  contests  ;  but  after  many  laAvsuits 
and  great  expense,  a  final  settlement  of  the  question 
was  come  to  in  the  years  1705-6.  An  Act  was 
passed  in  1706,  by  which  Thomas  Townley,  who 
had  rented  the  tithes  for  twenty-one  years,  was  to 
be  paid;^i,20o  witliin  two  years,  by  quarterly  pay- 
ments and  ;^4oo  a  year  afterwards.  In  1869  the 
inappropriate  rectory  of  St.  Bridget  and  the  tithes 
there  3f,  except  the  advowson,  the  parsonage  house, 
and  Easter-dues  ofterings,  were  sold  by  auction  for 
;^2,7oo.  It  may  be  here  worthy  to  note,  says 
Mr.  Noble,  that  in  1705  the  number  of  rateable 
houses  in  the  parish  of  St.  Bride  was  1,016,  and 
the  rental  ;!^i8,374  ;  in  1868  the  rental  was 
;^2o5,4o7  gross,  or  ;j^i68,996  rateable. 

Mr.  Noble  also  records  pleasantly  the  musical 
feats  accomplished  on  the  bells  of  St.  Bride's.  In 
1 7 10  ten  bells  were  cast  for  this  church  by  Abra- 
ham Rudhall,  of  Gloucester,  and  on  the  nth  of 
January,  17 17,  it  is  recorded  that  the  first  com- 
plete peal  of  5,040  grandsire  caters  ever  rung  was 
effected  by  the  "London  scholars."  In  17 18  two 
treble  bells  were  added ;  and  on  the  9th  of  January, 


1 7  24,  the  first  peal  ever  completed  in  this  kingdom 
upon  twelve  bells  was  nmg  by  the  college  youths  ; 
and  in  1726  the  first  peal  of  Bob  Maximus,  one 
of  the  ringers  being  Mr.  Francis  (afterwards  Admiral) 
Geary.  It  was  reported  by  the  ancient  ringers,' 
says  our  trustworthy  authority,  that  every  one  who 
rang  in  the  last-mentioned  peal  left  the  church  in 
his  own  carriage.  Such  was  the  dignity  of  the  "  cam- 
panularian"  art  in  those  days.  When  St.  Bride's 
bells  were  first  put  up,  Fleet  Street  used  to  be 
tiironged  with  carriages  full  of  gentry,  who  had  come 
far  and  near  to  hear  the  pleasant  music  float  aloft. 
During  the  terrible  Gordon  Riots,  in  1780,  Bras- 
bridge,  the  silversmith,  who  wrote  an  autobiography, 
says  he  went  up  to  the  top  of  St.  Bride's  steeple  to 
see  the  awful  spectacle  of  the  conflagration  of  the 
Fleet  Prison,  but  the  flakes  of  fire,  even  at  that 
great  height,  fell  so  thickly  as  to  render  die  situa- 
tion untenable. 

Many  great  people  lie  in  and  around  St.  Bride's ; 
and  Mr.  Noble  gives  several  curious  extracts  from 
the  registers.  Among  the  names  we  find  Wynkyn 
de  Worde,  the  second  printer  in  London ;  Baker, 
the  chronicler ;  Lovelace,  the  Cavalier  poet,  who 
died  of  want  in  Gunpowder  Alley,.  Shoe  Lane ; 
Ogilby,  the  translator  of  Homer ;  the  Countess  of 
Orrery  ( 1 7 1  o) ;  Elizabeth  Thomas,  a  lady  immor- 
talised by  Pope ;  and  John  Hardham,  the  Fleet  Street 
tobacconist.  The  entrance  to  the  vault  of  Mr. 
Holden  (a  friend  of  Pepys),  on  the  north  side  of 
the  church,  is  a  relic  of  the  older  building.  Inside 
St.  Bride's  are  monuments  to  Richardson,  the 
novelist;  Nichols,  the  historian  of  Leicestershire; 
and  Alderman  Waithman.  Among  the  clergy  of 
St.  Bride's  Mr.  Noble  notes  John  Cardmaker,  who 
was  burnt  at  Smithfield  for  heresy,  in  1555;  Fuller, 
the  Church  historian  and  author  of  the  "Worthies," 
who  was  lecturer  here ;  Dr.  Isaac  Madox,  originally 
an  apprentice  to  a  pastrycook,  and  who  died  Bishop 
of  Winchester  in  1759  ;  and  Di*.  John  Thomas,  vicar, 
who  died  in  1 793.  There  were  two  John  Thomases 
among  the  City  clergy  of  that  time.  They  were  both 
chaplains  to  the  king,  both  good  preachers,  both 
squinted,  and  both  died  bishops  ! 

The  present  approach  to  St.  Bride's,  designed  by 
J.  P.  Papworth,  in  1824,  cost  ;^io,ooo,  and  was 
urged  forward  by  Mr.  Blades,  a  Tory  tradesman  of 
Ludgate  Hill,  and  a  great  opponent  of  Alderman 
Waithman.  A  fire  that  had  destroyed  some 
ricketty  old  houses  gave  the  requisite  opportunity 
for  letting  air  and  light  round  poor,  smotherecl-up 
St.  Bride's. 

The  office  of  Puiuh  (No.  85,  south  side)  is  said 
to  occupy  the  site  of  the  small  school,  in  the  hous-j 
of  a  tailor,  in  which  Milton  once  earned  a  precarious 


Fleet  Street.] 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  PUNCH. 


living.     Here,  ever  since  1841,  the  pleasant  jester  of 
Fleet  Street  has  scared  folly  by  the  jangle  of  his  bells 
and  the  blows    of  his   staff.     The  best   and  most 
authentic  account  of  the  origin  of  Punch  is  to  be 
found  in  the  following  communication  to  Notes  and 
Queries,  September  30,  1870.    Mr.  W.  H.  ^Vills,  who 
was  one  of  the  earliest  eontiibutors  to  Punch,  says  : — 
"  The  idea  of  converting  Punch  from  a  strolling 
to  a  literary  laughing  philosopher  belongs  to  Mr. 
Henry    Mayhew,    former   editor   (with  his  school- 
fellow Mr.  Ciilbert  a  Beckett)  of  Figaro  in  London. 
The  first  three  numbers,  issued  in  July  and  August, 
1 841,    were    composed    almost    entirely    by   that 
gentleman,  Mr.  Mark  Lemon,  Mr.  Henry  Plunkett 
('  Fusbos '),   Mr.   Stirling  Coyne,  and  the  writer  of 
these  lines.     Messrs.  Mayhew  and  Lemon  put  the 
numbers  together,  but  did  not  formally  dub  them- 
selves editors  until  the  appearance  of  their  'Shilling's  | 
Worth  of  Nonsense.'     The  cartoons,  then  'Punch's 
Pencillings,'  and  the  smaller  cuts,  were  drawn  by 
Mr.  A.  S.  Henning,  Mr.  Newman,  and  Mr.  Alfred 
Forester  ('Crowquill');  later,  by  Mr.  Hablot  Browne 
and  Mr.  Kenny  Meadows.     The  designs  were  en- 
graved by  Mr.  Ebenezer  Landells,  who  occupied  also 
the  important  position  of  '  capitalist.'     Mr.  Gilbert 
K  Beckett's  first  contribution  to  Punch,  'The  Above- 
bridge  Navy,'  appeared  in  No.   4,  with  Mr.  John 
Leech's  earliest  cartoon,  '  Foreign  Affairs.'     It  was 
not   till    Mr,     Leech's    strong    objection    to   treat 
political  subjects  was  overcome,  that,  long  after,  he 
began  to  illustrate  Punch's  pages  regularly.     This 
he    did,  with    the  brilliant    results  that   made  his 
name  famous,  down  to  his  untimely  death.     The 
letterpress   description   of    '  Foreign    Affairs '   was 
Avritten    by   Mr.    Percival    Leigli,  who — also  after 
an   interval — steadily   contributed.      Mr.   Douglas 
Jerrold   began  to  wield  Punch's  baton   in  No.  9. 
His  *  Peel  Regularly  Called  in '  was   the   first  of 
those  withering  political  satires,  signed  with  a  '  J  ' 
in  tlie  corner  of  each  page  opposite  to  the  cartoon, 
that  conferred  on  Pujich  a  wholesome  influence  in 
politics.     Mr.  Albert  Smith  made  his  debut  in  this 
wise  : — At   the   birth   of  Ptinch   had   just  died    a 
periodical  called  (I  think)  the  Cosnwrama.     When 
moribund,  Mr.   Henry  Mayhew  was  called  in  to 
resuscitate  it.     This  periodical  bequeathed  a  comic 
census-paper  filled  up,  in  the  character  of  a  show- 
man, so  cleverly  that  the  author  was  eagerly  sought 
at   the   starting   of  Punch.      He   proved   to  be  a 
medical  student  hailing  from  Chertsey,  and  signing 
the  initials  A.  S. — '  only,'  remarked  Jerrold,  '  two- 
thirds  of  the   truth,  perhaps.'     This  pleasant  sup- 
position was,  however,  reversed  at   the  very  first 
introduction.       On     that     occasion     Mr.    Albert 
Smith   left  the   'copy'  of  the   opening  of  'The 


Physiology    of    the    London     Medical     Student.' 
The   writers   already   named,    with   a    few   volun- 
teers selected  from  the  editor's  box,  filled  the  first 
volume,  and  belonged  to  the  ante-'B.  &  YJ  era  of 
Punch's   history.      The    proprietary   had    hitherto 
consisted    of    Messrs.     Henry    Mayhew,    Lemon, 
Coyne,  and  Landells.     The  printer  and  publisher 
also  held  shares,   and  were   treasurers.     Althougli 
the  popularity  of  Punch  exceeded  all  expectation, 
the  first  volume  ended  in  difirculties.     From  these 
storm-tossed  seas  Punch  was  rescued  and  brouglit 
into  smooth  water  by  Messrs.  Bradbury  &  Evans, 
who  acquired  the  copyright  and  organised  the  staff. 
Then  it  was  that  Mr.  Mark  Lemon  was  appointed 
sole  editor,  a  new  office  having  been  created  for 
Mr.  Henry  Mayhew — that  of  Suggestor- in -Chief; 
Mr.  Mayhew's  contributions,  and  his  felicity  in  in- 
venting pictorial  and  in  '  putting'  verbal  witticisms, 
having  already  set  a  deep  mark  upon  Punch's  suc- 
cess.   The  second  volume  started  merrily.   Mr.  John 
Oxenford  contributed  his  firstyVw  d'esprit  in  its  final 
number  on  '  Herr  Dobler  and  the  Candle-Counter,' 
Mr.  Thackeray  commenced  his  connection  in  the 
beginning  of  the  third  volume  with  '  Miss  Tickle- 
toby's  Lectures  on  English  History,'  illustrated  by 
himself.      A    few  weeks  later  a  handsome  young 
student  returned  from  Germany.     He  was  heartily 
welcomed  by  his  brother,  Mr.  Henry  Mayhew,  and 
then  by   the  rest  of  the  fraternity.      Mr.  Horace 
Mayhew's  dijiloma    joke  consisted,    I  believe,    of 
'  Questions   addressees   au   Grand    Concours    aux 
Elbves  d'Anglais  du   Colle'ge  St.  Badaud,  dans  le 
Departement  de  la   Haute    Cockaigne'  (vol.  iii., 
p.  89).     Mr.   Richard  Doyle,    Mr,    Tenniel,    Mr, 
Shirley  Brooks,  Mr,  Tom  Taylor,  and  the  you-nger 
celebrities  who  now  keep  Mr.  Punch  in  vigorous 
and  jovial  vitality,  joined  his  establishment  after 
some  of  the  birth-mates   had  been  drafted  off  to 
graver  literary  and  other  tasks," 

Mr,  Mark  Lemon  remained  editor  of  Punch  from 
1841  till  1870,  when  he  died.  Mr.  Gilbert  \  Beckett 
died  at  Boulogne  in  1856.  This  most  accomplished 
and  gifted  Avriter  succeeded  in  the  more  varied  kinds 
of  composition,  turning  Avitla  extraordinary  rapidity 
from  a  Times  leader  to  a  Punch  epigram, 

A  pamphlet  attributed  to  Mr.  Blanchard  conveys, 
after  all,  the  most  minute  account  of  the  origin  of 
Punch.  A  favourite  story  of  the  literary  gossipers 
who  have  niade  Mr.  Punch  their  subject  from  time 
to  time,  says  the  writer,  is  that  he  was  born  in  a 
tavern  parlour.  The  idea  usually  presented  to  the 
public  is,  that  a  little  society  of  great  men  used  to 
meet  together  in  a  private  room  in  a  tavern  close 
to  Dniry  Lane  Tlieatre — the  "  Crown  Tavern,"  in 
Vinegar  Yard.     The  truth  is  this  : — • 


S8 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street 


In  the  year  1841  there  was  a  printing-office  in  a 
court  running  out  of  Fleet  Street — No,  3,  Crane 
Court — wherein  was  carried  on  the  business  of 
Mr.  William  Last.  It  was  here  that  Punch  first  saw 
the  light.  The  house,  by  the  way,  enjoys  besides 
a  distinction  of  a  different-  kind — that  of  being 
the  birthplace  of  "Parr's  Life  Pills;"  for  Mr. 
Herbert  Ingram,  who  had  not  at  that  time  launched 
the  Illustrated  London  Ncivs,  nor  become  a  member 
of  Parliament,  was  then  introducing  that  since 
celebrated  medicine  to  the  public,  and  for  that 
purpose  had  rented  some  rooms  on  the  premises 
of  his  friend  Mr.  Last. 

The  circumstance  which  led  to  Punches  birth  was 
simple  enough.  In  June,  1841,  Mr.  Last  called 
upon  Mr.  Alfred  Mayhew,  then  in  the  office  of  his 
father,  Mr.  Joshua  Mayhew,  the  well-known  solicitor, 
of  Carey  Street,  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  Mr.  May- 
hew was  Mr.  Last's  legal  adviser,  and  Mr.  Last 
was  well  acquainted  with  several  of  his  sons. 
Upon  the  occasion  in  question  Mr.  I^st  made 
some  inquiries  of  Mr.  Alfred  Mayhew  concerning 
his  brother  Henry,  and  his  occupation  at  the  time. 
Mr.  Henry  Mayliew  had,  even  at  his  then  early 
age,  a  reputation  for  the  high  abilities  which  he 
afterwards  developed,  had  already  experience  in 
various  departments  of  literature,  and  had  exer- 
cised his  projective  and  inventive  faculties  in 
various  ways.  If  his  friends  had  heard  nothing  of 
him  for  a  few  months,  they  usually  found  that  he 
had  a  new  design  in  hand,  which  was,  however,  in 
many  cases,  of  a  more  original  than  practical  cha- 
racter. Mr.  Henry  Mayhew,  as  it  appeared  from  his 
brother  Alfred's  reply,  was  not  at  that  time  engaged 
in  any  new  effiart  of  his  creative  genius,  and  would 
be  open  to  a  proposal  for  active  service. 

Having  obtained  Mr.  Henry  Mayhew's  address, 
which  was  in  Clement's  Inn,  Mr.  Last  called  upon 
that  gentleman  on  the  following  morning,  and 
opened  to  him  a  proposal  for  a  comic  and  satirical 
journal.  Henry  Mayhew  readily  entertained  the 
idea ;  and  the  next  question  was,  **  Can  you  get  up 
a  staff?"  Henry  Mayhew  mentioned  his  friend 
Mark  Lemon  as  a  good  commencement ;  and  the 
pair  proceeded  to  call  upon  that  gentleman,  who  was 
Mving,  not  far  off,  in  Newcastle  Street,  Strand.  The 
almost  immediate  result  was  the  starting  of  Punch. 
At  a  meeting  at  the  "  Edinburgh  Castle "  Mr. 
Mark  Lemon  drew  up  the  original  prospectus.  It 
was  at  first  intended  to  call  the  new  publication 
"  The  Funny  Dog,"  or  "  Funny  Dog,  with  Comic 
Tales,"  and  from  the  first  the  subsidiary  title  of  the 
"  London  Charivari  "  was  agreed  upon.  At  a  sub- 
sequent meeting  at  the  printing-office,  some  one 
made  some  allusion  to  the  *'  Punch,"   and   some 


joke  about  the  "  Lemon  "  in  it.     Henry  Mayhew, 

with  his  usual  electric  quickness,  at  once  flew  at 

the  idea,  and  cried  out,  "  A  good  thought ;  we'll 

call  it  Punch."  It  was  then  remembered  that,  years 

before,  Douglas  Jerrold  had  edited  a  Penny  Punch 

for  Mr.  Duncombe,  of  Middle  Row,  Holborn,  but 

this  was  thought  no  objection,  and  the  new  name 

*was  carried  by  acclamation.     It  was  agreed  tliat 

there   should   be   four  proprietors — Messrs.   Last, 

Landells,    Lemon,    and    Mayhew.       Last   was   to 

supply  the  printing,  Landells  tlie    engraving,  and 

Lemon  and  Mayhew  were  to  be  co-editors.    George 

Hodder,  with  his  usual  good-nature,  at  once  secured 

Mr.    Percival  Leigh  as  a  contributor,  and   Leigh 

brought  in  his  friend  Mr.  John  Leech,  and  Leech 

I  brought  in  Albert  Smitli.     Mr.  Henning  designed 

I  the  cover.     When  Last  had  sunk  jQdoo,  he  sold  it 

i  to  Bradbury  &   Evans,  on   receiving  the  amount 

'  of  his  then  outstanding  liabilities.     At  the  transfer 

!  Henning   and  Newman  both  retired,    Mr.  Coyne 

I  and  Mr.  Grattan  seldom  contributed,  and  Mi^ssrs. 

Mayhew  and  Landells  also  seceded. 

Mr.Hine,  the  artist,  remained  with  Puncldox  n.any 
years ;  and  among  other  artistic  contributors  who 
"  came  and  went,"  to  use  Mr.  Blanchard's  own  words, 
we  must  mention  Birket  Foster,  Alfred  CrowquiH, 
Lee,  Hamerton,  John  Gilbert,  "William  Harvey,  and 
Kenny  Meadows,  the  last  of  whom  illustrated  one 
of  Jerrold's  earliest  series,  "  Punch's  Letters  to 
His  Son."  Punches  Almanac  for  184 1  was  con- 
cocted for  the  greater  part  by  Dr.  Maginn,  who 
was  then  in  the  Fleet  Prison,  where  Thackeray  has 
drawn  him,  in  the  character  of  Captain  Shandon, 
writing  the  famous  prospectus  for  the  Pall  Mall 
Gazette.  The  earliest  hits  of  Punch  were  Douglas 
Jerrold's  articles  signed  "  J."  and  Gilbert  a  Beckett's 
"Adventures  of  Mr.  Briefless."  In  October,  1841, 
Mr.  W.  H.  Wills,  afterwards  working  editor  oi House- 
hold Words  and  All  the  Year  Round,  commenced 
"  Punch's  Guide  to  the  Watering- Places."  In 
January,  1842,  Albert  Smitli  commenced  his  lively 
"  Physiology  of  London  Evening  Parties,"  which 
were  illustrated  by  Newman ;  and  he  wrote  the 
"  Physiology  of  the  London  Idler,"  which  Leecli 
illustrated.  In  the  third  volume,  Jerrold  com- 
menced "  Punch's  Letters  to  His  Son ; "  and  in 
the  fourth  volume,  his  "Story  of  a  Feather;" 
Albert  Smith's  "Side -Scenes  of  Society"  carried 
on  the  social  dissections  of  the  comic  physiologist, 
and  a  Beckett  began  his  "Heathen  Mythology," 
and  created  the  character  of  "Jenkins,"  the  sup- 
posed fashionable  correspondent  of  the  Morning 
Post.  Punch  had  begun  his  career  by  ridiculing 
Lord  Melbourne ;  he  now  attacked  Brougham,  for 
his  temporary  subservience  to  Wellington  ;  and  Sir 


Fleet  Street.] 


"HOT,    CROSS   BUNN." 


59 


James  Graham  came  also  in  for  a  share  of  the  rod  ; 
and  the  Morning  Herald  and  Standard  were  chris- 
tened "Mrs.  Gamp"  and  "Mrs.  Harris,"  as  old- 
fogyish  opponents  of  Peel  and  the  Free-Traders. 
A  Beckett's  "  Comic  Blackstone  "  proved  a  great 
hit,  from  its  daring  originality ;  and  incessant  jokes 
were  squibbed  off  on  Lord  John  Russell,  Prince 
Albert  (for  his  military  tailoring),  Mr,  Silk  Bucking- 
ham and  Lord  William  Lennox,  Mr.  Samuel  Carter 
Hall  and  Mr.  Harrison  Ainsworth.  Tennyson 
once,  and  once  only,  wrote  for  Punch,  a  reply  to 
Lord  Lytton  (then  Mr.  Bulwer),  who  had  coarsely 
attacked  him  in  his  "  New  Timon,"  where  he  had 
spoken  flippantly  of 

"  A  quaint  farrago  of  absurd  conceits, 
Out-babying  Wordsworth  and  out-glittering  Keats." 

The  epigram  ended  with  these  bitter  and  con- 
temptuous lines, — ■ 

' '  A  Timon  you  ?    Nay,  nay,  for  shame  I 
It  looks  too  arrogant  a  jest — 
That  fierce  old  man— to  take  his  name, 
You  bandbox  !     Off,  and  let  him  rest." 

Albert  Smitli  left  Punch  many  years  before  his 
death.  In  1845,  on  his  return  from  the  East,  Mr. 
Thackeray  began  his  "  Jeames's  Diary,"  and  became 
a  regular  contributor.  Gilbert  li  Beckett  was  now 
beginning  his  "Comic  History  of  England"  and 
Douglas  Jerrold  his  inimitable  "  Caudle  Lectures." 
Thomas  Hood  occasionally  contributed,  but  his 
immortal  "Song  of  the  Shirt"  was  \i\9,chcf-d^oiuvre. 
Coventry  Patmore  contributed  once  to  Punch; 
his  verses  denounced  General  Pellisier  and  his 
cruelty  at  the  caves  of  Dahra.  Laman  Blanchard 
occasionally  wrote  ;  his  best  poem  was  one  on  the 
marriage  and  temporary  retireipent  of  charming 
Mrs.  Nisbett.  In  1846  Thackeray's  "Snobs  of 
England  "  was  highly  successful.  Richard  Doyle's 
"  Manners  and  Customs  of  ye  English "  brought 
Pu7ich  much  increase.  The  present  cover  of 
Punch  is  by  Doyle,  who,  being  a  zealous  Roman 
Catholic,  eventually  left  Punch  when  it  began  to 
ridicule  the  Pope  and  condemn  Papal  aggression. 
Punch  in  his  time  has  had  his  raps,  but  not  many 
and  not  hard  ones.  Poor  Angus  B.  Reach  (whose 
mind  went  early  in  life),  with  Albert  Smith  and 
Shirley  Brooks,  ridiculed  Punch  in  the  Man  in  the 
Moon,  and  in  1847  the  Poet  Bunn — "Hot,  cross 
Bunn" — provoked  at  incessant  attacks  on  his 
operatic  verses,  hired  a  man  of  letters  to  write 
"A  Word  with  Punch,''  and  a  few  smart  person- 
alities soon  silenced  the  jester.  "Towards  1848," 
says  Mr.  Blanchard,  "  Douglas  Jerrold,  then  \yriting 
plays  and  editing  a  magazine,  began  to  write  less 
iox  Punch."     In  185  7,  he  died.     Among  the  later 


additions  to  the  staff  were  Mr.  Tom  Taylor  and 
Mr.  Shirley  Brooks. 

The  Dispatch  (No.  139,  north)  was  established 
by  Mr.  Bell,  in  1801.  Moving  from  Bride  Lane 
to  Newca'^tle  Street,  and  thence  to  Wine  Oflice 
Couft,  it  settled  down  in  the  present  locality  in 
1824.  Mr.  Bell  was  an  energetic  man,  and  the 
paper  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  good  position  j 
but  he  was  not  a  man  of  large  capital,  aad  other 
persons  had  shares  in  the  property.  In  conse- 
quence of  difficulties  between  the  proprietors  there 
were  at  one  time  three  Dispatches  in  the  field — 
Bell's,  Kent's,  and  Duckett's  ;  but  the  two  last- 
mentioned  were  short-lived,  and  Mr.  Bell  maintained 
his  position.  Bell's  was  a  sporting  paper,  with  many 
columns  devoted  to  pugilism,  and  a  Avoodcut  ex- 
hibiting two  boxers  ready  for  an  encounter.  But 
the  editor  (says  a  story  more  or  less  authentic), 
Mr.  Samuel  Smith,  who  had  obtained  his  post  by 
cleverly  reporting  a  fight  near  Canterbury,  one 
day  received  a  severe  thrashing  from  a  famous 
member  of  the  ring.  This  changed  the  editor's 
opinions  as  to  the  propriety  of  boxing — at  any- 
rate  pugilism  was  repudiated  by  the  Dispatch 
about  1829  ;  and  boxing,  from  the  Dispatch  point  of 
view,  was  henceforward  treated  as  a  degrading  and 
brutal  amusement,  unworthy  of  our  civilisation. 

Mr.  Harmer  (afterwards  Alderman),  a  solicitor  in 
extensive  practice  in  Old  Bailey  cases,  became 
connected  with  the  paper  about  the  time  when  the 
Fleet  Street  office  was  established,  and  contributed 
capital,  which  soon  bore  fi'uit.  The  success  was 
so  great,  that  for  many  years  the  Dispatch  as  a 
property  was  inferior  only  to  the  Times.  It  be- 
came famous  for  its  letters  on  political  subjects. 
The  original  "  Publicola "  was  Mr.  ^Villiams,  a 
violent  and  coarse  but  very  vigorous  and  popular 
writer.  He  wrote  weekly  for  about  sixteen  or 
sevente^i  years,  and  after  his  death  the  signature 
was  assumed  by  Mr.  Fox,  the  famous  orator  and 
member  for  Oldham.  Other  writers  also  borrowed 
the  well-known  signature.  Eliza  Cooke  wrote  in  the 
Dispatch  in  1836,  at  first  signing  her  poems  "  E." 
and  "'E.  C." ;  but  in  the  course  of  the  following  year 
her  name  appeared  in  full.  She  contributed  a  poem 
weekly  for  several  years,  relinquishing  her  con- 
nection with  the  paper  in  1850.  Afterwards,  in 
1869,  when  the  property  changed  hands,  she  wrote 
two  or  three  poems.  Under  the  signature  "Caustic," 
Mr.  Serle,  the  dramatic  author  and  editor,  con- 
tributed a  weekly  letter  for  about  twenty-seven 
years;  and  from  1856  till  1869  was  editor-in  chief. 
In  1841-42  the  Dispatch  had  a  hard-fought  duel 
with  the  Times.  "Publicola"  wrote  a  series  of 
letters,    which   had  the   effeet    of  preventing   the 


6o 


OLD  AND    NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street 


election  of  Mr.  Walter  for  Southwark,  The  Times 
retaliated  when  the  time  came  for  Alderman 
Harmer  to  succeed  to  the  lord  mayoralty.  Day  after 
day  the  Tunes  returned  to  the  attack,  denouncing 
the  Dispatch  as  an  infidel  paper;  and  Alderman 
Harmer,  rejected  by  the  City,  resigned  in  conse- 


Telegraph  was  started  on  June  29,  1855,  by 
the  late  Colonel  Sleigh.  It  was  a  single  sheet, 
and  the  price  twopence.  Colonel  Sleigh  failing  to 
make  it  a  success,  Mr.  Levy,  the  present  chief 
proprietor  of  the  paper,  took  the  copyright  as  part 
security  for  money  owed  him  by  Colonel  Sleigh. 


bkide's  church,  tlekt  stkkkt,  aitkr  the  fire,   1824  [sec  pcr;c  56). 


quence  his  aldermanic  gown.  In  1857  ^t  Dispatch 
commenced  the  publication  of  its  famous  "  Atlas," 
giving  away  a  good  map  weekly  for  about  five  years. 
The  price  was  reduced  from  fivepence  to  twopence, 
at  the  beginning  of  1869,  and  to  a  penny  in  1870. 
The  Daily  Telegraph  office  is  No.  136  (north). 
Mr.  Ingram,  of  the  Illustrated  London  News, 
originated  a  paper  called  the  Telegraph,  which  lasted 
only  seven  or   eight  weeks.      The  present  Daily 


In  Mr.  Levy's  hands  the  paper,  reduced  to  a  penny, 
became  a  great  success.  "  It  was,"  says  Mr.  Grant, 
in  his  "  History  of  the  Newspaper  Press,"  "  the 
first  of  the  penny  papers,  while  a  single  sheet,  and 
as  such  was  regarded  as  a  newspaper  marvel ;  but 
when  it  came  out — which  it  did  soon  after  the 
Standard— d.?,  a  double  sheet  the  size  of  the  Times, 
published  at  fourpence,  for  a  penny,  it  created  quite 
a  sensation.     Here  was  a  penny  paper,  containing 


Fleet  Street.] 


GOLDSMITH   AT  THE   "GLOBE." 


6t 


not  only  the  same  amount  of  telegraphic  and 
general  information  as  the  other  high-priced 
papers — their  price  being  then  fourpence  —  but 
also  evidently  written,  in  its  leading  article  de- 
partment, with  an  ability  which  could  only  be 
surpassed  by  that  of  the  leading  articles  of  the 
Tif/ies  itself.  This  was  indeed  a  new  era  in  the 
morning  journalism  of  the  metropolis."  When  Mr. 
Levy  bought  the  Telegraph,  the  sum  which  he 
received  for  advertisements  in  the  first  number  was 


The  "Globe  Tavern"  (No.  i34,north),  though  now 
only  a  memory,  abounds  with  traditions  of  Goldsmith 
and  his  motley  friends.  The  house,  in  1649,  was 
leased  to  one  Henry  Hottersall  for  forty-one  years, 
at  the  yearly  rent  of  ^75,  ten  gallons  of  Canary 
sack,  and  ;!^4oo  fine.  Mr.  John  Forster -gives  a 
delightful  sketch  of  Goldsmith's  Wednesday  even- 
ing club  at  the  "Globe,"  in  1767.  When  not  at 
Johnson's  great  club,  Oliver  beguiled  his  cares  at  a 
shilling  rubber  club  at  the  "  Devil  Tavern,"  or  at  a 


waithman's  shop  [see  page  65). 


exactly  7s.  6d.  The  daily  receipts  for  advertise- 
ments are  now  said  to  exceed  ^^500.  Mr.  Grant 
says  that  the  remission  of  the  tax  on  paper 
brought  ^12,000  a  year  extra  to  the  Telegraph. 
Ten  pages  for  a  penny  is  no  uncommon  thing  with 
the  Telegraph  during  the  Parliamentary  session. 
The  returns  of  sales  given  by  the  Telegraph  for  the 
half-year  ending  1870  show  an  average  daily  sale 
of  190,885  ;  and  though  this  was  war  time,  a 
competent  authority  estimates  the  average  daily 
sale  at  175,000  copies.  One  of  the  printing- 
machines  recently  set  up  by  the  proprietors  of 
the  Telegraph  throws  off  upwards  of  200  copies 
per  minute,  or  12,000  an  hour. 
6 


humble  gathering  in  the  parlour  of  the  "  Bedford," 
Covent  Garden.  A  hanger-on  of  the  theatres,  who 
frequented  the  "  Globe,"  has  left  notes  which  Mr. 
Forster  has  admirably  used,  and  which  we  now 
abridge  without  further  apology.  Grim  old  Mack- 
lin  belonged  to  the  club  it  is  certain ;  and 
among  the  less  obscure  members  was  King,  the 
comedian,  the  celebrated  impersonator  of  Lord 
Ogleby.  Hugh  Kelly,  another  member,  was  a 
clever  young  Irishman,  who  had  chambers  near 
Goldsmith  in  the  Temple,  He  had  been  a  stay- 
maker's  apprentice,  who,  turning  law  writer,  and 
soon  landing  as  a  hack  for  the  magazines,  set 
up    as   a   satirist   for  the    stage,   and   eventually, 


62 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Strtet. 


through  Garrick's  patronage,  succeeded   in   senti- 
mental  comedy.      It  was   of  him  Johnson   said, 
"  Sir,  I  never  desire  to  converse  with  a  man  who 
has  written  more  than  he  has  read."     Poor  Kelly 
afterwards  went  to  the  Bar,  and  died  of  disappoint- 
ment and  over-work.    A  third  member  was  Captain 
Thompson,  a  friend  of  Garrick's,  who  wrote  some 
good  sea  songs  and  edited  "Andrew  Marvell;"  but 
foremost    among  all    the    boon    companions   was 
a  needy   Irish   doctor    named    Glover,    who   had 
appeared  on  the  stage,  and  who  was  said  to  have 
restored   to  life  a  man  who  had  been  hung ;  this 
Glover,  who  was  famous  for  his  songs  and  imita- 
tions,   once  had    the  impudence,   like  Theodore 
Hook,  to  introduce  Goldsmith,  during  a  summer 
ramble   in   Hampstead,  to  a  party  where  he  was 
an  entire  stranger,  and  to  pass  himself  off  as  a 
friend   of   the    host.      "  Our    Dr.    Glover,"    says 
Goldsmith,  "  had  a  constant  levee  of  his  distressed 
countrymen,  whose  wants,  as  far  as  he  was  able,  he 
always  relieved."     Gordon,  the  fattest  man  in  the 
club,  was  renowned  for  his  jovial  song  of  "Notting- 
ham  Ale ;"  and  on  special  occasions  Goldsmith 
himself  would  sing  his  favourite  nonsense  about  the 
little  old  woman  who  was  tossed  seventeen  times 
higher  than  the  moon.     A  fat  pork-butcher  at  the 
"  Globe  "  used  to  offend  Goldsmith  by  constantly 
shouting  out,  "  Come,  Noll,   here's  my  service  to 
you,  old  boy,"      After  the  success  of  The   Good- 
nahired  Man,  this  coarse  familiarity  was  more  than 
Goldsmith's  vanity  could  bear,  so  one  special  night 
he  addressed  the  butcher  with  grave  reproof.     The 
stolid    man,   taking    no    notice,    replied    briskly, 
"Thankee,   Mister   Noll."     "Well,   where   is   the 
advantage  of  your  reproof  ?"  asked  Glover.     "In 
truth,"  said  Goldsmith,  good-naturedly,  "  I  give  it 
up  ;  I  ought  to  have  known  before  that  there  is  no 
putting  a  pig  in  the  right  way."     Sometimes  rather 
cruel  tricks  were  played  on  the  credulous   poet. 
One  evening  Goldsmith  came  in  clamorous  for  his 
supper,   and  ordered  chops.     Directly  the  supper 
came  in,  the  wags,  by  pre-agreement,  began  to  sniff 
and  swear.     Some  pushed  the  plate  away ;  others 
declared  the  rascal  who  had  dared  set  such  chops 
before  a  gentleman  should  be  made  to  swallow  them 
himself.     The  waiter  was  savagely  rung  up,  and 
forced  to  eat  the  supper,  to  which  he  consented 
with  well-feigned  reluctance,  the  poet  calmly  ordering 
a  fresh  supper  and  a  dram  for  the  poor  waiter,  "  who 
otherwise    might  get   sick  from   so  nauseating   a 
meal."  Poor  Goldy !  kindly  even  at  his  most  foolish 
moments,     A  sadder  story  still  connects  Goldsmith 
with   the    "  Globe."      Ned    Purdon,   a  worn-out 
booksellers'   hack   and  a  protege  of  Goldsmith's, 
dropped  down   dead    in  Smithfield.      Goldsmith 


wrote  his  epitaph  as  he  came  from  his  chambers  in 
the  Temple  to  the  "  Globe."     The  lines  are  :— 

"  Here  lies  poor  Ned  Purdon,  from  misery  freed, 
Who  long  was  a  booksellers'  hack  ; 
He  led  sucli  a  miserable  life  in  this  world, 
I  don't  think  he'll  wish  to  come  back." 

Goldsmith  sat  next  Glover  that  night  at  tlie  clul), 
and  Glover  heard  the  poet  repeat,  sotto  voce,  with  a 
mournful  intonation,  the  words, — 

"  I  don't  think  he'll  wish  to  come  back," 

Oliver  was  musing  over  his  own  life,  and  Mr.  Forster 
says  touchingly,  "  It  is  not  without  a  certain  pathos 
to  me,  indeed,  that  he  should  have  so  repeated  it." 
Among  other  frequenters  of  the  "Globe"  were 
Boswell's  friend  Akerman,  the  keeper  of  Newgate, 
who  always  thought  it  prudent  never  to  return  home 
till  daybreak  ;  and  William  Woodfall,  the  celebrated 
Parliamentary  reporter.  In  later  times  Brasbridge, 
the  sporting  silversmith  of  Fleet  Street,  was  a  fre- 
quenter of  the  club.  He  tells  us  that  among 
•his  associates  was  a  surgeon,  who,  living  on  the 
Surrey  side  of  the  Thames,  had  to  take  a  boat 
every  night  (Blackfriar's  Bridge  not  being  then 
built).  This  nightly  navigation  cost  him  three 
or  four  shillings  a  time,  yet,  when  the  bridge  came, 
he  grumbled  at  having  to  pay  a  penny  toll. 
Among  other  frequenters  of  the  "Globe,"  Mr. 
Timbs  enumerates  ^'  Archibald  Hamilton,  whose 
mind  was  'fit  for  a  lord  chancellor/  Dunstall,  the 
comedian ;  Carnan,  the  bookseller,  who  defeated 
the  Stationers'  Company  in  the  almanack  trial ; 
and,  later  still,  the  eccentric  Hugh  Evelyn,  who  set 
up  a  claim  upon  the  great  Surrey  estate  of  Sir 
Frederic  Evelyn." 

The  Standard  (No.  129,  north),  "  the  largest  daily 
paper,"  was  originally  an  evening  paper  alone.  In 
1826  a  deputation  of  the  leading  men  opposed  to 
Catholic  Emancipation  waited  on  Mr.  Charles 
Baldwin,  proprietor  of  the  St.  James's  Chronicle,  and 
begged  him  to  start  an  anti-Catholic  evening  paper, 
but  Mr.  Baldwin  refused  unless  a  preliminary  sum 
of  ;!^i 5,000  was  lodged  at  the  banker's.  A  year  later 
this  sum  was  deposited,  and  in  1827  the  Evening 
Standard,  edited  by  Dr.  Giffard,  ex-editor  of  the 
St.  James's  Chronicle,  appeared.  Mr.  Alaric  Watts, 
the  poet,  was  succeeded  as  sub-editor  of  the 
Standard  by  the  celebrated  Dr.  Maginn.  The 
daily  circulation  soon  rose  from  700  or  800  copies 
to  3,000  and  over.  The  profits  Mr.  Grant  cal- 
culates at  ^7,000  to  ;^8,ooo  a  year.  On  the 
bankruptcy  of  Mr,  Charles  Baldwin,  Mr.  James 
Johnson  bought  the  Morning  Herald  raid 
Sta?idard,  plant  and  all,  for  ^^i 6,500,     The  new 


A   DISCIPLE   OF   CAXTON. 


63 


Flaot  Street.] 

proprietor   reduced  the  Standard  ixom  fourpence  | 
to  twopence,  and  made  it  a  morning  as  well  as  an 
vening  paper.      In  1858  he  reduced  it  to  a  penny 
only      The   result    was    a   great    success.      The 
annual  income  of  the  Standard  \s  now  Mr.  Grant 
says  "  much  exceeding  yearly  the  annual  mcomes  of 
most  of  the  ducal  dignities  of  the  land."  The  legend 
of  the  Duke  of  Newcastle  presentmg  Dr.  Oittara, 
in  1827,  with  ;£i,2oo  for  a  violent  article  against 
Roman  Catholic  claims,   has  been  denied  by  Dr. 
Gifflird's  son  in  the  Times.   The  Duke  of  Welhngton 
once  wrote  to  Dr.  Giffard  to  dictate  the  line  the 
Slandcird  and  Morning  Herald  v^tx^  to  adopt  on 
a  certain   question    during   the   agitation  on  the 
Maynooth  Bill ;  and  Dr.  Giffard  withdrew  his  opposi- 
tion to  please  Sir  Robert  Peel-a  concession  which 
injured  the  Standard.     Yet  in  the  following  year, 
when  Sir  Robert  Peel  brought  m  his  Bill  for  the 
aboUtion  of  the  corn  laws,  he  did  not  even  pay  Dr. 
Giffard   the  compliment  of  apprising  him   ot  his 
intention.      Such  is  official  gratitude  when  a  tool  is 

done  with.  ,    ,.    .  , 

Near  Shoe  Lane  lived  one  of  Caxton's  disciples. 
Wynkyn    de   Worde,   who   is   supposed  to  have 
been  one  of  Caxton's  assistants  or  workmen,  was  a 
native  of  Lorraine.     He  carried  on  a  prosperous 
career,  says  Dibdin,  from  1502  to  t534,  at  the  sign 
of  the  "Sun,"  in  the  parish  of  St.  Bride's,  Fleet  Street. 
In  upwards   of  four  hundred  works  published  by 
this  industrious  man  he  displayed  unprecedented 
skill,  elegance,  and  care,  and  his  Gothic  type  was 
considered  a  pattern  for  his  successors.  'Ihe  books 
that  came   from  his  press   were  chiefly  grammars, 
romances,  legends  of  the  saints,  and  fugitive  poems  ; 
he  never  ventured  on  an  English  New  Testament, 
nor  was  any  drama  published  bearing  his  name. 
His    great     patroness,    Margaret,    the    mother    of 
Henry  VIL,  seems  to  have  had  little,  taste  to  guide 
De  Worde  in  his  selection,  for  he  never  reprinted 
the  works  of  Chaucer  or  of  Gower;  nor  did  his 
humble  patron,  Robert  Thorney,  the  mercer,  lead 
him  in  a  better  direction.    De  Worde  filled  his  black- 
letter  books  with  rude  engravings,  which  he  used 
so  indiscriminately  that  the  same  cut  often  served 
for  books  of  a  totally  opposite  character.    By  some 
writers  De  Worde   is    considered  to  be  the   first 
introducer    of  Roman    letters   into   this  country; 
but  the  honour  of  that  mode  of  printing  is  now 
generally    claimed    by   Pynson,    a   contemporary. 
Amon-  other  works  published  by  De  Worde  were 
« The°Ship   of  Fools,"  that  great  satire  that  was 
so  loner   popular  in  England;   Mandeville's  lying 
"Travels;"    "La   Morte   d' Arthur"    (from  which 
Tennyson  has  derived  so  much  inspiration);  "  The 
Golden  Legend;"  and  those  curious  treatises  on 


-Hunting,  Hawking,  and  Fishing,"  partly  written 
by  .ohanna  Berners,  a  prioress  of  St.  Alban's.  In 
De  Worde's  "  Collection  of  Christmas  Carols  we 
find  the  words  of  that  fine  old  song,  still  sung 
a-'iually  at  Queen's  College,  Oxford,— 

«« The  boar's  head  in  hand  bring  I, 
With  garlands  gay  and  rosemary." 

De  Worde  also  published  some  writings  of  Erasmus. 
The  old  printer  was  buried  in  the  parish  church  of 
St  Bride's,  before  the  high  altar  of  St.  Kathermej 
and  he  left  land  to  the  parish  so  that  masses  should 
be  said  for  his  soul.    To  his  servants,  not  forgetting 
his    bookbinder,   Nowel,   in    Shoe  Lane,    he   be- 
queathed books.  De  Worde  lived  near  the  Conduit, 
a  little  west  of  Shoe  Lane.  This  conduit,  which  was 
begun  in  the  year  1439  ^Y  Sir  William  Estfielde, 
a    former    Lord    Mayor,   and   fimshed    in    1471, 
was,  according  to  Stow's  account,  a  stone  tower 
with   images  of  St.  Christopher  on  the   top   and 
angels,  who,  on  sweet-sounding  bells,  hourly  chimed 
a    hymn    with    hammers,    thus    anticipating    the 
wonders  of  St.  Dunstan's.   These  London  conduits 
were  great  resorts  for  the  apprentices,  whom  their 
masters  sent  with  big  leather  and  metal  jugs  to 
bring  home  the  daily  supply  of  water.     Here  these 
noisy,  quarrelsome  young  rascals  stayed  to  gossip, 
idle  and  fight.     At  the  coronation  of  Anne  Boleyn 
this'  conduit  was    newly    painted,    all    the    arms 
and    angels   refreshed,   and    "the   music    melodi- 
ously sounding."     Upon  the  conduit  was  raised  a 
tower  with  four  turrets,  and  in  every  turret  stood 
one  of  the  cardinal  virtues,   promising  never  to 
leave  the  queen,  while,  to  the  delight  and  wonder 
of  thirsty  citizens,   the  taps   ran  with  claret  and 
red  wine      Fleet  Street,  according  to  Mr.  Noble, 
was  supplied  with  water  in  the  Middle  Ages  from 
the  conduit   at  Marylebone   and    the   holy   wells 
of  St.  Clement's  and  St.  Bridget's.     The  tradition 
is  that  the  latter  well  was  drained  dry  for  the  supply 
of  the  coronation  banquet  of  George  IV.    As  early 
as  1358  the  inhabitants  of  Fleet  Street  complained 
of  aqueduct    pipes    bursting    and    flooding^  their 
cellars,  upon  which  they  were  allowed  the  privilege 
'  of  erecting  a  pent-house  over  an  aqueduct  oppo- 
site the  tavern  of  John  Walworth,  and  near  the 
house  of  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury.     In  1478  a  Fleet 
Street  wax-chandler,  having  been  detected  tapping 
the  conduit  pipes  for  his  own  use,  was  sentenced 
to  ride  through  the  City  with  a  vessel  shaped  like 
a  conduit  on  his  felonious  head,  and  the  City  crier 
walking  before  him  to  proclaim  his  offence. 

The  "Castle  Tavern,"  mentioned  as  early  as 
1432,  stood  at  the  south-west  corner  of  Shoe 
Lane.    Here  the  Clockmakers'  Company  held  their 


64 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Sti- 


meetings  before  the  Great  Fire,  and  in  1708  the 
"Castle"  possessed  the  largest  sign  in  London, 
Early  in  the  last  century,  says  Mr.  Noble,  its  pro- 
prietor was  Alderman  Sir  John  Task,  a  wine  mer- 
chant, who  died  in  1735  (George  IL),  worth,  it  was 
understood,-  a  quarter  of  a  million  of  money. 

The  Morning  Advertiser  (No.  127,  north)  was 
established  in  1794,  by  the  Society  of  Licensed 
Victuallers,  on  the  mutual  benefit  society  principle. 
Every  member  is  bound  to  take  in  the  paper  and 
is  entitled  to  a  share  in  its  profits.  Members  un- 
successful in  business  become  pensioners  on  the 
funds  of  the  institution.  The  paper,  which  took 
the  place  of  the  Daily  Advertiser,  and  was  the 
suggestion  of  Mr.  Grant,  a  master  printer,  was  an 
immediate  success.  Down  to  1S50  the  Morning 
Advertiser  circulated  chiefly  in  public-houses  and 
coffee-houses  at  the  rate  of  nearly  5,000  copies  -a 
day.  But  in  1850,  the  circulation  beginning  to 
decline,  the  committee  resolved  to  enlarge  the 
paper  to  the  size  of  the  Times,  and  Mr.  James  Grant 
was  appointed  editor.  The  profits  now  increased, 
and  the  paper  found  its  way  to  the  clubs.  The 
late  Lord  Brougham  and  Sir  David  Brewster  con- 
tributed to  the  Advertiser;  and  the  letters  signed 
"An  Englishman"  excited  much  interest.  This 
paper  has  always  been  Liberal.  Mr.  Grant  remained 
the  editor  for  twenty  years. 

No.  91  (south  side)  was  till  lately  the  office  of 
that  old-established  paper,  Bell's  Weekly  Afessenger. 
Mr.  Bell,  the  spirited  publisher  who  founded  this 
paper,  is  delightfully  sketched  by  Leigh  Hunt  in 
his  autobiography. 

"About  the  period  of  my  writing  the  above 
essays,"  he  says,  in  his  easy  manner,  "circumstances 
introduced  me  to  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Bell,  the 
proprietor  of  the  Weekly  Messenger.  In  his  house, 
in  the  Strand,  I  used  to  hear  of  politics  and 
dramatic  criticisms,  and  of  the  persons  who  wrote 
them.  Mr.  Bell  had  been  well  known  as  a  book- 
seller and  a  speculator  in  elegant  typography.  It 
is  to  him  the  public  are  indebted  for  the  small 
editions  of  the  poets  that  preceded  Cooke's. 
Bell  was,  upon  the  whole,  a  remarkable  person. 
He  was  a  plain  man,  with  a  red  face  and  a  nose 
exaggerated  by  intemperance ;  and  yet  there  was 
something  not  unpleasing  in-  his  countenance, 
especially  when  he  spoke.  He  had  sparkling. 
black  eyes,  a  good-natured  smile,  gentlemanly 
manners,  and  one  of  the  most  agreeable  voices  I 
ever  heard.  He  had  no  acquirements— perhaps 
not  even  grammar;  but  his  taste  in  putting  forth 
a  publication  and  getting  the  best  artists  to  adorn 
it  was  new  in  those  times,  and  may  be  admired  in 
any.      Unfortunately  for  Mr.  Bell,  the  Prince  of 


Wales,  to  whom  he  was  bookseller,  once  did  Iiim 
the  honour  to  partake  of  an  entertainment  or 
refreshment  (I  forget  which— most  probably  the 
latter)  at  his  house.  He  afterwards  became  a 
bankrupt.  After  his  bankruptcy  he  set  up  a  news- 
paper, which  became  profitable  to  everybody  but 
himself"* 

No.  93,  Fleet  Street  (south  side)  is  endeared  to 
us  by  its  connection  with  Charles  Lamb.  At  that 
number,  in  1823,  that  great  humorist,  the  king 
of  all  London  clerks  that  ever  were  or  will  l)e, 
published  his  "Elia,"  a  collection  of  essays  im- 
mortal as  the  language,  full  of  quaint  and  tender 
thoughts  and  gleaming  with  cross-lights  of  humour 
as  shot  silk  does  with  interchanging  colours.  In 
1 82 1,  when  the  first  editor  was  shot  in  a  duel,  the 
London  Magazine  fell  into  the  hands  of  Messrs. 
Taylor  &  Hessey,  of  No.  93  ;  but  they  published 
the  excellent  periodical  and  gave  their  "  magazine 
dnmers"  at  their  publishing  house  in  Waterloo 
Place. 

Mr.  John  Scott,  a  man  of  great  promise,  the 
editor   of  the   London   for   the    first   publishers- 
Messrs.   Baldwin,    Cradock,    &   Joy— met   with   a 
very  tragic  death  in  1821.     The  duel  in  which  lie 
fell  arose  from  a  quarrel  between  the  men  on  the 
London  and  the  clever  but  bitter  and  unscrupulous 
writers  in  Blackwood,  started  in   181 7.     Lockhart, 
who  had  cruelly  maligned  Leigh  Hunt  and  his  set 
(the  "  Cockney  School,"  as  the  Scotch  Tories  chose 
to  call  them),  was  sharply  attacked  in  the  London. 
Fiery  and  vindictive  Lockhart  flew  at  once  up  to 
town,  and  angrily  demanded  from  Mr.  Scott,  the 
editor,  an  explanation,  an  apology,  or  a  meeting. 
Mr.  Scott  declined  giving  an  apology  unless  Mr, 
Lockhart  would  first  deny  that  he  was  editor  of 
Blackwood.     Lockhart  refused  to  give  this  denial, 
and   retorted   by   expressing   a  mean   opinion   of 
Mr.  Scott's   courage.      Lockhart   and   Scott   both 
printed  contradictory  versions  of  the  quarrel,  which 
worked  up  till   at   last  Mr.  Christie,  a  friend  of 
Lockhart's,    challenged  Scott;   and    they  met   at 
Chalk  Farm  by  moonlight  on  February  i6th,  at  nine 
o'clock   at   night,  attended  by  their  seconds  and 
surgeons,  in  the  old  business-like,  bloodthirsty  waj--. 
The  first  time  Mr.  Christie  did  not  fire  at  Mr.  Scott, 
a  fact  of  which  Mr.  Patmore,  the  author,  Scott's 
second,  with  most  blamable  indiscretion,  did  not 
inform  his  principal.     At  the  second  fire  Christie's 
ball  struck  Scott  just  above  the  right  hip,  and  he 

*  An  intelligent  compositor  (Mr.  J,  P.  S.  Bicknell),  who 
has  been  a  noter  of  curious  passages  in  his  time,  informs  me 
that  Bell  was  the  first  printer  who  confined  the  small  letter 
"  s  "  to  its  present  shape,  and  rejected  altogether  the  older 
form"f." 


Fleet  Street.] 


"JANUS  WEATHERCOCK." 


^5 


fell.  He  lingered  till  the  27th.  It  was  said  at  the 
time  that  Hazlitt,  perhaps  unintentionally,  had 
driven  Scott  to  fight  by  indirect  taunts.  *'  I  don't 
pretend,"  Hazlitt  is  reported  to  have  said,  "  to  hold 
the  principles  of  honour  which  you  hold.  I  would 
neither  give  nor  accept  a  challenge.  You  hold  the 
opinions  of  the  world ;  with  you  it  is  different. 
As  for  me,  it  would  be  nothing.  I  do  not  think 
as  you  and  the  world  think,"  and  so  on.  Poor 
Scott,  not  yet  forty,  had  married  the  pretty  daughter 
of  Colnaghi,  the  print-seller  in  Pall  Mall,  and  left 
two  children. 

For  the  five  years  it  lasted,  perhaps  no  magazine 
— not  even  the  mighty  Maga  itself — ever  drew 
talent  towards  it  with  such  magnetic  attraction. 
In  Mr.  Barry  Cornwall's  delightful  memoir  of  his 
old  friend  Lamb,  written  when  the  writer  was  in 
his  seventy-third  year,  he  has  summarised  the 
writers  on  the  London,  and  shown  how  deep  and 
varied  was  the  intellect  brought  to  bear  on  its 
ixoduction.  First  of  all  he  mentions  poor  Scott, 
a  shrewd,  critical,  rather  hasty  man,  who  wrote 
essays  on  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Wordsworth,  Godwin, 
Byron,  Keats,  Shelley,  Leigh  Hunt,  and  Hazlitt, 
his  wonderful  contemporaries,  in  a  fruitful  age. 
Hazlitt,  glowing  and  capricious,  produced  the 
twelve  essays  of  his  "  Table  Talk,"  many  dramatic 
articles,  and  papers  on  Beckford's  Fonthill,  the 
Angerstein  pictures,  and  the  Elgin  marbles — pages 
wealthy  with  thought.  Lamb  contributed  in  three 
years  all  the  matchless  essays  of  "Elia."  Mr. 
Thomas  Carlyle,  then  only  a  promising  young 
Scotch  philosopher,  wrote  several  articles  on  the 
"  Life  and  Writings  of  Schiller."  Mr.  de  Quincey, 
that  subtle  thinker  and  bitter  Tory,  contributed 
his  wonderful  "Confessions  of  an  Opium-Eater." 
That  learned  and  amiable  man,  the  Rev.  H.  F. 
Cary,  the  translator  of  Dante,  wrote  several  in- 
teresting notices  of  early  French  poets.  Allan 
Cunningham,  the  vigorous  Scottish  bard,  sent  the 
romantic  "  Tales  of  Lyddal  Cross  "  and  a  series  of 
papers  styled  "  Traditional  Literature."  Mr.  John 
Poole — recently  deceased,  1872 — (the  author  of 
Paul  Fry  and  that  humorous  novel,  *'  Little  Ped- 
lington,"  which  is  supposed  to  have  furnished 
Mr.  Charles  Dickens  with  some  suggestions  for 
"  Pickwick ")  wrote  burlesque  imitations  of  con- 
temporaneous dramatic  writers — Morton,  Dibdin, 
Reynolds,  Moncrieff,  &c.  Mr.  J.  H.  Reynolds 
wrote,  under  the  name  of  Henry  Herbert,  notices 
of  contemporaneous  events,  such  as  a  scene  at 
the  Cockpit,  the  trial  of  Thurtell  (a  very  powerful 
article),  &c.  That  delightful  punster  and  humorist, 
with  pen  or  pencil,  Tom  Hood,  sent  to  the  London 
his  first  poems  of  any  ambition  or  length — '*  Lycus 


the  Centaur,"  and  "The  Two  Peacocks  of  Bed- 
font."  Keats,  "that  sleepless  soul  that  perished 
in  its  pride,"  and  Montgomery,  both  contributed 
poems.  Sir  John  Bowring,  the  accomplished 
linguist,  wrote  on  Spanish  poetry.  Mr.  Henry 
Southern,  the  editor  of  that  excellent  work  the 
Retrospective  Reviczo,  contributed  "The  Conversa- 
tions of  Lord  Byron."  Mr.  Walter  Savage  Landor, 
that  very  original  and  eccentric  thinker,  published  in 
the  extraordinary  magazine  one  of  his  admirable 
"  Imaginary  Conversations."  Mr.  Julius  (afterwards 
Archdeacon)  Hare  reviewed  the  robust  works  of 
Landor.  Mr.  Elton  contributed  graceful  translations 
from  Catullus,  Propertius,  &c.  Even  among  the 
lesser  contributors  there  were  very  eminent  writers, 
not  forgetting  Barry  Cornwall,  Hartley  Coleridge, 
John  Clare,  the  Northamptonshire  peasant  poet;  and 
Bernard  Barton,  the  Quaker  poet.  Nor  must  we 
omit  that  strange  contrast  to  these  pure-hearted 
and  wise  men,  "  Janus  Weathercock  "  (Wainwright), 
the  polished  villain  who  murdered  his  young  niece 
and  most  probably  several  other  friends  and  rela- 
tions, for  the  money  insured  upon  their  lives. 
This  gay  and  evil  being,  by  no  means  a  dull  writer 
upon  art  and  the  drama,  was  much  liked  by  Lamb 
and  the  Russell  Street  set.  The  news  of  his  cold- 
blooded crimes  (transpiring  in  1837)  seem  to  have 
struck  a  deep  horror  among  all  the  scoundrel's 
fashionable  associates.  Although  when  arrested  in 
France  it  was  discovered  that  Wainwright  habitually 
carried  strychnine  about  with  him,  he  was  only 
tried  for  forgery,  and  for  that  offence  transported 
for  hfe. 

A  fine  old  citizen  of  the  last  century,  Joseph 
Brasbridge,  who  published  his  memoirs,  kept  a 
silversmith's  shop  at  No.  98,  several  doors  from 
Alderman  Waithman's.  At  one  time  Brasbridge 
confesses  he  divided  his  time  between  the  tavern 
club,  the  card  party,  the  hunt,  and  the  fight,  and 
left  his  shop  to  be  looked  after  by  others,  whilst 
he  decided  on  the  respective  merits  of  Humphries 
and  Mendoza,  Cribb  and  Big  Ben.  Among 
Brasbridge's  early  customers  were  the  Duke  of 
Marlborough,  the  Duke  of  Argyle,  and  other  men 
of  rank,  and  he  glories  in  having  once  paid  an 
elaborate  compliment  to  Lady  Hamilton.  The 
most  curious  story  in  Brasbridge's  "  Fruits  of 
Experience"  is  the  following,  various  versions  of 
which  have  been  paraphrased  by  modern  writers. 
A  surgeon  in  Gough  Square  had  purchased  for  dis- 
section the  body  of  a  man  who  had  been  hanged 
at  Tyburn.  The  servant  girl,  wishing  to  look  at 
the  corpse,  stole  upstairs  in  the  doctor's  absence, 
and,  to  her  horror,  found  the  body  sitting  up  on  the 
board,  wondering  where  it  was.     The  girl  almost 


66 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street. 


threw  herself  down  the  stairs  in  her  fright.  The 
surgeon,  on  learning  of  the  resuscitation  of  his 
subject,  humanely  concealed  the  man  in  the  house 
till  he  could  fit  him  out  for  America.  The  fellow 
proved  as  clever  and  industrious  as  he  was  grateful, 
and  having  amassed  a  fortune,  he  eventually  left 
it  all  to  his  benefactor.     The  sequel  is  still  more 


the  Strand,  then  came  forward,  and  deposed  that  his 
wife  and  her  mother,  he  remembered,  used  to  visit 
the  surgeon  in  Gough  Square.  On  inquiry  Mrs. 
Willcocks  was  proved  the  next  of  kin,  and  the  base 
shoemaker  returned  to  his  last.  The  lucky  Mr. 
Willcocks  was  the  good-natured  bookseller  who 
lent  Johnson  and  Garrick,  when  they  fust  came  up 


ALDERMAN  WAITHMAN,    FROM   AN   AUTHENTIC   PORTRAIT  {sce />agC  6S). 


curious.  The  surgeon  dying  some  years  after,  his 
heirs  were  advertised  for.  A  shoemaker  at  Isling- 
ton eventually  established  a  claim  and  inherited 
the  money.  Mean  in  prosperity,  the  ci-deva7it 
shoemaker  then  refused  to  pay  the  lawyer's  bill, 
and,  moreover,  called  him  a  rogue.  The  enraged 
lawyer  replied,  "  I  have  put  you  into  possession  of 
this  property  by  my  exertions,  now  I  will  spend 
;^ioo  out  of  my  own  pocket  to  take  it  away  again, 
for  you  are  not  deserving  of  it."  The  lawyer 
accordingly  advertised  again  for  the  surgeon's 
nearest   of  kin;   Mr.    Willcocks,   a  bookseller   in 


to  London  to  seek  their  fortunes,  ;^5  on  their  joint 
note. 

Nos.  103  (now  the  Sunday  Tunes  office)  and  104 
were  the  shop  of  that  bustling  politician  Alderman 
Waithman;  and  to  his  memory  was  erected  the 
obelisk  on  the  site  of  his  first  shop,  formerly  the 
north-west  end  of  Fleet  Market.  Waithman, 
according  to  Mr.  Timbs,  had  a  genius  for  the  stage, 
and  especially  shone  as  Macbeth.  He  was  uncle  to 
John  Reeve,  the  comic  actor.  Cobbett,  who  hated 
Waithman,  has  left  a  portrait  of  the  alderman, 
written  in  his  usual  racy  English.     "  Among  these 


Fleet  Street.] 


ALDERMAN  WAITHMAN. 


67 


persons,"  he  says,  talking  of  the  Princess  CaroHne 
agitation,  in  18 13,  "there  was  a  common  council- 
man named  Robert  Waithman,  a  man  who  for 
many  years  had  taken  a  conspicuous  part  in  the 
poHtics  of  the  City ;  a  man  not  destitute  of  the 
powers  of  utterance,  and  a  man  of  sound  prin- 
ciples also.  But  a  man  so  enveloped,  so  com- 
pletely swallowed  up  by  self-conceit,  who,  though 
perfectly  illiterate,  though  unable  to  give  to  three 
consecutive  sentences  a  grammatical  construction, 


talking  about  rotten  boroughs  and  parliamentary 
reform.  But  all  in  vain.  Then  rose  cries  of 
'  No,  no!  the  address — the  address  1'  which  appear 
to  have  stung  him  to  the  quick.  His  face,  which 
was  none  of  the  whitest,  assumed  a  ten  times 
darker  die.  His  look  was  furious,  while  he  uttered 
the  words,  *  I  am  sorry  tha<t  my  well-weighed 
opinions  are  in  opposition  to  the  general  sentiment 
so  hastily  adopted  ;  but  I  hope  the  Livery  Avill 
consider  the  necessity  of  preserving  its  character 


GROUP  AT  hardham's  TOBACCO  SHOP  {see  page  69). 


seemed  to  look  uix)n  himself  as  the  first  orator,  tho 
first  writer,  and  the  first  statesman  of  the  whole 
world.  He  had  long  been  the  cock  of  the  Demo- 
cratic party  in  the  City ;  he  was  a  great  speech- 
maker  ;  could  make  very  free  with  facts,  and  when 
it  suited  his  purpose  could  resort  to  as  foul  play  as 
most  men."  According  to  Cobbett,  who  grows 
more  than  usually  virulent  on  the  occasion,  Waith- 
man, vexed  that  Alderman  Wood  had  been  the 
first  to  propose  an  address  of  condolence  to  the 
Princess  at  the  Common  Council,  opposed  rt, 
and  was  defeated.  As  Cobbett  says,  "  He  then 
checked  himself,  endeavoured  to  recover  his 
ground,  floundered  about,  got  some  applause  by 


for  purity  and  wisdom.' "  On  the  appointed  day 
the  Princess  was  presented  with  the  address,  to 
the  delight  of  the  more  zealous  Radicals.  The 
procession  of  more  than  one  hundred  carriages 
came  back  past  Carlton  House  on  their  return 
from  Kensington,  the  people  groaning  and  hissing 
to  torment  the  Regent. 

Brasbridge,  the  Tory  silversmith  of  Fleet  Street, 
writes  very  contemptuously  in  his  autobiography 
of  Waithman.  Sneering  at  his  boast  of  reading, 
he  says  :  **  I  own  my  curiosity  was  a  little  excited 
to  know  when  and  where  he  began  his  studies. 
It  could  not  be  in  his  shop  in  Fleet  Market,  for 
there  he  was  too  busily  employed  in  attending  on 


68 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street. 


the  fishwomen  and  other  ladies  connected  with 
the  business  of  the  market.  Nor  could  it  be  at 
the  comer  of  Fleet  Street,  where  he  was  always 
no  less  assiduously  engaged  in  ticketing  his  super- 
super  calicoes  at  t\vo  and  two  pence,  and  cutting 
them  off  for  two  and  twenty  pence."  According  to 
Brasbridge,  Waithman  made  his  first  speech  in  1792, 
in  Founder's  Hall,  Lothbury,  "  called  by  some  at 
that  time  the  cauldron  of  sedition."  Waithman 
was  Lord  Mayor  in  1823-24,  and  Avas  returned  to 
Parliament  five  times  for  the  City.  The  portrait  of 
Waithman  on  page  66,  and  the  view  of  his  shop, 
page  61,  are  taken  from  pictures  in  Mr.  Gardiner's 
magnificent  collection. 

A  short  biography  of  this  civic  orator  will  not  be 
uninteresting : — Robert  AVaithman  was  born  of 
humble  parentage,  at  Wrexham,  in  North  Wales. 
Becoming  an  orphan  when  only  four  months  old,  he 
was  placed  at  the  school  of  a  Mr.  Moore  by  his 
uncl6,  on  whose  death,  about  1778,  he  obtained  a 
situation  at  Reading,  whence  he  proceeded  to 
London,  and  entered  into  the  service  of  a  respect- 
able linen-draper,  with  whom  he  continued  till  he 
became  of  age.  He  then  entered  into  business  at 
the  south  end  of  Fleet  Market,  whence,  some  years 
afterwards,  he  removed  to  tlie  corner  of  New  Bridge 
Street.  He  appears  to  have  commenced  his  poli- 
tical career  about  1792,  at  the  oratorical  displays 
made  in  admiration  and  imitation  of  the  proceed- 
ings of  the  French  revolutionists,  at  flounder's 
Hall,  in  Lothbury.  In  1794  he  brought  forward  a 
series  of  resolutions,  at  a  common  hall,  animad- 
verting upon  the  war  with  revolutionised  France, 
and  enforcing  the  necessity  of  a  reform  in  Parlia- 
ment. In  1796  he  was  first  elected  a  member  of 
the  Common  Council  for  the  Ward  of  Farringdon 
Without,  and  became  a  very  frequent  speaker  in 
that  public  body.  It  was  supposed  that  Mr.  Fox 
intended  to  have  rewarded  his  political  exertions 
by  the  place  of  Receiver-General  of  the  Land  Tax. 
In  18 1 8,  after  having  been  defeated  on  several  pre- 
vious occasions,  he  was  elected  as  one  of  the  repre- 
sentatives in  Parliament  of  the  City  of  London, 
defeating  the  old  member.  Sir  William  Curtis. 

Very  shortly  after,  on  the  4th  of  August,  he  was 
elected  Alderman  of  his  ward,  on  the  death  of 
Sir  Charles  Price,  Bart.  On  the  25  th  of  January, 
181 9,  he  made  his  maiden  speech  in  Parliament, 
on  the  presentation  of  a  petition  praying  for  a 
revision  of  the  criminal  code,  the  existing  state  of 
which  he  severely  censured.  At  the  ensuing 
election  of  1820  the  friends  of  Sir  William  Curtis 
turned  the  tables  upon  him,  Waithman  being  de- 
feated. In  this  year,  however,  he  attained  the 
hcnour  cf  the  shrievalty;  and  in  October,  1823,  he 


was  chosen  Lord  Mayor.  In  1826  he  stood  another 
contest  for  the  City,  with  better  success.  In  1S30, 
1 83 1,  and  1832  he  obtained  his  re-election  with 
difficulty;  but  in  1831  he  suffered  a  severe  disap- 
pointment in  losing  the  chamberlainship,  in  the 
competition  for  which  Sir  James  Shaw  obtained  a 
large  majority  of  votes. 

We  subjoin  the  remarks  made  on  his  death  by 
the  editor  of  the  Times  newspaper : — "  The  magis- 
tracy of  London  has  been  deprived  of  one  of  its 
most  respectable  members,  and  the  City  of  one  of 
its  most  upright  representatives.  Everybody  knows 
that  Mr.  Alderman  Waithman  has  filled  a  large 
space  in  City  politics ;  and  most  people  who  were 
acquainted  with  him  will  be  ready  to  admit  that, 
had  his  early  education  been  better  directed,  or  his 
early  circumstances  more  favourable  to  his  am- 
bition, he  might  have  become  an  imjoortant  man  in 
a  wider  and  higher  sphere.  His  natural  parts,  his 
political  integrity,  his  consistency  of  conduct,  and 
tlie  energy  and  perseverance  with  which  he  per- 
formed his  duties,  placed  him  far  above  the  com- 
mon run  of  persons  whose  reputation  is  gained  by 
their  oratorical  displays  at  hieetings  of  the  Common 
Council.  In  looking  back  at  City  proceedings  for 
the  last  thirty-five  or  forty  years,  we  find  him  always 
rising  above  his  rivals  as  the  steady  and  consistent 
advocate  of  the  rights  of  his  countrymen  and  the 
liberties   and  privileges  of  his  fellow-citizens." 

There  is  a  curious  story  told  of  the  Fleet  Street 
crossing,  opposite  Waithman's  corner.  It  was 
swept  for  years  by  an  old  black  man  named  Charles 
M'Ghee,  whose  father  had  died  in  Jamaica  at  the 
age  of  108.  According  to  Mr.  Noble,  when  he  laid 
down  his  broom  he  sold  his  professional  right  for 
;^i,ooo  (;^ioo?).  Retiring  into  private  life  much 
respected,  he  was  ahvays  to  be  seen  on  Sundays  at 
Rowland  Hill's  chapel.  When  in  his  seventy 
tiiird  year  his  portrait  was  taken  and  hung  in  the 
parlour  of  the  "Twelve  Bells,''  Bride  Lane.  To 
Miss  Waithman,  who  used  to  send  him  out  soup 
and  bread,  he  is,  untruly,  said  to  have  left  ;!^7,ooo. 

Mr.  Diprose,  in  his  "  History  of  St.  Clement,"  tells 
us  more  of  this  black  sweeper.  "  Brutus  Billy,"  or 
"  Tim-buc-too,"  as  he  was  generally  called,  lived  in 
a  passage  leading  from  Stanhope  Street  into  Drury 
Lane.  He  was  a  short,  thick-set  man,  with  his 
white-grey  hair  carefully  brushed  up  into  a  toupee, 
the  fashion  of  his  youth.  He  was  found  in  his 
shop,  as  he  called  his  crossing,  in  all  weathers, 
and  was  invariably  civil.  At  night,  after  he  had  shut 
up  shop  (swept  mud  over  his  crossing),  he  carried 
round  a  basket  of  nuts  and  fruit  to  places  of  public 
entertainment,  so  that  in  time  he  laid  by  a  con- 
siderable amount   of   money.      Brutus   Billy  was 


Fleet  Street.] 


HARDHAM'S   "THIRTY-SEVEN." 


brimful  of  story  and  anecdote.  He  died  in  Chapel 
Court  in  1854,  in  his  eighty-seventh  year.  This 
worthy  man  was  perhaps  the  model  for  Billy 
Waters,  the  negro  beggar  in  Tom  and  Jerry,  who 
is  so  indignant  at  the  beggars'  supper  on  seeing 
"  a  turkey  without  sassenges." 

In   Garrick's    time    John    Hardham,    the   well- 
known   tobacconist,  opened   a   shop  at  No.   106. 
There,  at  the  sign  of  the  "  Red  Lion,"  Hardham's 
Highlander    kept    steady    guard    at    a    doonvay 
thxrough  which  half  the  celebrities  of  the  day  made 
their  exits  and  entrances.    His  celebrated  "  No.  37  " 
snuff  was  said,  like  the  French  millefleur,  to  be 
composed  of  a  great  number  of  ingredients,  and 
Garrick  in  his  kind  way  helped  it  into  fashion  by 
mentioning  it  favourably  on  the  stage.     Hardham, 
a  native  of  Chichester,   began   life   as  a  servant' 
wrote    a    comedy,    acted,    and    at    last    became 
Garrick's    "  numberer,"  having   a  general's    quick 
coup  d'(Bil  at  gauging  an  audience,  and  so  checking 
the  money-takers,    Garrick  once  became  his  security 
for  a   hundred  pounds,  but  eventually  Hardham 
grew  rich,  and  died  in  1772,  bequeathing  ^22,289 
to  Chichester,  10  guineas  to  Garrick,  and  merely 
setting  apart  ;^io  for  his  funeral,  only  vain  fools, 
as  he  said,   spending   more.      We  can  fancy  the 
great  actors   of  that   day   seated   on    Hardham's 
tobacco-chests  discussing  the  drollery  of  Foote  or 
the  vivacity  of  Clive. 

"  It  has  long  been  a  source  of  inquiry,"  says  a 
writer  in  the  City  Press,  "  whence  the  origin  of  the 
cognomen,  'No.  37,'  to  the  celebrated  snuff  com- 
pounded still  under  the  name  of  John  Hardham, 
in  Fleet  Street.      There  is  a  tradition  that  Lord 
Townsend,  on  being  applied  to  by  Hardham,  whom 
he   patronised,  to   name  the  snuff,  suggested  the 
cabalistic  luimber  of  37,  it  being  the  exact  number 
of  a  majority  obtained  in  some  proceedings  in  the 
Irish  Parliament  during  the  time  he  was  Lord  Lieu- 
tenant there,  and  which  was  considered  a  triumph 
for  his  Government.     The  dates,  however,  do  not 
serve  this  theory,  as  Lord  Townsend  was  not  viceroy 
till  the  years  1767-72,  when  the  snuff  must  have 
been  well  established  in  public  fame  and  Hardham 
in  the  last  years  of  his  life.     It  has  already  been 
printed  elsewhere  that,  on  the  famed  snuff  coming 
out  in  the  first  instance,  David  Garrick,  hearing  of 
it,  called  in  Fleet  Street,  as  he  was  wont  frequently 
to  do,  and  offered  to  bring  it  under  the  public  notice 
in  the  most  effectual  manner,   by  introducing  an 
mcident  in  a  new  comedy  then  about  to  be  pro- 
duced by  him,  where  he  would,  in  his  part  in  the 
play,  offer  another  character  a  pinch  of  snuff,  who 
would    extol    its    excellence,    whereupon    Garrick 
arranged  to  continue  the  conversation  by  naming 


J9_ 

the  snuff  as  the  renowned  '37  of  John  Hardham  ' 
But  the  enigma,  even  now,  is  not  solved ;  so  we 
will,  for  what  it  may  be  worth,  venture  our  own 
explanation.  It  is  well  known  that  in  most  of  the 
celebrated  snuffs  before  the  public  a  great  variety 
of  qualities  and  descriptions  of  tobacco,  and  of 
various  ages,  are  introduced.  Hardham,  like  the 
rest,  never  told  his  secret  how  the  snuff  was  made, 
but  left  It  as  a  heritage  to  his  successors.  It  is  very 
probable,  therefore,  that  the  mystic  figures,  37,  we 
have  quoted  represented  the  number  of  qualities, 
growths,  and  description  of  the  'fragrant  weed' 
mtroduced  by  him  into  his  snuff,  and  may  be  re- 
garded as  a  sort  of  appellative  rebus,  or  conceit 
founded  thereon."*  ' 

But  Hardham  occupied  himself  in  other  ways 
than  in  the  making  of  snuff  and  of  money— for  the 
Chichester  youth   had    now  grown  wealthy— and 
in  extending  his  circle  of  acquaintances  amongst 
dramatists  and  players;   he   was   abundantly  dis- 
tinguished for  Christian  charity,  for,  in  the  language 
of  a  contemporary  writer,  we  find  that  "  his  deeds  in 
that  respect  were  extensive,"  and  his  bounty  "  was 
conveyed  to  many  of  the  objects  of  it  in  the  most 
delicate  manner."    From  the  same  authority  we  find 
that  Hardham  once  failed  in  business  (we  presume, 
as  a  lapidary)  more  creditably  than  he  could  have 
made    a  fortune  by  it.      This  spirit  of  integrity, 
which  remained  a  remarkable  feature  in  his  cha- 
racter  throughout  life,    induced   him  to  be  often 
resorted  to  by  his  wealthy  patrons  as  trustee  for 
the  payment  of  their  bounties  to  deserving  objects ; 
in   many   cases   the   patrons   died  before   the   re- 
I  cipients   of   their   relief.      With    Hardham,   hov/- 
ever,  this  made  no  difference ;  the  annuities  once 
granted,  although  stopped  by  the  decease  of  the 
donors,  were  paid  ever  after  by  Hardham  so  long 
as  he  lived ;  and  his  delicacy  of  feeling  induced 
him  even  to  persuade  the  recipients  into  the  belief 
that  they  were  still  derived  from  the  same  source. 

No.  102  (south)  was  opened  as  a  shop,  in  17 19, 
by  one  Lockyer,  who  called  it  "  Mount  Pleasant." 
It  then  became  a  "  saloop-house,"  where  the  poor 
purchased  a  beverage  made  out  of  sassafras  chips. 
The  proprietor,  who  began  life,  as  Mr.  Noble 
says,  with  halfa-crown,  died  in  March,  1739,  Avorth 
;^i,ooo.  Thomas  Read  was  a  later  tenant.  Charles 
Lamb  mentions  "  saloop  "  in  one  of  his  essays,  and 
says,  "  Palates  otherwise  not  uninstructed  in  diet- 
etical  elegancies  sup  it  up  with  avidity."  Chimney- 
sweeps, beloved  by  Lamb,  approved  it,  and  eventu- 
ally stalls  were  set  up  in  the  streets,  as  at  present 
to  reach  even  humbler  customers. 


*  The  real  fact  is,  the  famous  snuff  was  merely  called  frorn 
the  number  of  the  drawer  that  held  it. 


70 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Fket  Street  Tribdtnries. 


CHAPTER    VI. 
FLEET  STREET  (NORTHERN  TRIBUTARIES  -SHOE  LANE  AND  BELL  YARD). 

/■      V    V  Tir.UTnrlvMirv-Drunkcn  John  Sly-Garth's  Paticats-Club  removed  to  «arn  Elms-Sleek  at  the 

^^^^.V Ipitt^otu^^^^^^^^^  "--^  -  »^-'^  Spongl„g-hou.c-rope  . 

Bell  Yard— Minor  Celebrities— Apollo  Court. 


Opposite  Child's  Bank,  and  almost  within  sound 
of  the  jingle  of  its  gold,  once  stood  Shire  Lane, 
afterwards  known  as  Ix)wer  Serle's  Place.   It  latterly 
became  a  dingy,  disreputable  defile,  where  lawyers' 
clerks  and  the  hangers-on  of  the  law-courts  were 
.  often  allured  and  sometimes  robbed ;  yet  it  had 
been  in  its  day  a  place  of  great  repute.    In  this  lane 
the  Kit-Kat,  the  great  club  of  Queen  Anne's  reign, 
held  its  sittings,  at  the  "Cat  and  Fiddle,"  the  shop  of 
a  pastrycook  named  Christopher  Kat    The  house, 
according  to  local  antiquaries,  afterwards  became  the 
"Trumpet,"  a  tavern  mentioned  by  Steele  in  the 
Ta^/er,  and  latterly  known  as  the  *'  Duke  of  York." 
The  Kit-Kats  were  originally  Whig  patriots,  who,  at 
the  end  of  Khig  William's  reign,  met  in  this  out-of- 
the-way  place  to  devise  measures  to  secure  the 
Protestant  succession  and  keep  out  the  pestilent 
Stuarts.     Latterly  they  assembled  for  simple  enjoy- 
ment; and  there  have  been  grave  disputes  as  to 
whether  the  club  took  its  name  from  the  punning 
sign,  tlie  "  Cat  and  Kit,"  or  from  the  favourite  pies 
which  Christopher  Kat  had  christened  ;  and  as  this 
question  will  probably  last  the  antiquaries  another 
two  centuries,  we  leave  it  alone.   According  to  some 
verses  by  Arbuthnot,  the  chosen  friend  of  Pope  and 
Swift,  the  question  was  mooted  even  in  his  time,  as 
if  the  very  founders  of  the  club  had   forgotten. 
Some  think  that  the  club  really  began  with  a  weekly 
dinner  given  by  Jacob  Tonson,  the  great  book- 
seller of  Gray's  Inn  Lane,  to  his  chief  authors  and 
patrons.     This  Tonson,  one  of  the  patriarchs  of 
English    booksellers,    who    published    Dryden's 
"  Virgil,"  purchased  a  share  of  Milton's  works,  and 
first  made  Shakespeare's  works  cheap  enough  to  be 
accessible  to  the  many,  was  secretary  to  the  club 
from  the  commencement.     An  average  of  thirty- 
nine  poets,  wits,  noblemen,  and  gentlemen  formed 
the  staple  of  the  association.     The  noblemen  were 
perhaps  rather  too  numerous  for   that  republican 
equality  that  should  prevail  in  the  best  intellectual 
society ;  yet  above  all  the  dukes  shine  out  Steele 
and  Addison,  the  two  great  luminaries  of  the  club. 
Among   the  Kit-Kat  dukes  was   the   great  Marl- 
borough; among  the  earls  the  poetic  Dorset,  the 
patron  of  Dryden  and  Prior ;  among  the  lords  the 
wise  Halifax;  among  the  baronets  bluif  Sir  Robert 
Walpole.      Of   the    poets    and  wits    there  were 


Congreve,  the  most  courtly  of  dramatists ;  Garth, 
the   poetical  physician— "  well-natured  Garth,"  as 
Pope  somewhat  awkwardly  calls  him ;  and  Vanbrugh, 
the  writer  of  admirable  comedies.     Dryden  could 
hardly  have  seriously  belonged  to  a  Whig  club ; 
Pope  was  inadmissible  as  a  Catholic,  and  Prior  as 
a  renegade.   Latterly  objectionable  men  pushed  in, 
worst  of  all.  Lord  Mohun,  a  disreputable  debauchee 
and  duellist,  afterwards  run  through  by  the  Duke 
of  Hamilton   in  Hyde   Park,   the    duke  himself 
perishing  in  the  encounter.     When  Mohun,  in  a 
drunken  pet,  broke  a  gilded  emblem  off  a  club 
chair,  respectable  old  Tonson  predicted  the  down- 
fall of  the  society,  and  said  with  a  sigh,  "  The  man 
who  would  do  that  would  cut  a  man's  throat."     Sir 
Godfrey  Kneller,  the  great  Court  painter  of  the 
reigns  of  William  and  Anne,  was  a  member ;  and 
he  painted  for  his  friend  Tonson  the  portraits  of 
forty-two    gentlemen    of   the    Kit-Kat,    including 
Dryden,  who  died  a  year   after  it  started.     The 
forty-two  portraits,  painted  three-quarter  size  (hence 
called  Kit-Kat),  to  suit  the  walls  of  Tonson's  villa 
at  Barn  Elms,  still  exist,  and  are  treasured  by  Mr. 
R.  W.  Baker,  a  representative  of  the  Tonson  fomily, 
at  Hertingfordbury,  in  Hertfordshire.    Among  the 
lesser   men   of  this  distinguished   club  we   must 
include  Pope's  friends,  the  "knowing  Walsh"  and 
"  Granville  the  polite." 

Aa  at  the   "Devil,"  "the  tribe  of  Ben"  must 
have  often  discussed  the  downfall  of  Lord  Bacon, 
the  poisoning  of  Overbury,  the  war  in  the  Pala- 
tinate,  and   the   murder  of  Buckingham;   so    in 
Shire  Lane,  opposite,  the  talk  must  have  run  on 
Marlborough's   victories,   Jacobite   plots,  and  the 
South-Sea  Bubble ;  Addison  must  have  discussed 
Swift,  and  Steele  condemned  the  littleness  of  Pope. 
It  was  the  custom  of  this  aristocratic  club  every  year 
to  elect  some  reigning  beauty  as  a  toast.     To  the 
queen  of  the  year  the  gallant    members    wrote 
epigrammatic  verses,   which  were   etched  with  a 
diamond  on  the  club   glasses.      The  most  cele- 
brated of  these  toasts  were  the  four  daughters  of 
the  Duke  of  Marlborough— Lady  Godolphin,  Lady 
Sunderland    (generally    known     as     "the    Little 
Whig"),  Lady  Bridgewater,  and  Lady  Monthermer. 
Swift's  friend,  Mrs.  Long,  was   another;   and   so 
was  a  niece  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton.     The  verses 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


THE   LITTLE  TOAST. 


71 


seem  flat  and  dead  now,  like  flowers  found  be- 
tween tlie  leaves  of  an  old  book  -,  but  in  their 
time  no  doubt  they  had  their  special  bloom  and 
fragrance.  The  most  tolerable  are  those  written 
by  Lord  Halifax  on  "the  Litde  Whig"  :— 

*'  All  nature's  charms  in  Sunderland  appear, 
Bright  as  her  eyes  and  as  her  reason  clear  ; 
Yet  still  their  force,  to  man  not  safely  known, 
Seems  undiscovered  to  herself  alone." 

Yet  how  poor  after  all  is  this  laboured  compli- 
ment in  comparison  to  a  sentence  of  Steele's  on 
some  lady  of  rank  whose  virtues  he  honoured, — 
"that  even  to  have  known  her  was  in  itself  a 
liberal  education." 

But  few  stories  connected  with  the  Kit-Kat 
meetings  are  to  be  dug  out  of  books,  though  no 
doubt  many  snatches  of  the  best  conversation 
arj  embalmed  in  the  Spectator  and  the  Tatler. 
Yet  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu,  whom  Pope 
first  admired  and  then  reviled,  tells  one  pleasant 
incident  of  her  childhood  that  connects  her  with 
the  great  club. 

One  evening  when  toasts  were  being  chosen, 
her  father,  Evelyn  Pierpoint,  Duke  of  Kingston, 
took  it  into  his  head  to  nominate  Lady  Mary,  then 
a  child  only  eight  years  of  age.  She  was  prettier, 
he  vowed,  than  any  beauty  on  the  list.  "You 
shall  see  her,"  cried  the  duke,  and  instantly  sent  a 
chaise  for  her.  Presently  she  came  ushered  in, 
dressed  in  her  best,  and  was  elected  by  acclama- 
tion. The  Whig  gentlemen  drank  the  little  lady's 
health  up-standing  and,  feasting  her  with  sweet- 
meats and  passing  her  round  with  kisses,  at  once 
inscribed  her  name  with  a  diamond  on  a  drinking- 
glass.  "  Pleasure,"  she  says,  "  was  too  poor  a 
word  to  express  my  sensations.  They  amounted 
to  ecstasy.  Never  again  throughout  my  whole  life 
did  I  pass  so  happy  an  evening." 

It  used  to  be  said  that  it  took  so  much  wine  to 
raise  Addison  to  his  best  mood,  that  Steele  gene- 
rally got  drunk  before  that  golden  hour  arrived. 
Steele,  that  warm-hearted  careless  fellow  in  whom 
Thackeray  so  delighted,  certainly  shone  at  the  Kit- 
Kat;  and  an  anecdote  still  extant  shows  him  to 
us  with  all  his  amiable  weaknesses.  On  the  night 
of  that  great  Whig  festival — the  celebration  of  King 
William's  anniversary — Steele  and  Addison  brought 
Dr.  Hoadley,  the  Bishop  of  Bangor,  with  them,  and 
solemnly  drank  "  the  immortal  memory."  Pre- 
sently John  Sly,  an  eccentric  hatter  and  enthu- 
siastic politician,  crawled  into  the  room  on  his 
knees,  in  the  old  Cavalier  fashion,  and  drank  the 
Orange  toast  in  a  tankard  of  foaming  October.  No 
one  laughed  at  the  tipsy  hatter ;  but  Steele,  kindly 


even  when  in  liquor,  kept  whispering  to  the 
rather  shocked  prelate,  "  Do  laugh ;  it  is  humanity 
to  laugh."  The  bishop  soon  put  on  his  hat  and 
withdrew,  and  Steele  by  and  by  subsided  under  the 
table.  Picked  up  and  crammed  into  a  sedan-chair, 
he  insisted,  late  as  it  was,  in  going  to  the  Bishop  of 
Bangor's  to  apologise.  Eventually  he  was  coaxed 
home  and  got  upstairs,  but  then,  in  a  gush  of 
politeness,  he  insisted  on  seeing  the  chairmen  out ; 
after  which  he  retired  with  self-complacency  to 
bed.  The  next  morning,  in  spite  of  headache  the 
most  racking,  Steele  sent  the  tolerant  bishop  the 
following  exquisite  couplet,  which  covered  a  mul- 
titude of  such  sins  : — 

"  Virtue  with  so  much  ease  on  Bangor  sits, 
All  faults  he  pardons,  though  he  none  commits." 

One  night  when  amiable  Garth  lingered  over  the 
Kit-Kat  wine,  though  patients  were  pining  for  him, 
Steele  reproved  the  epicurean  doctor.  "  Nay, 
nay,  Dick,"  said  Garth,  pulling  out  a  list  of  fifteen, 
"it's  no  great  matter  after  all,  for  nine  of  them 
have  such  bad  constitutions  that  not  all  the  phy- 
sicians in  the  world  could  save  them  ;  and  the 
other  six  have  such  good  constitutions  that  all  the 
physicians  in  the  world  could  not  kill  them." 

Three  o'clock  in  the  morning  seems  to  have 
been  no  uncommon  hour  for-  the  Kit-Kat  to  break 
up,  and  a  Tory -lampooner  says  that  at  this  club 
the  youth  of  Anne's  reign  learned 

"  To  sleep  away  the  days  and  drink  away  the  nights." 

The  club  latterly  held  its  meetings  at  Tonson's 
villa  at  Barn  Elms  (previously  the  residence  of 
Cowley),  or  at  the  "  Upper  Flask "  tavern,  on 
Hampstead  Heath.  The  club  died  out  before 
1727  (George  II.);  for  Vanbrugh,  writing  to 
Tonson,  says, — "  Both  Lord  Carlisle  and  Cobham 
expressed  a  great  desire  of  having  one  meeting 
next  winter,  not  as  a  club,  but  as  old  friends 
that  have  been  of  a  club — and  the  best  club  that 
ever  met."  In  1709  we  find  the  Kit-Kat  sub- 
scribing 400  guineas  for  the  encouragement  of 
good  comedies.  Altogether  such  a  body  of  men 
must  have  had  great  influence  on  the  literature  of 
the  age,  for,  in  spite  of  the  bitterness  of  party,  there 
was  some  generous  esprit  de  corps  then,  and  the 
Whig  wits  and  poets  were  a  power,  and  were 
backed  by  rank  and  wealth. 

Whether  the  "Trumpet"  (formerly  half-way  up 
on  the  left-hand  side  ascending  from  Temple  Bar) 
was  the  citadel  of  the  Kit-Kats  or  not,  Steele  intro- 
duces it  as  the  scene  of  two  of  the  best  of  his 
Tatler  papers.  It  was  thrre,  in  October,  1709,  that 
he  received  his  deputation  of  Staffordshire  county 


72 


OLD   AND    NEW   LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries] 


THE  FIFTEEN   TRUMPETERS. 


73 


gentlemen,  delightful  old  fogies,  standing  much  on 
form  and  precedence.  There  he  prepares  tea  for 
Sir  Harry  Quickset,  Bart. ;  Sir  Giles  Wheelbarrow ; 
Thomas  Rentfree,  Esq.,  J. P. ;  Andrew  Windmill, 
Esq.,  the  steward,  with  boots  and  whip  ;  and  Mr. 
Nicholas  Doubt,  of  the  Inner  Temple,  Sir  Harry's 
mischievous  young  nephew.  After  much  dispute 
about  precedence,  the  sturdy  old  fellows  are  taken 


humour  Steele  sketches  Sir  Geoffrey  Notch,  the 
president,  who  had  spent  all  his  money  on  horses, 
dogs,  and  gamecocks,  and  who  looked  on  all 
thriving  persons  as  pitiful  upstarts.  Then  comes 
Major  Matchlock,  who  thought  nothing  of  any 
battle  since  Marston  Moor,  and  who  usually  began 
his  story  of  Naseby  at  three-quarters  past  six. 
Dick  Reptile    was  a   silent  man,  with  a  nephew 


uiSHoi'  13UTLER  (sce  J)age  77). 


by  Steele  to  "  Dick's  "  Coffee-house  for  a  morning 
draught ;  and  safely,  after  some  danger,  effect  the 
passage  of  Fleet  Street,  Steele  rallying  them  at  the 
Temple  Gate.  In  Sir  Harry  we  fancy  we  see  a 
faint  sketch  of  the  more  dignified  Sir  Roger  de 
Coverley,  which  Addison  afterwards  so  exquisitely 
elaborated. 

At  the  "Trumpet"  Steele  also  introduces  us  to  a 
delightful  club  of  old  citizens  that  met  every  even- 
ing precisely  at  six.  The  humours  of  the  fifteen 
Trumpeters  are  painted  with  the  breadth  and  vigour 
of    Hogarth's   best    manner.      With   a   delightful 


whom  he  often  reproved.  The  wit  of  the  clubi 
an  old  Temple  bencher,  never  left  the  room  till 
he  had  quoted  ten  distiches  from  "  Hudibras  "  and 
told  long  stories  of  a  certain  extinct  man  about 
town  named  Jack  Ogle.  Old  Reptile  was  extremely 
attentive  to  all  that  was  said,  though  he  had  heard 
the  same  stories  every  night  for  twenty  years,  and 
upon  all  occasions  winked  oracularly  to  his 
nephew  to  particularly  mind  what  passed.  About 
ten  the  innocent  twaddle  closed  by  a  man  coming 
in  with  a  lantern  to  light  home  old  BickerstafT. 
They  were   simple   and   happy  times   that  Steele 


74 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


describes  with  such  kindly  humour ;  and  the 
London  of  his  days  must  have  been  full  of  such 
quiet,  homely  haunts. 

Mr.  R.  Wells,  of  Colne  Park,  Halstead,  kindly 
informs  us  that  as  late  as  the  year  1765  there 
was  a  club  that  still  kept  up  the  name  of  Kit-Kat. 
The  members  in  1765  included,  among  others. 
Lord  Sandwich  (Jemmy  Twitcher,  as  he  was  gene- 
rally called),  Mr.  Beard,  Lord  Weymouth,  Lord 
Bolingbroke,  the  Duke  of  Queensbury,  Lord 
Caresford,  Mr.  Cadogan,  the  Marquis  of  Caracciollo, 
Mr.  Seymour,  and  Sir  George  Armytage.  One 
of  the  most  active  managers  of  the  club  was 
Richard  Phelps  (who,  we  believe,  afterwards  was 
secretary  to  Pitt).  Among  letters  and  receipts 
preserved  by  Mr,  Wells,  is  one  from  Thomas 
Pingo,  jeweller,  of  the  "Golden  Head,"  on  the 
"  Paved  Stones,"  Gray's  Inn  Lane,  for  gold  medals, 
probably  to  be  worn  by  the  members. 

Even  in  the  reign  of  James  L  Shire  Lane  was 
christened  Rogues'  Lane,  and,  in  spite  of  all  the 
dukes  and  lords  of  the  Kit-Kat,  it  never  grew  very 
respectable.  In  1724  that  incomparable  young 
rascal,  Jack  Sheppard,  used  to  frequent  the 
"Bible"  public-house — a  printers' house  of  call — at 
No.  13.  There  was  a  trap  in  one  of  the  rooms 
by  which  Jack  could  drop  into  a  subterraneous 
passage  leading  to  Bell  Yard.  Tyburn  gibbet 
cured  Jack  of  this  trick.  In  1738  the  lane  went 
on  even  worse,  for  there  Thomas  Carr  (a  low 
attorney,  of  Ehii  Court)  and  Elizabeth  Adams 
robbed  and  murdered  a  gentleman  named  Quarring- 
ton  at  the  "  Angel  and  Crown "  Tavern,  and  the 
miscreants  were  hung  at  Tyburn.  Hogarth  painted 
a  portrait  of  the  woman.  One  night,  many  years 
ago,  a  man  was  robbed,  thrown  downstairs,  and 
killed,  in  one  of  the  dens  in  Shire  Lane.  There 
was  snow  on  the  ground,  and  about  two  o'clock, 
when  the  watchmen  grew  drowsy  and  were  a  long 
while  between  tiieir  rounds,  the  frightened  mur- 
derers carried  the  stiffened  body  up  the  lane  and 
placed  it  bolt  upriglit,  near  a  dim  oil  lamp,  at  a 
neighbour's  door.  There  the  watchmen  found  it ; 
but  there  was  no  clue  to  guide  them,  for  nearly 
every  house  in  the  lane  was  infamous.  Years  after, 
two  ruffianly  fellows  who  were  confined  in  the 
King's  Bench  were  heard  accusing  each  other  of 
the  murder  in  Shire  Lane,  and  justice  pounced 
upon  her  prey. 

One  thieves'  house,  known  as  the  "Retreat," 
led,  Mr.  Diprose  says,  by  a  back  way  into 
Crown  Court ;  and  other  dens  had  a  passage  into 
No.  242,  Strand.  Nos.  9,  10,  and  11  were  known 
as  Cadgers'  Hall,  and  were  much  frequented  by 
beggars,  and  bushels  of  bread,  thrown  aside   by 


the  professional  mendicants,  were  found  there  by 
the  police. 

The  "  Sun  "  Tavern,  afterwards  the  "  Temple  Bar 
Stores,"  had  been  a  great  resort  for  the  Tom  and 
Jerry  frolics  of  the  Regency ;  and  the  "  Anti-Galli- 
can"  Tavern  was  a  haunt  of  low  sporting  men,  being 
kept  by  Harry  Lee,  father  of  the  first  and  original 
"  tiger,"  invented  and  made  fashionable  by  the 
notorious  Lord  Barrymore.  During  the  Chartist 
times  violent  meetings  were  held  at  a  club  in 
Shire  Lane.  A  good  story  is  told  of  one  of  these. 
A  detective  in  disguise  attended  an  illegal  meeting, 
leaving  his  comrades  ready  below.  All  at  once  a 
frantic  hatter  rose,  denounced  the  detective  as  a 
spy,  and  proposed  off-hand  to  pitch  him  out  of 
window.  Permitted  by  the  more  peaceable  to 
depart,  the  policeman  scuttled  downstairs  as  fast 
as  he  could,  and,  not  being  recognised  in  his  dis- 
guise, was  instantly  knocked  down  by  his  friends' 
prompt  truncheons. 

In  Ship  Yard,  close  to  Shire  Lane,  once  stood  a 
block  of  disreputable,  tumble  down  houses,  used  by 
coiners,  and  known  as  the  "  Smashing  Lumber." 
Every  room  had  a  secret  trap,  and  from  the  work- 
shop above  a  shaft  reached  the  cellars  to  hurry  away 
by  means  of  a  basket  and  pulley  all  the  apparatus 
at  the  first  alarm.  The  first  man  made  his  fortune, 
but  the  new  police  soon  ransacked  the  den  and 
broke  up  the  business. 

In  August,  1823,  Theodore  Hook,  the  witty  and 
the  heartless,  was  brought  to  a  sponging-house 
kept  by  a  sheriff's  officer  named  Hemp,  at  the 
upper  end  of  Shire  Lane,  being  under  arrest  for  a 
Crown  debt  of  ;^i  2,000,  due  to  the  Crown  for 
defalcations  during  his  careless  consulship  at  the 
Mauritius.  He  was  editor  of  JoJin  Bull  at  the 
time,  and  continued  while  in  this  horrid  den  to 
write  his  "  Sayings  arid  Doings,"  and  to  pour  forth 
for  royal  pay  his  usual  scurrilous  lampoons  at  all 
who  supported  poor,  persecuted  Queen  Caroline. 
Dr.  Maginn,  who  had  just  come  over  from  Cork 
to  practise  Toryism,  was  his  constant  visitor,  and 
Hemp's  barred  door  no  doubt  often  shook  at  their 
reckless  laughter.  Hook  at  length  left  Shire  Lane 
for  the  Rules  of  the  Bench  (Temple  Place)  in 
April,  1824.  Previously  to  his  arrest  he  had 
been  living  in  retirement  at  lodgings,  in  Somer's 
Town,  with  a  poor  girl  whom  he  had  seduced. 
Here  he  renewed  the  mad  scenes  of  his  thought* 
less  youth  with  Terry,  Matthews,  and  wonderful 
old  Tom  Hill ;  and  here  he  resumed  (but  not  at 
these  revels)  his  former  acquaintanccsliip  with 
that  mischievous  obstructive,  Wilson  Croker.  After 
he  left  Shire  Lane  and  the  Rules  of  the  Bench  he 
went  to  Putney. 


Fleet  Street  Tiibutaries.] 


A  RARE  LAWYER. 


75 


In  spite  of  all  bad  proclivities,  Shire  Lane  had 
its  fits  of  respectability.  In  1603  there  was  living 
there  Sir  Arthur  A  tie,  Knt,  in  early  life  secretary 
to  the  great  Earl  of  Leicester,  and  afterwards 
attendant  on  his  step-son,  the  luckless  Earl  of  Essex. 
Elias  Ashmole,  the  great  antiquary  and  student  in 
alchemy  and  astrology,  also  honoured  this  lane, 
but  he  gathered  in  the  Temple  those  gi-eat  col- 
lections of  books  and  coins,  some  of  which  perished 
by  fire,  and  some  of  which  he  afterwards  gave  to 
the  University  of  Oxford,  where  they  were  placed 
in  a  building  called,  in  memory  of  the  illustrious 
collector,  the  Ashmolcan  Museum. 

To  Mr.  Noble's  research  we  are  indebted  for  the 
knowledge  that  in  1767  Mr.  Hoole,  the  translator  of 
Tasso,  was  living  in  Shire  Lane,  and  from  thence 
wrote  to  Dr.  Percy,  who  was  collecting  his  "Ancient 
Ballads,"  to  ask  him  Dr.  Wharton's  address.  Hoole 
was  at  that  time  writing  a  dramatic  piece  called 
Cyrus,  for  Covent  Garden  Theatre.  He  seems  to 
have  been  an  amiable  man  but  a  feeble  poet,  was 
an  esteemed  friend  of  Dr.  Jolmson,  and  had  a 
situation  in  the  East  India  House. 

Another  illustrious  tenant  of  Shire  Lane  was 
James  Perry,  the  proprietor  of  the  Morning 
Chronicle^  who  died,  as  it  was  reported,  worth 
;^i3o,ooo.  That  lively  memoir- writer,  Taylor,  of 
the  Sun,  who  wrote  "  Monsieur  Tonson,"  describes 
Perry  as  living  in  the  narrow  part  of  Shire  Lane, 
opposite  a  passage  which  led  to  tlie  stairs  from 
Boswell  Court.  He  lodged  with  l\Ir.  Lunan,  a 
bookbinder,  who  had  married  his  sister,  who 
subsequently  became  the  wife  of  that  great  Greek 
scholar,  thirsty  Dr.  Person.  Perry  had  begun  life 
as  the  editor  of  the  Gazeteer,  but  being  dis- 
missed by  a  Tory  proprietor,  and  on  the 
Morning  Chro7iiclc  being  abandoned  by  Wood- 
fall,  some  friends  of  Perry's  bought  the  derelict 
for  ;^2io,  and  he  and  Gray,  a  friend  of  Barett, 
became  the  joint-proprietors  of  the  concern.  Their 
printer,  Mr.  Lambert,  lived  in  Shire  Lane,  and 
here  the  partners,  too,  lived  for  three  or  four  years, 
when  they  removed  to  the  corner-house  of  Lancaster 
Court,  Strand. 

Bell  Yard  can  boast  of  but  few  associations ;  yet 
Pope  often  visited  the  dingy  passage,  because  there 
for  some  years  resided  his  old  friend  Fortescue, 
then  a  barrister,  but  afterwards  a  judge  and  Master 
of  the  Rolls.  To  Fortescue  Pope  dedicated  his 
"  Imitation  of  the  First  Satire  of  Horace,"  pub- 
lished in  1733.  It  contains  what  the  late  Mr. 
Rogers,  the  banker  and  poet,  used  to  consider  the 
best  line  Pope  ever  wrote,  and  it  is  certainly 
almost  perfect, — 

"  Bare  the  mean  heart  that  lurks  behind  a  star." 


In  that  delightful  collection  of  Pope's  "Table 
Talk,"  called  "  Spence's  Anecdotes,"  we  find  that 
a  chance  remark  of  Lord  Bolingbroke,  on  taking 
up  a  "Horace"  in  Pope's  sick-room,  led  to  those 
fine  "  Imitations  of  Horace"  which  we  now  possess. 
The  "First  Satire"  consists  of  an  imaginary  con- 
versation between  Pope  and  Fortescue,  who  advises  \ 
him  to  write  no  more  dangerous  invectives  against 
vice  or  folly.  It  was  Fortescue  who  assisted  Pope 
in  writing  the  humorous  law-report  of  "  Stradling 
versus  Stiles,"  in  "  Scriblerus."  The  intricate  case 
is  this,  and  is  worthy  of  Anstey  himself:  Sir  John 
Swale,  of  Swale's  Hall,  in  Swale  Dale,  by  the  river 
Swale,  knight,  made  his  last  will  and  testament, 
in  which,  among  other  bequests,  was  this :  "  Out 
of  the  kind  love  and  respect  that  I  bear  my  much- 
honoured  and  good  friend,  Mr.  Matthew  Stradling, 
gent.,  I  do  bequeath  unto  the  said  Matthew  Strad- 
ling, gent,  all  my  black  and  white  horses."  Now 
the  testator  Imd  six  black  horses,  six  white,  and 
six  pied  horses.  The  debate,  therefore,  was  whether 
the  said  Matthew  Stradling  should  have  the  said 
pied  horses,  by  virtue  of  the  said  bequest.  The 
case,  after  much  debate,  is  suddenly  terminated 
by  a  motion  in  arrest  of  judgment  that  the  pied 
horses  were  mares,  and  thereupon  an  inspection  was 
prayed.  This,  it  must  be  confessed,  is  admirable 
fooling.  If  the  Scriblerus  Club  had  carried  out 
their  plan  of  bantering  the  follies  of  the  followers 
of  every  branch  of  knowledge,  Fortescue  would  no 
doubt  have  selected  the  law  as  his  special  butt. 
"This  friend  of  Pope,"  says  Mr.  Carruthers,  "was 
consulted  by  the  poet  about  all  his  affairs,  as 
well  as  those  of  Mardia  Blount,  and,  as  may  be 
gathered,  he  gave  him  advice  without  a  fee.  The 
intercourse  between  the  poet  and  his  *  learned 
counsel '  was  cordial  and  sincere ;  and  of  the  letters 
that  passed  between  them  sixty-eight  have  been 
published,  ranging  from  17 14  to  the  last  year  of 
Pope's  life.  They  are  short,  unaffected  letters — 
more  truly  hitcrs  than  any  others  in  the  series." 
Fortescue  was  promoted  to  the  bench  of  the 
Exchequer  in  1735,  from  thence  to  the  Common 
Pleas  in  1738,  and  in  1741  was  made  Master  of 
the  Rolls.  Pope's  letters  are  often  addressed  to 
"  his  counsel  learned  in  the  law,  at  his  house  at  the 
upper  end  of  Bell  Yard,  near  unto  Lincoln's  Inn." 
In  March,  1736,  he  writes  of  "  that  filthy  old  place, 
Bell  Yard,  which  I  want  them  and  you  to  quit." 

Apollo  Court,  next  Bell  Yard,  has  little  about  it 
worthy  of  notice  beyond  the  fact  that  it  derived  '. 
its  name  from  the  great  club-room  at  the  "Devil" 
Tavern,  that  once  stood  on  the  opposite  side  of 
Fleet  Street,  and  the  jovialities  of  which  we  have 
already  chronicled. 


76 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


^Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


CHAPTER    VI  L 


FLEET  STREET  (NORTHERN  TRIBUTARIES- CHANCERY  LANE). 

The  Asylum  for  Jewish  Converts— The  Rolls  Chapel— Ancient  Monuments— A  Speaker  Expelled  for  Bribery—"  Remember  Cffisar" — Trampling 
oa  a  Master  of  the  Rolls— Sir  William  Grant's  Oddities— Sir  John  Leach— Funeral  of  Lord  GifTord — Mrs  ;Clark  and  the  Duke  of  York — 
Wolsey  in  his  Pomp — Strafford — "  Honest  Isaak" — The  Lord  Keeper — Lady  Fanshawe— Jack  Randal — Serjeants'  Inn— An  Evening  with 
Hazlitt  at  the  "  Southampton" — Charles  Lamb  — Sheridan — The  Sponging  Houses — The  Law  Institute — A  Tragical  Story, 


Chancery,  or  Chancellor's,  Lane,  as  it  was  first 
called,  must  have  been  a  mere  quagmire,  or  cart- 
track,  in  the  reign  of  Edward  I.,  for  Strype  tells 
us  that  at  that  period  it  had  become  so  impassable 
to  knight,  monk,  and  citizen,  that  John  Breton, 
Custos  of  London,  had  it  barred  up,  to  "hinder 
any  harm ;"  and  the  Bishop  of  Chichester,  whose 
house  was  there  (now  Chichester  Rents),  kept  up 
the  bar  ten  years ;  at  the  end  of  that  time,  on 
an  inquisition  of  the  annoyances  of  London,  the 
bishop  was  proscribed  at  an  inquest  for  setting  up 
two  staples  and  a  bar,  "whereby  men  with  carts 
and  other  carriages  could  not  pass."  The  bishop 
pleaded  John  Breton's  order,  and  the  sheriff  was 
then  commanded  to  remove  the  annoyance,  and 
the  hooded  men  with  their  carts  once  more  cracked 
their  whips  and  whistled  to  their  horses  up  and 
down  the  long  disused  lane. 

Half-way  up  on  the  east  side  of  Chancery  Lane 
a  dull  archway,  through  which  can  be  caught 
glimpses  of  the  door  of  an  old  chapel,  leads  to  the 
Rolls  Court.  On  the  site  of  that  chapel,  in  the 
year  1233,  history  tells  us  that  Henry  HL  erected 
a  Carthusian  house  of  maintenance  for  converted 
Jews,  who  there  lived  under  a  Christian  governor. 
At  a  time  when  Norman  barons  were  not  unac- 
customed to  pull  out  a  Jew's  teeth,  or  to  fry 
him  on  gridirons  till  he  paid  handsomely  for  his 
release,  conversion,  which  secured  safety  from  such 
rough  practices,  may  not  have  been  unfrequent. 
However,  the  converts  decreasing  when  Edward  L, 
after  hanging  280  Jews  for  clipping  coin,  banished 
the  rest  from  the  realm,  half  the  property  of  the 
Jews  who  were  hung  stem  Edward  gave  to  the 
preachers  who  tried  to  convert  the  obstinate  and 
stiff-necked*  generation,  and  half  to  the  Domus 
Conversomm,  in  Chancellor's  Lane.  In  1278  we 
find  the  converts  calling  themselves,  in  a  letter 
sent  to  the  king  by  John  the  Convert,  "  Pauperes 
Ccelicolse  Christi."  In  the  reign  of  Richard  II. 
a  certain  converted  Jew  received  twopence  a  day 
for  life ;  and  in  the  reign  of  Henry  IV.  we  find 
the  daughter  of  a  rabbi  paid  by  the  keepers  of 
the  house  of"  converts  a  penny  a  day  for  life,  by 
special  patent. 


Edward  III.,  in  1377,  broke  up  the  Jewish 
almshouse  in  Chancellor's  Lane,  and  annexed  the 
house  and  chapel  to  the  newly-created  office  of 
Custos  Rotulorum,  or  Keeper  of  the  Rolls.  Some 
of  the  stones  the  old  gaberdines  have  rubbed 
against  are  no  doubt  incorporated  in  the  present 
chapel,  which,  however,  has  been  so  often  altered, 
that,  like  the  Highlandman's  gun,  it  is  "  new  stock 
and  new  barrel."  The  first  Master  of  the  Rolls, 
in  1377,  was  William  Burstal ;  but  till  Thomas 
Cromwell,  in  1534,  the  Masters  of  the  Rolls  were 
generally  priests,  and  often  king's  chaplains. 

The  Rolls  Chapel  was  built,  says  Pennant,  by 
Inigo  Jones,  in  i6i7,at  a  cost  of;!^2,ooo.  Dr. Donne, 
the  poet,  preached  the  consecration  sermon.  One 
of  the  monuments  belonging  to  the  earlier  chapel 
is  that  of  Dr.  John  Yonge,  Master  of  the  Rolls  in 
the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  Vertue  and  Walpole 
attribute  the  tomb  to  Torregiano,  Michael  Angelo's 
contemporary  and  the  sculptor  of  the  tomb  of 
Henry  VII.  at  Westminster.  The  master  is  repre- 
sented by  the  artist  (who  starved  himself  to  death 
at  Seville)  in  effigy  on  an  altar-tomb,  in  a  red  gown 
and  deep  square  cap;  his  hands  are  crossed,  his 
face  wears  an  expression  of  calm  resignation  and 
profound  devotion.  In  a  recess  at  the  back  is  a 
head  of  Christ,  and  an  angel's  head  appears  on  either 
side  in  high  relief.  Another  monument  of  interest 
in  this  quiet,  legal  chapel  is  that  of  Sir  Edward 
Bruce,  created  by  James  I.  Baron  of  Kinloss.  He 
was  one  of  the  crafty  ambassadors  sent  by  wily 
James  to  openly  congratulate  Elizabeth  on  the 
failure  of  the  revolt  of  Essex,  but  secretly  to  com- 
mence a  correspondence  with  Cecil.  The  place  of 
Master  of  the  Rolls  was  Bruce's  reward  for  this  useful 
service.  The  ex-master  lies  with  his  head  resting  on 
his  hand,  in  the  "toothache"  attitude  ridiculed  by 
the  old  dramatists.  His  hair  is  short,  his  beard 
long,  and  he  wears  a  long  furred  robe.  Before  him 
kneels  a  man  in  armour,  possibly  his  son.  Lord 
Kinloss,  who,  three  years  after  his  father's  death, 
perished  in  a  most  savage  duel  with  Sir  Edward 
Sackville,  ancestor  to"  the  Earls  of  Elgin  and 
Aylesbury.  Another  fine  monument  is  that  of  Sir 
Richard  Allington,  of  Horseheath,  Cambridgeshire, 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


NOT  DEAD,   BUT   BURIED. 


77 


» 


brother-in  law  of  Sir  William  Cordall,  a  former 
Master  of  the  Rolls,  who  died  in  1561.  Clad  in 
armour,  Sir  Richard  kneels, — 

"  As  for  past  sins  he  would  atone, 
By  saying  endless  prayers  in  stone." 

His  wife  faces  him,  and  beneath  on  a  tablet  kneel 
their  three  daughters.  Sir  Richard's  charitable 
widow  lived  after  his  death  in  Holborn,  in  a  house 
long  known  as  Allington  Place.  Many  of  the  past 
masters  sleep  within  these  walls,  and  amongst  them 
Sir  John  Trevor,  who  died  in  1717  (George  I.), 
and  Sir  John  Strange ;  but  the  latter  has  not  had 
inscribed  over  his  bones,  as  Pennant  remarks,  the 
old  punning  epitaph,— 

"  Here  lies  an  honest  lawyer — that  is  Strange  1^^ 

The  above-mentioned  Sir  John  Trevor,  while 
Speakerof  the  House  of  Commons,  being  denounced 
for  bribery,  was  compelled  himself  to  preside  over 
the  subsequent  debate — an  unparalleled  disgrace. 
The  indictment  ran  : — 

"  That  Sir  John  Trevor,  Speaker  of  the  House, 
receiving  a  gratuity  of  1,000  guineas  from  the  City 
of  London,  after  the  passing  of  the  Orphans'  Bill, 
is  guilty  of  high  crime  and  misdemeanour."  Trevor 
was  himself,  as  Speaker,  compelled  to  put  this  re- 
solution from  the  chair.  The  "Ayes"  were  not  met 
by  a  single  "  No,"  and  the  culprit  was  required  to 
officially  announce  that,  in  the  unanimous  opinion 
of  the  House  over  which  he  presided,  he  stood 
convicted  of  a  high  crime.  "  His  expulsion  from 
the  House,"  .says  Mr.  Jeaffreson,  in  his  "Book 
about  Lawyers,"  "followed  in  due  course.  One 
is  inclined  to  think  that  in  these  days  no  English 
gentleman  could  outlive  such  humiliation  for  four- 
and-twenty  hours.  Sir  John  Trevor  not  only 
survived  the  humiliation,  but  remained  a  personage 
of  importance  in  London  society.  Convicted  of 
bribery,  he  was  not  called  upon  to  refund  the 
bribe  ;  and  expelled  from  the  House  of  Commons, 
he  was  not  driven  from  his  judicial  office.  He 
continued  to  be  tht  Master  of  the  Rolls  till  his 
death,  which  took  place  on  May  20,  1717,  in  his 
official  mansion  in  Chancery  Lane.  His  retention 
of  office  is  easily  accounted  for.  Having  acted 
as  a  vile  negotiator  between  the  two  great  political 
parties,  they  were  equally  afraid  of  him.  Neither 
the  Whigs  nor  the  Tories  dared  to  demand  his 
expulsion  from  office,  fearing  that  in  revenge  he 
would  make  revelations  alike  disgraceful  to  all 
parties  concerned." 

The  arms  of  Sir  Robert  Cecil  and  Sir  Harbottle 
Grimstone  gleam  in  the  chapel  windows.  Swift's 
detestation,  Bishop  Burnet,  the  historian  and  friend 


of  William  of  Orange,  was  preacher  here  for  nine 
years,  and  here  delivered  his  celebrated  sermon, 
"  Save  me  from  the  lion's  mouth  :  thou  hast  heard 
me  from  the  horns  of  the  unicorn."  Burnet  was 
appointed  by  Sir  Harbottle,  who  was  Master  of 
the  Rolls ;  and  in  his  "  Own  Times"  he  has  inserted 
a  warm  eulogy  of  Sir  Harbottle  as  a  worthy  and 
pious  man.  Atterbury,  the  Jacobite  Bishop  of 
Rochester,  was  also  preacher  here ;  nor  can  we 
forget  that  amiable  man  and  great  theologian, 
Bishop  Butler,  the  author  of  the  '"Analogy  of 
Religion."  Butler,  the  son  of  a  Dissenting  trades- 
man at  Wantage,  was  for  a  long  time  lost  in  a 
small  country  living,  a  loss  to  the  Church  which 
Archbishop  Blackburne  lamented  to  Queen  Caroline. 
"Why,  I  thought  he  had  been  dead!"  exclaimed 
the  queen.  "  No,  madam,"  replied  the  arch- 
bishop; "  he  is  only  buried."  Li  17 18  Butler  was 
appointed  preacher  at  the  Rolls  by  Sir  Joseph 
Jekyll.  This  excellent  man  afterwards  became 
Bishop  of  Bristol,  and  died  Bishop  of  Durham. 

A  few  anecdotes  about  past  dignitaries  at  the 
Rolls.  Of  Sir  Julius  Cgesar,  Master  of  the  Rolls  in 
the  reign  of  Charles  I.,  Lord  Clarendon,  in  his 
"  History  of  the  Rebellion,"  tells  a  story  too  good 
to  be  passed  by.  This  Sir  Julius,  having  by  right 
of  office  the  power  of  appointing  the  six  clerks, 
designed  one  of  the  profitable  posts  for  his  son, 
Robert  Caesar.  One  of  the  clerks  dying  before 
Sir  Julius  could  appoint  his  son,  the  imperious 
treasurer,  Sir  Richard  Weston,  promised  his  place 
to  a  dependant  of  his,  who  gave  him  for  it  ;^6,ooo 
down.  The  vexation  of  old  Sir  Julius  at  this  arbi- 
trary step  so  moved  his  friends,  that  King  Charles 
was  induced  to  promise  Robert  Caesar  the  next 
post  in  the  clerks'  office  that  should  fall  vacant, 
and  the  Lord  Treasurer  was  bound  by  this  pro- 
mise. One  day  the  Earl  of  Tullibardine,  passion- 
ately pressing  the  treasurer  about  his  business,  was 
told  by  Sir  Richard  that  he  had  quite  forgotten 
the  matter,  but  begged  for  a  memorandum,  that 
he  might  remind  the  king  that  very  afternoon. 
The  earl  then  wrote  on  a  small  bit  of  paper  the 
words,  "  Remember  Caesar !"  and  Sir  Richard, 
without  reading  it,  placed  it  carefully  in  a  little 
pocket,  where  he  said  he  kept  all  the  memorials 
first  to  be  transacted.  Many  days  passed,  and 
the  ambitious  treasurer  forgot  all  about  Cffisar. 
At  length  one  night,  changing  his  clothes,  his 
servant  brought  him  the  notes  and  papers  from 
his  pocket,  which  he  looked  over  according  to  his 
custom.  Among  these  he  found  the  little  billet 
with  merely  the  words  "Remember  Caesar!"  and 
on  the  sight  of  this  the  arrogant  yet  timid  courtier 
was  utterly  confounded.      Turning  pale,   he  sent 


78 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


•^ 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


"REMEMBER  C^SAR!" 


79 


for  his  bosom  friends,  showed  them  the  paper,  and 
held  a  solemn  deliberation  over  it.    It  was  decided 
that  it  must  have  been  dropped  into  his  hand  by 
some  secret  friend,  as  he  was  on  his  way  to  the 
priory  lodgings.     Every  one  agreed  that  some  con- 
spiracy was  planned  against  his  life  by  his  many 
and  mighty  enemies,  and  that  Csesar's  fate  might 
soon  be  his  unless  great  precautions  were  taken. 
The   friends    there- 
fore persuaded  him 
to  be  at  once  indis- 
posed, and  not  ven- 
ture   forth    in    that 
neighbourhood,  nor 
to  admit  to  an  au- 
dience any  but  per- 
sons of  undoubted 
affection.     At  nigl.t 
the  gates  were  shut 
and    barred    early, 
and     the     porter 
solemnly     enjoined 
not   to   open   them 
to   any  one,  or   to 
venture   on  even  a 
moment's    sleep. 
Some  servants  were 
sent  to  watch  with 
him,  and  the  friends 
sat  up  all  night   to 
await     the      event. 
"  Such  houses,"  says 
Clarendon,  who  did 
not    like   the    trea- 
surer,   "  are   always 
in      the      morning 
haunted     by    early 
suitors  ;■'  but  it  was 
very  late  before  any 
one  could  now  get 
admittance  into  the 
house,    the     porter 
having  tasted  some 

of  the  arrears  of  sleep  which  he  owed  to  him- 
self for  his  night  watching,  which  he  accounted 
for  to  his  acquaintance  by  whispering  to  them 
"  that  his  lord  should  have  been  killed  that  night, 
which  had  kept  all  the  house  from  going  to  bed." 
Shortly  afterwards,  however,  the  Earl  of  Tulli- 
bardine  asking  the  treasurer  whether  he  had  re- 
membered Caesar,  the  treasurer  quickly  recollected 
the  ground  of  his  perturbation,  could  not  forbear 
imparting  it  to  his  friends,  and  so  the  whole  jest 
came  to  be  discovered. 
In  1614,  jQd  i2s.  6d.  was  claimed  by  Sir  Julius 


IZAAK  WALTOi^'s   HOUSE  {see  page  82), 


Caesar  for  paving  the  part  of  Chancery  Lane  over 
against  the  Rolls  Gate. 

Sir  Joseph  Jekyll,  the  Master  ot  the  Rolls  in 
the  reign  of  George  I.,  was  an  ancestor  of  that 
witty  Jekyll,  the  friend  and  adviser  of  George  IV. 
Sir  Joseph  was  very  active  in  introducing  a  Bill 
for  increasing  the  duty  on  gin,  in  consequence  of 
which  he  became  so  odious  to  the  mob  that  they 

one  day  hustled  and 
trampled  on  him  in 
a  riot   in  Lincoln's 
Inn  Fields.        LIo- 
garth,  who  painted 
his  *'  Gin  Lane"  to 
express    his    alarm 
and  disgust   at   the 
growing      intempe- 
rance of  the  London 
poor,  has  in  ono  of 
his  extraordinary 
pictures  represented 
a  low  fellow  writing 
J.  J.  under  a  gibbet. 
Sir  William  Grant, 
who  succeeded  Lord 
Alvanley,   was    the 
last  Master  but  one 
that  resided  in  the 
Rolls.        He     had 
])ractised      at      the 
Canadian   bar,   and 
on  returning  to  Eng- 
l;itid    attracted    the 
attention    of    Lord 
rhurlow,  then  chan- 
cellor.    He  was  an 
admirable     speaker 
in  the  House,  and 
even  Fox  is  said  to 
have     girded    him- 
self tighter    for  an 
encounter  with  such 
an  adversary.    "He 
used,"  says  Mr.  Cyrus  Jay,  in  his  amusing  book, 
"  The  Law,"  "  to  sit  from  five  o'clock  till  one,  and 
seldom  spoke  during  that  time.     He  dined  before 
going  into  court,  his  allowance  being  a  bottle  of 
Madeira  at  dinner  and  a  bottle  of  port  after.     He 
dined    alone,    and    the    unfortunate     servant   was 
expected     to   anticipate    his    master's    wishes    by 
intuition.      Sir  William   never   spoke  if  he  could 
help  it.     On  one  occasion  when  the  favourite  dish 
of  a  leg  of  pork  was  on  the  table,  the  servant  saw 
by  Sir  William's  face  that  something  was  wrong, 
but  he  could  not  tell  what.     Suddenly  a  thought 


8o 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


r  Fleet  Street  TributairieS. 


flashed  upon  him — the  Madeira  was  not  on  the 
table.  He  at  once  placed  the  decanter  before 
Sir  William,  who  immediately  flung  it  into  the 
grate,  exclaiming,  "  Mustard,  you  fool !" 

Sir  John  Leach,  another  Master  of  the  Rolls, 
was  the  son  of  a  tradesman  at  Bedford,  afterwards 
a  merchant's  clerk  and  an  embryo  architect. 
Mr.  Canning  appointed  him  Master  of  the  Rolls, 
an  office  previously,  it  has  been  said,  offered  to 
Mr.  Brougham.  Leach  was  fond,  says  Mr.  Jay,  of 
saying  sharp,  bitter  things  in  a  bland  and  courtly 
voice.  "  No  submission  could  ameliorate  his 
temper,  no  opposition  lend  asperity  to  his  voice.' 
In  court  two  large  fan  shades  were  always  placed 
in  a  way  to  shade  him  from  the  light,  and  to 
render  Sir  John  entirely  invisible.  "After  the 
counsel  who  was  addressing  the  court  had  finished, 
and  resumed  his  seat,  there  would  be  an  awful 
pause  for  a  minute  or  two,  when  at  length  out  of 
the  darkness  which  surrounded  the  chair  of  justice 
would  come  a  voice,  distinct,  awful,  solemn,  but 
with. the  solemnity  of  suppressed  anger — 'the  bill 
is  dismissed  with  costs.' "  No  explanations,  no  long 
series  of  arguments  were  advanced  to  support  the 
conclusion.  The  decision  was  given  with  the  air  of 
a  man  who  knew  he  was  right,  and  that  only 
folly  or  villainy  could  doubt  the  propriety  of  his 
judgments.  Sir  John  was  the  Prince  Regent's 
great  adviser  "during  Queen  Caroline's  trial,  and 
assisted  in  getting  up  the  evidence.  "  How  often," 
says  Mr.  Jay,  "  have  I  seen  him,  when  walking" 
through  the  Green  Park  between  four  and  five 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  knock  at  the  private  door 
of  Carlton  Palace.  I  have  seen  him  go  in  four  or 
five  days  following." 

Gifford  was  another  eminent  Master  of  the  Rolls, 
though  he  did  not  hold  the  ofiice  long.  He  first 
attracted  attention  when  a  lawyer's  clerk  by  his 
clever  observations  on  a  case  in  which  he  Avas 
consulted  by  his  employers,  in  the  presence  of  an 
important  client.  The  high  opinion  which  Lord 
Ellenborough  formed  of  his  talents  induced  Lord 
Liverpool  to  appoint  him  Solicitor-General.  While 
in  the  House  he  had  frequently  to  encounter  Sir 
Samuel  Romilly.  Mr.  Cyrus  Jay  has  an  interesting 
anecdote  about  the  funeral  of  Lord  GifTord,  who 
was  buried  in  the  Rolls  Chapel.  "  I  was,"  he  says, 
*'in  the  little  gallery  when  the  procession  came 
into  the  chapel,  and  Lord  Eldon  and  Lord  Chief 
Justice  Abbott  were  placed  in  a  pew  by  them- 
selves. I  could  observe  everything  that  took  place 
in  the  pew,  it  being  a  small  chapel,  and  noted  that 
Lord  Eldon  was  very  shaky,  and  during  the  most 
solemn  part  of  the  service  saw  him  touch  the  Chief 
Justice.     I  have  no  doubt  he  asked  for  his  snuff- 


box, for  the  snuff-box  was  produced,  and  he  took 
a  large  pinch  of  snuff.  The  Chief  Justice  was 
a  very  great  snuff-taker,  but  he  only  took  it  up  one 
nostril.  I  kept  my  eye  on  the  pinch  of  snuff,  and 
saw  that  Lord  Eldon,  the  moment  he  had  taken  it 
from  the  box,  threw  it  away.  I  was  sorry  at  the  time, 
and  was  astonished  at  the  deception  practised  by  so 
great  a  man,  with  the  grave  yawning  before  him." 

When  Sir  Thomas  Plumer  was  Master  of  the 
Rolls,  and  gave  a  succession  of  dinners  to  the  Bar, 
Romilly,  alluding  to  Lord  Eldon's  stinginess,  said, 
"  Verily  he  is  working  off  the  arrears  of  the  Lord 
Chancellor." 

At  the  back  of  the  Rolls  Chapel,  in  Bowling- 
Pin  Alley,  Bream's  Buildings  (No.'  28,  Chancery 
Lane),  there  once  lived,  according  to  party  calumny, 
a  journeyman  labourer,  named  Thompson,  whose 
clever  and  pretty  daughter,  the  wife  of  Clark,  a 
bricklayer,  became  the  mischievous  mistress  of  the 
good-natured  but  weak  Duke  of  York.  After 
making  great  scandal  about  the  sale  of  commissions 
obtained  by  her  influence,  the  shrewd  woman  wrote 
some  memoirs,  10,000  copies  of  which,  Mr.  Timbs 
records,  were,  the  year  after,  burnt  at  a  printer's  iii 
Salisbury  Square,  upon  condition  of  her  debts 
being  paid,  and  an  annuity  of  ^400  granted  her. 

Wilberforce's  unscrupulous  party  statement,  that 
Mrs.  Clark  was  a  low,  vulgar,  and  extravagant 
woman,  was  entirely  untrue.  Mrs.  Clark,  how- 
ever imprudent  and  devoid  of  virtue,  was  no  more 
the  daughter  of  a  journeyman  bricklayer  than  she 
was  the  daughter  of  Pope  Pius.  She  was  really, 
as  Mr.  Cyrus  Redding,  who  knew  most  of  tlie 
political  secrets  of  his  day,  has  proved,  the  unfor- 
tunate granddaughter  of  that  unfortunate  man, 
Theodore,  King  of  Corsica,  and  daughter  of  even 
a  more  unhappy  man.  Colonel  Frederick,  a  brave, 
well-read  gentleman,  who,  under  the  pressure  of  a 
temporary  monetary  difficulty,  occasioned  by  the 
dishonourable  conduct  of  a  friend,  blew  out  his 
brains  in  the  churchyard  of  St.  Margaret's,  West- 
minster. In  1798  a  poem,  written,  we  believe, 
by  Mrs.,  then  Miss  Clark,  called  "lanthe,"  was 
published  by  subscription  at  Hookham's,  in  New 
Bond  Street,  for  the  benefit  of  Colonel  Frederick's 
daughter  and  children,  and  dedicated  to  the  Prince 
of  Wales.  The  girl  married  an  Excise  officer,  much 
older  than  herself,  and  became  the  mistress  of  the 
Duke  of  York,  to  whom  probably  she  had  applied 
for  assistance,  or  subscriptions  to  her  poem.  The 
fact  is,  the  duke's  vices  were  turned,  as  vices 
frequently  are,  into  scourges  for  his  own  back.  He 
was  a  jovial,  good-natured,  affable,  selfish  man,  an 
incessant  and  reckless  gambler,  quite  devoid  of 
all  conscience  about  debts,  and,  indeed,  of  moral 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries] 


WOLSEY  IN  CHANCERY  LANE. 


8i 


principle  in  general.  When  he  got  tired  of  Mrs. 
Clark,  he  meanly  and  heartlessly  left  her,  with  a 
promised  annuity  which  he  never  paid,  and  with 
debts  mutually  incurred  at  their  house  in  Glou- 
cester Place,  which  he  shamefully  allowed  to  fall 
upon  her.  In  despair  and  revengeful  rage  the 
discarded  mistress  sought  the  eager  enemies  whom 
the  duke's  careless  neglect  had  sown  round  him, 
and  the  scandal  broke  forth.  The  Prince  of  Wales, 
who  was  as  fond  of  his  brother  as  he  could  be  of 
any  one,  was  greatly  vexed  at  the  exposure,  and 
sent  Lord  Moira  to  buy  up  the  correspondence 
from  the  Radical  bookseller,  Sir  Richard  Phillips 
who  had  advanced  money  upon  it,  and  was  glorying 
in  the  escapade. 

Mr.  Timbs  informs  us  that  Sir  Richard  Phillips, 
used  to  narrate  the  strange  and  mysterious  story 
of  the  real  secret  cause  of  the  Duke  of  York  scan- 
dal. The  exposure  originated  in  the  resent- 
ment of  one  M'Callum  against  Sir  Thomas  Picton, 
who,  as  Governor  of  Trinidad,  had,  among  other 
arbitrary  acts,  imprisoned  M'Callum  in  an  under- 
ground dungeon.  On  getting  to  England  he 
sought  justice ;  but,  finding  himself  baffled,  he  first 
published  his  travels  in  Trinidad,  to  expose  Picton  ; 
then  ferreted  out  charges  against  the  War  Office, 
and  at  last,  through  Colonel  Wardle,  brought  for- 
ward the  notorious  great-coat  contract.  This  being 
negatived  by  a  Ministerial  majority,  he  then  traced 
Mrs.  Clark,  and  arranged  the  whole  of  the  exposure 
for  Wardle  and  others.  To  effect  this  in  the  teeth 
of  power,  though  destitute  of  resources,  he  wrought 
night  and  day  for  months.  He  lodged  in  a  garret 
in  Hungerford  Market,  and  often  did  not  taste 
food  for  twenty-four  hours.  He  lived  to  see  the 
Duke  of  York  dismissed  from  office,  had  time  to 
publish  a  short  narrative,  then  died  of  exhaustion 
and  want. 

An  eye-witness  of  Mrs.  Clark's  behaviour  at  the 
bar  of  the  House  of  Commons  pronounced  her 
replies  as  full  of  sharpness  against  the  more 
insolent  of  her  adversaries,  but  her  bearing  is  de- 
scribed as  being  "  full  of  grace."  Mr.  Redding, 
who  had  read  twenty  or  thirty  of  this  lady's  letters, 
tells  us  that  they  showed  a  good  education  in 
the  writer. 

A  writer  who  was  present  during  her  examina- 
tion before  the  House  of  Commons,  has  pleasantly 
described  the  singular  scene.  "  I  was,"  he  says,  "  in 
the  House  of  Commons  when  Mary  Anne  Clark 
first  made  her  appearance  at  the  bar,  dressed  in 
her  light-blue  pelisse,  light  muff  and  tippet.  She 
was  a  pretty  woman,  rather  of  a  slender  make.  It 
was  debated  whether  she  should  have  a  chair ;  this 
occasioned  a  hubbub,  and  she  was  asked  who  the 


person  with  her  deeply  veiled  was.  She  replied 
that  she  was  her  friend.  The  lady  was  instantly 
ordered  to  withdraw,  then  a  chair  was  ordered  for 
Mrs.  Clark,  and  she  seemed  to  pluck  up  courage, 
for  when  she  was  asked  about  the  particulars  of 
an  annuity  promised  to  be  settled  on  her  by 
the  Duke  of  York,  she  said,  pointing  with  her 
hand,  *  You  may  ask  Mr.  William  Adam  there, 
as  he  knows  all  about  it'  She  was  asked  if  she 
was  quite  certain  that  General  Clavering  ever  was 
at  any  of  her  parties  ;  she  replied,  '  So  certain,  that 
I  always  told  him  he  need  not  use  any  ceremony, 
but  come  in  his  boots.'  It  will  be  remembered 
that  General  C.  was  sent  to  Newgate  for  prevarica- 
tion on  that  account,  no^  having  7-ecoUected  in  time 
this  circumstance. 

"  Perceval  fought  the  battle  manfully.  The 
Duke  of  York  could  not  be  justified  for  some  of 
his  acts — for  instance,  giving  a  footboy  of  Mrs. 
Clark's  a  commission  in  the  army,  and  allowing 
an  improper  influence  to  be  exerted  over  him  in  his 
thoughtless  moments ;  but  that  the  trial  originated 
in  pique  and  party  spirit,  there  can  be  no  doubt ; 
and,  as  he  justly  merited.  Colonel  Wardle,  the 
prosecutor  in  the  case,  sunk  into  utter  oblivion, 
whilst  the  Duke  of  York,  the  soldier's  friend  and 
the  beloved  of  the  army,  was,  after  a  short  period 
(having  been  superseded  by  Sir  David  Dundas), 
replaced  as  commander-in-chief,  and  died  deeply 
regretted  and  fully  meriting  the  colossal  statue 
erected  to  him,  with  his  hand  pointing  to  the 
Horse  Guards." 

Cardinal  Wolsey  lived,  at  some  period  of  his 
extraordinary  career,  in  a  house  in  Chancery  Lane, 
at  the  Holborn  end,  and  on  the  east  side,  opposite 
the  Six  Clerks'  Office.  We  do  not  know  what  rank 
the  proud  favourite  held  at  this  time,  whether  he 
was  almoner  to  the  king,  privy  councillor.  Canon 
of  Windsor,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  Archbishop  of  York, 
or  Cardinal  of  the  Cecilia.  We  like  to  think  that 
down  that  dingy  legal  lane  he  rode  on  his  way  to 
Westminster  Hall,  with  all  that  magnificence  de- 
scribed by  his  faithful  gentleman  usher.  Cavendish. 
He  would  come  out  of  his  chamber,  we  read,  about 
eight  o'clock  in  his  cardinal's  robes  of  scarlet  taffeta 
and  crimson  satin,  with  a  black  velvet  tippet  edged 
with  sable  round  his  neck,  holding  in  his  hand  an 
orange  filled  with  a  sponge  containing  aromatic 
vinegar,  in  case  the  crowd  of  suitors  should  in 
commode  him.  Before  him  was  borne  the  broad 
seal  of  England,  and  the  scarlet  cardinal's  hat.  A 
sergeant-at-arms  preceded  him  bearing  a  great  mace 
of  silver,  and  two  gentlemen  carrying  silver  plates. 
At  the  hall-door  he  mounted  his  mule,  trapped 
with   crimson   and   having  a  saddle  covered  with. 


8: 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


'  Fleet  Street,  Tributaries. 


crimson  velvet,  while  the  gentlemen  ushers,  bare- 
headed, cried, — "  On,  masters,  before,  and  make 
room  for  my  lord  cardinal."  When  Wolsey  was 
mounted  he  was  preceded  by  his  two  cross-bearers 
and  his  two  pillow-bearers,  all  upon  horses  trapped 
in  scarlet ;  and  four  footmen  with  pole-axes  guarded 
the  cardinal  till  he  came  to  Westminster.  And 
every  Sunday,  when  he  repaired  to  the  king's  court 
at  Greenwich,  he  landed  at  the  Three  Cranes,  in 
the  Vintrey,  and  took  water  again  at  Billingsgate. 
"  He  had,"  says  Cavendish,  "  a  long  season,  ruling 
all  things  in  the  realm  appertaining  to  the  king,  by 
his  wisdom,  and  all  other  matters  of  foreign  regions 
with  whom  the  king  had  any  occasion  to  meddle, 
and  then  he  fell  like  Lucifer,  never  to  rise  again. 
Here,"  says  Cavendish,  "  is  the  end  and  fall  of 
pride ;  for  I  assure  you  he  was  in  his  time  the 
proudest  man  alive,  having  more  regard  to  the 
honour  of  his  person  than  to  his  spiritual  functions^ 
wherein  he  should  have  expressed  more  meekness 
and  humility." 

One  of  the  greatest  names  connected  with  Chan- 
cery Lane  is  that  of  the  unfortunate  Wentworth, 
Earl  of  Strafford,  who,  after  leading  his  master, 
Charles  L,  on  the  path  to  the  scaffold,  was  the  first 
to  lay  his  head  upon  the  block.  Wentworth,  the 
son  of  a  Yorkshire  gentleman,  was  born  in  1593 
in  Chancery  Lane,  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Atkinson, 
his  maternal  grandfather,  a  bencher  of  Lincoln's 
Inn.  At  first  an  enemy  of  Buckingham,  the  king's 
favourite,  and  opposed  to  the  Court,  he  was  won  over 
by  a  peerage  and  the  counsels  of  his  friend  Lord 
Treasurer  Weston.  He  soon  became  a  headlong 
and  unscrupulous  advocate  of  arbitrary  power,  and, 
as  Lord  Deputy  of  Ireland,  did  his  best  to  raise  an 
army  for  the  king  and  to  earn  his  Court  name  of 
"  Thorough."  Impeached  for  high  treason,  and 
accused  by  Sir  Henry  Vane  of  a  design  to  subdue 
England  by  force,  he  was  forsaken  by  the  weak 
king  and  condemned  to  the  block.  "  Put  not 
your  trust  in  princes,"  he  said,  when  he  heard  of 
the  king's  consent  to  the  execution  of  so  faithful  a 
servant,  "  nor  in  any  child  of  man,  for  in  them  is 
no  salvation."  He  died  on  Tower  Hill,  with  calm 
and  undaunted  courage,  expressing  his  devotion  to 
the  Church  of  England,  his  loyalty  to  the  king, 
and  his  earnest  desire  for  the  peace  and  welfare  of 
the  kingdom. 

Of  this  steadfast  and  dangerous  man  Clarendon 
has  left  one  of  those  Titianesque  portraits  in  which 
he  excelled.  "  He  was  a  man,"  says  the  historian, 
"of  great  parts  and  extraordinary  endowment  of 
nature,  and  of  great  observation  and  a  piercing 
judgment  both  into  things  and  persons  ;  but  his 
too  good  skill    in  persons   made  him  judge    the 


worse  of  things,  and  so  that  upon  the  matter  he 
wholly  relied  upon  himself;  and  discerning  many 
defects  in  most  men,  he  too  much  neglected  what 
they  said  or  did.  Of  all  his  passions  his  pride 
was  most  predominant,  which  a  moderate  exercise 
of  ill  fortune  might  have  corrected  and  reformed ; 
and  which  was  by  the  hand  of  Heaven  strangely 
punished  by  bringing  his  destruction  on  him  by 
two  things  that  he  most  despised — the  people  and 
Sir  Harry  Vane.  In  a  word,  the  epitaph  which 
Plutarch  records  that  Sylla  wrote  for  himself  may 
not  be  unfitly  applied  to  him — *  that  no  man  did 
ever  pass  him  either  in  doing  good  to  his  friends 
or  in  doing  harm  to  his  enemies.' " 

Izaak  Walton,  that  amiable  old  angler,  lived  for 
some  years  (1627  to  1644)  of  his  happy  and  con- 
tented life  in  a  house  (No.  120)  on  the  west  side  of 
Chancery  Lane  (Fleet  Street  end).  This  was  many 
years  before  he  published  his  "  Complete  Angler," 
which  did  not,  indeed,  appear  till  the  year  before 
the  Restoration.  Yet  we  imagine  that  at  this  time 
the  honest  citizen  often  sallied  forth  to  the  Lea 
banks  with  his  friends,  the  Roes,  on  those  fine 
cool  May  mornings  upon  which  he  expatiates  so 
pleasantly.  A  quiet  man  and  a  lover  of  peace  was 
old  Izaak ;  and  we  may  be  sure  no  jingle  of  money 
ever  hurried  him  back  from  the  green  fields  where 
the  lark,  singing  as  she  ascended  higher  and  higher 
into  the  air,  and  nearer  to  the  heavens,  excelled,  as 
he  says,  in  her  simple  piety  "  all  those  little  nimble 
musicians  of  the  air  (her  fellows)  who  warble  forth 
their  various  ditties  with  which  Nature  has  fur- 
nished them,  to  the  shame  of  art."  Refreshed  and 
exhilarated  by  the  pure  country  air,  we  can  fancy 
Walton  returning  homeward  to  his  Chancery  Lane 
shop,  humming  to  himself  that  fine  old  song  of 
Marlowe's  which  the  milkmaid  sung  to  him  as  he  sat 
under  the  honeysuckle-hedge  out  of  the  shower, — 

"Come  live  with  me  and  be  my  love, 
And  we  will  all  the  pleasures  prove 
That  valleys,  groves,  or  hills,  or  field, 
Or  woods,  or  steepy  mountain,  yield." 

How  Byron  had  the  heart  to  call  a  man  who 
loved  such  simple  pleasures,  and  was  so  guileless 
and  pure-hearted  as  Walton,  "a  cruel  old  coxcomb," 
and  to  wish  that  in  his  gullet  he  had  a  hook,  and 
"  a  strong  trout  to  pull  it,"  we  never  could  under- 
stand ;  but  Byron  was  no  angler,  and  we  suppose 
he  thought  Walton's  advice  about  sewing  up  frogs' 
mouths,  &c.,  somewhat  hard-hearted. 

North,  in  his  life  of  that  faithful  courtier  of 
Charles  II.,  Lord  Keeper  Guildford,  mentions  that 
his  lordship  "settled  himself  in  the  great  brick 
house  in  Serjeants'  Inn,  near  Chancery  Lane,  which 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


THE   ''HOLE   IN  THE  WALL." 


«3 


was  formerly  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  Hyde's,  and 
tliat  he  held  it  till  he  had  the  Great  Seal,  and  some 
time  after.  When  his  lordship  lived  in  this  house, 
before  his  lady  began  to  want  her  health,  he  was 
in  the  height  of  all  the  felicity  his  nature  was 
capable  of  He  had  a  seat  in  St.  Dunstan's  Church 
appropriated  to  him,  and  constantly  kept  the 
church  in  the  mornings,  and  so  his  house  was  to 
his  mind ;  and  having,  with  leave,  a  door  into 
Serjeants'  Inn  garden,  he  passed  daily  with  ease 
to  his  chambers,  dedicated  to  business  and  study. 
His  friends  he  enjoyed  at  home,  and  politic  ones 
often  found  him  out  at  his  chambers."  He  rebuilt 
Serjeants'  Inn  Hall,  which  had  become  poor  and 
ruinous,  and  improved  all  the  dwellings  in  Chancery 
Lane  from  Jackanapes  Alley  down  to  Fleet  Street. 
He  also  drained  the  street  for  the  first  time,  and 
had  a  rate  levied  on  the  unwilling  inhabitants,  after 
whiclr  his  at  first  reluctant  neighbours  thanked 
him  warmly.  This  same  Lord  Keeper,  a  time-server 
and  friend  of  arbitrary  power,  according  to  Burnet, 
seems  to  have  been  a  learned  and  studious  man, 
for  he  encouraged  the  sale  of  barometers  and 
wrote  a  philosophical  essay  on  music.  It  was  this 
timid  courtier  that  unscrupulous  Jeffreys  vexed  by 
spreading  a  report  that  he  had  been  seen  riding 
on  a  rhinoceros,  then  one  of  the  great  sights  of 
London.  Jeffre)'s  was  at  the  time  hoping  to  super- 
sede the  Lord  Keeper  in  office,  and  was  anxious  to 
cover  him  with  ridicule. 

Besides  the  Caesars,  Cecils,  Throckmortons, 
Lincolns,  Sir  John  Franklin,  and  Edward  Reeve, 
who,  according  to  Mr.  Noble,  all  resided  in  Chan- 
cery Lane,  when  it  was  a  fashionable  legal  quarter, 
we  must  not  forget  that  on  the  site  of  No.  115 
lived  Sir  Richard  Fanshawe,  the  ambassador  sent 
by  Charles  II.  to  arrange  his  marriage  with  the 
Portuguese  princess.  This  accomplished  man, 
who  translated  Guarini's  "Pastor  Fido,"  and  the 
"  Lusiad"  of  Camoens,  died  at  Madrid  in  1666.  His 
brave  yet  gentle  wife,  who  wrote  some  interesting 
memoirs,  gives  a  graphic  account  of  herself  and 
her  husband  taking  leave  of  his  royal  master, 
Charles  I.,  at  Hampton  Court.  At  parting,  the 
king  saluted  her,  and  she  prayed  God  to  preserve 
his  majesty  with  long  life  and  happy  years.  The 
king  stroked  her  on  the  cheek,  and  said,  "  Child, 
if  God  pleaseth,  it  shall  be  so ;  but  both  you  and  I 
must  submit  to  God's  will,  for  you  know  whose 
hands  I  am  in."  Then  turning  to  Sir  Richard, 
Charles  said,  "Be  sure,  Dick,  to  tell  my  son  all 
that  I  have  said,  and  deliver  these  letters  to  my 
wife.  Pray  God  bless  her ;  and  I  hope  I  shall  do 
well."  Then,  embracing  Sir  Richard,  the  king 
added,  "  Thou  hast  ever  been  an  honest  man,  and 


I  hope  God  will  bless  thee,  and  make  thee  a 
happy  servant  to  my  son,  whom  I  have  charged  iu 
my  letter  to  continue  his  love  and  trust  to  you ; 
and  I  do  promise  you,  if  I  am  ever  restored  to 
my  dignity,  I  will  bountifully  reward  you  both  for 
your  services  and  sufferings."  "  Thus,"  says  the 
noble  Royalist  lady,  enthusiastically,  "  did  we  part 
from  that  glorious  sun  that  within  a  few  months 
after  was  extinguished,  to  the  grief  of  all  Christians 
who  are  not  forsaken  of  their  God." 

No.  45  (east  side)  is  the  "  Hole  in  the  Wall " 
Tavern,  kept  early  in  the  century  by  Jack  Randal, 
a/ias  "Nonpareil,"  afighting  man,  whom  Tom  Moore 
visited,  says  Mr.  Noble,  to  get  materials  for  his 
"  Tom  Cribb's  Memorial  to  Congress,"  "  Randal's 
Diary,"  and  other  satirical  poems.  Hazlitt,  when 
living  in  Southampton  Buildings,  describes  going 
to  this  haunt  of  the  fancy  the  night  before  the 
great  fight  between  Neate,  the  Bristol  butcher, 
and  Hickman,  the  gas-man,  to  find  out  where  the 
encounter  was  to  take  place,  although  Randal  had 
once  rather  too  forcibly  expelled  him  for  some 
trifling  complaint  about  a  chop.  Hazlitt  went 
down  to  the  fight  with  Thurtell,  the  betting  man, 
who  afterwards  murdered  Mr.  Weare,  a  gambler 
and  bill-discounter  of  Lyon's  Inn.  In  Byron's 
early  days  taverns  like  Randal's  were  frequented  by 
all  the  men  about  town,  who  considered  that  to 
wear  bird's-eye  handkerchiefs  and  heavy-caped  box 
coats  was  the  height  of  manliness  and  fashion. 

Chichester  Rents,  a  sorry  place  now,  preserves 
a  memory  of  the  site  of  the  town-house  of  the 
Bishops  of  Chichester.  It  was  originally  built  in  a 
garden  belonging  to  one  John  Herberton,  granted 
the  bishops  by  Henry  HI.,  who  excepted  it  out  of 
the  charter  of  the  Jew  converts'  house,  now  the 
Rolls  Chapel. 

Serjeants'  Inn,  originally  designed  for  Serjeants 
alone,  is  now  open  to  all  students,  though  it  still 
more  especially  affects  the  Freres  Serjens,  or  Fratres 
Servientes,  who  derived  their  name  originally  from 
being  the  lower  grade  or  servitors  of  the  Knights 
Templars,  Serjeants  still  address  each  other  as 
"  brother,"  and  indeed,  as  far  as  Cain  and  Abel  go, 
the  brotherhood  of  lawyers  cannot  be  disputed. 
The  old  formula  at  Westminster,  when  a  new 
Serjeant  approached  the  judges,  was,  "  I  think  I 
see  a  brother." 

One  of  Chaucer's  Canterbury  pilgrims  was  a 
"Serjeant  of  law."  This  inn. dates  back  as  early 
as  the  reign  of  Henry  IV.,  when  it  was  held 
under  a  lease  from  the  Bishop  of  Ely.  In  1442  a 
William  Antrobus,  citizen  and  taylor  of  London, 
held  it  at  the  rent  of  ten  marks  a  year.  In  the  hall 
windows  are  emblazoned  the  arms  of  Lord  Keeper 


^4 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


Guildford  (16S4).  The  inn  was  rebuilt,  all  but 
the  old  dining-hall,  by  Sir  Robert  Sniirke,  in  the 
years  1837-38. 

The  humours  of  Southampton  Buildings,  Chan- 
cery Lane,  have  been  admirably  described  by 
Hazlitt,  and  are    well  condensed  by  a   contem- 


essayist,  fine-art  and  theatrical  critic,  thoughtful 
metaphysician,  and  miserable  man,  William  Hazlitt. 
He  lodged  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Walker,  a  tailor, 
who  was  blessed  with  two  fair  daughters,  with 
one  of  whom  (Sarah)  Hazlitt,  then  a  married  man, 
fell  madly  in  love.     He  declared  she  was  like  the 


OLD  SERJEANTS'   INN   {see  pa£C  2,t,). 


poraneous  writer,  of  whose  labours  we  gratefully 
avail  ourselves. 

"In  1820  a  ray  of  light  strikes  the  Buildings, 
for  one  of  the  least  popular,  but  by  no  means  the 
least  remarkable,  of  the  Charles  Lamb  set  came  to 
lodge  at  No.  9,  half-way  down  on  the  right-hand  side 
as  you  come  from  Holborn.  There  for  four  years 
lived,  taught,  wrote.,  and  suffered  that  admirable 


Madonna  (she  seems  really  to  have  been  a  cold, 
calculating  flirt,  rather  afraid  of  her  wild  lover). 
To  his  '  Liber  Amoris,'  a  most  stultifying  series  of 
dialogues  between  himself  and  the  lodging-house 
keeper's  daughter,  the  author  appended  a  drawing 
of  an  antique  gem  (Lucretia),  which  he  declared  to 
be  the  very  image  of  the  obdurate  tailor's  daugiiter. 
This  untoward  but  remarkably  gifted  man,  whom 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


A  CLUB   BORE. 


85 


Lamb  admired,  if  he  did  not  love,  and  whom 
Leigh  Hunt  regarded  as  a  spirit  highly  en- 
dowed, usually  spent  his  evenings  at  the  'South- 
ampton;' as  we  take  it,  that  coffee-house  on  the 
left  hand,  next  the  Patent  Office,  as  you  enter  the 
Buildings  from  Chancery  Lane.  It  is  an  unpre- 
tending public-house  now,  with  the  quiet,  bald- 
iooking  coffee-room  altered,  but  still  one  likes  to 


admired  by  William,  the  sleek,  neat  waiter  (who 
had  a  music-master  to  teach  him  the  flageolet  two 
hours  every  morning  before  the  maids  were  up), 
for  his  temper  in  managing  an  argument.  Mr. 
Kirkpatrick  was  one  or  those  bland,  simpering, 
self-complacent  men,  who,  unshakable  from  the 
high  tower  of  their  own  self-satisfaction,  look 
down  upon  your  arguments  from  their  magnificent 


HAZLITT  (see  page  87). 


wander  past  the  place  and  think  that  Hazlitt,  his 
hand  still  warm  with  the  grip  of  Lamb's,  has 
entered  it  often.  In  an  essay  on  'Coffee-House 
Politicians,'  in  the  second  volume  of  his  '  Table 
Talk,'  Hazlitt  has  sketched  the  coterie  at  the 
'  Southampton,'  in  a  manner  not  unworthy  of  Steele. 
The  picture  wants  Sir  Richard's  mellow,  Jan  Steen 
colour,  but  it  possesses  much  of  Wilkie's  dainty 
touch  and  keen  appreciation  of  character.  Let  us  call 
up,  he  says,  the  old  customers  at  the  '  Southampton' 
from  the  dead,  and  take  a  glass  with  them.  First 
of  all  comes  Mr.  George  Kirkpatrick,  who  was 
8 


elevation.  *  I  will  explain,*  was  his  condescending 
phrase.  If  you  corrected  the  intolerable  magnifico, 
he  corrected  your  correction ;  if  you  hinted  at  an 
obvious  blunder,  he  was  always  aware  what  your 
mistaken  objection  would  be.  He  and  his  clique 
would  spend  a  whole  evening  on  a  wager  as  to 
whether  the  first  edition  of  Dr.  Johnson's  'Dic- 
tionary' was  quarto  or  folio.  The  confident  asser- 
tions, the  cautious  ventures,  the  length  of  time 
demanded  to  ascertain  the  fact,  the  precise 
terms  of  the  forfeit,  the  provisoes  for  getting  out 
of  paying  it  at  last,  led  to  a  long  and  inextricable 


86 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Trlbutajfies. 


discussion.  Kirkpatrick's  vanity,  however,  one 
night  led  him  into  a  terrible  pitfall.  He  recklessly- 
ventured  money  on  the  fact  that  The  Mourning 
Bride  was  written  by  Shakespeare;  headlong  he 
fell,  and  ruefully  he  partook  of  the  bowl  of  punch 
for  which  he  had  to  pay.  As  a  rule  his  nightly 
outlay  seldom  exceeded  sevenpence.  Four  hours' 
good  conversation  for  sevenpence  made  the  '  South- 
ampton' the  cheapest  of  London  clubs. 

"  Kirkpatrick's  brother  Roger  was  the  Mercutio 
to  his  Shallow.  Roger  was  a  rare  fellow,  *  of  the 
driest  humour  and  the  nicest  tact,  of  infinite  sleights 
and  evasions,  of  a  picked  phraseology,  and  the 
very  soul  of  mimicry.'  He  had  the  mind  of  a 
harlequin  ;  his  wit  was  acrobatic,  and  threw  somer- 
saults. He  took  in  a  character  at  a  glance,  and 
threw  a  pun  at  you  as  dexterously  as  a  fly-fisher 
casts  his  fly  over  a  trout's  nose.  *  How  finely,' 
says  Hazlitt,  in  his  best  and  heartiest  mood ;  *  how 
finely,  how  truly,  how  gaily  he  took  off"  the  company 
at  the  "Southampton!"  Poor  and  faint  are  my 
sketches  compared  to  his !  It  was  like  looking 
into  a  camera-obscura — you  saw  faces  shining  and 
speaking.  The  smoke  curled,  the  lights  dazzled, 
the  oak  wainscoting  took  a  higher  poHsh.  There 
was  old  S.,  tall  and  gaunt,  with  his  couplet  from 
Pope  and  case  at  Nisi  Prius  ;  Mudford,  eyeing  the 
ventilator  and  lying  perdu  for  a  moral ;  and  H.  and 
A.  taking  another  friendly  finishing  glass.  These 
and  many  more  windfalls  of  character  he  gave  us 
in  thought,  word,  and  action.  I  remember  his 
once  descrijjing  three  different  persons  together  to 
myself  and  Martin  Burney  [a  bibulous  nephew  of 
Madame  d'Arblay's  and  a  great  friend  of  Charles 
Lamb's],  namely,  the  manager  of  a  country  theatre, 
a  tragic  and  a  comic  performer,  till  we  were  ready 
to  tumble  on  the  floor  with  laughing  at  the  oddity 
of  their  humours,  and  at  Roger's  extraordinary 
powers  of  ventriloquism,  bodily  and  mental ;  and 
Burney  said  (such  was  the  vividness  of  the  scene) 
that  when  he  awoke  the  next  morning  he  wondered 
what  three  amusing  characters  he  had  been  in 
company  with  the  evening  before.'  He  was  fond 
also  of  imitating  old  Mudford,  of  the  Courier,  a  fat, 
pert,  dull  man,  who  had  left  the  Morning  Chronicle 
in  1814,  just  as  Hazlitt  joined  it,  and  was  renowned 
for  having  written  a  reply  to  '  Coelebs.'  He  would 
enter  a  room,  fold  up  his  great-coat,  take  out  a 
little  pocket  volume,  lay  it  down  to  think,  rubbing 
all  the  time  the  fleshy  calf  of  his  leg  with  dull 
gravity  and  intense  and  stolid  self-complacency, 
and  start  out  of  his  reveries  when  addressed  with 
the  same  inimitable  vapid  exclamation  of  '  Eh  !' 
Dr.  Whittle,  a  large,  plain-faced  Moravian  preacher, 
who  had   turned  physician,   was   another   of   his 


chosen  impersonations.  Roger  represented  the 
honest,  vain,  empty  man  purchasing  an  ounce  of 
tea  by  stratagem  to  astonish  a  favoured  guest ;  he 
portrayed  him  on  the  summit  of  a  narrow,  winding, 
and  very  steep  staircase,  contemplating  in  airy 
security  the  imaginary  approach  of  duns.  This 
worthy  doctor  on  one  occasion,  when  watching 
Sarratt,  the  great  chess-player,  turned  suddenly  to 
Hazlitt,  and  said,  *I  think  I  could  dance.  I'm 
sure  I  could;  aye,  I  could  dance  like  Vestris.' 
Such  were  the  odd  people  Roger  caricatured  on 
the  memorable  night  he  pulled  off"  his  coat  to  eat 
beef-steaks  on  equal  terms  with  Martin  Burney. 

"Then  there  was  C,  who,  from  his  slender  neck, 
shrillness  of  voice,  and  his  ever-ready  quibble  and 
laugh  at  himself,  was  for  some  time  taken  for  a 
lawyer,  with  which  folk  the  Buildings  were  then, 
as  now,  much  infested.  But  on  careful  inquiry 
he  turned  out  to  be  a  patent-medicine  seller,  who 
at  leisure  moments  had  studied  Blackstone  and 
the  statutes  at  large  from  mere  sympathy  with  the 
neighbourhood.  E.  came  next,  a  rich  tradesman, 
Tory  in  grain,  and  an  everlasting  babbler  on  the 
strong  side  of  politics ;  querulous,  dictatorial,  and 
with  a  peevish  whine  in  his  voice  like  a  beaten 
schoolboy.  He  was  a  stout  advocate  for  the  Bour- 
bons and  the  National  Debt,  and  was  duly  disliked 
by  Hazlitt,  we  may  feel  assured.  The  Bourbons 
he  affirmed  to  be  the  choice  of  the  French  people, 
the  Debt  necessary  to  the  salvation  of  these  king- 
doms. To  a  little  inoffensive  man,  *  of  a  saturnine 
aspect  but  simple  conceptions,'  Hazlitt  once  heard 
him  say  grandly,  '  I  will  tell  you,  sir.  I  will  make 
my  proposition  so  clear  that  you  will  be  convinced 
of  the  truth  of  my  observation  in  a  moment.  Con- 
sider, sir,  the  number  of  trades  that  would  be 
thrown  out  of  employ  if  the  Debt  were  done  away 
with.  What  would  become  of  the  porcelain  manu- 
facture without  it?'  He  would  then  show  the 
company  a  flower,  the  production  of  his  own 
garden,  calling  it  a  unique  and  curious  exotic,  and 
hold  forth  on  his  carnations,  his  country-house,  and 
his  old  English  hospitality,  though  he  never  invited 
a  friend  to  come  down  to  a  Sunday's  dinner. 
Mean  and  ostentatious,  insolent  and  servile,  he 
did  not  know  whether  to  treat  those  he  conversed 
with  as  if  they  were  his  porters  or  his  customers. 
The  'prentice  boy  was  not  yet  ground  out  of  him, 
and  his  imagination  hovered  between  his  grand 
new  country  mansion  and  the  workhouse.  Opposed 
to  him  and  every  one  else  was  K.,  a  Radical  re- 
former and  tedious  logician,  who  wanted  to  make 
short  work  of  the  taxes  and  National  Debt,  recon- 
struct the  Government  from  first  principles,  and 
shatter  the  Holy  Alliance  at  a  blow.     He  was  for 


Fleet  Street  Tribuuries.]         THE    WORTHIES    OF   THE    "SOUTHAMPTON." 


87 


crushing  out  the  future  prospects  of  society  as  with 
a  machine,  and  for  starting  where  the  French 
Revolution  had  begun  five-and-twenty  years  before. 
He  was  a  born  disturber,  and  never  agreed  to 
more  than  half  a  proposition  at  a  time.  Being 
very  stingy,  he  generally  brought  a  bunch  of 
radishes  with  him  for  economy,  and  would  give  a 
penny  to  a  band  of  musicians  at  the  door,  observing 
that  he  liked  their  performance  better  than  all  the 
opera-squalling.  His  objections  to  the  National 
Debt  arose  from  motives  of  personal  economy; 
and  he  objected  to  Mr.  Canning's  pension  because 
it  took  a  farthing  a  year  out  of  his  own  pocket. 

"Another  great  sachem  at  the  'Southampton' 
was  Mr.  George  Mouncey,  of  the  firm  of  Mouncey 
&:  Gray,  solicitors.  Staple's  Inn.  'He  was,'  says 
Hazlitt,  'the  oldest  frequenter  of  the  place  and 
the  latest  sitter-up ;  well-informed,  unobtrusive,  and 
that  sturdy  old  English  character,  a  lover  of  truth 
and  justice.  Mouncey  never  approved  of  anything 
unfair  or  illiberal,  and,  though  good-natured  and 
gentleman-like,  never  let  an  absurd  or  unjust  pro- 
position pass  him  without  expressing  dissent.'  He 
was  much  liked  by  Hazlitt,  for  they  had  mutual 
friends,  and  Mouncey  had  been  intimate  with  most 
of  the  wits  and  men  about  town  for  twenty  years 
before.  '  He  had  in  his  time  known  Tobin, 
Wordsworth,  Person,  Wilson,  Paley,  and  Erskine. 
He  would-  speak  of  Paley's  pleasantry  and  un- 
assuming manners,  and  describe  Person's  deep 
potations  and  long  quotations  at  the  "  Cider 
Cellars."'  Warming  with  his  theme,  Hazlitt  goes 
on  in  his  essay  to  etch  one  memorable  evening 
at  the  'Southampton.'  A  few  only  were  left,  'like 
stars  at  break  of  day,'  the  discourse  and  the  ale 
were  growing  sweeter ;  but  Mouncey,  Hazlitt,  and  a 
man  named  Wells,  alone  remained.  The  conversa- 
tion turned  on  the  frail  beauties  of  Charles  II.'s 
Court,  and  from  thence  passed  to  Count  Gram- 
mont,  their  gallant,  gay,  and  not  over-scrupulous 
historian.  Each  one  cited  his  favourite  passage 
in  turn;  from  Jacob  Hall,  the  rope-dancer,  they 
progressed  by  pleasant  stages  of  talk  to  pale  Miss 
Churchill  and  her  fortunate  fall  from  her  horse. 
Wells  then  spoke  of  'Apuleius  and  his  Golden 
Ass,'  'Cupid  and  Psyche,'  and  the  romance  of 
*  Heliodorus,  Theogenes,  and  Chariclea,'  which,  as 
he  affirmed,  opened  with  a  pastoral  landscape 
equal  to  one  of  Claude's.  '  The  night  waned,'  says 
the  delightful  essayist,  '  but  our  glasses  brightened, 
enriched  with  the  pearls  of  Grecian  story.  Our 
cup-bearer  slept  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  like 
another  Endymion,  in  the  pale  rays  of  a  half- 
extinguished  lamp,  and,  starting  up  at  a  fresh 
summons  for  a  further   supply,  he   swore   it   was 


too  late,  and  was  inexorable  to  entreaty.  Mouncey 
sat  with  his  hat  on  and  a  hectic  flush  in  his  face 
while  any  hope  remained,  but  as  soon  as  we  rose 
to  go,  he  dashed  out  of  the  room  as  quick  as 
lightning,  determined  not  to  be  the  last.  I  said 
some  time  after  to  the  waiter  that  "  Mr,  Mouncey 
was  no  flincher."  "  Oh,  sir*!"  says  he,  "  you  should 
have  known  him  formerly.  Now  he  is  quite  another 
man :  he  seldom  stays  later  than  one  or  two ;  then 
he  used  to  help  sing  catches,  and  all  sorts." ' 

"  It  was  at  the  'Southampton'  that  George  Cruik- 
shank,  Hazlitt,  and  Hone  used  to  often  meet,  to 
discuss  subjects  for  Hone's  squibs  on  the  Queen's 
trial  (1820).  Cruikshank  would  sometimes  dip  his 
finger  in  ale  and  sketch  a  suggestion  on  the  table. 

"While  living  in  that  state  of  half- assumed 
love  frenzy  at  No.  9,  Southampton  Buildings,  Haz- 
litt produced  some  of  his  best  work.  His  noble 
lectures  on  the  age  of  Elizabeth  had  just  been 
delivered,  and  he  was  writing  for  the  Ediiibiirgh 
Review,  the  New  Monthly,  and  the  London  Maga 
zine,  in  conjunction  with  Charles  Lamb,  Reynolds, 
Barry  Cornwall,  De  Quincey,  and  Wainwright 
('Janus  Weathercock')  the  poisoner.  In  1821  he 
published  his  volume  of  '  Dramatic  Criticisms,' 
and  his  subtle  'Table  Talk;'  in  1823,  his  foolish 
'  Liber  Amoris ;'  and  in  1824,  his  fine  '  Sketches  of 
the  Principal  English  Picture  Galleries.' 

"Hazhtt,  who  was  born  in  1778  and  died  in 
1830,  was  the  son  of  a  Unitarian  minister  of  Irish 
descent.  Hazlitt  was  at  first  intended  for  an  artist, 
but,  coming  to  London,  soon  drifted  into  Hterature. 
He  became  a  parliamentary  reporter  to  the  Mortting 
Chronicle  in  18 13,  and  in  that  wearing  occupation 
injured  his  naturally  weak  digestion.  In  18 14  he 
succeeded  Mudford  as  theatrical  critic  on  Perry's 
paper.  In  181 5  he  joined  the  Champion,  and  in 
r8i8  wrote  for  the  Yellow  Dwarf.  Hazlitt's  habits 
at  No.  9  were  enough  to  have  killed  a  rhinoceros. 
He  sat  up  half  the  night,  and  rose  about  one  or 
two.  He  then  remained  drinking  the  strongest 
black  tea,  nibbling  a  roll,  and  reading  (no  appe- 
tite, of  course)  till  about  five  p.m.  At  supper  at  the 
'Southampton,'  his  jaded  stomach  then  rousing, 
he  ate  a  heavy  meal  of  steak  or  game,  frequently 
drinking  during  his  long  and  suicidal  vigils  three 
or  four  quarts  of  water.  Wine  and  spirits  he  latterly 
never  touched.  Morbidly  self-conscious,  touchy, 
morose,  he  believed  that  his  aspect  and  manner 
were  strange  and  disagreeable  to  his  friends,  and 
that  every  one  was  perpetually  insulting  him.  He 
had  a  magnificent  forehead,  regular  features,  pale 
as  marble,  and  a  profusion  of  curly  black  hair,  but 
his  eyes  were  shy  and  suspicious.  His  manner 
when  not  at  his  ease  Mr.  P.  G.  Patmore  describes 


88 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  TribuUries. 


as  worthy  of  Apemantus  himself.  He  would  enter 
a  room  as  if  he  had  been  brought  in  in  custody. 
He  shuffled  sidelong  to  the  nearest  chair,  sat  down 
on  the  extreme  comer  of  it,  dropped  his  hat  on 
the  floor,  buried  his  chin  in  his  stock,  vented  his 
usual  pet  phrase  on  such  occasions,  '  It's  a  fine 
day,'  and  resigned  himsdf  moodily  to  social  misery. 
If  the  talk  did  not  suit  him,  he  bore  it  a  certain 
time,  silent,  self-absorbed,  as  a  man  condemned  to 
death,  then  suddenly,  with  a  brusque  '  Well,  good 
morning,'  shuffled  to  the  door  and  blundered  his 
way  out,  audibly  cursing  himself  for  his  folly  in 
voluntarily  making  himself  the  laughing-stock  of  an 
idiot's  critical  servants.  It  must  have  been  hard  to 
bear  with  such  a  man,  whatever  might  be  his  talent ; 
and  yet  his  dying  words  were,  *  I've  led  a  happy  life.' " 

That  delightful  humorist,  Lamb,  lived  in  South- 
ampton Buildings,  in  1800,  coming  from  Penton- 
ville,  and  moving  lo  Mitre  Court  Buildings,  Fleet 
Street.  Here,  then,  must  have  taken  place  some  of 
those  enjoyable  evenings  which  have  been  so 
pleasantly  sketched  by  Hazlitt,  one  of  the  most 
favoured  of  Lamb's  guests  : — 

"  At  Lamb's  we  used  to  have  lively  skirmishes, 
at  the  Thursday  evening  parties.  I  doubt  whether 
the  small-coal  man's  musical  parties  could  exceed 
them.  Oh,  for  the  pen  of  John  Buncle  to  con- 
secrate a  petit  souvenir  to  their  memory  !  There 
was  Lamb  himself,  the  most  delightful,  the  most 
provoking,  the  most  witty,  and  the  most  sensible  of 
men.  He  always  made  the  best  pun  and  the  best 
remark  in  the  course  of  the  evening.  His  serious 
conversation,  like  his  serious  writing,  is  the  best. 
No  one  ever  stammered  out  such  fine,  piquant, 
deep,  eloquent  things,  in  half-a-dozen  sentences,  as 
he  does.  His  jests  scald  like  tears,  and  he  probes 
a  question  with  a  play  upon  words.  What  a  keen- 
laughing,  hair-brained  vein  of  home-felt  truth  ! 
What  choice  venom  !  How  often  did  we  cut  into 
the  haunch  of  letters !  how  we  skimmed  the  cream 
of  criticism  !  How  we  picked  out  the  marrow  of 
authors  !  Need  I  go  over  the  names  ?  They  were 
but  the  old,  everlasting  set — Milton  and  Shakes- 
peare, Pope  and  Dryden,  Steele  and  Addison, 
Swift  and  Gay,  Fielding,  Smollet,  Sterne,  Richard- 
son, Hogarth's  prints,  Claude's  landscapes,  the 
Cartoons  at  Hampton  Court,  and  all  those  things 
that,  having  once  been,  must  ever  be.  The  Scotch 
novels  had  not  then  been  heard  of,  so  we  said 
nothing  about  them.  In  general  we  were  hard 
upon  the  moderns.  The  author  of  the  Jiafnbler 
was  only  tolerated  in  Boswell's  life  of  him ;  and  it 
was  as  much  as  anyone  could  do  to  edge  in  a  word 
for  Junius.  Lamb  could  not  bear  '  Gil  Bias ; '  this 
was  a  fault.     I  remember  the  greatest  triumph  I 


ever  had  was  in  persuading  him,  after  some  years' 
difficulty,  that  Fielding  was  better  than  Smollett. 
On  one  occasion  he  was  for  making  out  a  list  of 
persons  famous  in  history  that  one  would  wish  to 
see  again,  at  the  head  of  whom  were  Pontius  Pilate, 
Sir  Thomas  Browne,  and  Dr.  Faustus;  but  we 
black-balled  most  of  his  list.  But  with  what  a 
gusto  he  would  describe  his  favourite  authors, 
Donne  or  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  and  call  their  most 
crabbed  passages  delicious.  He  tried  them  on  his 
palate,  as  epicures  taste  olives,  and  his  observa- 
tions had  a  smack  in  them  like  a  roughness  on  the 
tongue.  With  what  discrimination  he  hinted  a 
defect  in  what  he  admired  most,  as  in  saying  the 
display  of  the  sumptuous  banquet  in  '  Paradise 
Regained'  was  not  in  true  keeping,  as  the  simplest 
fare  was  all  that  was  necessary  to  tempt  the  ex- 
tremity of  hunger,  and  stating  that  Adam  and  Eve, 
in  '  Paradise  Lost,'  were  too  much  like  married 
people.  He  has  furnished  many  a  text  for  Cole- 
ridge to  preach  upon.  There  was  no  fuss  or  cant 
about  him ;  nor  were  his  sweets  or  sours  ever 
diluted  with  one  particle  of  affectation." 

Towards  the  unhappy  close  of  Sheridan's  life, 
when  weighed  down  by  illness  and  debt  (he  had 
just  lost  the  election  at  Stafford,  and  felt  clouds 
and  darkness  gathering  closer  round  him),  he  was 
thrown  for  several  days  (about  1 8 1 4)  into  a  sponging- 
house  in  Tooke's  Court,  Cursitor  Street,  Chancery 
Lane.  Tom  Moore  describes  meeting  him  shortly 
before  with  Lord  Byron,  at  the  table  of  Rogers, 
and  some  days  after  Sheridan  burst  into  tears  on 
hearing  that  Byron  had  said  that  he  (Sheridan) 
had  Avritten  the  best  comedy,  the  best  operetta,  the 
best  farce,  the  best  address,  and  delivered  the  best 
oration  ever  produced  in  England.  Sheridan's  books 
and  pictures  had  been  sold ;  and  from  his  sordid 
prison  he  wrote  a  piteous  letter  to  his  kind  but 
severely  business-like  friend,  Whitbread,  the  brewer. 
"  I  have  done  everything,"  he  says,  "  to  obtain  my 
release,  but  in  vain;  and,  Whitbread,  putting  all 
false  professions  of  friendship  and  feeling  out  of 
the  question,  you  have  no  right  to  keep  me  here, 
for  it  is  in  truth  your  act ;  if  you  had  not  forcibly 
withheld  from  me  the  ;^i  2,000,  in  consequence  of 
a  letter  from  a  miserable  swindler,  whose  claim  you 
in  particular  know  to  be  a  lie,  I  should  at  least  have 
been  out  of  the  reach  of  this  miserable  insult ;  for 
that,  and  that  only,  lost  me  my  seat  in  Parliament." 

Even  in  the  depths  of  this  den,  however,  Sheri- 
dan still  remained  sanguine ;  and  when  Whitbread 
came  to  release  him,  he  found  him  confidently 
calculating  on  the  representation  of  Westminster, 
then  about  to  become  vacant  by  the  unjust  disgrace 
of  Lord  Cochrane.    On  his  return  home  to  his  wife, 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


A  SPONGING  HOUSE. 


89 


fortified  perhaps  by  wine,  Sheridan  burst  into  a  long 
and  passionate  fit  of  weeping,  at  the  profanation, 
as  he  termed  it,  which  his  person  had  suffered. 

In  Lord  Eldon's  youth,  when  he  was  simply 
plain  John  Scott,  of  the  Northern  Circuit,  he  lived 
with  the  pretty  little  wife  with  whom  he  had 
run  away,  in  very  frugal  and  humble  lodgings  in 
Cursitor  Street,  just  opposite  No.  2,  the  chained 
and  barred  door  of  Sloman's  sponging-house  (now 
the  Imperial  Club).  Here,  in  after  life  he  used  to 
boast,  although  his  struggles  had  really  been  very 
few,  that  he  used  to  run  out  into  Clare  Market  for 
sixpennyworth  of  sprats. 

Mr.  Disraeli,  in  "  Henrietta  Temple,"  an  early 
novel  written  in  the  Theodore  Hook  manner,  has 
sketched  Sloman's  with  a  remarkable  verve  and 
intimate  knowledge  of  the  place  : — 

"In  pursuance  of  this  suggestion.  Captain 
Armine  was  ushered  into  the  best  drawing-room 
with  barred  windows  and  treated  in  the  most  aris- 
tocratic manner.  It  was  evidently  the  chamber 
reserved  only  for  unfortunate  gentlemen  of  the 
utmost  distinction ;  it  was  simply  furnished  with 
a  mirror,  a  loo-table,  and  a  very  hard  sofa.  The 
walls  were  hung  with  old-fashioned  caricatures  by 
Bunbury ;  the  fire-irons  were  of  polished  brass  ', 
over  the  mantelpiece  was  the  portrait  of  the  master 
of  the  house,  which  was  evidently  a  speaking  like- 
ness, and  in  which  Captain  Armine  fancied  he 
traced  no  slight  resemblance  to  his  friend  Mr. 
Levison ;  and  there  were  also  some  sources  of 
literary  amusement  in  the  room,  in  the  shape  of  a 
Hebrew  Bible  and  the  Racing  Calendar. 

"After  walking  up  and  down  the  room  for  an 
hour,  meditating  over  the  past — for  it  seemed  hope- 
less to  trouble  himself  any  further  with  the  future 
— Ferdinand  began  to  feel  very  faint,  for  it  may 
be  recollected  that  he  had  not  even  breakfasted. 
So,  puUing  the  bell-rope  with  such  force  that  it  fell 
to  the  ground,  a  funny  little  waiter  immediately 
appeared,  awed  by  the  sovereign  ring,  and  having 
indeed  received  private  intelligence  from  the  bailiff 
that  the  gentleman  in  the  drawing-room  was  a 
regular  nob. 

"  And  here,  perhaps,  I  should  remind  the  reader 
that  of  all  the  great  distinctions  in  life  none, 
perhaps,  is  more  important  than  that  which  divides 
mankind  into  the  two  great  sections  of  nobs  and 
snobs.  It  might  seem  at  the  first  glance  that  if 
there  were  a  place  in  the  world  which  should  level 
all  distinctions,  it  would  be  a  debtors'  prison  ;  but 
this  would  be  quite  an  error.  Almost  at  the  very 
moment  that  Captain  Armine  arrived  at  his  sor- 
rowful hotel,  a  poor  devil  of  a  tradesman,  who  had 
been  arrested  for  fifty  pounds  and  torn  from  his 


wife  and  family,  had  been  forced  to  retire  to  the 
same  asylum.  He  was  introduced  into  what  is 
styled  the  coffee-room,  being  a  long,  low,  unfur- 
nished, sanded  chamber,  with  a  table  and  benches  ; 
and  being  very  anxious  to  communicate  with  some 
friend,  in  order,  if  possible,  to  effect  his  release, 
and  prevent  himself  from  being  a  bankrupt,  he  had 
continued  meekly  to  ring  at  intervals  for  the  last 
half-hour,  in  order  that  he  might  write  and  forward 
his  letter.  The  waiter  heard  the  coffee-room  bell 
ring,  but  never  dreamed  of  noticing  it ;  though  the 
moment  the  signal  of  the  private  room  sounded, 
and  sounded  with  so  much  emphasis,  he  rushed  up- 
stairs three  steps  at  a  time,  and  instantly  appeared 
before  our  hero  ;  and  all  this  difference  was  occa- 
sioned by  the  simple  circumstance  that  Captain 
Armine  was  a  nob,  and  the  poor  tradesman  a  snob. 
"  '  I  am  hungry,'  said  Ferdinand.  *  Can  I  get 
anything  to  eat  at  this  place  ? ' 

" '  What  would  you  like,  sir  ?  Anything  you 
choose,  sir — mutton  chop,  rump  steak,  weal  cutlet  ? 
Do  you  a  fowl  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour — roast  or 
boiled,  sir?' 

" '  I  have  not  breakfasted  yet ;  bring  me  some 
breakfast.' 

"  '  Yes,  sir, '  said  the  waiter.  *  Tea,  sir  ?  coffee, 
eggs,  toast,  buttered  toast,  sir?  Like  any  meat, 
sir  ?  ham,  sir  ?  tongue,  sir  ?  Like  a  devil,  sir  ? ' 
"  *  Anything — everything ;  only  be  quick.' 
"  *  Yes,  sir,'  responded  the  waiter.  *  Beg  par- 
don, sir.  No  offence,  I  hope;  but  custom  to 
pay  here,  sir.  Shall  be  happy  to  accommodate 
you,  sir.     Know  what  a  gentleman  is.' 

" '  Thank  you,  I  will  not  trouble  you,'  said  Fer- 
dinand.    '  Get  me  that  note  changed.' 

"  '  Yes,  sir,'  replied  the  little  waiter,  bowing  very 
low,  as  he  disappeared. 

" '  Gentleman  in  best  drawing-room  wants  break- 
fast. Gentleman  in  best  drawing-room  wants 
change  for  a  ten-pound  note.  Breakfast  imme- 
diately for  gentleman  in  best  drawing-room.  Tea, 
coffee,  toast,  ham,  tongue,  and  a  devil.  A  regular 
nob  ! ' " 

Sloman's  has  been  sketched  both  by  Mr. 
Disraeli  and  Mr.  Thackeray.  In  "Vanity  Fair" 
we  find  it  described  as  the  temporary  abode  of  the 
impecunious  Colonel  Crawley,  and  Moss  describes 
his  uncomfortable  past  and  present  guests  in  a 
manner  worthy  of  Fielding  himself  There  is  the 
"Honourable  Capting  Famish,  of  the  Fiftieth 
Dragoons,  whose  'mar'  had  just  taken  him  out 
after  a  fortnight,  jest  to  punish  him,  who  punished 
the  champagne,  and  had  a  party  every  night  of 
regular  tip-top  swells  down  from  the  clubs  at  the 
West  End ;  and  Capting  Ragg  and  the  Honourable 


90 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


IFleet  Street  Tributaries. 


Deuceace,  who  lived,  when  at  home,  in  the  Temple. 
There's  a  doctor  of  divinity  upstairs,  and  five 
gents  in  the  coffee-room  who  know  a  good  glass 
of  wine  when  they  see  it     There  is  a  tably  d'hote 


for  visitors,  and  a  dark-eyed  maid  in  curling-papers 
brings  in  the  tea." 

The   Law   Institute,  that  Grecian   temple   that 
has    wedged   itself   into    the    south-west    end   of 


at  half-past  five  in  the  front  parlour,  and  cards  and  i  Chancery   Lane,  was  built  in  the  stormy  year  of 
music  afterwards."     Moss's  house  of  durance  the  1  1830.     On  the  Lord  Mayor's  day  that  year  there 


Clifford's  inn  {see  f>age  g2). 


great  novelist  describes  as  splendid  with  dirty 
huge  old  gilt  cornices,  dingy  yellow  satin  hangings, 
while  the  barred-up  windows  contrasted  with  "vast 
and  oddly-gilt  picture-frames  surrounding  pieces 
sporting  and  sacred,  all  of  which  works  were  by  the 
greatest  masters,  and  fetched  the  greatest  prices, 
too,  in  the  bill  transactions,  in  the  course  of  which 
they  were  sold  and  bought  over  and  over  again. 
A  quick-eyed  Jew  boy  locks  and  unlocks  the  door 


was  a  riot ;  the  Reform  Bill  was  still  pending,  and 
it  was  feared  might  not  pass,  for  the  Lords  were 
foaming  at  the  mouth.  The  Iron  Duke  was  de- 
tested as  an  opposer  of  all  change,  good  or  bad ; 
the  new  police  were  distasteful  to  the  people  ; 
above  all,  there  was  no  Lord  Mayor's  show,  and 
no  man  in  brass  armour  to  look  at.  The  rioters 
assembled  outside  No.  62,  Fleet  Street,  were  there 
harangued  by  some  dirty-faced  demagogue,   and 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


THE   RIOT   OF   1830 


92 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


LFleet  Street  Tributaries, 


then  marched  westward.  At  Temple  Bar  the 
zealous  new  "  Peelers  "  slammed  the  old  muddy 
gates,  to  stop  the  threatening  mob;  but  the  City- 
Marshal,  red  in  the  face  at  this  breach  of  City 
privilege,  re-opened  them,  and  the  mob  roared 
approval  from  a  thousand  distorted  mouths.  The 
more  pugnacious  reformers  now  broke  the  scaffold- 
ing at  the  Law  Institute  into  dangerous  cudgels, 
and  some  300  of  the  unwashed  patriots  dashed 
through  the  Bar  towards  Somerset  House,  full  of 
vague  notions  of  riot,  and  perhaps  (delicious 
thought !)  plunder.  But  at  St.  Mary's,  Commissioner 
Mayne  and  his  men  in  the  blue  tail-coats  received 
the  roughs  in  battle  array,  and  at  the  first  charge 
the  coward  mob  broke  and  fled. 

In  1815,  No.  68,  Chancery  Lane,  not  far 
from  the  north-east  comer,  was  the  scene  of  an 
event  which  terminated  in  the  legal  murder  of  a 
young  and  innocent  girl.  It  was  here,  at  Olibar 
Turner's,  a  law  stationer's,  that  Eliza  Penning 
lived,  whom  we  have  already  mentioned  when  we 
entered  Hone's  shop,  in  Fleet  Street.  This  poor  girl, 
on  the  eve  of  a  happy  marriage,  was  hanged  at 
Newgate,  on  the  26th  of  July,  1815,  for  attempting 
to  poison  her  master  and  mistress.  The  trial  took 
place  at  the  Old  Bailey  on  April  nth  of  the  same 
year,  and  Mr.  Gurney  conducted  the  prosecution 
before  that  rough,  violent,  unfeeling  man,  Sir  John 
Sylvester  {alias  Black  Jack),  Recorder  of  London, 
who,  it  is  said,  used  to  call  the  calendar  "a  bill 
of  fare."  The  arsenic  for  rats,  kept  in  a  drawer 
by  Mr.  Turner,  had  been  mixed  with  the  dough 


of  some  yeast  dumplings,  of  which  all  the  family, 
including  the  poor  servant,  freely  partook.  There 
was  no  evidence  of  malice,  no  suspicion  of  any 
ill-will,  except  that  Mrs.  Turner  had  once  scolded 
the  girl  for  being  free  with  one  of  the  clerks.  It 
was,  moreover,  remembered  that  the  girl  had  par- 
ticularly pressed  her  mistress  to  let  her  make  some 
yeast  dumplings  on  the  day  in  question.  The 
defence  was  shamefully  conducted.  No  one  pressed 
the  fact  of  the  girl  having  left  the  dough  in  the 
kitchen  for  some  time  untended ;  nor  was  weight 
laid  on  the  fact  of  Eliza  Fenning's  own  danger  and 
sufferings.  All  the  poor,  half-paralysed,  Irish  girl 
could  say  was,  **  I  am  truly  innocent  of  the  whole 
charge — indeed  I  am.  I  liked  my  place.  I  was 
very  comfortable."  And  there  was  pathos  in  those 
simple,  stammering  words,  more  than  in  half  the 
self-conscious  diffuseness  of  tragic  poetry.  In  her 
white  bridal  dress  (the  cap  she  had  joyfully  worked 
for  herself)  she  went  to  her  cruel  death,  still  re- 
peating the  words,  "  I  am  innocent."  The  funeral, 
at  St.  George  the  Martyr,  was  attended  by  10,000 
people.  Curran  used  to  declaim  eloquently  on  her 
unhappy  fate,  and  Mr.  Charles  Phillips  wrote  a 
glowing  rhapsody  on  this  victim  of  legal  dulness. 
But  such  mistakes  not  even  Justice  herself  can 
correct.  A  city  mourned  over  her  early  grave; 
but  the  life  was  taken,  and  there  was  no  redress. 
Gadsden,  the  clerk,  whom  she  had  warned  not  to 
eat  any  dumpling,  as  it  was  heavy  (this  was  thought, 
suspicious),  afterwards  became  a  wealthy  solicitor 
in  Bedford  Row. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 
FLEET    STREET    (NORTHERN    TRIBUTARIES— f^«ft««^^). 

Oiflford's  Inn— Dyer's  Chambers- The  Settlement  after  the  Great  Fire— Peter  Wilkins  and  his  Flying  Wives— Fetter  Lane— Waller's  Plot  and 
its  Victims— Praise-God  Barebone  and  his  Doings— Charles  Lamb  at  School  —  Hobbes  the  Philosopher— A  Strange  Marriage  —  Mrs. 
Brownrigge— Paul  Whitehead— The  Moravians— The  Record  OfBce  and  its  Treasures— Rival  Poets. 


Clifford's  Inn,  originally  a  town  house  of  the 
Lords  Clifford,  ancestors  of  the  Earls  of  Cumber- 
land, given  to  them  by  Edward  II.,  was  first  let  to 
the  students  of  law  in  the  eighteenth  year  of  King 
Edward  HI.,  at  a  time  when  might  was  too  often 
right,  and  hard  knocks  decided  legal  questions 
oftener  than  deed  or  statute.  Harrison  the  regicide 
was  in  youth  clerk  to  an  attorney  in  Clifford's 
Inn,  but  when  the  Civil  War  broke  out  he  rode 
off  and  joined  the  Puritan  troopers. 

Clifford's  Inn   is   the   oldest  Inn  in  Chancery. 
There   was  formerly,  we  learn  from  Mr.  Jay,  an 


office  there,  out  of  which  were  issued  writs,  called 
"Bills  of  Middlesex,"  the  appointment  of  which 
office  was  in  the  gift  of  the  senior  judge  of  the 
Queen's  Bench.  "  But  what  made  this  Inn  once 
noted  was  that  all  the  six  attorneys  of  the  Mar- 
shalsea  Court  (better  known  as  the  Palace  Court) 
had  their  chambers  there,  as  also  had  the  satellites, 
who  paid  so  much  per  year  for  using  their  names 
and  looking  at  the  nature  of  their  practice.  I 
should  say  that  more  misery  emanated  from  this 
small  spot  than  from  any  one  of  the  most  populous 
counties  in  England.      The   causes  in  this  court 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


GEORGE   DYER'S   CHAMBERS. 


93 


I 


were  obliged  to  be  tried  in  the  city  of  Westminster, 
near  the  Palace,  and  it  was  a  melancholy  sight 
(except  to  lawyers)  to  observe  in  the  court  the 
crowd  of  every  description  of  persons  suing  one 
another.  The  most  remarkable  man  in  the  court 
was  the  extremely  fat  prothonotary,  Mr.  Hewlett, 
who  sat  under  the  judge  or  the  judge's  deputy, 
with  a  wig  on  his  head  like  a  thrush's  nest,  and 
with  only  one  book  before  him,  which  was  one 
of  the  volumes  of  'Bums'  Justice.'  I  knew  a 
respectable  gentleman  (Mr.  G.  Dyer)  who  resided 
here  in  chambers  (where  he  died)  over  a  firm  of 
Marshalsea  attorneys.  This  gentleman,  who  wTote 
a  history  of  Cambridge  University  and  a  bio- 
graphy of  Robinson  of  Cambridge,  had  been  a 
Biuecoat  boy,  went  as  a  Grecian  to  Cambridge, 
and,  after  the  University,  visited  almost  every 
celebrated  library  in  Europe,  It  often  struck  me 
what  a  mighty  difference  there  was  between  what 
was  going  on  in  the  one  set  of  chambers  and  the 
other  underneath.  At  Mr.  Dyer's  I  have  seen  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  Southey,  Coleridge,  Lamb,  Talfourd, 
and  many  other  celebrated  literati,  *  all  benefiting 
by  hearing,  which  was  but  of  little  advantage  to 
the  owner.'  In  the  lawyers'  chambers  below  were 
people  wrangling,  swearing,  and  shouting,  and  some, 
too,  even  fighting,  the  only  relief  to  which  was  the 
eternal  stamping  of  cognovits,  bound  in  a  book  as 
large  as  a  family  Bible."  The  Lord  Chief  Justice 
of  the  Common  Pleas  and  Lord  Chelmsford  both 
at  one  time  practised  in  the  County  Court,  pur- 
chased their  situations  for  large  sums,  and  after- 
wards sold  them.  "  It  was  not  a  bad  nursery  for 
a  young  barrister,  as  he  had  an  opportunity  of 
addressing  a  jury.  There  were  only  four  counsel 
who  had  a  right  to  practise  in  this  court,  and  if 
you  took  a  first-rate  advocate  in  there  specially, 
you  were  obliged  to  give  briefs  to  two  of  the 
privileged  four.  On  the  tombstone  of  one  of  the 
compensated  Marshalsea  attorneys  is  cut  the  bitterly 
ironical  epitaph,  "  Blessed  are  tke  peacemakers  :  for 
they  shall  be  called  the  children  of  God." 

Coke,  that  great  luminary  of  English  jurispru- 
dence, resided  at  Clifford's  Inn  for  a  year,  and  then 
entered  himself  at  the  Inner  Temple.  Coke,  it 
will  be  remembered,  conducted  the  prosecution  of 
both  Essex  and  Raleigh;  in  both  cases  he  was 
grossly  unfeeling  to  fallen  great  men. 

The  George  Dyer  mentioned  by  Mr.  Jay  was 
not  the  author  of  "  The  Fleece,"  but  that  eccentric 
and  amiable  old  scholar  sketched  by  Charles  Lamb 
in  "  The  Essays  of  Elia."  Dyer  was  a  poet  and  an 
antiquary,  and  edited  nearly  all  the  140  volumes 
of  the  Delphin  Classics  for  'Valpy.  Alternately 
writer,  Baptist  minister,   and   reporter,   he    even- 


tually settled  down  in  the  monastic  solitude  of 
Clifford's  Inn  to  compose  verses,  annotate  Greek 
plays,  and  write  for  the  magazines.  How  the 
worthy,  simple-hearted  bookworm  once  walked 
straight  from  Lamb's  parlour  in  Colebrooke  Row 
into  the  New  River,  and  was  then  fished  out  and 
restored  with  brandy-and-water,  Lamb  was  never 
tired  of  telling.  At  the  latter  part  of  his  life  poor 
old  Dyer  became  totally  bHnd.     He  died  in  1841. 

The  hall  of  Clifford's  Inn  is  memorable  as  being 
the  place  where  Sir  Matthew  Hale  and  seventeen 
other  wise  and  patient  judges  sat,  after  the  Great 
Fire  of  1666,  to  adjudicate  upon  the  claims  of  the 
landlords  and  tenants  of  burned  houses,  and  pre- 
vent future  lawsuits.  The  difficulty  of  discovering 
the  old  boundaries,  under  the  mountains  of  ashes, 
must  have  been  great ;  and  forty  thick  folio  volumes 
of  decisions,  now  preserved  in  the  British  Museum, 
tell  of  many  a  legal  headache  in  Clifford's  Inn. 

A  very  singular  custom,  and  probably  of  great 
antiquity,  prevails  after  the  dinners  at  Clifford's 
Inn.  The  society  is  divided  into  two  sections — the 
Principal  and  Aules,  and  the  Junior  or  *'  Kentish 
Men."  When  the  meal  is  over,  the  chairman  of 
the  Kentish  Men,  standing  up  at  the  Junior  table, 
bows  gravely  to  the  Principal,  takes  from  the  hand 
of  a  servitor  standing  by  four  small  rolls  of  bread, 
silently  dashes  them  three  times  on  the  table,  and 
then  pushes  them  down  to  the  further  end  of  the 
board,  from  whence  they  are  removed.  Perfect 
silence  is  preserved  during  this  mystic  ceremony, 
which  some  antiquary  who  sees  deeper  into  mill- 
stones than  his  brethren  thinks  typifies  offerings  to 
Ceres,  who  first  taught  mankind  the  use  of  laws 
and  originated  those  peculiar  ornaments  of  civilisa- 
tion, their  expounders,  the  lawyers. 

In  the  hall  is  preserved  an  old  oak  folding  case, 
containing  the  forty-seven  rules  of  the  institution, 
now  almost  defaced,  and  probably  of  the  reign  of 
Henry  VIII.  The  hall  casement  contains  armorial 
glass  with  the  bearings  of  Baptist  Hicks,  Viscount 
Camden,  &c. 

Robert  Pultock,  the  almost  unknown  author  of 
that  graceful  story,  "  Peter  Wilkins,"  from  whose 
flying  women  Southey  drew  his  poetical  notion  of 
the  Glendoveer,  or  flying  spirit,  in  his  wild  poem 
of  "The  Curse  of  Kehama,"  lived  in  this  Inn, 
paced  on  its  terrace,  and  mused  in  its  garden. 
"  '  Peter  Wilkins '  is  to  my  mind,"  says  Coleridge 
(in  his  "  Table  Talk "),  "  a  work  of  uncommon 
beauty,  and  yet  Stothard's  illustrations  have  added 
beauties  to  it.  If  it  were  not  for  a  certain  tend- 
ency to  affectation,  scarcely  any  praise  could  be 
too  high  for  Stothard's  designs.  They  give  me 
great  pleasure.     I  believe  that  '  Robinson  Crusoe  ' 


94 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


and  '  Peter  Wilkins '  could  only  have  been  written 
by  islanders.  No  continentalist  could  have  con- 
ceived either  tale.  Davis's  story  is  an  imitation 
cf  *  Peter  Wilkins,'  but  there  are  many  beautiful 
things  in  it,  especially  his  finding  his  wife  crouching 
by  the  fireside,  she  having,  in  his  absence,  plucked 
out  all  her  feathers,  to  be  like  him !  It  would 
require  a  very  peculiar  genius  to  add  another 
tale,  ejusdem  generis,  to  'Peter  Wilkins'  and 
'Robinson  Crusoe.'  I  once  projected  such  a 
thing,  but  the  diflftculty  of  a  pre-occupied  ground 
stopped  me.  Perhaps  La  Motte  Fouque  might 
effect  something ;  but  I  should  fear  that  neither  he 
nor  any  other  German  could  entirely  understand 
what  may  be  called  the  *  desert  island '  feeling.  I 
would  try  the  marvellous  line  of  '  Peter  Wilkins,' 
if  I  attempted  it,  rather  than  the  real  fiction  of 
'Robinson  Crusoe.'" 

The  name  of  the  author  of  "  Peter  Wilkins"  was 
discovered  only  a  few  years  ago.  In  the  year  1835 
Mr.  Nicol,  the  printer,  sold  by  auction  a  number 
of  books  and  manuscripts  in  his  possession,  which 
had  formerly  belonged  to  the  well-known  publisher, 
Dodsley ;  and  in  arranging  them  for  sale,  the  ori- 
ginal agreement  for  the  sale  of  the  manuscript  of 
**  Peter  Wilkins,"  by  the  author,  "  Robert  Pultock, 
of  Clifford's  Inn,"  to  Dodsley,  was  discovered. 
From  this  document  it  appears  that  Mr.  Pultock 
received  twenty  pounds,  twelve  copies  of  the  work, 
and  "the  cuts  of  the  first  impression" — i.e.,  a  set 
of  proof  impressions  of  the  fanciful  engravings 
that  professed  to  illustrate  the  first  edition  of  the 
work — as  the  price  of  the  entire  copyright.  This 
curious  document  had  been  sold  afterwards  to 
John  Wilkes,  Esq.,  M.P. 

Inns  of  Chancery,  like  CHfford's  Inn,  were 
originally  law  schools,  to  prepare  students  for  the 
larger  Inns  of  Court. 

Fetter  Lane  did  not  derive  its  name  from  the 
manufacture  of  Newgate  fetters.  Stow,  who  died 
early  in  the  reign  of  James  I.,  calls  it  "  Fewtor 
Lane,"  from  the  Norman-French  word  "fewtor" 
(idle  person,  loafer),  perhaps  analogous  to  the  even 
less  complimentary  modern  French  word  "  foutre" 
(blackguard).  Mr.  Jesse,  however,  derives  the  word 
"fetter"  from  the  Norman  "defaytor"  (defaulter), 
as  if  the  lane  had  once  been  a  sanctuary  for 
skulking  debtors.  In  either  case  the  derivation  is 
somewhat  ignoble,  but  the  inhabitants  have  long 
since  lived  it  down.  Stow  says  it  was  once  a 
mere  byway  leading  to  gardens  {quantum  mutatus  !) 
If  men  of  the  Bobadil  and  Pistol  character  ever 
did  look  over  the  garden-gates  and  puff  their 
Trinidado  in  the  faces  of  respectable  passers-by, 
the  lane  at  least  regained  its  character  later,  when 


poets  and  philosophers  condescended  to  live  in  it, 
and  persons  of  considerable  consequence  rustled 
their  silks  and  trailed  their  velvet  along  its  narrow 
roadway. 

During  the  Middle  Ages  Fetter  Lane  slumbered, 
but  it  woke  up  on  the  breaking  out  of  the  Civil  War, 
and  in  1 643  became  unpleasantly  celebrated  as  the 
spot  where  Waller's  plot  disastrously  terminated. 

In  the  second  year  of  the  war  between  King 
and  Parliament,  the  Royal  successes  at  Bath,  Bristol, 
and  Cornwall,  as  well  as  the  partial  victory  at 
Edgehill,  had  roused  the  moderate  party  and 
chilled  many  lukewarm  adherents  of  the  Puritans. 
The  distrust  of  Pym  and  his  friends  soon  broke 
out  into  a  reactionary  plot,  or,  more  probably,  two 
plots,  in  one  or  both  of  which  Waller,  the  poet,  was 
dangerously  mixed  up.  The  chief  conspirators 
were  Tomkins  and  Challoner,  the  former  Waller's 
brother-in-law,  a  gentleman  living  in  Holbom,  near 
the  end  "of  Fetter  Lane,  and  a  secretary  to  the 
Commissioners  of  the  Royal  Revenues ;  the  latter 
an  eminent  citizen,  well  known  on  'Change.  Many 
noblemen  and  Cavalier  officers  and  gentlemen  hid 
also  a  whispering  knowledge  of  the  ticklish  affair. 
The  projects  of  these  men,  or  of  some  of  the  more 
desperate,  at  least,  were — (i)  to  secure  the  king's 
children ;  (2)  to  seize  Mr.  Pym,  Colonel  Hampden, 
and  other  members  of  Parliament  specially  hostile 
to  the  king;  (3)  to  arrest  the  Puritan  Lord  Mayor, 
and  all  the  sour-faced  committee  of  the  City  Militia; 
(4)  to  capture  the  outworks,  forts,  magazines,  and 
gates  of  the  Tower  and  City,  and  to  admit  3,000 
Cavaliers  sent  from  Oxford  by  a  pre-arranged 
plan;  (5)  to  resist  all  payments  imposed  by  Parlia- 
ment for  support  of  the  armies  of  the  Earl  of  Essex. 
Unfortunately,  just  as  the  white  ribbons  were  pre- 
paring to  tie  round  the  arms  of  the  conspirators, 
to  mark  them  on  the  night  of  action,  a  treacherous 
servant  of  Mr.  Tomkins,  of  Holbom,  overheard 
Waller's  plans  from  behind  a  convenient  arras,  and 
disclosed  them  to  the  angry  Parliament.  In  a 
cellar  at  Tomkins's  the  soldiers  who  rummaged  it 
found  a  commission  sent  from  the  king  by  Lady 
Aubigny,  whose  husband  had  been  recently  killed 
at  Edgehill. 

Tomkins  and  Challoner  were  hung  at  the  Hol- 
bom end  of  Fetter  Lane.  On  the  ladder,  Tomkins 
said  : — "  Gentlemen,  I  humbly  acknowledge,  in  the 
sight  of  Almighty  God  (to  whom,  and  to  angels, 
and  to  this  great  assembly  of  people,  I  am  now  a 
spectacle),  that  my  sins  have  deserved  of  Him  this 
untimely  and  shameful  death ;  and,  touching  the 
business  for  which  I  suffer,  I  acknowledge  that 
affection  to  a  brother-in-law,  and  affection  and 
gratitude  to  the  king,  whose  bread  I  have  eaten 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


THE  SPEECH   ON  THE  LADDER. 


95 


now  about  twenty-two  years  (I  have  been  servant 
to  him  when  he  was  prince,  and  ever  since :  it 
will  be  twenty-three  years  in  August  next) — I 
confess  these  two  motives  drew  me  into  this 
foolish  business.  I  have  often  since  declared  to 
good  friends  that  I  was  glad  it  was  discovered, 
because  it  might  have  occasioned  very  ill  con- 
sequences ;  and  truly  I  have  repented  having  any 
hand  in  it." 

Challoner  was  equally  fatal  against  Waller,  and 
said,  when  at  the  same  giddy  altitude  as  Tom- 
kins,  "Gentlemen,  this  is  the  happiest  day  that 
ever  I  had.  I  shall  now,  gentlemen,  declare  a  little 
more  of  the  occasion  of  this,  as  J  am  desired  by 
Mr.  Peters  [the  famous  Puritan  divine,  Hugh 
Peters]  to  give  him  and  the  world  satisfaction  in  it. 
It  came  from  Mr.  Waller,  under  this  notion,  that  if 
we  could  make  a  moderate  party  here  in  London, 
and  stand  betwixt  and  in  the  gap  to  unite  the  king 
and  the  Parliament,  it  would  be  a  very  acceptable 
work,  for  now  the  three  kingdoms  lay  a-bleeding ; 
and  unless  that  were  done,  there  was  no  hopes  to 
unite  them,"  &c. 

Waller  had  a  very  narrow  escape,  but  he  extri- 
cated himself  with  the  most  subtle  skill,  perhaps 
secretly  aided  by  his  kinsman,  Cromwell.  He 
talked  of  his  "  carnal  eye,"  of  his  repentance,  of 
the  danger  of  letting  the  army  try  a  member  of 
the  House.  As  Lord  Clarendon  says :  "  With  in- 
credible dissimulation  he  acted  such  a  remorse  of 
conscience,  that  his  trial  was  put  off,  out  of  Chris- 
tian compassion,  till  he  could  recover  his  under- 
standing." In  the  meantime,  he  bribed  the  Puritan 
preachers,  and  listened  with  humble  deference  to 
their  prayers  for  his  repentance.  He  bent  abjectly 
before  the  House ;  and  eventually,  with  a  year's 
imprisonment  and  a  fine  of  ;^  10,000,  obtained 
leave  to  retire  to  France.  Having  spent  all  his 
money  in  Paris,  Waller  at  last  obtained  permission 
from  Cromwell  to  return  to  England.  "There 
cannot,"  says  Clarendon,  "  be  a  greater  evidence  of 
the  inestimable  value  of  his  (Waller's)  parts,  than 
that  he  lived  after  this  in  the  good  esteem  and 
affection  of  many,  the  pity  of  most,  and  the  re- 
proach and  scorn  of  few  or  none."  The  body  of 
the  unlucky  Tomkins  was  buried  in  the  church- 
yard of  St.  Andrew's,  Holborn. 

According  to  Peter  Cunningham,  that  shining 
light  of  the  Puritan  party  in  the  early  days  of  Crom- 
well, "Praise-God  Barebone,"  was  a  leather-seller 
in  Fetter  I^ane,  having  a  house,  either  at  the  same 
time  or  later,  called  the  "  Lock  and  Key,"  near 
Crane  Court,  at  which  place  his  son,  a  great 
speculator  and  builder,  afterwards  resided.  Bare- 
bone   (probably  Barbon,  of  a   French   Huguenot 


family)  was  one  of  those  gloomy  religionists  who 
looked  on  surplices,  plum-porridge,  theatres,  dances 
Christmas  pudding,  and  homicide  as  equally  de- 
testable, and  did  his  best  to  shut  out  all  sunshine 
from  that  long,  rainy,  stormy  day  that  is  called  life. 
He  was  at  the  head  of  that  fanatical,  tender- 
conscienced  Parliament  of  1653  that  Cromwell 
convened  from  among  the  elect  in  London,  after 
untoward  Sir  Harry  Vane  had  been  expelled  from 
Westminster  at  the  muzzles  of  Pride's  muskets.  Of 
Barebone,  also,  and  his  crochetty,  impracticable 
fellows,  Cromwell  had  soon  enough ;  and,  in  despair 
of  all  aid  but  from  his  own  brain  and  hand,  he 
then  took  the  title  of  Lord  Protector,  and  became 
the  most  inflexible  and  wisest  monarch  we  have 
ever  had,  or  indeed  ever  hope  to  have.  Barebone 
is  first  heard  of  in  local  history  as  preaching  in 
1 64 1,  together  with  Mr.  Greene,  a  felt-maker,  at  a 
conventicle  in  Fetter  Lane,  a  place  always  renowned 
for  its  heterodoxy.  The  thoughtless  Cavaliers,  who 
did  not  like  long  sermons,  and  thought  all  religion 
but  their  own  hypocrisy,  delighted  in  gaunt  Bare- 
bone's  appropriate  name,  and  made  fun  of  him  in 
those  ribald  ballads  in  which  they  consigned  red- 
nosed  Noll,  the  brewer,  to  the  reddest  and  hottest 
portion  of  the  unknown  world.  At  the  Restoration, 
when  all  Fleet  Street  was  ablaze  with  bonfires  to 
roast  the  Rumps,  the  street  boys,  always  on  the 
strongest  side,  broke  poor  Barebone's  windows, 
though  he  had  been  constable  and  common- 
councilman,  and  was  a  wealthy  leather-seller  to 
boot.  But  he  was  not  looked  upon  as  of  the 
regicide  or  extreme  dangerous  party,  and  a  year 
afterwards  attended  a  vestry-meeting  unmolested. 
After  the  Great  Fire  he  came  to  the  Clifibrd's  Inn 
Appeal  Court  about  his  Fleet  Street  house,  which 
had  been  burnt  over  the  heads  of  his  tenants,  and 
eventually  he  rebuilt  it. 

In  Irving's  "  History  of  Dissenters "  there  is  a 
curious  account,  from  an  old  pamphlet  entitled 
"  New  Preachers,"  "  of  Barebone,  Greene  the 
felt-maker,  Spencer  the  horse-rubber,  Quartermaine 
the  brewer's  clerk,  and  some  few  others,  who  are 
mighty  sticklers  in  this  new  kind  of  talking  trade, 
which  many  ignorant  coxcombs  call  preaching; 
whereunto  is  added  the  last  tumult  in  Fleet  Street, 
raised  by  the  disorderly  preachment,  pratings,  and 
prattlings  of  Mr.  Barebone  the  leather-seller,  and 
Mr.  Greene  the  felt-maker,  on  Sunday  last,  the 
19th  December." 

The  tumult  alluded  to  is  thus  described:  "A 
brief  touch  in  memory  of  the  fiery  zeal  of  Mr. 
Barebone,  a  reverend  unlearned  leather-seller, 
who  with  Mr.  Greene  the  felt-maker  were  both 
taken    preaching    or    prating    in    a    conventicle 


96 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


amongst  a  hundred  persons,  on  Sunday,  the  19th 
of  December  last,  1641." 

One  of  the  pleasantest  memories  of  Fetter 
Lane  is  that  which  connects  it  with  the  school- 
days of  that  delightful  essay-writer,  Charles  Lamb. 
He  himself,  in  one  of  Hone's  chatty  books,  has 
described  the  school,  and  Bird,  its  master,  in  his 
own  charming  way. 

Both  Lamb  and  his  sister,  says  Mr.  Fitzgerald, 
in  his  Memoir  of  Lamb,  went  to  a  school  where 
Starkey  had  been  usher  about  a  year  before  they 


were  not  frequent ;  but  when  they  took  place,  the 
correction  was  performed  in  a  private  room  ad- 
joining, whence  we  could  only  hear  the  plaints,  but 
saw  nothing.  This  heightened  the  decorum  and 
solemnity."  He  then  describes  the  ferule — "that 
almost  obsolete  weapon  now."  "  To  make  him  look 
more  formidable — if  a  pedagogue  had  need  of  these 
heightenings — Bird  wore  one  of  those  flowered 
Indian  gowns  formerly  in  use  with  schoolmasters, 
the  strange  figures  upon  which  we  used  to  interpret 
into  hieroglyphics  of  pain  and  suffering."     This 


KOASTING  THE   RUMPS   IN   FLEET  STREET   (FROM  AN   OLD  PRINT)   (see  page  95). 


came  to  it — a  room  that  looked  into  "  a  discoloured, 
dingy  garden,  in  the  passage  leading  from  Fetter 
Lane  into  Bartlett's  Buildings.  This  was  close  to 
Holborn.  Queen  Street,  where  Lamb  lived  when 
a  boy,  was  in  Holborn."  Bird  is  described  as  an 
"eminent  writer"  who  taught  mathematics,  which 
was  no  more  than  "  cyphering."  "  Heaven  knows 
what  languages  were  taught  there.  I  am  sure  that 
neither  my  sister  nor  myself  brought  any  out  of  it 
but  a  little  of  our  native  English.  It  was,  in  fact, 
a  humble  day-school."  Bird  and  Cook,  he  says, 
were  the  masters.  Bird  had  "that  peculiar  mild 
tone — especially  when  he  was  inflicting  punish- 
ment— which  is  so  much  more  terrible  to  children 
than  the  angriest  looks  and  gestures.     Whippings 


is  in  Lamb's  most  delightful  vein.  So,  too,  with 
other  incidents  of  the  school,  especially  "  our  little 
leaden  ink-stands,  not  separately  subsisting,  but 
sunk  into  the  desks;  and  the  agonising  benches 
on  which  we  were  all  cramped  together,  and  yet 
encouraged  to  attain  a  free  hand,  unattainable  in 
this  position."  Lamb  recollected  even  his  first 
copy — "  Art  improves  nature,"  and  could  look  back 
with  "pardonable  pride  to  his  carrying  off  the 
first  premium  for  spelling.  Long  after,  certainly 
thirty  years,  the  school  was  still  going  on,  only  there 
was  a  Latin  inscription  over  the  entrance  in  the 
lane,  unknown  in  our  humbler  days."  In  the 
evening  was  a  short  attendance  of  girls,  to  which 
Miss  Lamb  went,  and  she  recollected  the  theatricals, 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


POOR  "CAPTAIN  STARKEY." 


97 


and  even  Cato  being  performed  by  the  young 
gentlemen.  "  She  describes  the  cast  of  the  charac- 
ters with  relish.  *  Martha,'  by  the  handsome  Edgar 
Hickman,  who  afterwards  went  to  Africa." 

The  Starkey  mentioned  by  Lamb  was  a  poor, 
crippled  dwarf,  generally  known  at  Newcastle  in 
his  old  age  as  *'  Captain  Starkey,"  the  butt  of  the 
street-boys  and  the  pensioner  of  benevolent  citi- 
zens. In  1818,  when  he  had  been  an  inmate  of 
the  Freemen's  Hospital,  Newcastle,  for  twenty-six 


was  lodging  in  Fetter  Lane  when  he  published  his 
"Leviathan,"  He  was  not  there,  however,  in 
1660,  at  the  Restoration,  since  we  are  told  that  on 
that  glorious  occasion  he  was  standing  at  the  door 
of  Salisbury  House,  the  mansion  of  his  kind  and 
generous  patron,  the  Earl  of  Devonshire ;  and  that 
the  king,  formerly  Hobbes's  pupil  in  mathematics, 
nodded  to  his  old  tutor.  A  short  duodecimo  sketch 
of  Hobbes  may  not  be  uninteresting.  This  scepti- 
cal philosopher,  hardened  into  dogmatic  selfishness 


INTERIOR   OF  THE   MORAVIAN   CHAPEL   IN  FETTER   LANE   {see  page    lOO). 


years,  the  poor  old  ex-usher  of  the  Fetter  Lane 
school  wrote  "  The  Memoirs  of  his  Life,"  a  humble 
little  pamphlet  of  only  fourteen  pages,  upon  which 
Hone  good-naturedly  wrote  an  article  which  educed 
Lamb's  pleasant  postscript.  Starkey,  it  appears, 
had  been  usher,  not  in  Lamb's  own  time,  but  in 
that  of  Mary  Lamb's,  who  came  after  her  brother 
had  left.  She  describes  Starkey  running  away  on 
one  occasion,  being  brought  back  by  his  father, 
and  sitting  the  remainder  of  the  day  with  his  head 
buried  in  his  hands,  even  the  most  mischievous 
boys  respecting  his  utter  desolation. 

That  clever  but  mischievous  advocate  of  divine 
right  and  absolute  power,  Hobbes  of  Malmesbury, 
9' 


by  exile,  was  the  son  of  a  Wiltshire  clergyman, 
and  he  first  saw  the  light  the  year  of  the  Armada, 
his  mother  being  prematurely  confined  during  the 
first  panic  of  the  Spanish  invasion.  Hobbes,  with 
that  same  want  of  self-respect  and  love  of  inde- 
pendence that  actuated  Gay  and  Thomson,  re- 
mained his  whole  life  a  tolerated  pensioner  of  his 
former  pupil,  the  Earl  of  Devonshire ;  'bearing,  no 
doubt,  in  his  time  many  rebuffs ;  for  pride  will  be 
proud,  and  rich  men  require  wisdom,  when  in  their 
pay,  to  remember  its  place.  Hobbes  in  his  time 
was  a  friend  of,  and,  it  is  said,  a  translator  for.  Lord 
Bacon ;  and  Ben  Jonson,  that  ripe  scholar,  revised 
his  sound  translation  of  "  Thucydides."     He  sat  at 


98 


OLD  AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


the  feet  of  Galileo  and  by  the  side  of  Gassendi  and 
Descartes.  While  in  Fetter  Lane  he  associated 
with  Harvey,  Selden,  and  Cowley.  He  talked  and 
wrangled  with  the  wise  men  of  half  Europe.  He 
had  sat  at  Richelieu's  table  and  been  loaded  with 
honours  by  Cosmo  de  Medici.  The  laurels  Hobbes 
won  in  the  schools  he  lost  on  Parnassus.  His  trans- 
lation of  Homer  is  tasteless  and  contemptible.  In 
mathematics,  too,  he  was  dismounted  by  Wallis  and 
others.  Personally  he  had  weaknesses.  He  was 
afraid  of  apparitions,  he  dreaded  assassination,  and 
had  a  fear  that  Burnet  and  the  bishops  would  burn 
him  as  a  heretic.  His  philosophy,  though  useful, 
as  Mr.  Mill  says,  in  expanding  free  thought  and 
exciting  inquiry,  was  based  on  selfishness.  Nothing 
can  be  falser  and  more  detestable  than  the  maxims 
of  this  sage  of  the  Restoration  and  of  reaction. 
He  holds  the  natural  condition  of  man  to  be  a 
state  of  war — a  war  of  all  men  against  all  men ; 
might  making  right,  and  the  conqueror  trampling 
down  all  the  rest.  The  civil  laws,  he  declares,  are 
the  only  standards  of  good  or  evil.  The  sovereign, 
he  asserts,  possesses  absolute  power,  and  is  not 
bound  by  any  compact  with  the  people  (who  pay  him 
as  their  head  servant).  Nothing  he  does  can  be 
wrong.  The  sovereign  has  the  right  of  interpreting 
Scripture ;  and  he  thinks  that  Christians  are  bound 
to  obey  the  laws  of  an  infidel  king,  even  in  matters 
of  religion.  He  sneers  at  the  belief  in  a  future 
state,  and  hints  at  materialism.  These  monstrous 
doctrines,  which  even  Charles  H.  would  not  fully 
sanction,  were  naturally  battered  and  bombarded  by 
Harrington,  Dr.  Henry  More,  and  others.  Hobbes 
was  also  vehemently  attacked  by  that  disagreeable 
Dr.  Fell,  the  subject  of  the  well-known  epigram, — 

•'  I  do  not  like  thee,  Dr.  Fell ; 
The  reason  why  I  cannot  tell ; 
But  this  I  know,  and  know  full  well, 
I  do  not  like  thee,  Dr.  Fell," 

who  rudely  called  Hobbes  "  irritabile  illud  et 
vanissimum  Maltnsburiense  animal."  The  philo- 
sopher of  Fetter  Lane,  who  was  short-sighted 
enough  to  deride  the  early  efforts  of  the  Royal 
Society,  though  they  were  founded  on  the  strict 
inductive  Baconian  theory,  seems  to  have  been  a 
vain  man,  loving  paradox  rather  than  truth,  and 
desirous  of  founding,  at  all  risks,  a  new  school  of 
philosophy.  The  Civil  War  had  warped  him ; 
solitary  thinking  had  turned  him  into  a  cynical 
dogmatiser.  He  was  timid  as  Erasmus ;  and  once 
confessed  that  if  he  was  cast  into  a  deep  pit,  and 
the  devil  should  put  down  his  hot  cloven  foot,  he 
would  take  hold  of  it  to  draw  himself  out.  This 
was  not  the  metal  that  such  men  as  Luther  and 


Latimer  were  made  of;  but  it  served  for  the  Aris- 
totle of  Rochester  and  Buckingham.  A  wit  of  the 
day  proposed  as  Hobbes's  epitaph  the  simple 
words,  "  The  philosopher's  stone." 

Hobbes's  professed  rule  of  health  was  to  dedicate 
the  morning  to  his  exercise  and  the  afternoon  to 
his  studies.  At  his  first  rising,  therefore,  he  walked 
out  and  climbed  any  hill  within  his  reach;  or,  if 
the  weather  was  not  dry,  he  fatigued  himself  within 
doors  by  some  exercise  or  other,  in  order  to  per- 
spire, recommending  that  practice  upon  this  opinion, 
that  an  old  man  had  more  moisture  than  heat, 
and  therefore  by  such  motion  heat  was  to  be 
acquired  and  moisture  expelled.  After  this  he 
took  a  comfortable  breakfast,  then  went  round  the 
lodgings  to  wait  upon  the  earl,  the  countiess,  the 
children,  and  any  considerable  strangers,  paying 
some  short  addresses  to  all  of  them.  He  kept 
these  rounds  till  about  twelve  o'clock,  when  he 
had  a  little  dinner  provided  for  him,  which  he  ate 
always  by  himself,  without  ceremony.  Soon  after 
dinner  he  retired  to  his  study,  and  had  his  candle, 
with  ten  or  twelve  pipes  of  tobacco,  laid  by  him  ; 
then,  shutting  his  door,  he  fell  to  smoking,  think- 
ing, and  writing  for  several  hours. 

At  a  small  coal-shed  (just  one  of  those  black  bins 
still  to  be  seen  at  the  south-west  end)  in  Fetter 
Lane,  Dr.  Johnson's  friend,  Levett,  the  poor  apothe- 
cary, met  a  woman  of  bad  character,  who  duped 
him  into  marriage.  The  whole  story.  Dr.  Johnson 
used  to  say,  was  as  marvellous  as  any  page  of  "  The 
Arabian  Nights."  Lord  Macaulay,  in  his  highly- 
coloured  and  somewhat  exaggerated  way,  calls 
Levett  "an  old  quack  doctor,  who  bled  and  dosed 
coal-heavers  and  hackney-coachmen,  and  received 
for  fees  crusts  of  bread,  bits  of  bacon,  glasses  of 
gin,  and  a  little  copper."  Levett,  however,  was 
neither  a  quack  nor  a  doctor,  but  an  honest  man 
and  an  apothecary,  and  the  list  of  his  patients  is 
entirely  hypothetical.  This  simple-hearted,  bene- 
volent man  was  persuaded  by  the  proprietress  of 
the  coal-shed  that  she  had  been  defrauded  of  her 
birthright  by  her  kinsman,  a  man  of  fortune.  Levett, 
then  nearly  sixty,  married  her;  and  four  months 
after,  a  writ  was  issued  against  him  for  debts  con- 
tracted by  his  wife,  and  he  had  to  lie  close  to 
avoid  the  gaol.  Not  long  afterwards  his  amiable 
wife  ran  away  from  him,  and,  being  taken  up  for 
picking  pockets,  was  tried  at  the  Old  Bailey, 
where  she  defended  herself,  and  was  .  acquitted. 
Dr.  Johnson  then,  touched  by  Levett's  misfortunes 
and  goodness,  took  him  to  his  own  home  at  Bolt 
Court. 

It  was  in  a  house  on  the  east  side  of  this  lane, 
looking  into  Fleur-de-Lys  Court,   that   (in    1767) 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


"THE  SCALD   MISERABLES." 


99 


Elizabeth  Brownrigge,  midwife  to  the  St.  Dunstan's 
workhouse  and  wife  of  a  house-painter,  cruelly  ill- 
used  her  two  female  apprentices.    Mary  Jones,  one 
of  these  unfortunate  children,  after  being  often 
beaten,  ran  back  to  the  FoundUng,  from  whence 
she  had  been  taken.     On  the  remaining  one,  Mary 
Mitchell,  the  wrath  of  the  avaricious  hag  now  fell 
with  redoubled  severity.     The  poor  creature  was 
perpetually  being   stripped   and  beaten,  was  fre- 
quently chained  up  at  night  nearly  naked,   was 
scratched,  and  her  tongue   cut  with  scissors.     It 
was  the  constant  practice  of  Mrs.  Brownrigge  to 
fasten  the  girl's  hands  to  a  rope  slung  from  a  beam 
in  the  kitchen,  after  which  this   old  wretch  beat 
her  four  or  five  times  in  the  same  day  with  a  broom 
or  a  whip.     The  moanings  and  groans  of  the  dying 
child,  whose  wounds  were  mortifying  from  neglect, 
aroused  the  pity  of  a  baker  opposite,  who  sent  the 
overseers  of  the  parish  to  see  the  child,  who  was 
found  hid  in  a  buffet  cupboard.     She  was  taken 
to  St.   Bartholomew's   Hospital,  and    soon   died. 
Brownrigge  was  at  once  arrested ;  but  Mrs.  Brown- 
rigge and  her  son,  disguising  themselves  in  Rag 
Fair,  fled  to  Wandsworth,  and  there  took  lodgings 
in  a  chandler's  shop,   where  they  were  arrested. 
The  woman  was  tried  at  the  Old  Bailey  sessions, 
and  found  guilty  of  murder.     Mr.  Silas  Told,  an 
excellent  Methodist  preacher,  who  attended  her  in 
the  condemned  cell,  has  left  a  curious,  simple- 
hearted  account  of  her  behaviour  and  of  what  he 
considered  her  repentance.     She  talked  a  great  deal 
of  religion,  and  stood  much  on  the  goodness  of  her 
past  Ufe.    The  mob  raged  terribly  as  she  passed 
through    the    streets    on    her    way    to   Tyburn. 
The  women  especially  screamed,  "Tear  off  her 
hat ;  let  us  see  her  face  1    The   devil  will  fetch 
her ! "  and  threw  stones  and  mud,  pitiless  in  their 
hatred.     After  execution  her  corpse  was  thrust  into 
a  hackney-coach  and  driven  to  Surgeons'  Hall  for 
dissection;  the   skeleton  is  still  preserved  in   a 
Ix)ndon  collection.     The  cruel  hag's  husband  and 
son  were  sentenced  to  six  months'  imprisonment. 
A  curious  old  drawing  is  still  extant,  representing 
Mrs.    Brownrigge   in    the    condemned  cell.      She 
wears  a  large,  broad-brimmed  gipsy  hat,  tied  under 
her  chin,  and  a  cape ;  and  her  long,  hard  face  jvears 
a  horrible  smirk  of  resigned  hypocrisy.     Canning, 
in  one  of  his  bitter  banters  on  Southey's  republican 

odes,  writes, — 

"  For  this  act 
Did  Brownrigge  swing.     Harsh  laws  !     But  time  shall  come 
When  France  shall 'reign,  and  laws  be  all  repealed." 

In  Castle  Street  (an  offshoot  of  Fetter  Lane),  in 
1709-10  (Queen  Anne),  at  the  house  of  his  father, 
a  master  tailor,  was  bom  a  very  small  poet,  Paul 


Whitehead.  This  poor  satirist  and  worthless  man 
became  a  Jacobite  barrister  and  proteg^  of  Bubh 
Doddington  and  the  Prince  of  Wales  and  his  Leices-' 
ter  Fields  Court.  For  libelling  Whig  noblemen, 
in  his  poem  called  "Manners,"  Dodsley,  White- 
head's publisher,  was  summoned  by  the  Ministers, 
who  wished  to  intimidate  Pope,  before  the  House  of 
Lords.  He  appears  to  have  been  an  atheist,  and  was 
a  member  of  the  infamous  Hell-Fire  Club,  that  held 
its  obscene  and  blasphemous  orgies  at  Medmenham 
Abbey,  in  Buckinghamshire,  the  seat  of  Sir  Francis 
Dashwood,  where  every  member  assumed  the 
name  of  an  Apostle.  Later  in  life  Whitehead  was 
bought  off  by  the  Ministry,  and  then  settled  down 
at  a  villa  on  Twickenham  Common,  where  Hogarth 
used  to  visit  him.  If  Whitehead  is  ever  remem- 
bered, it  will  be  only  for  that  splash  of  vitriol  that 
Churchill  threw  in  his  face,  when  he  wrote  of  the 
turncoat, — 

"  May  I— can  worse  disgrace  on  manhood  fall  ?—  • 
Be  born  a  "Whitehead  and  baptised  a  Paul." 

It  was  this  Whitehead,  with  Carey,  the  surgeon 
of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who  got  up  a  mock  pro- 
cession, in  ridicule  of  the  Freemasons'  annual  caval- 
cade from  Brooke  Street  to  Haberdashers'  Hall. 
The  ribald  procession  consisted  of  shoe-blacks  and 
chimney-sweeps,  in  carts  drawn  by  asses,  followed 
by  a  mourning-coach  with  six  horses,  each  of  a  dif^ 
ferent  colour.  The  City  authorities  very  properly 
refused  to  let  them  pass  through  Temple  Bar,  but 
they  waited  there  and  saluted  the  Masons.  Hogarth 
published  a  print  of  "The  Scald  Miserables,"  which 
is  coarse,  and  even  dull.  The  Prince  of  Wales,  with 
more  good  sense  than  usual,  dismissed  Carey  for 
this  offensive  buffoonery.  Whitehead  bequeathed 
his  heart  to  Earl  Despenser,  who  buried  it  in  his 
mausoleum  with  absurd  ceremonial. 

At  Pemberton  Row,  formerly  Three-Leg  Alley, 
Fetter  Lane,  lived  that  very  indifferent  poet  but 
admirable  miniature-painter  of  Charles  II.'s  time, 
Flatman.  He  was  a  briefless  barrister  of  the 
Inner  Temple,  and  resided  with  his  father  till  the 
period  of  his  death.  Anthony  Wood  tells  us  that 
having  written  a  scurrilous  ballad  'against  marriage, 
beginning, — 

"  Like  a  dog  with  a  bottle  tied  close  to  his  tail, 
Like  a  Tory  in  a  bog,  or  a  thief  in  a  jail," 

his  comrades  serenaded  him  with  the  song  on  his 
wedding-night.  Rochester  wrote  some  vigorous 
lines  on  Flatman,  which  are  not  unworthy  even  of 
Dryden  himself, — 

"  Not  that  slow  drudge,  in  swift  Pindaric  strains, 
Flatman,  who  Cowley  imitates  with  pains. 
And  drives  a  jaded  Muse,  whipt  with  loose  reins." 


100 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


We  find  Dr.  Johnson  quoting  these  lines  with 
approval,  in  a  conversation  in  which  he  suggested 
that  Pope  had  partly  borrowed  his  "Dying 
Christian  "  from  Flatman. 

"  The  chapel  of  the  United  Brethren,  or  Mora- 
vians, 32,  Fetter  Lane,"  says  Smith,  in  his  "Streets  of 
London,"  "was  the  meeting-house  of  the  celebrated 
Thomas  Bradbury.  During  the  riots  which  occurred 
on  the  trial  of  Dr.  Sacheveral,  this  chapel  was  as- 
saulted by  the  mob  and  dismantled,  the  preacher 
himself  escaping  with  some  difficulty.  The  other 
meeting-houses  that  suffered  on  this  occasion  were 
those  of  Daniel  Burgess,  in  New  Court,  Carey 
Street ;  Mr.  Earl's,  in  Hanover  Street,  Long  Acre ; 
Mr.  Taylor's,  Leather  Lane;  Mr.  Wright's,  Great 
Carter  Lane;  and  Mr.  Hamilton's,  in  St.  John's 
Square,  Clerkenwell.  With  the  benches  and  pulpits 
of  several  of  these,  the  mob,  after  conducting  Dr. 
Sacheveral  in  triumph  to  his  lodgings  in  the 
Temple,  made  a  bonfire  in  the  midst  of  Lincoln's 
Inn  Fields,  around  which  they  danced  with  shouts 
of  *  High  Church  and  Sacheveral,'  swearing,  if  they 
found  Daniel  Burgess,  that  they  would  roast  him  in 
his  own  pulpit  in  the  midst  of  the  pile." 

This  Moravian  chapel  was  one  of  the  original 
eight  conventicles  where  Divine  worship  was  per- 
mitted. Baxter  preached  here  in  1672,  and  Wesley 
and  Whitefield  also  struck  great  blows  at  the  devil 
in  this  pulpit,  where  Zinzendorfs  followers  after- 
wards prayed  and  sang  their  fervent  hymns. 

Count  Zinzendorf,  the  poet,  theologian,  pastor, 
missionary,  and  statesman,  who  first  gave  the 
Moravian  body  a  vital  organisation,  and  who 
preached  in  Fetter  Lane  to  the  most  tolerant  class 
of  all  Protestants,  was  born  in  Dresden  in  1700. 
His  ancestors,  originally  from  Austria,  had  been 
Crusaders  and  Counts  of  Zinzendorf.  One  of 
the  Zinzendorfs  had  been  among  the  earliest  con- 
verts to  Lutheranism,  and  became  a  voluntary  exile 
for  the  faith.  The  count's  father  was  one  of  the 
Pietists,  a  sect  protected  by  the  first  king  of 
Prussia,  the  father  of  Frederick  the  Great  The 
founder  of  the  Pietists  laid  special  stress  on  the 
doctrine  of  conversion  by  a  sudden  transformation 
of  the  heart  and  will.  It  was  a  young  Moravian 
missionary  to  Georgia  who  first  induced  Wesley  to 
embrace  the  vital  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith. 
For  a  long  time  there  was  a  close  kinsmanship 
maintained  between  Whitefield,  the  Wesleys,  and 
the  Moravians  ;  but  eventually  Wesley  pronounced 
Zinzendorf  as  verging  on  Antinomianism,  while 
Zinzendorf  objected  to  Wesley's  doctrine  of  sinless 
perfection.  In  1722  Zinzendorf  gave  an  asylum  to 
two  families  of  persecuted  Moravian  brothers,  and 
built  houses  for  them  on  a  spot  he  called  Hernhut 


("  watched  of  the  Lord  "),  a  marshy  tract  in  Saxony, 
near  the  main  road  to  Zittau. .  These  simple  and 
pious  men  were  Taborites,  a  section  of  the  old 
Hussites,  who  had  renounced  obedience  to  the 
Pope  and  embraced  the  Vaudois  doctrines.  This 
was  the  first  formation  of  the  Moravian  sect. 

"  On  January  24th,  1672-73,"  says  Baxter,  "I 
began  a  Tuesday  lecture  at  Mr.  Turner's  church,  in 
New  Street,  near  Fetter  Lane,  with  great  convenience 
and  God's  encouraging  blessing  ;  but  I  never  took 
a  penny  for  it  from  any  one."  The  chapel  in  which 
Baxter  officiated  in  Fetter  Lane  is  that  between 
Nevil's  Court  and  New  Street,  once  occupied  by 
the  Moravians.  It  appears  to  have  existed,  tliough 
perhaps  in  a  different  forai,  before  the  Great  Fire  of 
London.  Turner,  who  was  the  first  minister,  was 
a  very  active  man  during  the  plague.  He  was 
ejected  from  Sunbury,  in  Middlesex,  and  continued 
to  preach  in  Fetter  Lane  till  towards  the  end  of 
the  reign  of  Charles  II.,  when  he  removed  to 
Leather  Lane.  Baxter  carried  on  the  Tuesday 
morning  lecture  till  the  24th  of  August,  1682.  The 
Church  which  then  met  in  it  was  under  the  care  of 
Mr.  Lobb,  whose  predecessor  had  been  Thankful 
Owen,  president  of  St.  John's  College,  Oxford. 
Ejected  by  the  commissioners  in  t66o,  he  be- 
came a  preacher  in  Fetter  Lane.  "  He  was,"  says 
Calamy,  "a  man  of  genteel  learning  and  an 
excellent  temper,  admir'd  for  an  uncommon  fluency 
and  easiness  and  sweetness  in  all  his  composures. 
After  he  was  ejected  he  retired  to  London,  where 
he  preached  privately  and  was  much  respected. 
He  dy'd  at  his  house  in  Hatton  Garden,  April  i, 
1 68 1.  He  was  preparing  for  the  press,  and  had 
almost  finished,  a  book  entituled  '  Imago  Imaginis,' 
the  design  of  which  was  to  show  that  Rome  Papal 
was  an  image  of  Rome  Pagan." 

At  No.  96,  Fetter  Lane  is  an  Independent  Chapel, 
whose  first  minister  was  Dr.  Thomas  Goodwin,  1660- 
168 1 — troublous  times  for  Dissenters.  Goodwin 
had  been  a  pastor  in  Holland  and  a  favourite  of 
Cromwell.  The  Protector  made  him  one  of  his  com- 
missioners for  selecting  preachers,  and  he  was  also 
President  of  Magdalen  College,  Oxford.  When 
Cromwell  became  sick  unto  death,  Goodwin  boldly 
prophesied  his  recovery,  and  when  the  great  man 
died,  in  spite  of  him,  he  is  said  to  have  exclaimed, 
"  Thou  hast  deceived  us,  and  we  are  deceived ;" 
which  is  no  doubt  a  Cavalier  calumny.  On  the 
Restoration,  the  Oxford  men  showed  Goodwin  the 
door,  and  he  retired  to  the  seclusion  of  Fetter  Lane. 
He  seems  to  have  been  a  good  scholar  and  an 
eminent  Calvinist  divine,  and  he  left  on  Puritan 
shelves  five  ponderous  folio  volumes  of  his  works. 
The  present  chapel,  says  Mr.  Noble,  dates  from 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.]        THE  RECORD  OFFICE  AND  ITS  TREASURES. 


101 


1732,  and  the  pastor  is  the  Rev,  John  Spurgeon, 
the  father  of  the  eloquent  Baptist  preacher,  the 
Rev.  C.  H.  Spurgeon. 

The  disgraceful  disorder  of  the  national  records 
had  long  been  a  subject  of  regret  among  English 
antiquaries.  There  was  no  certainty  of  finding 
any  required  document  among  such  a  mass  of 
ill-stored,  dusty,  unclassified  bundles  and  rolls — 
many  of  them  never  opened  since  the  day  King 
John  sullenly  signed  Magna  Charta.  We  are  a 
great  conservative  people,  and  abuses  take  a  long 
time  ripening  before  they  seem  to  us  fit  for  re- 
moval, so  it  happened  that  this  evil  went  on 
several  centuries  before  it  roused  the  attention  of 
Parliament,  and  then  it  was  talked  over  and  over, 
till  in  1850  something  was  at  last  done.  It  was 
resolved  to  build  a  special  storehouse  for  national 
records,  where  the  various  collections  might  be 
united  under  one  roof,  and  there  be  arranged  and 
classified  by  learned  men.  The  first  stone  of  a 
magnificent  Gothic  building  was  therefore  laid 
by  Lord  Romilly  on  24th  May,  185 1,  and  slowly 
and  surely,  in  the  Anglo-Saxoh  manner,  the  walls 
grew  till,  in  the  summer  of  1866,  all  the  new 
Search  Offices  were  formally  opened,  to  the  great 
convenience  of  all  students  of  records.  The  archi- 
tect. Sir  James  Pennethorne,  has  produced  a  stately 
building,  useful  for  its  purpose,  but  not  very  re- 
markable for  picturesque  light  and  shade,  and  tame, 
as  all  imitations  of  bygone  ages,  adapted  for  bygone 
uses,  must  ever  be.  The  number  of  records  stored 
within  this  building  can  only  be  reckoned  by 
'■^hundreds  of  Millions.'^  These  are  Sir  Thomas 
Duffus  Hardy's  own  words.  There,  in  cramped 
bundles  and  rolls,  dusty  as  papyri,  lie  charters  and 
ofiicial  notices  that  once  made  mailed  knights 
tremble  and  proud  priests  shake  in  their  sandals. 
Now — the  magic  gone,  the  words  powerless — they 
lie  in  their  several  binns  in  strange  companionship. 
Many  years  will  elapse  before  all  these  records  of 
State  and  Government  documents  can  be  classi- 
fied ;  but  the  small  staff  is  industrious.  Sir  Thomas 
Hardy  is  working,  and  in  time  the  Augean  stable 
of  crabbed  writings  will  be  cleansed  and  ranged  in 
order.  The  useful  and  accurate  calendars  of 
Everett  Green,  John  Bruce,  &c.,  are  books  of 
reference  invaluable  to  historical  students;  and 
the  old  chronicles  pubUshed  by  order  of  Lord 
Romilly,  so  long  Master  of  the  Rolls  and  Keeper 
of  the  Records,  are  most  useful  mines  for  the 
Froudes  and  Freemans  of  the  future.  In  time  it 
is  hoped  that  all  the  episcopal  records  of  England 
will  be  gathered  together  in  this  great  treasure- 
house,  and  that  many  of  our  English  noblemen 
will    imitate    the    patriotic    generosity    of   Lord 


Shaftesbury,  in  contributing  their  family  papers  to 
the  same  Gaza  in  Fetter  Lane.  Under  the  concen  - 
trated  gaze  of  learned  eyes,  family  papers  (valueless 
and  almost  unintelligible  to  their  original  posses- 
sors), often  reveal  very  curious  and  important  facts. 
Mere  lumber  in  the  manor-house,  fit  only  for  the 
butterman,  sometimes  turns  to  leaves  of  gold 
when  submitted  to  such  microscopic  analysis. 
It  was  such  a  gift  that  led  to  the  discovery  of  the 
Locke  papers  among  the  records  of  the  nobleman 
above  mentioned.  The  pleasant  rooms  of  the 
Record  Office  are  open  to  all  applicants ;  nor  is 
any  reference  or  troublesome  preliminary  form 
required  from  those  wishing  to  consult  Court 
rolls  or  State  papers  over  twenty  years  old. 
Among  other  priceless  treasures  the  Record  Office 
contains  the  original,  uninjured,  Domesday  Book, 
compiled  by  order  of  William,  the  conqueror  of 
England.  It  is  written  in  a  beautiful  clerkly  hand 
in  close  fine  character,  and  is  in  a  perfect  state  of 
preservation.  It  is  in  two  volumes,  the  covers  of 
which  are  cut  with  due  economy  from  the  same 
skin  of  parchment.  Bound  in  massive  board 
covers,  and  kept  with  religious  care  under  glass 
cases,  the  precious  volumes  seem  indeed  likely  to 
last  to  the  very  break  of  doom.  It  is  curious  to 
remark  that  London  only  occupies  some  three  or 
four  pages.  There  is  also  preserved  the  original 
Papal  Bull  sent  to  Henry  VIII.,  with  a  golden 
seal  attached  to  it,  the  work  of  Benvenuto  Cellini. 
The  same  collection  contains  the  celebrated  Treaty 
of  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold,  the  initial  por- 
trait of  Francis  I.  being  beautifully  illuminated  and 
the  vellum  volume  adorned  by  an  exquisite  gold 
seal,  in  the  finest  relievo,  also  by  Benvenuto  Cellini. 
The  figures  in  this  seal  are  so  perfect  in  their  finish, 
that  even  the  knee-cap  of  one  of  the  nymphs  is 
shaped  with  the  strictest  anatomical  accuracy.  The 
visitor  should  also  see  the  interesting  Inventory 
Books  relating  to  the  foundation  of  Henry  VII.'s 
chapel. 

The  national  records  were  formerly  bundled  up 
any  how  in  the  Rolls  Chapel,  the  White  Tower, 
the  Chapter  House,  Westminster  Abbey,  Carlton 
Ride  in  St.  James's  Park,  the  State  Paper  Office, 
and  the  Prerogative  Will  Office,  No  one  knew 
where  anything  was.  They  were  unnoticed — mere 
dusty  lumber,  in  fact — useless  to  men  or  printers' 
devils.  Hot-headed  Hugh  Peters,  during  the 
Commonwealth,  had,  in  his  hatred  of  royalty, 
proposed  to  make  one  great  heap  of  them  and 
bum  them  up  in  Smithfield.  In  that  way  he  hoped 
to  clear  the  ground  of  many  mischievous  traditions. 
This  desperate  act  of  Communism  that  tough- 
headed  old  lawyer,  Prynne,  opposed  tooth  and  nail. 


102 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


In  1656  he  wrote  a  pamphlet,  which  he  called 
"A  Short  Demurrer  against  Cromwell's  Project 
of  Recalling  the  Jews  from  their  Banishment,"  and 
in  this  work  he  very  nobly  epitomizes  the  value  of 
these  treasures ;  indeed,  there  could  not  be  found 
a  more  lucid  syllabus  of  the  contents  of  the  present 
Record  Office  than  Prynne  has  there  set  forth. 


breakfast  with  the  Duke  of  Buckingham."    "  The 

d he  is,"  said  Otway,  and,  actuated  either  by 

envy,  pride,  or  disappointment,  in  a  kind  of  in- 
voluntary manner,  he  took  up  ii  piece  of  chalk  which 
lay  on  a  table  which  stood  upon  the  landing-place, 
near  Dryden's  chamber,  and  wrote  over  the  door, — 
"  Here  lives  Dryden,  a  poet  and  a  wit." 


HOUSE  SAID  TO  HAVE   BEEN   OCCUPIED   BY   DRYDEN   IN   FETTER   LANE   {see  page   102), 


Dryden  and  Otway  were  contemporaries,  and 
lived,  it  is  sa-id,  for  some  time  opposite  to  each  other 
in  Fetter  Lane.  One  morning  the  latter  happened 
to  call  upon  his  brother  bard  about  breakfast- 
time,  but  was  told  by  the  servant  that  his  master 
was  gone  to  breakfast  with  the  Earl  of  Pembroke. 
**  Very  well,"  said  Otway,  "  tell  your  master  that  I 
will  call  to-morrow  morning."  Accordingly  he 
called  about  the  same  hour.  "  Well,  is  your  master 
at  home  now?"     "No,  sir;  he  is  just  gone  to 


The  next  morning,  at  breakfast,  Dryden  recognised 
the  handwriting,  and  told  the  servant  to  go  to 
Otway  and  desire  his  company  to  breakfast  with 
him.     In  the  meantime,  to  Otway's  line  of 

"  Here  lives  Dryden,  a  poet  and  a  wit" 
he  added, — 

"  This  was  written  by  Otway,  opposite:' 

^Vhen  Otway  arrived  he  saw  that  hia  line  was 
linked  with  a  rhyme,  and  being  a  man  of  rather 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


RIVAL   POETS. 


103 


t04 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


petulant  disposition,  he  took  it  in  dudgeon,  and, 
turning  upon  his  heel,  told  Dryden  "  that  he  was 
welcome  to  keep  his  wit  and  his  breakfast  to 
himself." 

A  curious  old  book,  a  vade  meciim  for  malt  worms, 
teoip.  George  L,  thus  immortalises  the  patriotism 
of  a  tavern-keeper  in  Fetter  Lane : — 


'  Though  there  are  some  who,  with  invidious  look, 
Have  styl'd  this  bird  more  like  a  Russian  duck 
Than  what  he  stands  depicted  for  on  sign, 
He  proves  he  well  has  croaked  for  prey  within. 
From  massy  tankards,  formed  of  silver  plate, 
That  walk  throughout  this  noted  house  in  state, 
Ever  since  Englesfield,  in  Annans  reign. 
To  compliment  each  fortunate  campaign. 
Made  one  be  hammered  out  for  ev'ry  town  was  ta'ea.' 


CHAPTER     IX. 
FLEET  STREET  (TRIBUTARIES— CRANE  COURT,  JOHNSON'S  COURT,   BOLT  COURT). 

Removal  of  the  Royal  Society  from  Gresham  College— Opposition  to  Newton— Objections  to  Removal— The  First  Catalogue— Swift's  jeer  at  the 
Society— Franklin's  Lightning  Conductor  and  King  George  III.— Sir  Hans  Sloane  insulted— The  Scottish  Society— Wilkes's  Printer— 
The  Delphin  Classics— Johnson's  Court— Johnson's  Opinion  on  Pope  and  Dryden— His  Removal  to  Bolt  Court— The  John  Bull— Hook 
and  Terry — Prosecutions  for  Libel — Hook's  Impudence. 


In  the  old  times,  when  newspapers  could  not 
legally  be  published  without  a  stamp,  "  various  in- 
genious devices,"  says  a  writer  in  the  Bookseller 
(1867),  "  were  employed  to  deceive  and  mislead  the 
officers  employed  by  the  Government.  Many  of 
the  unstamped  papers  were  printed  in  Crane  Court, 
Fleet  Street;  and  there,  on  their  several  days  of 
publication,  the  officers  of  the  Somerset  House  soli- 
citor would  watch,  ready  to  seize  them  immediately 
they  came  from  the  press.  But  the  printers  were 
quite  equal  to  the  emergency.  They  would  make  up 
sham  parcels  of  waste-paper,  and  send  them  out 
with  an  ostentatious  show  of  secrecy.  The  officers 
— simple  fellows  enough,  though  they  were  called 
'Government  spies,'  'Somerset  House  myrmidons,' 
and  other  opprobrious  names,  in  the  unstamped 
papers — duly  took  possession  of  the  parcels,  after  a 
decent  show  of  resistance  by  their  bearers,  while 
the  real  newspapers  intended  for  sale  to  the  public 
were  sent  flying  by  thousands  down  a  shoot  in 
Fleur-de-Lys  Court,  and  thence  distributed  in  the 
course  of  the  next  hour  or  two  all  over  the 
town." 

The  Royal  Society  came  to  Crane  Court  from 
Gresham  College  in  17 10,  and  removed  in  1782  to 
Somerset  House.  This  society,  according  to  Dr. 
Wallis,  one  of  the  earliest  members,  originated  in 
London  in  1645,  when  Dr.  Wilkins  and  certain 
philosophical  friends  met  weekly  to  discuss  scientific 
questions.  They  afterwards  met  at  Oxford,  and  in 
Gresham  College,  till  that  place  was  turned  into  a 
Puritan  barracks.  After  the  Restoration,  in  1662, 
the  king,  wishing  to  turn  men's  minds  to  philosophy 
—or,  indeed,  anywhere  away  from  politics — incor- 


porated the  members  in  what  Boyle  has  called 
"  the  Invisible  College,"  and  gave  it  the  name  of 
the  Royal  Society.  In  17 10,  the  Mercers'  Com- 
pany growing  tired  of  their  visitors,  the  society 
moved  to  a  house  rebuilt  by  Wren  in  1670,  and  pur- 
chased by  the  society  for  ;^i,45o.  It  had  been  the 
residence,  before  the  Great  Fire,  of  Dr.  Nicholas 
Barebone  (son  of  Praise-God  Barebone),  a  great 
building  speculator,  who  had  much  property  in  the 
Strand,  and  who  was  the  first  promoter  of  the 
Phoenix  Fire  Office.  It  seems  to  have  been 
thought  at  the  time  that  Newton  was  somewhat 
despotic  in  his  announcement  of  the  removal,  and 
the  members  in  council  grumbled  at  the  new  house, 
and  complained  of  it  as  small,  inconvenient,  and 
dilapidated.  Nevertheless,  Sir  Isaac,  unaccus- 
tomed to  opposition,  overruled  all  these  objections, 
and  the  society  flourished  in  this  Fleet  Street 
"  close  "  seventy-two  years.  Before  the  society 
came  to  Crane  Court,  Pepys  and  Wren  had  been 
presidents;  while  at  Crane  Court  the  presidents 
were — Newton  (1703-1727),  Sir  Thomas  Hoare, 
Matthew  Folkes,  Esq.  (whose  portrait  Hogarth 
painted),  the  Earl  of  Macclesfield,  the  Earl  of 
Morton,  James  Burrow,  Esq.,  James  West,  Esq., 
Sir  John  Pringle,  and  Sir  Joseph  Banks.  The 
earliest  records  of  this  useful  society  are  filled  with 
accounts  of  experiments  on  the  Baconian  induc- 
tive principle,  many  of  which  now  appear  to  us 
puerile,  but  which  were  valuable  in  the  childhood  of 
science.  Among  the  labours  of  the  society  while  in 
Fleet  Street,  we  may  enumerate  its  efforts  to  promote 
inoculation,  17 14-1722;  electrical  experiments  on 
fourteen  miles  of  wires  near  Shooter's  Hill,  1745  ; 


Fleet  ^feft  Tributaries.] 


THE  ROYAL  SOCIETY   IN   ITS   INFANCY. 


'05 


ventilation,  apropos  of  gaol  fever,  1750;  discus- 
sions on  Cavendish's  improved  thermometers,  1757; 
a  medal  to  Dollond  for  experiments  on  the  laws  of 
light,  1758;  observations  on  the  transit  of  Venus, 
in  1761  ;  superintendence  of  the  Observatory  at 
Greenwich,  1765  ;  observations  of  the  transit  of 
Venus  in  the  Pacific,  1769  (Lieutenant  Cook  com- 
menced the  expedition) ;  the  promotion  of  an 
Arctic  expedition,  1773 ;  the  Racehorse  meteoro- 
logical observations,  1773;  experiments  on  light- 
ning conductors  by  Franklin,  Cavendish,  &c.,  1772. 
The  removal  of  the  society  was,  as  we  have  said, 
at  first  strongly  objected  to,  and  in  a  pamphlet 
published  at  the  time,  the  new  purchase  is  thus 
described  :  "  The  approach  to  it,  I  confess,  is  very 
fair  and  handsome,  through  a  long  court ;  but,  then, 
they  have  no  other  property  in  this  than  in  the 
street  before  it,  and  in  a  heavy  rain  a  man  ma^ 
hardly  escape  being  thoroughly  wet  before  he  can 
pass  through  it.  The  front  of  the  house  towards 
the  garden  is  nearly  half  as  long  again  as  that 
towards  Crane  Court.  Upon  the  ground  floor  there 
is  a  little  hall,  and  a  direct  passage  from  the  stairs 
into  the  garden,  and  on  each  side  of  it  a  little 
room.  The  stairs  are  easy,  which  carry  you  up  to 
the  next  floor.  Here  there  is  a  room  fronting  the 
court,  directly  over  the  hall ;  and  towards  the  garden 
is  the  meeting-room,  and  at  the  end  another,  also 
fronting  the  garden.  There  are  three  rooms  upon 
the  next  floor.  These  are  all  that  are  as  yet  pro- 
vided for  the  reception  of  the  society,  except  you 
will  have  the  garrets,  a  platform  of  lead  over  them, 
and  the  usual  cellars,  &c.,  below,  of  which  they 
have  more  and  better  at  Gresham  College." 

When  the  society  got  settled,  by  Newton's  order 
the  porter  was  clothed  in  a  suitable  gown  and  pro- 
vided with  a  staff  surmounted  by  the  arms  of  the 
society  in  silver,  and  on  the  meeting  nights  a  lamp 
was  hung  out  over  the  entrance  to  the  court  from 
Fleet  Street.  The  repository  was  built  at  the  rear 
of  the  house,  and  thither  the  society's  museum 
was  removed.  The  first  catalogue,  compiled  by 
Dr.  Green,  contains  the  following,  among  many 
other  marvellous  notices : — 

"The  quills  of  a  porcupine,  which  on  certain 
occasions  the  creature  can  shoot  at  the  pursuing 
enemy  and  erect  at  pleasure. 

"  The  flying  squirrel,  which  for  a  good  nut-tree 
will  pass  a  river  on  the  bark  of  a  tree,  erecting 
his  tail  for  a  sail. 

"  The  leg-bone  of  an  elephant,  brought  out  of 
Syria  for  the  thigh-bone  of  a  giant.  In  winter, 
when  it  begins  to  rain,  elephants  are  mad,  and  so 
continue  from  April  to  September,  chained  to  some 
tree,  and  then  become  tame  again. 


"  'I'ortoises,  when  turned  on  their  backs,  will 
sometimes  fetch  deep  sighs  and  shed  abundance 
of  tears. 

"  A  humming-bird  and  nest,  said  to  weigh  but 
twelve  grains;  his  feathers  are  set  in  gold,  an4 
sell  at  a  great  rate. 

"  A  bone,  said  to  be  taken  out  of  a  mermaid's 
head. 

"  The  largest  whale — liker  an  island  than  an 
animal. 

"The  white  shark,  which  sometimes  swallows 
men  whole. 

"  A  siphalter,  said  with  its  sucker  to  fasten  on  a 
ship  and  stop  it  under  sail. 

"  A  stag-beetle,  whose  horns,  worn  in  a  ring,  are 
good  against  the  cramp. 

"A  mountain  cabbage — one  reported  300  feet 
high." 

The  author  of  "  Hudibras,"  who  died  in  1680, 
attacked  the  Royal  Society  for  experiments  that 
seemed  to  him  futile  and  frivolous,  in  a  severe 
and  bitter  poem,  entitled,  "The  Elephant  in  the 
Moon,"  the  elephant  proving  to  be  a  mouse 
inside  a  philosopher's  telescope.  The  poem 
expresses  the  current  opinion  of  the  society, 
on  which  King  Charles  II.  is  once  said  to  have 
played  a  joke. 

In  1726-27  Swift,  too,  had  his  bitter  jeer  at  the 
society.  In  Laputa,  he  thus  describes  the  ex- 
perimental philosophers : — 

"  The  first  man  I  saw,"  he  says,  "  was  of  a  meagre 
aspect,  with  sooty  hands  and  face,  his  hair  and 
beard  long,  ragged,  and  singed  in  several  places. 
His  clothes,  shirt,  and  skin,  were  all  of  the  same 
colour.  He  had  been  eight  years  upon  a  project 
for  extracting  sunbeams  out  of  cucumbers,  which 
were  to  be  put  in  phials  hermetically  sealed,  and 
let  out  to  warm  the  air  in  raw,  inclement  summers. 
He  told  me  he  did  not  doubt  that,  in  eight 
years  more,  he  should  be  able  to  supply  the 
governor's  gardens  with  sunshine  at  a  reasonable 
rate ;  but  he  complained  that  his  stock  was  low, 
and  entreated  me  *to  give  him  something  as  an 
encouragement  to  ingenuity,  especially  since  this 
had  been  a  very  dear  season  for  cucumbers.'  I 
made  him  a  small  present,  for  my  lord  had  fur- 
nished me  with  money  on  purpose,  because  he 
knew  their  practice  of  begging  from  all  who  go  to 
see  them.  I  saw  another  at  work  to  calcine  ice  into 
gunpowder,  who  likewise  showed  me  a  treatise  he 
had  written  concerning  the  *  Malleability  of  Fire,' 
which  he  intended  to  publish. 

"  There  was  a  most  ingenious  architect,  who  had 
contrived  a  new  method  of  building  houses,  by 
beginning  at  the  roof  and  working  downward  to 


io6 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


Fleet  Street  Tnbutwies. 


the  foundation ;  which  he  justified  to  me  by  the 
like  practice  of  those  two  prudent  insects,  the  bee 
and  the  spider.  I  went  into  another  room, 
where  the  walls  and  ceilings  were  all  hung  round 
with  cobwebs,  except  a  narrow  passage  for  the 
architect  to  go  in  and  out.  At  my  entrance,  he 
called  aloud  to  me  'not  to  disturb  his  webs.* 
He  lamented  'the  fatal  mistake  the  world  had 
been  so  long  in,  of  using  silk-worms,  while  we  had 
such  plenty  of  domestic  insects  who  infinitely 
excelled  the  former,  because  they  understood  how 
to  weave  as  well  as  spin.'  And  he  proposed, 
farther,  *  that,  by  employing  spiders,  the  charge 
of  dying  silks  would  be  wholly  saved;'  whereof 
I  was  fully  convinced  when  he  showed  me  a  vast 
number  of  flies,  most  beautifully  coloured,  where- 
with he  fed  his  spiders,  assuring  us,  '  that  the  webs 
would  take  a  tincture  from  them  ;'  and,  as  he  had 
them  of  all  hues,  he  hoped  to  fit  everybody's 
fancy,  as  soon  as  he  could  find  proper  food  for  the 
flies,  of  certain  gums,  oils,  and  other  glutinous 
matter,  to  give  a  strength  and  consistence  to  the 
threads." 

Mr.  Grosley,  who,  in  1770,  at  Lausanne,  published 
a  book  on  London,  has  drawn  a  curious  picture 
of  the  society  at  that  date.  "  The  Royal  Society," 
he  says,  "combines  within  itself  the  purposes  of 
the  Parisian  Academy  of  Sciences  and  that  of 
Inscriptions ;  it  cultivates,  in  fact,  not  only  the 
higher  branches  of  science,  but  literature  also. 
Every  one,  whatever  his  position,  and  whether 
English  or  foreign,  who  has  made  observations 
which  appear  to  the  society  worthy  of  its  attention, 
is  allowed  to  submit  them  to  it  either  by  word  of 
mouth  or  in  writing.  I  once  saw  a  joiner,  in  his 
working  clothes,  announce  to  the  society  a  means 
he  had  discovered  of  explaining  the  causes  of  tides. 
He  spoke  a  long  time,  evidently  not  knowing 
what  he  was  talking  about;  but  he  was  listened 
to  with  the  greatest  attention,  thanked  for  his 
confidence  in  the  value  of  the  society's  opinion, 
requested  to  put  his  ideas  into  writing,  and  con- 
ducted to  the  door  by  one  of  the  principal 
members. 

"The  place  in  which  the  society  holds  its 
meetings  is  neither  large  nor  handsome.  It  is  a 
long,  low,  narrow  room,  only  furnished  with  a 
table  (covered  with  green  cloth),  some  morocco 
chairs,  and  some  wooden  benches,  which  rise 
above  each  other  along  the  room.  The  table, 
placed  in  front  of  the  fire-place  at  the  bottom  of 
the  room,  is  occupied  by  the  president  (who  sits 
with  his  back  to  the  fire)  and  the  secretaries. 
On  this  table  is  placed  a  large  silver-gilt  mace, 
similar  to  the  one  in  use  in  the  House  of  Commons, 


and  which,  as  is  the  case  with  the  latter,  is  laid  at 
the  foot  of  the  table  when  the  society  is  in  com- 
mittee. The  president  is  preceded  on  his  entrance 
and  departure  by  the  beadle  of  the  society,  bearing 
this  mace.  He  has  beside  him,  on  his  table,  a 
little  wooden  mallet  for  the  purpose  of  imposing 
silence  when  occasion  arises,  but  this  is  very 
seldom  the  case.  With  the  exception  of  the 
secretaries  and  the  president,  everyone  takes  his 
place  hap-hazard,  at  the  same  time  taking  great 
pains  to  avoid  causing  any  confusion  or  noise.  The 
society  may  be  said  to  consist,  as  a  body  coriDorate, 
of  a  committee  of  about  twenty  persons,  chosen 
from  those  of  its  associates  who  have  the  fuller 
opportunities  of  devoting  themselves  to  their 
favourite  studies.  The  president  and  the  secre- 
taries are  ex-officio  members  of  the  committee, 
which  is  renewed  every  year — an  arrangement 
which  is  so  much  the  more  necessary  that,  in  1765, 
the  society  numbered  400  British  members,  of 
whom  more  than  forty  were  peers  of  the  realm,  five 
of  the  latter  being  most  assiduous  members  of  the 
committee. 

"The  foreign  honorary  members,  who  number 
about  150,  comprise  within  their  number  all  the 
most  famous  learned  men  of  Europe,  and  amongst 
them  we  find  the  names  of  D'Alembert,  Bernouilli, 
Bonnet,  Bufibn,  Euler,  Jussieu,  Linnd,  Voltaire, 
&c.;  together  with  those,  in  simple  alphabetical 
order,  of  the  Dukes  of  Braganza,  &c,,  and  the 
chief  Ministers  of  many  European  sovereigns." 

During  the  dispute  about  lightning  conductors 
(after  St.  Bride's  Church  was  struck  in  1764),  in 
the  year  1772,  George  III.  (says  Mr.  Weld,  in 
his  "  History  of  the  Royal  Society ")  is  stated  to 
have  taken  the  side  of  Wilson — not  on  scientific 
grounds,  but  from  political  motives ;  he  even  had 
blunt  conductors  fixed  on  his  palace,  and  actually 
endeavoured  to  make  the  Royal  Society  rescind 
their  resolution  in  favour  of  pointed  conductors. 
The  king,  it  is  declared,  had  an  interview  with 
Sir  John  Pringle,  during  which  his  Majesty  ear- 
nestly entreated  him  to  use  his  influence  in  sup- 
porting Mr.  Wilson.  The  reply  of  the  president 
was  highly  honourable  to  himself  and  the  society 
whom  he  represented.  It  was  to  the  effect  that 
duty  as  well  as  inclination  would  always  induce 
him  to  execute  his  Majesty's  wishes  to  the  utmost 
of  his  power ;  "  But,  sire,"  said  he,  "  I  cannot 
reverse  the  laws  and  operations  of  Nature."  It 
is  stated  that  when  Sir  John  regretted  his  inability 
to  alter  the  laws  of  Nature,  the  king  replied, 
"  Perhaps,  Sir  John,  you  had  better  resign."  It 
was  shortly  after  this  occurrence  that  a  friend  of 
Dr.  Franklin's  wrote  this  epigram  : — 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries,] 


THE  SCOTTISH  SOCIETY. 


107 


•'  While  you,  great  George,  for  knowledge  hunt, 
And  sharp  conductors  change  for  blunt, 

The  nation's  out  of  joint  ; 
Franklin  a  wiser  course  pursues, 
And  all  your  thunder  useless  views, 

By  keeping  to  the  point. " 

A  Strange  scene  in  the  Royal  Society  in  17 10 
(Queen  Anne)  deserves  record.  It  ended  in  the 
expulsion  from  the  council  of  that  irascible  Dr. 
Woodward  who  once  fought  a  duel  with  Dr.  Mead 
inside  the  gate  of  Gresham  College.  "  The  sense," 
says  Mr.  Ward,  in  his  "  Memoirs,"  "  entertained 
by  the  society  of  Sir  Hans  Sloane's  services  and 
virtues  was  evinced  by  the  manner  in  which  they 
resented  an  insult  offered  him  by  Dr.  Woodward, 
who,  as  the  reader  is  aware,  was  expelled  the 
council.  Sir  Hans  was  reading  a  paper  of  his  own 
composition,  when  Woodward  made  some  grossly 
insulting  remarks.  Dr.  Sloane  complained,  and 
moreover  stated  that  Dr.  Woodward  had  often 
affronted  him  by  making  grimaces  at  him ;  upon 
which  Dr.  Arbuthnot  rose  and  begged  to  be  '  in- 
formed what  distortion  of  a  man's  face  constituted 
a  grimace.'  Sir  Isaac  Newton  was  in  the  chair 
when  the  question  of  expulsion  was  agitated,  and 
when  it  was  pleaded  in  Woodward's  favour  that 
*he  was  a  good  natural  philosopher,*  Sir  Isaac 
remarked  that  in  order  to  belong  to  that  society  a 
man  ought  to  be  a  good  moral  philosopher  as  well 
as  a  natural  one." 

The  Scottish  Society  held  its  meetings  in  Crane 
Court.  "  Elizabeth,"  says  Mr.  Timbs,  "  kept  down 
the  number  of  Scotsmen  in  London  to  the  astonish- 
ingly small  one  of  fifty-eight;  but  with  James  I. 
came  such  a  host  of  traders  and  craftsmen,  many  of 
whom  failing  to  obtain  employment,  gave  rise,  as 
early  as  1613,  to  the  institution  of  the  'Scottish 
Box,'  a  sort  of  friendly  society's  treasury,  when 
there  were  no  banks  to  take  charge  of  money.  In 
1638  the  company,  then  only  twenty,  met  in 
Lamb's  Conduit  Street.  In  this  year  upwards  of 
300  poor  Scotsmen,  swept  off  by  the  great  plague 
of  1665-66,  were  buried  at  the  expense  of  the 
*  box,'  while  numbers  more  were  nourished  during 
their  sickness,  without  subjecting  the  parishes  in 
which  they  resided  to  the  smallest  expense. 

"In  the  year  1665  the  'box'  was  exalted  into  the 
character  of  a  corporation  by  a  royal  charter,  the 
expenses  attendant  on  which  were  disbursed  by 
gentlemen  who,  when  they  met  at  the  '  Cross  Keys,' 
in  Covent  Garden,  found  their  receipts  to  be 
;^ii6  8s.  5d.  The  character  of  the  times  is  seen 
in  one  of  their  regulations,  which  imposed  a  fine 
of  2s.  6d.  for  every  oath  used  in  the  course  of 
their  quarterly  business. 


"Presents  now  flocked  in.  One  of  the  corpora- 
tion gave  a  silver  cup  ;  another,  an  ivory  mallet 
or  hammer  for  the  chairman ;  and  among  the  con- 
tributors we  find  Gilbert  Burnet,  afterwards  bishop, 
giving  ;^i  half-yearly.  In  no  very  Scotsman-like 
spirit  the  governors  distributed  each  quarter-day 
all  that  had  been  collected  during  the  preceding 
interval.  But  in  1775  a  permanent  fund  was 
established.  The  hospital  now  distributes  about 
p£"2,2oo  a  year,  chiefly  in  ;^io  pensions  to  old 
people  ;  and  the  princely  bequest  of  ;!^7 6,495  ^V 
Mr.  W.  Kinloch,  who  had  realised  a  fortune  in 
India,  allows  of  ;!^i,8oo  being  given  in  pensions 
of  ;£4  to  disabled  soldiers  and  sailors. 

"All  this  is  highly  honourable  to  those  connected, 
by  birth  or  otherwise,  with  Scotland.  The  monthly 
meetings  of  the  society  are  preceded  by  divine 
service  in  the  chapel,  which  is  in  the  rear  of  the 
house  in  Crane  Court.  Twice  a  year  is  held  a 
festival,  at  which  large  sums  are  collected.  On 
St.  Andrew's  Day,  1863,  Viscount  Palmerston  pre- 
sided, with  the  brilliant  result  of  the  addition  of 
;^i,2oo  to  the  hospital  fund." 

Appended  to  the  account  of  the  society  already 
quoted  we  find  the  following  remarkable  "  note  by 
an  Englishman  "  : — 

"  It  is  not  one  of  the  least  curious  particulars  in 
the  history  of  the  Scottish  Hospital  that  it  sub- 
stantiates by  documentary  evidence  the  fact  that 
Scotsmen  who  have  gone  to  England  occasionally 
find  their  way  back  to  their  own  country.  It 
appears  from  the  books  of  the  corporation  that 
in  the  year  ending  30th  November,  1850,  the 
sum  of  ;^3o  1 6s.  6d.  was  spent  in  passages  from 
London  to  Leith ;  and  there  is  actually  a  cor- 
responding society  in  Edinburgh  to  receive  the 
rmenants  and  pass  them  on  to  their  respective 
districts. " 

In  Crane  Court,  says  Mr.  Timbs,  lived  Dryden 
Leach,  the  printer,  who,  in  1763,  was  arrested  on 
a  general  warrant  upon  suspicion  of  having  printed 
Wilkes's  North  Briton,  No  45.  Leach  was  taken 
out  of  his  bed  in  the  night,  his  papers  were  seized, 
and  even  his  journeymen  and  servants  were  appre- 
hended, the  only  foundation  for  the  arrest  being  a 
hearsay  that  Wilkes  had  been  seen  going  into 
Leach's  house.  Wilkes  had  been  sent  to  the  Tower 
for  the  No.  45.  After  much  litigatibn,  he  obtained  a 
verdict  of  ;!^4,ooo,  and  Leach  ;^3oo,  damages  from 
three  of  the  king's  messengers,  who  had  executed 
the  illegal  warrant.  Kearsley,  the  bookseller,  of 
Fleet  Street  (whom  we  recollect  by  his  tax-tables), 
had  been  taken  up  for  publishing  No.  45,  when  also 
at  Kearsley's  were  seized  the  letters  of  Wilkes, 
which  seemed  to  fix  upon  him  the  writing  of  the 


io8 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tnljutanes. 


obscene  and  blasphemous  "  Essay  on  Woman,"  and 
of  which  he  was  convicted  in  the  Court  of  King's 
Bench  and  expelled  the  House  of  Commons.  The 
author  of  this  "  indecent  patchwork "  was  not 
Wilkes  (says  Walpole),  but  Thomas  Potter,  the 
wild  son  of  the  learned  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 


George  Dyer,  of  Clifford's  Inn,  laboriously  edited, 
and  which  opened  the  eyes  of  the  subscribers  very 
wide  indeed  as  to  the  singular  richness  of  ancient 
literature.  At  the  press  of  an  eminent  printer  in 
this  court,  that  useful  and  perennial  serial  the 
Gentleman's  Magazine  (started  in  1731)  was  partly 


THE   ROYAL   SOCIETY'S   HOUSE   IN   CRANE  COURT   (see  page  IO4). 


who  had  tried  to  fix  the  authorship  on  tlie  learned 
and  arrogant  Warburton — a  piece  of  matchless 
impudence  worthy  of  Wilkes  himself. 

Red  Lion  Court  (No.  169),  though  an  unlikely 
spot,  has  been,  of  all  the  side  binns  of  Fleet  Street, 
one  of  the  most  specially  favoured  by  Minerva. 
Here  Valpy  published  that  interminable  series  of 
Latin  and  Greek  authors,  which  he  called  the 
"  Delphin  Classics,"  which  Lamb's  eccentric  friend, 


printed  from  1779  to  1781,  and  entirely  printed 
from  1792  to  1820. 

Johnson's  Court,  Fleet  Street  (a  narrow  court  on 
the  north  side  of  Fleet  Street,  the  fourth  from 
Fetter  Lane,  eastward),  was  not  named  from  Dr. 
Johnson,  although  inhabited  by  him. 

Dr.  Johnson  was  living  at  Johnson's  Court  in 
1765,  after  he  left  No.  i.  Inner  Temple  Lane,  and 
before  he  removed  to  Bolt  Court.     At  Johnson's 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


THE  IMMORTAL  PARASITE. 


109^ 


Court  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  Murphey,  and 
he  worked  at  his  edition  of  "Shakespeare."  He  saw 
much  of  Reynolds  and  Burke.  On  the  accession 
of  George  III.  a  pension  of  ;^3oo  a  year  had 
been  bestowed  on  him,  and  from  that  time  he 
became  comparatively  an  affluent  man.  In  1763, 
Boswell  had  become  acquainted  with  Dr.  Johnson, 


"He  "(Johnson),  says  Hawkins,  "removed from 
the  Temple  into  a  house  in  Johnson's  Court, 
Fleet  Street,  and  invited  thither  his  friend  Mrs. 
Williams.  An  upper  room,  which  had  the  advan- 
tage of  a  good  light  and  free  air,  he  fitted  up  for 
a  study  and  furnished  with  books,  chosen  with  so 
little  regard  to  editions  or  their  external  appearances 


/'    y^^-Z^-z:^<^ 


[Seepage  no). 


and  from  that  period  his  wonderful  conversations 
are  recorded.  The  indefatigable  biographer  de- 
scribes, in  1763,  being  taken  by  Mr.  Levett  to  see 
Dr.  Johnson's  library,  which  was  contained  in  his 
garret  over  his  Temple  chambers,  where  the  son  of 
the  well-known  Lintot  used  to  have  his  warehouse. 
The  floor  was  strewn  with  manuscript  leaves ;  and 
there  was  an  apparatus  for  chemical  experiments,  of 
which  Johnson  was  all  his  life  very  fond.  Johnson 
often  hid  himself  in  this  garret  for  study,  but  never 
told  his  servant,  as  the  Doctor  would  never  allow 
him  to  say  he  was  not  at  home  when  he  was. 
10 


as  showed  they  jwere  intended  for  use,  and  that  he 
disdained  the  ostentation  of  learning." 

"  I  returned  to  London,"  says  Boswell,  "  in 
February,  1766,  and  found  Dr.  Johnson  in  a  good 
house  in  Johnson's  Court,  Fleet  Street,  in  which 
he  had  accommodated  Mrs.  Williams  with  an 
apartment  on  the  ground-floor,  while  Mr.  Levett 
occupied  his  post  in  the  garret.  His  faithful  Francis 
was  still  attending  upon  him.  He  received  me 
with  much  kindness.  The  fragments  of  our  first 
conversation,  which  I  have  preserved,  are  these  : — 
I  told  him  that  Voltaire,  in  a  conversation  with 


no 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries, 


me,  had  distinguished  Pope  and  Dryden,  thus  : 
'  Pope  drives  a  handsome  chariot,  with  a  couple 
of  neat,  trim  nags;  Dryden,  a  coach  and  six  stately 
horses.'  Johnson :  '  Why,  sir,  the  truth  is,  they 
both  drive  coaches  and  six,  but  Dryden's  horses 
are  either  galloping  or  stumbling ;  Pope's  go  at 
a  steady,  even  trot'  He  said  of  Goldsmith's 
'Traveller,'  which  had  been  pubHshed  in  my 
absence,  *  There's  not  been  so  fine  a  poem  since 
Pope's  time.'  Dr.  Johnson  at  the  same  time 
favoured  me  by  marking  the  lines  which  he  fur- 
nished to  Goldsmith's  'Deserted  Village,'  which 
are  only  the  last  four : — 

'  That  trade's  proud  empire  hastes  to  swift  decay, 
As  ocean  sweeps  the  labour'd  mole  away  ; 
While  self-dependent  power  can  time  defy, 
As  rocks  resist  the  billows  and  the  sky.' 

At  night  I  supped  with  him  at  the  *  Mitre  *  tavern, 
that  we  might  renew  our  social  intimacy  at  the 
original  place  of  meeting.  But  tliere  was  now  con- 
siderable difference  in  his  way  of  living.  Having 
had  an  illness,  in  which  he  was  advised  to  leave  off 
wine,  he  had,  from  that  period,  continued  to  abstain 
from  it,  and  drank  only  water  or  lemonade." 

"  Mr.  Beauclerk  and  I,"  says  Boswell,  in  another 
place,  "  called  on  him  in  the  morning.  As  we 
walked  up  Johnson's  Court,  I  said,  '  I  have  a 
veneration  for  this  court,'  and  was  glad  to  find 
that  Beauclerk  had  the  same  reverential  enthu- 
siasm." The  Doctor's  removal  Boswell  thus  duly 
chronicles  : — "  Having  arrived,"  he  says,  "  in 
London  late  on  Friday,  the  15th  of  March,  1776, 
I  hastened  next  morning  to  wait  on  Dr.  Johnson, 
at  his  house,  but  found  he  was  removed  from 
Johnson's  Court,  No.  7,  to  Bolt  Court,  No.  8, 
still  keeping  to  his  favourite  Fleet  Street.  My 
reflection  at  the  time,  upon  this  change,  as  marked 
in  my  journal,  is  as  follows :  '  I  felt  a  foolish 
regret  that  he  had  left  a  court  which  bore  his 
name;  but  it  was  not  foolish  to  be  affected  with 
some  tenderness  of  regard  for  a  place  in  which 
I  had  seen  him  a  great  deal,  from  whence  I  had 
often  issued  a  better  and  a  happier  man  than  when 
I  went  in ;  and  which  had  often  appeared  to  my 
imagination,  while  I  trod  its  pavement  in  the 
solemn  darkness  of  the  night,  to  be  sacred  to 
wisdom  and  piety.' " 

Johnson  was  living  at  Johnson's  Court  when  he 
was  introduced  to  George  HL,  an  interview  in 
which  he  conducted  himself,  considering  he  was 
an  ingrained  Jacobite,  with  great  dignity,  self- 
respect,  and  good  sense. 

That  clever,  but  most  shameless  and  scurrilous, 
paper,  John  Bull,  was  started  in  Johnson's  Court, 


at  the  close  of  1820.  Its  specific  and  real  object 
was  to  slander  unfortunate  Queen  Caroline  and  to 
torment,  stigmatise,  and  blacken  "the  Branden- 
burg House  party,"  as  her  honest  sympathisers 
were  called.  Theodore  Hook  was  chosen  editor, 
because  he  knew  society,  was  quick,  witty,  satirical, 
and  thoroughly  unscrupulous.  For  his  "  splendid 
abuse" — as  his  biographer,  the  unreverend  Mr. 
Barham,  calls  it — he  received  the  full  pay  of  a 
greedy  hireling.  Tom  Moore  and  the  Whigs 
now  met  with  a  terrible  adversary.  Hook  did  not 
hew  or  stab,  like  Churchill  and  the  old  rough 
lampooners  of  earlier  days,  but  he  filled  crackers 
with  wild  fire,  or  laughingly  stuck  the  enemies 
of  George  IV.  over  with  pins.  Hook  had  only 
a  year  before  returned  from  the  Treasuryship 
of  the  Mauritius,  charged  with  a  defalcation  of 
;^i 5,000 — the  result  of  the  grossest  and  most 
culpable  neglect.  Hungry  for  money,  as  he 
had  ever  been,  he  was  eager  to  show  his  zeal 
for  the  master  who  had  hired  his  pen.  Hook 
and  Daniel  Terry,  the  comedian,  joined  to  start 
the  new  satirical  paper;  but  Miller,  a  publisher  in 
the  Burlington  Arcade,  was  naturally  afraid  of 
libel,  and  refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with  the 
new  venture.  With  Miller,  as  Hook  said  in  his 
clever,  punning  way,  all  argument  in  favour  of  it 
proved  Newgate-ory.  Hook  at  first  wanted  to 
start  a  magazine  upon  the  model  of  Blackwood^ 
but  the  final  decision  was  for  a  weekly  newspaper, 
to  be  called  y<7//;/  Bull,  a  title  already  discussed  for 
a  previous  scheme  by  Hook  and  EUiston.  The 
first  number  appeared  on  Saturday,  December  16, 
182*0,  in  the  publishing  office,  No.  11,  Johnson's 
Court.  The  modest  projectors  only  printed  seven 
hundred  and  fifty  copies  of  the  first  number,  but  the 
sale  proved  considerable.  By  the  sixth  week  the 
sale  had  reached  ten  thousand  weekly.  The  first 
five  numbers  were  reprinted,  and  the  first  two 
actually  stereotyped. 

Hook's  favourite  axiom — worthy  of  such  a 
satirist — was  "that  there  was  always  a  concealed 
wound  in  every  family,  and  the  point  was  to  strike 
exactly  at  the  source  of  pain."  Hook's  clerical 
elder  brother,  Dr.  James  Hook,  the  author  of 
"  Pen  Owen "  and  other  novels,  and  afterwards 
Dean  of  Worcester,  assisted  him ;  but  Terry  was 
too  busy  in  what  Sir  Walter  Scott,  his  great  friend 
and  sleeping  partner,  used  to  call  '*  Terry{'jm%  the 
novelists  by  not  very  brilliant  adaptations  of  their 
works."  Dr.  Maginn,  summoned  from  Cork  to 
edit  a  newspaper  for  Hook  (who  had  bought  up 
two  dying  newspapers  for  the  small  expenditure  of 
three  hundred  guineas),  wrote  only  one  article  for 
the  BiclL     Mr.  Haynes  Bayley  contributed  some  of 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


HOOK'S  IMPUDENCE. 


Ill 


his  graceful  verses,  and  Ingoldsby  (Barham)  some 
of  his  rather  ribald  fun.  The  anonymous  editor  of 
John  Bull  became  for  a  time  as  much  talked  about 
as  Jiinius  in  earlier  times.  By  many  witty 
James  Smith  was  suspected,  but  his  fun  had  not 
malignity  enough  for  the  Tory  purposes  of  those 
bitter  days.  Latterly  Hook  let  Alderman  Wood 
alone,  and  set  all  his  staff  on  Hume,  the  great 
economist,  and  the  Hon.  Henry  Grey  Bennett. 

Several  prosecutions  followed,  says  Mr.  Barham, 
that  for  libel  on  the  Queen  among  the  rest ;  but  the 
grand  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  Whigs  to  crush  the 
paper  was  not  made  till  the  6th  of  May,  182 1,  A 
short  and  insignificant  paragraph,  containing  some 
observations  upon  the  Hon.  Henry  Grey  Bennett, 
a  brother  of  Lord  Tankerville's,  was  selected  for 
attack,  as  involving  a  breach  of  privilege ;  in  con- 
sequence of  which  the  printer,  Mr.  H.  F.  Cooper, 
the  editor,  and  Mr.  Shackell  were  ordered  to 
attend  at  the  bar  of  the  House  of  Commons.  A 
long  debate  ensued,  during  which  Ministers  made 
as  fair  a  stand  as  the  nature  of  the  case  would  admit 
in  behalf  of  their  guerrilla  allies,  but  which  termi- 
nated at  length  in  the  committal  of  Cooper  to 
Newgate,  where  he  was  detained  from  the  nth  of 
May  till  the  nth  of  July,  when  Parliament  was 
prorogued. 

Meanwhile  the  most  strenuous  exertions  were 
made  to  detect  the  real  delinquents — for,  of  course, 
honourable  gentlemen  were  not  to  be  imposed 
upon  by  the  unfortunate  "  men  of  straw "  who 
had  fallen  into  their  clutches,  and  who,  by  the 
way,  suffered  for  an  offence  of  which  their  judges 
and  accusers  openly  proclaimed  them  to  be  not 
only  innocent,  but  incapable.  The  terror  of  im- 
prisonment and  the  various  arts  of  cross-examina- 
tion proving  insufficient  to  elicit  the  truth,  recourse 
was  had  to  a  simpler  and  more  conciliatory  mode 
of  treatment — bribery.  The  storm  had  failed  to 
force  off  the  editorial  cloak — the  golden  beams 
were  brought  to  bear  upon  it.  We  have  it  for 
certain  that  an  offer  was  made  to  a  member  of 
the  establishment  to  stay  all  impending  proceed- 
ings, and,  further,  to  pay  down  a  sum  of  ;!^5oo 
on  the  names  of  the  actual  writers  being  given 
up.  It  was  rejected  with  disdain,  v/hile  such 
were  the  precautions  taken  that  it  was  impossible 
to  fix  Hook,  though  suspicion  began  to  be 
awakened,  with  any  share  in  the  concern.  In 
order,  also,  to  cross  the  scent  already  hit  off, 
and  announced  by  sundry  deep-mouthed  pursuers, 
'ihe  following  "  Reply " — framed  upon  the  prin- 
ciple, we  presume,  that  in  literature,  as  in  love, 
everything  is  fair — was  thrown  out  in  an  early 
number ; — 


"MR.    THEODORE   HOOK. 

"  The  conceit  of  some  people  is  amazing,  and  it 
has  not  been  unfrequently  remarked  that  conceit 
is  in  abundance  where  talent  is  most  scarce.  Our 
readers  will  see  that  we  have  received  a  letter  from 
Mr,  Hook,  disowning  and  disavowing  all  connec- 
tion with  this  paper.  Partly  out  of  good  nature, 
and  partly  from  an  anxiety  to  show  the  gentleman 
how  little  desirous  we  are  to  be  associated  with 
him,  we  have  made  a  declaration  which  will 
doubtless  be  quite  satisfactory  to  his  morbid 
sensibility  and  affected  squeamishness.  We  are 
free  to  confess  that  two  things  surprise  us  in  this 
business ;  the  first,  that  anything  which  we  have 
thought  worth  giving  to  the  public  should  have 
been  mistaken  for  Mr.  Hook's ;  and,  secondly 
that  such  a  person  as  Mr.  Hook  should  think 
himself  disgraced  by  a  connection  with  John 
Bull." 

For  sheer  impudence  this,  perhaps,  may  be 
admitted  to  "  defy  competition  " ;  but  in  point  of 
tact  and  delicacy  of  finish  it  falls  infinitely  short  of 
a  subsequent  notice,  a  perfect  gem  of  its  class, 
added  by  way  of  clenching  the  denial : — 

"  We  have  received  Mr.  Theodore  Hook's 
second  letter.  We  are  ready  to  confess  that  we 
may  have  appeared  to  treat  him  too  uncere- 
moniously, but  we  will  put  it  to  his  own  feelings 
whether  the  terms  of  his  denial  were  not,  in  some 
degree,  calculated  to  produce  a  little  asperity  on 
our  part.  We  shall  never  be  ashamed,  however,  to 
do  justice,  and  we  readily  declare  that  we  meant 
no  kind  of  imputation  on  Mr.  Hook's  personal 
character." 

The  ruse  answered  for  awhile,  and  the  paper 
went  on  with  unabated  audacity. 

The  death  of  the  Queen,  in  the  summer  of  1821, 
produced  a  decided  alteration  in  the  tone  and 
temper  of  the  paper.  In  point  of  fact  its  occupa- 
tion was  now  gone.  The  main,  if  not  the  sole, 
object  of  its  establishment  had  been  brought  about 
by  other  and  unforeseen  events.  The  combination 
it  had  laboured  so  energetically  to  thwart  was  now 
dissolved  by  a  higher  and  resistless  agency.  Still, 
it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  a  machine  which 
brought  in  a  prolt  of  something  above  ;^4,ooo 
per  annum,  half  of  which  fell  to  the  share  of  Hook, 
was  to  be  lightly  thrown  up,  simply  because  its 
original  purpose  was  attained.  The  dissolution  of 
the  "  League  "  did  not  exist  then  as  a  precedent. 
The  Queen  was  no  longer  to  be  feared  ;  but  there 
were  Whigs  and  Radicals  enough  to  be  held  in 
check,  and,  above  all,  there  was  a  handsome 
income  to  be  realised. 

"Latterly  Hook's  desultory  nature  made  hinj 


JX2 


OLD  AND  NEW   LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


wander  from  the  Bu//,  which  might  have  furnished 
the  thoughtless  and  heartless  man  of  pleasure  with 
^an  income  for  life.  The  paper  naturally  lost  sap  and 
vigour,   at  once  declined  in  sale,  and  sank  into 


a  mere  respectable  club-house  and  party  organ." 
"  Mr.  Hook,"  says  Barham,  "  received  to  the  day 
of  his  death  a  fixed  salary,  but  the  proprietorship 
had  long  since  passed  into  other  handsj' 


CHAPTER      X. 


FLEET  STREET  TRIBUTARIES. 

Pr.  Johnson  in  Bolt  Court— His  motley  Household— His  Life  there — Still  existing— The  gallant  "  Lumber  Troop "— Reform  Bill  Riots— Sir 
Claudius  Hunter — Cobbett  in  Bolt  Court — The  Bird  Boy — The  Private  Soldier — In  the  House— Dr.  Johnson  in  Gough  Square — Busy  at  the 
Dictionary— Goldsmith  in  Wine  Office  Court— Selling  "The  Vicar  of  Wakefield  "—Goldsmith's  Troubles— Wine  Office  Court— The  Old 
"  Cheshire  Cheese." 


Of  all  the  nooks  of  London  associated  with  the 
memory  of  that  good  giant  of  literature,  Dr.  John- 
son, not  one  is  more  sacred  to  those  who  love 
that  great  and  wise  man  than  Bolt  Court.  To  this 
monastic  court  Johnson  came  in  1776,  and  re- 
mained till  that  December  day  in  1784,  when  a 
procession  of  all  the  learned  and  worthy  men  who 
honoured  him  followed  his  body  to  its  grave  in  the 
Abbey,  near  the  feet  of  Shakespeare  and  by  the 
side  of  Garrick.  The  great  scholar,  whose  ways 
and  sayings,  whose  rough  hide  and  tender  heart, 
are  so  familiar  to  us — thanks  to  that  faithful  parasite 
who  secured  an  immortality  by  getting  up  behind 
his  triumphal  chariot— came  to  Bolt  Court  from 
Johnson's  Court,  whither  he  had  flitted  from 
Inner  Temple  Lane,  where  he  was  living  when  the 
young  Scotch  barrister  who  was  afterwards  his 
biographer  first  knew  him.  His  strange  household 
of  fretful  and  disappointed  almspeople  seems  as  well 
known  as  our  own.  At  the  head  of  these  pen- 
sioners was  the  daughter  of  a  Welsh  doctor,  (a  blind 
old  lady  named  Williams),  who  had  written  some 
trivial  poems ;  Mrs.  Desmoulins,  an  old  Stafford- 
shire lady,  her  daughter,  and  a  Miss  Carmichael. 
The  relationships  of  these  fretful  and  quarrelsome 
old  maids  Dr.  Johnson  has  himself  sketched,  in  a 
letter  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thrale  • — •'  Williams 
hates  everybody ;  Levett  hates  Desmoulins,  and 
does  not  love  Williams;  Desmoulins  hates  them 
both  ;  Poll  (Miss  Carmichael)  loves  none  of  them." 
This  Levett  was  a  poor  eccentric  apothecary,  whom 
Johnson  supported,  and  who  seems  to  have  been 
a  charitable  man. 

The  annoyance  of  such  a  menagerie  of  angular 
oddities  must  have  driven  Johnson  more  than  ever 
to  his  clubs,  where  he  could  wrestle  with  the  best 
intellects  of  the  day,  and  generally  retire  vic- 
torious. He  had  done  nearly  all  his  best  work 
by  this  time,  and  was  sinking  into  the  sere  and 


yellow  leaf,  not,  like  Macbeth,  with  the  loss  of 
honour,  but  with  love,  obedience,  troops  of  friends, 
and  golden  opinions  from  all  sorts  of  people.  His 
Titanic  labour,  the  Dictionary,  he  had  achieved 
chiefly  in  Gough  Square;  his  "  Rasselas"— that 
grave  and  wise  Oriental  story — he  had  written  in  a 
few  days,  in  Staple's  Inn,  to  defray  the  expenses  of 
his  mother's  funeral.  In  Bolt  Court  he,  however, 
produced  his  "  Lives  of  the  Poets,"  a  noble  com- 
pendium of  criticism,  defaced  only  by  the  bitter 
Tory  depreciation  of  Milton,  and  injured  by  the 
insertion  of  many  worthless  and  the  omission  of 
several   good  poets. 

It  is  pleasant  to  think  of  some  of  the  events 
that  happened  while  Johnson  lived  in  Bolt  Court. 
Here  he  exerted  himself  with  all  the  ardour  of  his 
nature  to  soothe  the  last  moments  of  that  wretched 
man, Dr.  Dodd,  who  was  hanged  for  forgery.  From 
Bolt  Court  he  made  those  frequent  excursions  to 
the  Thrales,  at  Streatham,  where  the  rich  brewer 
and  his  brilliant  wife  gloried  in  the  great  London 
lion  they  had  captured.  To  Bolt  Court  came  John- 
son's friends  Reynolds  and  Gibbon,  and  Garrick, 
and  Percy,  and  Langton ;  but  poor  Goldsmith  had 
died  before  Johnson  left  Johnson's  Court.  To 
Bolt  •  Court  he  stalked  home  the  night  of  his 
memorable  quarrel  with  Dr.  Percy,  no  doubt  re- 
gretting the  violence  and  boisterous  rudeness 
with  which  he  had  attacked  an  amiable  and  gifted 
man.  From  Bolt  Court  he  walked  to  service  at 
St.  Clement's  Church  on  the  day  he  rejoiced  in 
comparing  the  animation  of  Fleet  Street  with  the 
desolation  of  the  Hebrides.  It  was  from  Bolt 
Court  Boswell  drove  Johnson  to  dine  w  th  General 
Paoli,  a  drive  memorable  for  the  fact  that  on 
that  occasion  Johnson  uttered  his  first  and  only 
recorded  pun. 

Johnson  was  at  Bolt  Court  when  the  Gordon  Riots 
broke  out,  and  he  describes  them  to  Mrs.  Thrale. 


Fket  Street  Tributaries.] 


DR.   JOHNSON'S   DEATH. 


^i 


Boswell  gives  a  pleasant  sketch  of  a  party  at  Bolt 
Court,  when  Mrs.  Hall  (a  sister  of  Wesley)  was 
there,  and  Mr.  Allen,  a  printer;  Johnson  pro- 
duced his  silver  salvers,  and  it  was  "  a  great 
day."  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  the  conversa- 
tion fell  on  apparitions,  and  Johnson,  always 
superstitious  to  the  last  degree,  told  the  story  of 
hearing  his  mother's  voice  call  him  one  day  at 
Oxford  (probably  at  a  time  when  his  brain  was  over- 
worked). On  this  great  occasion  also,  Johnson, 
talked  at  by  Mrs.  Hall  and  Mrs.  Williams  at  the 
same  moment,  gaily  quoted  the  line  from  the 
Beggars^  Opera^ — 

"  But  two  at  a  time  there's  no  mortal  can  bear,* 

and  Boswell  playfully  compared  the  great  man 
to  Captain  Macheath.  Imagine  Mrs.  Williams,  old 
and  peevish  ;  Mrs.  Hall,  lean,  lank,  and  preachy ; 
Johnson,  rolling  in  his  chair  like  Polyphemus  at  a 
debate;  Boswell,  stooping  forward  on  the  per- 
petual listen ;  Mr.  Levett,  sour  and  silent ;  Frank, 
the  black  servant,  proud  of  the  silver  salvers — and 
you  have  the  group  as  in  a  picture. 

In  Bolt  Court  we  find  Johnson  now  returning 
from  pleasant  dinners  with  Wilkes  and  Garrick, 
Malone  and  Dr.  Burney;  now  sitting  alone  over 
his  Greek  Testament,  or  praying  with  his  black 
servant,  Frank.  We  like  to  picture  him  on  that 
Good  Fridaymorning  (1783),  when  he  and  Boswell, 
returning  from  service  at  St.  Clement's,  rested  on 
the  stone  seat  at  the  garden-door  in  Bolt  Court, 
talkmg  about  gardens  and  country  hospitality. 

Then,  finally,  we  come  to  almost  the  last  scene 
of  all,  when  the  sick  man  addressed  to  his  kind 
physician,  Brocklesby,  that  pathetic  passage  of 
Shakespeare's, — 

"  Canst  thou  not  minister  to  a  mind  diseased  ; 
Pluck  from  the  memory  a  rooted  sorrow  ; 
Raze  out  the  written  troubles  of  the  brain  ; 
And  with  some  sweet  oblivious  antidote 
Cleanse  the  stuffed  bosom  of  that  perilous  stuff 
Which  weighs  upon  the  heart  ?" 

Round  Johnson's  dying  bed  gathered  many  wise 
and  good  men.  To  Burke  he  said,  "I  must  be 
in  a  wretched  state  indeed,  when  your  company 
would  not  be  a  delight  to  me."  To  another  friend 
he  remarked  solemnly,  but  in  his  old  grand  manner, 
"  Sir,  you  cannot  conceive  with  what  acceleration 
I  advance  towards  death."  Nor  did  his  old  vehe- 
mence and  humour  by  any  means  forsake  him,  for 
he  described  a  man  who  sat  up  to  watch  him 
"  as  an  idiot,  sir ;  awkward  as  a  turnspit  when  first 
put  into  the  wheel,  and  sleepy  as  a  dormouse." 
His  remaining  hours  were  spent  in  fervent  prayer. 
The  last  words  he  uttered  were  those   of  bene- ! 


diction  upon  the  daughter  of  a  friend  who  came  to 
ask  his  blessing. 

Some  years  before  Dr.  Johnson's  death,  when 
the  poet  Rogers  was  a  young  clerk  of  literary  pro- 
clivities at  his  father's  bank,  he  one  day  stole  sur- 
reptitiously to  Bolt  Court,  to  daringly  show  some  of 
his  fledgeling  poems  to  the  great  Polyphemus  of 
literature.  He  and  young  Maltby,  an  ancestor  of 
the  late  Bishop  of  Durham,  crept  blushingly  through 
the  quiet  court,  and  on  arriving  at  the  sacred  door 
on  the  west  side,  ascended  the  steps  and  knocked 
at  the  door;  but  the  awful  echo  of  that  knocker 
struck  terror  to  the  young  debutants^  hearts,  and 
before  Frank  Barber,  the  Doctor's  old  negro  foot- 
man, could  appear,  the  two  lads,  like  street-boys 
who  had  perpetrated  a  mischievous  runaway  knock, 
took  to  their  heels  and  darted  back  into  noisy 
Fleet  Street.  Mr,  Jesse,  who  has  collected  so 
many  excellent  anecdotes,  some  even  original,  in 
his  three  large  volumes  on  "  London's  Celebrated 
Characters  and  Places,"  says  that  the  elder  Mr. 
Disraeli,  singularly  enough,  used  in  society  to  re- 
late an  almost  similar  adventure  as  a  youth.  Eager 
for  literary  glory,  but  urged  towards  the  counter 
by  his  sober-minded  relations,  he  enclosed  some 
of  his  best  verses  to  the  celebrated  Dr.  Johnson, 
and  modestly  solicited  from  the  terrible  critic  an 
opinion  of  their  value.  Having  waited  some  time 
in  vain  for  a  reply,  the  ambitious  Jewish  youth 
at  last  (December  13,  1784)  resolved  to  face  the 
lion  in  his  den,  and  rapping  tremblingly  (as  his  pre- 
decessor, Rogers),  heard  with  dismay  the  knocker 
echo  on  the  metal.  We  may  imagine  the  feelings 
of  the  young  votary  at  the  shrine  of  learning, 
when  the  servant  (probably  Frank  Barber),  who 
slowly  opened  the  door,  informed  him  that  Dr. 
Johnson  had  breathed  his  last  only  a  few  short 
hours  before. 

Mr.  Timbs  reminds  us  of  another  story  of  Dr. 
Johnson,  which  will  not  be"  out  of  place  here.  It 
is  an  excellent  illustration  of  the  keen  sagacity  and 
forethought  of  that  great  man's  mind.  One  evening 
Dr.  Johnson,  looking  from  his  dim  Bolt  Court 
window,  saw  the  slovenly  lamp -lighter  of  those 
days  ascending  a  ladder  (just  as  Hogarth  has 
drawn  him  in  the  "Rake's  Progress"),  and  fill  the 
little  receptacle  in  the  globular  lamp  with  detestable 
whale-oil.  Just  as  he  got  down  the  ladder  the  dull 
light  wavered  out.  Skipping  up  the  ladder  again, 
the  son  of  Prometheus  lifted  the  cover,  thrust  the 
torch  he  carried  into  the  heated  vapour  rising 
from  the  wick,  and  instantly  the  ready  flame 
sprang  restored  to  life.  "  Ah,"  said  the  old  seer, 
"  one  of  these  days  the  streets  of  London  will  be 
lighted  by  smoke." 


114 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


Johnson's  house  (No.  8),  according  to  Mr.  Noble, 
was  not  destroyed  by  fire  in  1819,  as  Mr.  Timbs 
and  other  writers  assert  The  house  destroyed  was 
Bensley  the  printer's  (next  door  to  No.  8),  the 
successor  of  Johnson's  friend,  Allen,  who  in  1772 
published   Manning's   Saxon,    Gothic,   and   Latin 


itur  ad  astra.  The  back  room,  first  floor,  in  which 
the  great  man  died,  had  been  pulled  down  by  Mr. 
Bensley,  to  make  way  for  a  staircase.  Bensley 
was  one  of  the  first  introducers  of  the  German 
invention  of  steam-printing. 

At  "  Dr.  Johnson's  "  tavern,  established  forty  years 


DR.  Johnson's  house  in  bolt  court  [see  page  112). 


Dictionary,  and  died  in  1780.  In  Bensley's  destruc- 
tive fire  all  the  plates  and  stock  of  Dallaway's 
"  History  of  Sussex"  were  consumed.  Johnson's 
house,  says  Mr.  Noble,  was  in  1858  purchased  by 
the  Stationers'  Company,  and  fitted  up  as  a  cheap 
school  (six  shillings  a  quarter).  In  1861  Mr.  Foss, 
Master  of  the  Company,  initiated  a  fund,  and  since 
then  a  university  scholarship  has  been  founded — sic 


ago  (now  the  Albert  Club),  the  well-kno\vn  society 
of  the  "  Lumber  Troop  "  once  drained  their  porter 
and  held  their  solemn  smokings.  This  gallant 
force  of  supposititious  fighting  men  "  came  out "  with 
great  force  during  the  Reform  Riots  of  1830.  These 
useless  disturbances  originated  in  a  fussy,  foolish 
warning  letter,  written  by  John  Key,  the  Lord  Mayor 
elect  (he  was  generally  known  in  the  City  as  Don 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


THE   "LUMBER  TROOP." 


"5 


ii6 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


Key  after  this),  to  the  Duke  of  WeUington,  then  as 
terribly  unpopular  with  the  English  Reformers  as 
he  had  been  with  the  French  after  the  battle  of 
Waterloo,  urging  him  (the  duke)  if  he  came  with 
King  William  and  Queen  Adelaide  to  dine  with 
the  new  Lord  Mayor,  (his  worshipful  self),  to 
come  "strongly  and  sufficiently  guarded."  This 
imprudent  step  greatly  offended  the  people,  who 
were  also  just  then  much  vexed  with  the  severities 
of  Peel's  obnoxious  new  police.  The  result  was 
that  the  new  king  and  queen  (for  the  not  over- 
beloved  George  IV.  had  only  died  in  June  of 
that  year)  thought  it  better  to  decline  coming 
to  the  City  festivities  altogether.  Great,  then, 
was  even  the  Tory  indignation,  and  the  fattest 
alderman  trotted  about,  eager  to  discuss  the 
grievance,  the  waste  of  half-cooked  turtle,  and 
the  general  folly  and  enormity  of  the  Lord  Mayor 
elect's  conduct  Sir  Claudius  Hunter,  who  had 
shared  in  the  Lord  Mayor's  fears,  generously 
marched  to  his  aid.  In  a  published  statement  that 
he  made,  he  enumerated  the  force  available  for 
the  defence  of  the  (in  his  mind)  endangered 
City  in  the  following  way : — 

Ward  Constables         400 

Fellowship,  Ticket,  and  Tackle  Porters       ...  250 

Firemen 150 

Corn  Porters      ...         ...         ... 100 

Extra  men  hired           ... 130 

City  Police  or  own  men          «         ...  54 

Tradesmen  with  emblems  in  the  procession . . .  300 

Some  gentlemen  called  the  Lumber  Troopers  150 

The  Artillery  Company           , 150 

The  East  India  Volunteers     ...        , 600 


Total  of  all  comers 


...  2,284 


In  the  same  statement  Sir  Claudius  says : — 
"The  Lumber  Troop  are  a  respectable  smoking 
club,  well  known  to  every  candidate  for  a  seat  in 
Parliament  for  London,  and  most  famed  for  the 
quantity  of  tobacco  they  consume  and  the  porter 
they  drink,  which,  I  believe  (from  my  own  observa- 
tion,  made  nineteen  years  ago,  when  I  was  a  can- 
didate for  that  office),  is  the  only  liquor  allowed. 
They  were  to  have  had  no  pay,  and  I  am  sure  they 
would  have  done  their  best." 

Along  the  line  of  procession,  to  oppose  this 
civic  force,  the  right  worshipful  but  foolish  man 
reckoned  there  would  be  some  150,000  persons. 
With  all  these  aldermanic  fears,  and  all  these 
irritating  precautions,  a  riot  naturally  took  place. 
On  Monday,  November  8th,  that  glib,  unsatisfactory 
man.  Orator  Hunt,  the  great  demagogue  of  the 
day,  addressed  a  Reform  meeting  at  the  Rotunda, 
in  Blackfriars  Road.  At  half-past  eleven,  when 
the  Radical  gentleman,  famous  for  his  white  hat 


(the  lode-star  of  faction),  retired,  a  man  suddenly 
waved  a  tricolour  flag  (it  was  the  year,  remember, 
of  the  Revolution  in  Paris),  with  the  word  "Re- 
form" painted  upon  it,  and  a  preconcerted  cry 
was  raised  by  the  more  violent  of,  *'  Now  for 
the  West  End ! "  About  one  thousand  men  then 
rushed  over  Blackfriars  bridge,  shouting,  "Reform  !'* 
"Down  with  the  police!"  "No  Peel!"  "No  Wel- 
lington !"  Hurrying  along  the  Strand,  the  mob 
first  proceeded  to  Earl  Bathurst's,  in  Downing 
Street  A  foolish  gentleman  of  the  house,  hear- 
ing the  cries,  came  out  on  the  balcony,  anned 
with  a  brace  of  pistols,  and  declared  he  would 
fire  on  the  first  man  who  attempted  to  enter  the 
place.  Another  gentleman  at  this  moment  came 
out,  and  very  sensibly  took  the  pistols  from  his 
friend,  on  which  the  mob  retired.  The  rioters 
were  then  making  for  the  House  of  Commons, 
but  were  stopped  by  a  strong  line  of  police,  just 

arrived  in  time  from  Scotland  Yard.    One  himdred 

< 

and  forty  more  men  soon  joined  the  constables, 
and  a  general  fight  ensued,  in  which  many  heads 
were  quickly  broken,  and  the  Reform  flag  was  cap- 
tured. Thr«e  of  the  rioters  were  arrested,  and 
taken  to  the  watch-house  in  the  Almonry  in  West- 
minster. A  troop  of  Royal  Horse  Guards  (blue) 
remained  during  the  night  ready  in  the  court  of  the 
Horse  Guards,  and  bands  of  policemen  paraded 
the  streets. 

On  Tuesday  the  riots  continued.  About  half- 
past  five  p.m.,  300  or  400  persons,  chiefly  boys, 
came  along  the  Strand,  shouting,  "No  Peel!'' 
"  Down  with  the  raw  lobsters  !"  (the  new  police)  j 
"This  way,  my  lads;  we'll  give  it  them!"  At 
the  back  of  the  menageries  at  Charing  Cross  the 
police  rushed  upon  them,  and  after  a  skirmish  put 
them  to  flight.  At  seven  o'clock  the  vast  crowd 
by  Temple  Bar  compelled  every  coachman  and 
passenger  in  a  coach,  as  a  passport,  to  pull  off 
his  hat  and  shout  "  Huzza  !"  Stones  were  thrown, 
and  attempts  were  made  to  close  the  gates  of  the 
Bar.  The  City  marshals,  however,  compelled  them 
to  be  reopened,  and  opposed  the  passage  of  the 
mob  to  the  Strand,  but  the  pass  was  soon  forced. 
The  rioters  in  Pickett  Place  pelted  the  police  with 
stones  and  pieces  of  wood,  broken  from  the 
scaffolding  of  the  Law  Institute,  then  building  in 
Chancery  Lane.  Another  mob  of  about  500 
persons  ran  up  Piccadilly  to  Apsley  House 
and  hissed  and  hooted  the  stubborn,  unprogressive 
old  Duke,  Mr.  Peel,  and  the  police ;  the  con- 
stables, however,  soon  dispersed  them.  The  same 
evening  dangerous  mobs  collected  in  Bethnal 
Green,  Spitalfields,  and  Whitechapel,  one  party 
of  them  displaying  tricoloured  flags.     They  broke 


Fleet  Street  Tnbutaries."] 


TOM  PAINE'S  lONES. 


117 


a  lamp  and  a  window  or  two,  but  did  little  else. 
Alas  f®r  poor  Sir  Claudius  and  his  profound  com- 
putations !  His  2,284  fighting  loyal  men  dwindled 
down  to  600,  including  even  those  strange  hybrids, 
the  firemen-watermen ;  and  as  for  the  gallant  Lumber 
Troop,  they  were  nowhere  visible  to  the  naked  eye. 

To  Bolt  Court  that  scourge  of  King  George  III., 
William  Cobbett,  came  from  Fleet  Street  to  sell  his 
Indian  com,  for  which  no  one  cared,  and  to  print 
and  publish  his  twopenny  Political  Register^  for 
which  the  London  Radicals  of  that  day  hungered. 
Nearly  opposite  the  office  of  "  this  good  hater," 
says  Mr.  Timbs,  Wright  (late  Kearsley)  kept 
shop,  and  published  a  searching  criticism  on 
Cobbett's  excellent  English  Grammar  as  soon 
as  it  appeared.  We  only  wonder  that  Cobbett 
did  not  reply  to  him  as  Johnson  did  to  a  friend 
after  he  knocked  Osborne  (the  grubbing  bookseller 
of  Gray's  Inn  Gate)  down  with  a  blow — "  Sir,  he 
was  impertinent,  and  I  beat  him." 

A  short  biographical  sketch  of  Cobbett  will  not 
be  inappropriate  here.  This  sturdy  Englishman, 
born  in  the  year  1762,  was  the  son  of  an  honest 
and  industrious  yeoman,  who  kept  an  inn  called 
the  "  Jolly  Farmer,"  at  Famham,  in  Surrey.  "  My 
first  occupation/'  says  Cobbett,  "was  driving  the 
small  birds  from  the  turnip  seed  and  the  rooks 
from  the  peas.  When  I  first  trudged  a-field  with 
my  wooden  bottle  and  my  satchel  over  my 
shoulder,  I  was  hardly  able  to  climb  the  gates 
and  stiles."  In  1783  the  restless  lad  (a  plant 
grown  too  high  for  the  pot)  ran  away  to  London, 
and  turned  lawyer's  clerk.  At  the  end  of  nine 
months  he  enlisted,  and  sailed  for  Nova  Scotia. 
Before  long  he  became  sergeant-major,  over  the 
heads  of  thirty  other  non-commissioned  officers. 
Frugal  and  diligent,  the  young  soldier  soon  educated 
himself.  Discharged  at  his  own  request  in  1791, 
he  married  a  respectable  girl,  to  whom  he  had 
before  entrusted  p^i  5 o  hard-earned  savings.  Obtain- 
ing a  trial  against  four  officers  of  his  late  regiment 
for  embezzlement  of  stores,  for  some  strange  reason 
Cobbett  fled  to  France  on  the  eve  of  the  trial, 
but  finding  the  king  of  that  country  dethroned,  he 
started  at  once  for  America.  At  Philadelphia 
he  boldly  began  as  a  high  Tory  bookseller,  and 
denounced  Democracy  in  his  virulent  "  Porcupine 
Papers."  Finally,  over\vhelmed  with  actions  for 
libel,  Cobbett  in  1800  returned  to  England. 
Failing  with  a  daily  paper  and  a  bookseller's  shop, 
Cobbett  then  started  his  Weekly  Register^  which 
for  thirty  years  continued  to  express  the  changes 
of  his  honest  but  impulsive  and  vindictive  mind. 
Gradually — it  is  said,  owing  to  some  slight  shown 
him  by  Pitt  (more  probably  from  real  conviction) — 


Cobbett  grew  Radical  and  progressive,  and  in  1809 
was  fined  ^500  for  libels  on  the  Irish  Government. 
In  181 7  he  was  fined  ;,£■  1,000  and  imprisoned  two 
years  for  violent  remarks  about  some  Ely  militiamen 
who  had  been  flogged  under  a  guard  of  fixed 
bayonets.  This  punishment  he  never  forgave.  He 
followed  up  his  Register  by  his  Twopenny  Trashy 
of  which  he  eventually  sold  100,000  a  number. 
The  Six  Acts  being  passed — as  he  boasted,  to  gag 
him — he  fled,  in  181 7,  again  to  America.  The 
persecuted  man  returned  to  England  in  18 19, 
bringing  with  him,  much  to  the  amusement  of 
the  Tory  lampooners,  the  bones  of  that  foul  man, 
Tom  Paine,  the  infidel,  whom  (in  1796)  this  change- 
ful politician  had  branded  as  "base,  malignant, 
treacherous,  unnatural,  and  blasphemous."  During 
the  Queen  Caroline  trial  Cobbett  worked  heart  and 
soul  for  that  questionable  martyr.  He  went  out 
to  Shooter's  Hill  to  welcome  her  to  London,  and 
boasted  of  having  waved  a  laurel  bough  above 
her  head. 

In  1825  he  wrote  a  scurrilous  "Hif;tory  of  the 
Reformation  "  (by  many  still  attributed  to  a  priest), 
in  which  he  declared   Luther,  Calvin,   and   Beza 
to  be  the  greatest  ruffians  that  ever  disgraced  the 
world.     In  his  old  age,  too  late  to  be  either  bril- 
liant   or    useful,    Cobbett    got    into    Parliament, 
being  returned  in  1832  (thanks  to  the  Reform  Bill) 
member    for   Oldham.       He  died    at  his   house 
near  Famham,  in  1835.     Cobbett  was  an  egotist, 
it  must  be  allowed,  and  a  violent-tempered,  vin- 
dictive man ;  but  his  honesty,  his  love  of  truth  and 
liberty,  few  who  are  not  blinded  by  party  opinion 
can  doubt.  His  writings  are  remarkable  for  vigorous 
and  racy  Saxon,  as  full  of  vituperation  as  Rabelais's, 
and  as  terse  and  simple  as  Swift's. 

Mr.  Grant,  in  his  pleasant  book,  "Randon^ 
Recollections  of  the  House  of  Commons,"  writte^ 
circa  1834,  gives  us  an  elaborate  full-length 
portrait  of  old  Cobbett.  He  was,  he  says,  not  less 
than  six  feet  high,  and  broad  and  athletic  ii^ 
proportion.  His  haif-  was  silver-white,  his  com^ 
plexion  ruddy  as  a  farmer's.  Till  his  small  eyes 
sparkled  with  laughter,  he  looked  a  mere  duU- 
pated  clodpole.  His  dress  was  a  light,  loose,  grey 
tail-coat,  a  white  waistcoat,  and  sandy  kerseymere 
breeches,  and  he  usually  walked  about  the  House 
with  both  his  hands  plunged  into  his  breeches 
pockets.  He  had  an  eccentric,  half-malicious  way 
of  sometimes  suddenly  shifting  his  seat,  and  on 
one  important  night,  big  with  the  fate  of  Peel's 
Administration,  deliberately  anchored  down  in  the 
very  centre  of  the  disgusted  Tories  and  at  the  very 
back  of  Sir  Robert's  bench,  to  the  infinite  annoy- 
ance of  the  somewhat  supercilious  party. 


ii8 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries, 


We  next  penetrate  into  Gough  Square,  in  search 
of  the  great  lexicographer. 

As  far  as  can  be  ascertained  from  Boswell, 
Dr.  Johnson  resided  at  Gough  Square  from 
1748  to  1758,  an  eventful  period  of  his  Hfe,  and  one 
of  struggle,  pain,  and  difficulty.  In  this  gloomy 
side  square  near  Fleet  Street,  he  achieved  many 
results  and  abandoned  many  hopes.  Here  he 
nursed  his  hypochondria — the  nightmare  of  his  life 
■ — and  sought  the  only  true  relief  in  hard  work. 
Here  he  toiled  over  books,  drudging  for  Cave 
and  Dodsley.  Here  he  commenced  both  the 
Rambler  and  the  Idler,  and  formed  his  ac. 
quaintance  with  Bennet  Langton.  Here  his  wife 
died,  and  left  him  more  than  ever  a  prey  to  his 
natural  melancholy ;  and  here  he  toiled  on  his 
great  work,  the  Dictionary,  in  which  he  and  six 
amanuenses  effected  what  it  took  all  the  French 
Academicians  to  perform  for  their  language, 

A  short  epitome  of  what  this  great  man  accom- 
plished while  in  Gough  Square  will  clearly  recall 
to  our  readers  his  way  of  life  while  in  that  locality. 
In  1749,  Johnson  formed  a  quiet  club  in  Ivy 
I^ane,  wrote  that  fine  paraphrase  of  Juvenal, 
"The  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes,"  and  brought 
out,  with  dubious  success,  under  Garrick's  auspices, 
his  tragedy  of  Irene.  In  1750,  he  commenced 
the  Rambler.  In  1752,  the  year  his  wife  died, 
he  laboured  on  at  the  Dictionary.  In  1753, 
he  became  acquainted  with  Bennet  Langton. 
In  1754  he  wrote  the  life  of  his  early  patron, 
Cave,  who  died  that  year.  In  1755,  the  great 
Dictionary,  begun  in  1747,  was  at  last  published, 
and  Johnson  wrote  that  scathing  letter  to  the 
Earl  of  Chesterfield,  who,  too  late,  thrust  upon 
him  the  patronage  the  poor  scholar  had  once 
sought  in  vain.  In  1756,  the  still  struggling  man 
was  arrested  for  a  paltry  debt  of  ^5  i8j.,  from 
which  Richardson  the  worthy  relieved  him.  In 
1758,  when  he  began  the  Idler,  Johnson  is  de- 
scribed as  "  being  in  as  easy  and  pleasant  a  state 
of  existence  as  constitutional  unhappiness  ever 
permitted  him  to  enjoy." 

While  the  Dictionary  was  going  forward,  "  John- 
son," says  Boswell,  "  lived  part  of  the  time  in  Hol- 
bom,  part  in  Gough  Square  (Fleet  Street) ;  and 
he  had  an  upper  room  fitted  up  like  a  counting- 
house  for  the  purpose,  in  which  he  gave  to  the 
copyists  their  several  tasks.  The  words,  partly 
taken  from  other  dictionaries  and  partly  supplied 
by  himself,  having  been  first  written  down  with 
space  left  between  them,  he  delivered  in  writing 
their  etymologies,  definitions,  and  various  signifi- 
cations. The  authorities  were  copied  from  the 
books  themselves,  in  which  he  had  marked  the 


passages  with  a  black-lead  pencil,  the  traces  of 
which  could  be  easily  effaced.  I  have  seen  several 
of  them  in  which  that  trouble  had  not  been  taken, 
so  that  they  were  just  as  when  used  by  the  copy^ 
ists.  It  is  remarkable  that  he  was  so  attentive  to 
the  choice  of  the  passages  in  which  words  were 
authorised,  that  one  may  read  page  after  page  of 
his  Dictionary  with  improvement  and  pleasure; 
and  it  should  not  pass  unobserved,  that  he  has 
quoted  no  author  whose  writings  had  a  tendency  to 
hurt  sound  religion  and  morality." 

To  this  account  Bishop  Percy  adds  a  note  of 
great  value   for  its  lucid   exactitude.     "  Boswell's 
account  of  the  manner  in  which  Johnson  compiled 
his  Dictionary,"  he  says,  "  is  confused  and  erro- 
neous.    He  began  his  task  (as  he  himself  expreasly 
described   to  me)   by  devoting  his  first  care  to 
a  diligent  perusal  of  all  such  English  writers  as 
were  most  correct  in  their  language,   and  under 
every  sentence  which  he  meant  to  quote  he  drew 
a  line,  and  noted  in  the  margin  the  first  letter  of 
the  word  under  which  it  was  to  occur.     He  then 
delivered  these  books  to  his  clerks,  who  transcribed 
each   sentence   on  a  separate  slip  of  paper  and 
arranged  the  same  under  the  word  referred  to.     By 
these  means  he  collected  the  several  words,  and 
their  different  significations,  and  when  the  whole 
arrangement  was    alphabetically  formed,  he  gave 
the   definitions  of  their  meanings,  and  collected 
their  etymologies  from  Skinner,  and  other  writers 
on  the   subject."      To   these  accounts,   Hawkins 
adds  his  usual  carping,  pompous  testimony.     "  Dr. 
Johnson,"   he   says,    "who,  before   this  time,   to- 
gether with  his  wife,  had  lived  in  obscurity,  lodging 
at   different   houses   in   the  courts   and  alleys   in 
and  about  the  Strand  and  Fleet  Street,  had,  for 
the  purpose  of  carrying  on  this  arduous  work,  and 
being  near  the  printers  employed  in  it,   taken  a 
handsome  house  in  Gough  Square,  and  fitted  up 
a  room  in  it  with  books  and  other  accommodations 
for  amanuenses,  who,  to  the  number  of  five  or  six, 
he  kept    constantly    under  his   eye.      An    inter- 
leaved copy  of  "  Bailey's  Dictionary,"  in  folio,  he 
made  the   repository  of  the  several  articles,  and 
these  he  collected  by  incessantly  reading  the  best 
authors  in  our  language,   in  the  practice  whereof 
his  method  was  to  score  with  a  black-lead  pencil 
the  words  by  him  selected.     The  books  he  used 
for   this  purpose  were    what  he  had  in   his   own 
collection,  a  copious  but  a  miserably  ragged  one, 
and  all  such  as  he  could  borrow ;  which  latter,  if 
ever  they  came  back  to  those  that  lent  them,  were 
so  defaced   as   to   be  scarce  worth   owning,   and 
yet  some  of  his  friends  were  glad  to  receive  and 
entertain  them  as  curiosities." 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


GOLDSMITH'S  CORNER. 


119 


"  Mr.  Bumey,"  says  Boswell,  "  during  a  visit  to 
the  capital,  had  an  interview  with  Johnson  in 
Gough  Square,  where  he  dined  and  drank  tea  with 
him,  and  was  introduced  to  the  acquaintance  of 
Mrs.  Williams.  After  dinner  Mr.  Johnson  proposed 
to  Mr.  Burney  to  go  up  with  him  into  his  garret, 
which  being  accepted,  he  found  there  about  five  or 
six  Greek  folios,  a  poor  writing-desk,  and  a  chair 
and  a  half.  Johnson,  giving  to  his  guest  the  entire 
seat,  balanced  himself  on  one  with  only  three  legs 
and  one  arm.  Here  he  gave  Mr.  Burney  Mrs. 
Williams's  history,  and  showed  him  some  notes 
on  Shakespeare  already  printed,  to  prove  that  he 
was  in  earnest.  Upon  Mr.  Burney's  opening 
the  first  volume  at  the  Merchant  of  Venice  he 
observed  to  him  that  he  seemed  to  be  more  severe 
on  Warburton  than  on  Theobald.  '  Oh,  poor 
Tib !'  said  Johnson,  *he  was  nearly  knocked 
down  to  my  hands  j  Warburton  stands  between 
me  and  him.'  '  But,  sir,'  said  Mr.  Burney, '  You'll 
have  Warburton  on  your  bones,  won't  you?' 
'  No,  sir ;'  he'll  not  come  out ;  he'll  only  growl 
in  his  den.'  *  But  do  you  think,  sir,  Warburton 
is  a  superior  critic  to  Theobald  ?'  *  Oh,  sir,  he'll 
make  two-and-fifty  Theobalds  cut  into  slices  !  The 
worst  of  Warburton  is  that  he  has  a  rage  for  saying 
something  when  there's  nothing  to  be  said.'  Mr. 
Burney  then  asked  him  whether  he  had  seen  the 
letter  Warburton  had  written  in  answer  to  a 
pamphlet  addressed  'to  the  most  impudent  man 
alive.'  He  answered  in  the  negative.  Mr.  Burney 
told  him  it  was  supposed  to  be  written  by  Mallet. 
A  controversy  now  raged  between  the  friends  of 
Pope  and  Bolingbroke,  and  Warburton  and  Mallet 
were  the  leaders  of  the  several  parties.  Mr.  Burney 
asked  him  then  if  he  had  seen  Warburton's  book 
against  Bolingbroke's  philosophy !  *  No,  sir ;  I 
have  never  read  Bolingbroke's  impiety,  and  there- 
fore am  not  interested  about  its  refutation.'" 

Goldsmith  appears  to  have  resided  at  No.  6, 
Wine  Office  Court  from  1760  to  1762,  during 
which  period  he  earned  a  precarious  livelihood  by 
writing  for  the  booksellers. 

They  still  point  out  Johnson  and  C  Idsmith's 
favourite  seats  in  the  north-east  corner  of  the 
window  of  that  cozy  though  utterly  unpretentious 
tavern,  the  "  Cheshire  Cheese,"  in  this  court. 

It  was  while  living  in  Wine  Office  Court  that 
Goldsmith  is  supposed  to  have  partly  written  that 
delightful  novel  "  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield,"  which 
he  had  begun  at  Canonbury  Tower.  We  like  to 
think  that,  seated  at  the  "  Cheese,"  he  perhaps 
espied  and  listened  to  the  worthy  but  credulous 
vicar  and  his  gosling  son  attending  to  the  profound 
theories  of  the  learned  and  philosophic  but  shifty 


Mr.  Jenkinson.  We  think  now  by  the  window, 
with  a  cross  light  upon  his  coarse  Irish  features, 
and  his  round  prominent  brow,  we  see  the  watchful 
poet  sit  eyeing  his  prey,  secretly  enjoying  the 
grandiloquence  of  the  swindler  and  the  admiration 
of  the  honest  country  parson. 

"One  day,"  says  Mrs.  Piozzi,  "Johnson  was 
called  abruptly  from  our  house  at  Southwark, 
after  dinner,  and,  returning  in  about  three  hours, 
said  he  had  been  with  an  enraged  author,  whose 
landlady  pressed  him  within  doors  while  the  bailiffs 
beset  him  without;  that  he  was  drinking  him- 
self drunk  with  Madeira  to  drown  care,  and 
fretting  over  a  novel  which,  when  finished,  was  to 
be  his  whole  fortune ;  but  he  could  not  get  it  done 
for  distraction,  nor  dared  he  stir  out  of  doors  to 
offer  it  for  sale.  Mr.  Johnson,  therefore,"  she 
continues,  "  sent  away  the  bottle  and  went  to  the 
bookseller,  recommending  the  performance,  and 
devising  some  immediate  relief;  which,  when  he 
brought  back  to  the  writer,  the  latter  called  the 
woman  of  the  house  directly  to  partake  of  punch 
and  pass  their  time  in  merriment.  It  was  not,"  she 
concludes,  "till  ten  years  after,  I  dare  say,  that 
something  in  Dr.  Goldsmith's  behaviour  struck  me 
with  an  idea  that  he  was  the  very  man  ;  and  then 
Johnson  confessed  that  he  was  so." 

"  A  more  scrupulous  and  patient  writer,"  says 
the  admirable  biographer  of  the  poet,  Mr.  John 
Forster,  "  corrects  some  inaccuracies  of  the  lively 
little  lady,  and  professes  to  give  the  anecdote 
authentically  from  Johnson's  own  exact  narration. 
'I  received  one  morning,'  Boswell  represents 
Johnson  to  have  said,  'a  message  from  poor 
Goldsmith,  that  he  was  in  great  distress,  and,  as 
it  was  not  in  his  power  to  come  to  me,  begging 
that  I  would  come  to  him  as  soon  as  possible.  I 
sent  him  a  guinea,  and  promised  to  come  to  him 
directly.  I  accordingly  went  as  soon  as  I  was 
dressed,  and  found  that  his  landlady  had  arrested 
him  for  his  rent,  at  which  he  was  in  a  violent 
passion.  I  perceived  that  he  had  already  changed 
my  guinea,  and  had  got  a  bottle  of  Madeira  and  a 
glass  before  him.  I  put  the  cork  into  the  bottle, 
desired  he  would  be  calm,  and  began  to  talk  to 
him  of  the  means  by  which  he  might  be  extricated. 
He  then  told  me  that  he  had  a  novel  ready  for 
the  press,  which  he  produced  to  me.  I  looked  into 
it  and  saw  its  merits,  told  the  landlady  I  should 
soon  return,  and,  having  gone  to  a  bookseller,  sold 
it  for  £(dO.  I  brought  Goldsmith  the  money,  and 
he  discharged  his  rent,  not  without  rating  his  land- 
lady in  a  high  tone  for  having  used  him  so  ill.' " 

The  arrest  is  plainly  connected  with  Newbery's 
reluctance  to  make  further  advances,  and  of  all 


I20 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributanes. 


Mrs.  Fleming's  accounts  found  among  Goldsmith's 
papers,  the  only  one  unsettled  is  that  for  the 
summer  months  preceding  the  arrest.  The  manu- 
script of  the  novel  seems  by  both  statements  (in 


would  surely  have  carried  it  to  the  elder  Newbery. 
He  did  not  do  this.  He  went  with  it  to  Francis 
Newbery,  the  nephew ;  does  not  seem  to  have 
given  a  very  brilliant  account  of  the  "  merit "  he 


GOUGH    SQUAKK    [Seepage    Il8). 


which  the  discrepancies  are  not  so  great  but  that 
Johnson  himself  may  be  held  accountable  for  them) 
to  have  been  produced  reluctantly,  as  a  last  re- 
source; and  it  is  possible,  as  Mrs.  Piozzi  intimates, 
that  it  was  still  regarded  as  unfinished.  But  if 
strong  adverse  reasons  had  not  existed,  Johnson 


had  perceived  in  it — -four  years  after  its  author's 
death  he  told  Reynolds  that  he  did  not  think  it 
would  have  had  much  success — and  rather  with 
regard  to  Goldsmith's  immediate  want  than  to  any 
confident  sense  of  the  value  of  the  copy,  asked  and 
obtained  the  ;^6o.     "And,  sir,"  he  said  afterwards 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


GOLDSMITH'S  STRUGGLES. 


121 


"a  sufficient  price,  too,  when  it  was  sold,  for  then 
the  fame  of  Goldsmith  had  not  been  elevated,  as 
it  afterwards  was,  by  his  *  Traveller,'  and  the  book- 
seller had  faint  hopes  of  profit  by  his  bargain. 
After '  The  Traveller,'  to  be  sure,  it  was  accidentally 
worth  more  money." 


fears  which  centred  in  it  doubtless  mingled  on 
that  miserable  day  with  the  fumes  of  the  Madeira. 
In  the  excitement  of  putting  it  to  press,  which 
followed  immediately  after,  the  nameless  novel 
recedes  altogether  from  the  view,  but  will  reappear 
in  due  time.     Johnson  approved  the  verses  more 


WINE  OFFICE  COURT  AND  THE   "CHESHIRE  CHEESE  "   {see  page  122). 


On  the  poem,  meanwhile,  the  elder  Newbery 
had  consented  to  speculate,  and  this  circumstance 
may  have  made  it  hopeless  to  appeal  to  him  with  a 
second  work  of  fancy.  For,  on  that  very  day  of 
the  arrest,  "The  Traveller"  lay  completed  in  the 
poet's  desk.  The  dream  of  eight  years,  the  solace 
and  sustainment  of  his  exile  and  poverty,  verged  at 
last  to  fulfilment  or  extinction,  and  the  hopes  and 
11 


than  the  novel;  read  the  proof-sheets  for  his  friend; 
substituted  here  and  there,  in  more  emphatic 
testimony  of  general  approval,  a  line  of  his  own  j 
prepared  a  brief  but  hearty  notice  for  the  Critical 
Rroiew,  which  was  to  appear  simultaneously  with 
the  poem,  and,  as  the  day  of  publication  drew 
near,  bade  Goldsmith  be  of  good  heart. 

Oliver  Goldsmith  came  first  to  London  in  1756, 


122 


OLD     AND  NFAV  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


a  raw  Irish  student,  aged  twenty-eight.  He  was 
just  fresh  from  Italy  and  Switzerland.  He  had 
heard  Voltaire  talk,  had  won  a  degree  at  Louvaine 
or  Padua,  had  been  ""bear  leader"  to  the  stingy 
nephew  of  a  rich  pawnbroker,  and  had  played  the 
flute  at  the  door  of  Flemish  peasants  for  a  draught 
of  beer  and  a  crust  of  bread.  No  city  of  golden 
pavement  did  London  prove  to  those  worn  and 
dusty  feet.  Almost  a  beggar  had  Oliver  been, 
then  an  apothecary's  joume)nman  and  quack  doctor, 
next  a  reader  of  proofs  for  Richardson,  the  novelist 
and  printer ;  after  that  a  tormented  and  jaded  usher 
at  a  Peckham  school ;  last,  and  worst  of  all,  a  hack 
writer  of  articles  for  Griffith's  Monthly  Review^ 
then  being  opposed  by  Smollett  in  a  rival  publica- 
tion. In  Green  Arbour  Court  Goldsmith  spent 
the  roughest  part  of  the  toilsome  years  before 
he  became  known  to  the  world.  There  he  formed 
an  acquaintance  with  Johnson  and  his  set,  and 
wrote  essays  for  Smollett's  British  Magazine. 

Wine  Office  Court  is  supposed  to  have  derived 
its  name  from  an  office  where  licenses  to  sell 
wine  were  formerly  issued.  "  In  this  court,"  says 
Mr.  Noble,  "  once  flourished  a  fig  tree,  planted  a 
century  ago  by  the  Vicar  of  St.  Bride's,  who 
resided,  with  an  absence  of  pride  suitable,  if 
not  common,  to  Christianity,  at  No.  12.  It  was  a 
slip  from  another  exile  of  a  tree,  formerly  flourish- 
ing, in  a  sooty  kind  of  grandeur,  at  the  sign  of 
the  'Fig  Tree,'  in  Fleet  Street.  This  tree  was 
struck  by  lightning  in  1820,  but  slips  from  the 
growing  stump  were  planted  in  1822,  in  various 
parts  of  England." 

The  old-fashioned  and  changeless  character  of 
the  "  Cheese,"  in  whose  low-roofed  and  sanded 
rooms  Goldsmith  and  Johnson  have  so  often  hung 
up  their  cocked  hats  and  sat  down  facing  each 
other  to  a  snug  dinner,  not  unattended  with  punch, 
has  been  capitally  sketched  by  a  modem  essayist, 
who  possesses  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  physi- 
ology of  London.  In  an  admirable  paper  entitled 
"Brain  Street,"  Mr.  George  Augustus  Sala  thus 
describes  Wine  Office  Court  and  the  "Cheshire 
Cheese":— 

"The  vast  establishments,"  says  Mr.  Sala,  "of 
Messrs.  Pewter  &  Antimony,  typefounders  (Alder- 
man Antimony  was  Lord  Mayor  in  the  year  '46); 
of  Messrs.  Quoin,  Case,  &  Chappell,  printers  to 
the  Board  of  Blue  Cloth ;  of  Messrs.  Cutedge 
&  Treecalf,  bookbinders  ;  with  the  smaller  in- 
dustries of  Scawper  &  Tinttool,  wood-engravers ; 
and  Treacle,  Gluepot,  &  Lampblack,  printing- 
roller  makers,  are  packed  together  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  court  as  closely  as  herrings  in  a 
cask.    The  *  Cheese '  is  at  the  Brain  Street  end. 


It  is  a  litde  lop-sided,  wedged-up  house,  that 
always  reminds  you,  structurally,  of  a  high- 
shouldered  man  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 
It  is  full  of  holes  and  corners  and  cupboards  and 
sharp  turnings ;  and  in  ascending  the  stairs  to  the 
tiny  smoking-room  you  must  tread  cautiously,  if 
you  would  not  wish  to  be  tripped  up  by  plates 
and  dishes,  momentarily  deposited  there  by  furious 
waiters.  The  waiters  at  the  *  Cheese '  are  always 
furious.  Old  customers  abound  in  the  comfortable 
old  tavern,  in  whose  sanded-floored  eating-rooms 
a  new  face  is  a  rarity ;  and  the  guests  and  the 
waiters  are  the  oldest  of  familiars.  Yet  the  waiter 
seldom  fails  to  bite  your  nose  off"  as  a  preliminary 
measure  when  you  proceed  to  pay  him.  .  How 
should  it  be  otherwise  when  on  that  waiter's  soul 
there  lies  heavy  a  perpetual  sense  of  injury  caused 
by  the  savoury  odour  of  steaks,  and  'muts'  to 
follow ;  of  cheese-bubbling  in  '  iny  tins — the 
'  specialty '  of  the  house ;  of  floury  potatoes  and 
fragrant  green  peas ;  of  cool  salads,  and  cooler 
tankards  of  bitter  beer ;  of  extra-creaming  stout 
and  'goes'  of  Cork  and  'rack,'  by  which  is  meant 
gin ;  and,  in  the  winter-time,  of  Irish  stew  and 
rump-steak  pudding,  glorious  and  grateful  to  every 
sense  ?  To  be  compelled  to  run  to  and  fro  with 
these  succulent  viands  from  noon  to  late  at  night, 
without  being  able  to  spare  time  to  consume  them 
in  comfort — where  do  waiters  dine,  and  when,  and 
how? — to  be  continually  taking  other  people's 
money  only  for  the  purpose  of  handing  it  to  other 
people — are  not  these  grievances  sufficient  to  cross- 
grain  the  temper  of  the  mildest-mannered  waiter  ? 
Somebody  is  always  in  a  passion  at  the  '  Cheese : ' 
either  a  customer,  because  there  is  not  fat  enough 
on  his  '  point  '-steak,  or  because  there  is  too  much 
bone  in  his  mutton-chop ;  or  else  the  waiter  is 
wrath  with  the  cook;  or  the  landlord  with  the 
waiter,  or  the  barmaid  with  all.  Yes,  there  is  a 
barmaid  at  the  '  Cheese,'  mewed  up  in  a  box  not 
much  bigger  than  a  birdcage,  surrounded  by  groves 
of  lemons,  '  ones '  of  cheese,  punch-bowls,  and 
cruets  of  mushroom-catsup.  I  should  not  care  to 
dispute  with  her,  lest  she  should  quoit  me  over  the 
head  with  a  punch-ladle,  having  a  William-the- 
Third  guinea  soldered  in  the  bowl. 

"Let  it  be  noted  in  candour  that  Law  finds  its  way 
to  the  '  Cheese '  as  well  as  Literature ;  but  the  Law 
is,  as  a  rule,  of  the  non-combatant  and,  conse- 
quently, harmless  order.  Literary  men  who  have 
been  called  to  the  bar,  but  do  not  practise  ;  briefless 
young  barristers,  who  do  not  object  to  mingling 
with  newspaper  men ;  with  a  sprinkling  of  retired 
solicitors  (amazing  dogs  these  for  old  port-wine; 
the   landlord  has  some  of  the    same  bin  which 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


SHOE  LANE  AKD   SHAKESPEARE. 


123 


served  as  Hippocrene  to  Judge  Blackstone  when 
he  wrote  his  'Commentaries') — these  make  up 
the  legal  element  of  the  '  Cheese.'  Sharp  attorneys 
in  practice  are  not  popular  there.  There  is  a 
legend  that  a  process-server  once  came  in  at  a 
back  door  to  serve  a  writ ;  but  being  detected 
by  a  waiter,  was  skilfully  edged  by  that  wary 
retainer  into  Wine  Bottle  Court,  right  past  the 
person  on  whom  he  was  desirous  to  inflict  the 
'  Victoria,  by  the  grace,  &c.'  Once  in  the  court, 
he  was  set  upon  by  a  mob  of  inky-faced  boys 
just  released  from  the  works  of  Messrs.  Ball, 
Roller,  &  Scraper,  machine  printers,  and  by  the 
skin  of  his  teeth  only  escaped  being  converted 
into  *pie."' 

Mr.  William  Sawyer  has  also  written  a  very 
admirable  sketch  of  the  "  Cheese "  and  its  old- 
fashioned,  conservative  ways,  which  we  cannot 
resist  quoting  : — 

"We  are  a  close,  conservative,  inflexible  body 
— we,  the  regular  frequenters  of  the  'Cheddar,'" 
says  Mr.  Sawyer.  "  No  new-fangled  notions, 
new  usages,  new  customs,  or  new  customers  for 
us.  We  have  our  history,  our  traditions,  and  our 
observances,  all  sacred  and  inviolable.  Look 
around  !  There  is  nothing  new,  gaudy,  flippant,  or 
efieminately  luxurious  here.  A  small  room  with 
heavily-timbered  windows.  A  low  planked  ceiling. 
A  huge,  projecting  fire-place,  with  a  great  copper 
boiler  always  on  the  simmer,  the  sight  of  which 
might  have  roused  eVen  old  John  Willett,  of  the 
'Maypole,'  to  admiration.  High,  stiff"-backed, 
inflexible  ^settles,'  hard  and  grainy  in  texture, 
box  off"  the  guests,  half-a-dozen  each  to  a  table. 


Sawdust  covers  the  floor,  giving  forth  that  peculiar 
faint  odour  which  the  French  avoid  by  the  use  oi 
the  vine  sawdust  with  its  pleasant  aroma.  The 
only  ornament  in  which  we  indulge  is  a  solitary 
picture  over  the  mantelpiece,  a  full-length  of  a  now 
departed  waiter,  whom  in  the  long  past  we  caused 
to  be  painted,  by  subscription  of  the  whole  room,  to 
commemorate  his  virtues  and  our  esteem.  He  is 
depicted  in  the  scene  of  his  triumphs — in  the  act 
of  giving  change  to  a  customer.  We  sit  bolt  up- 
right round  our  tables,  waiting,  but  not  impatient. 
A  time-honoured  solemnity  is  about  to  be  ob- 
served, and  we,  the  old  stagers,  is  it  for  us  to 
precipitate  it  ?  There  are  men  in  this  room  who 
have  dined  here  every  day  for  a  quarter  of  a  century 
— aye,  the  whisper  goes  that  one  man  did  it  even  on 
his  wedding-day  !  In  all  that  time  the  more  staid 
and  well-regulated  among  us  have  observed  a 
steady  regularity  of  feeding.  Five  days  in  the 
week  we  have  our  *  Rotherham  steak ' — that  mystery 
of  mysteries — or  our  '  chop  and  chop  to  follow,* 
with  the  indispensable  wedge  of  Cheddar — unless 
it  is  preferred  stewed  or  toasted — and  on  Saturday 
decorous  variety  is  afforded  in  a  plate  of  the  world- 
renowned  '  Cheddar '  pudding.  It  is  of  this  latter 
luxury  that  we  are  now  assembled  to  partake,  and 
that  with  all  fitting  ceremony  and  observance.  As 
we  sit,  like  pensioners  in  hall,  the  silence  is  broken 
only  by  a  strange  sound,  as  of  a  hardly  human 
voice,  muttering  cabalistic  words,  '  Ullo  mul  lum 
de  loodle  wumble  jum  ! '  it  cries,  and  we  know 
that  chops  and  potatoes  are  being  ordered  for 
some  benighted  outsider,  ignorant  of  the  fact  that 
it  is  pudding-day." 


CHAPTER    XI. 


FLEET  STREET  TRIBUTARIES- SHOE  LANE. 

The  First  Lucifers— Perkins'  Steam  Gun— A  Link  between  Shakespeare  and  Shoe  Lane— Florio  and  his  Labours— "  Cogers'  Hall"— Famous 
"Cogers"— A  Saturday  Night's  Debate— Gunpowder  Alley— Richard  Lovelace,  the  Cavalier  Poet— "  To  Althea,  from  Prison  "—Lilly  the 
Astrologer,  and  his  Knaveries— A  Search  for  Treasure  with  Davy  Ramsay— Hogarth  in  Harp  Alley— The  "  Society  of  Sign  Painters"— 
Hudson,  the  Song  Writer—"  Jack  Robinson  "—The  Bishop's  Residence— Bangor  House— A  Strange  Story  of  Unstamped  Newspapers— 
Chatterton's  Death— Curious  Legend  of  his  Burial— A  well-timed  Joke. 


At  the  east  corner  of  Peterborough  Court  (says 
Mr.  Timbs)  was  one  of  the  earliest  shops  for  the 
instantaneous  light  apparatus,  "  Hertner's  Eupy- 
rion"  (phosphorus  and  oxymuriate  matches,  to 
be  dipped  in  sulphuric  acid  and  asbestos),  the 
costly  predecessor  of  the  lucifer  match.  Nearly 
opposite  were  the  works  of  Jacob  Perkins,  the 
engineer  of   the    steam  ,gun    exhibited    at    the 


1  Adelaide  Gallery,  Strand,  and  which  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  truly  foretold  would  never  be  advan- 
tageously employed  in  battle. 

One  golden  thread  of  association  links  Shake- 
speare to  Shoe  Lane.  Slight  and  frail  is  the  thread, 
yet  it  has  a  double  strand.  In  this  narrow  side- 
aisle  of  Fleet  Street,  in  1624,  lived  John  Florio, 
the  compiler  of  our  fir^-t  Italian  dictionary.     Now 


124 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


it  is  more  than  probable  that  our  great  poet 
knew  this  industrious  Italian,  as  we  shall  presently 
show.  Florio  was  a  Waldensian  teacher,  no  doubt 
driven  to  England  by  religious  persecution.  He 
taught  French  and  Italian  with  success  at  Oxford, 
and  finally  was  appointed  tutor  to  that  generous- 
minded,  hopeful,  and  unfortunate  Prince  Henry, 
son  of  James  I.  Florio's  "Worlde  of  Wordes"  (a 
most  copious  and  exact  dictionary  in  Italian  and 
English)  was  printed  in  1598,  and  published  by 
Arnold  Hatfield  for  Edward  Church,  and  "sold  at 
his  shop  over  against  the  north  door  of  Paul's 
Church."  It  is  dedicated  to  "  The  Right  Honour- 
able Patrons  of  Virtue,  Patterns  of  Honour,  Roger 
Earle  of  Rutland,  Henrie  Earle  of  Southampton, 
and  Lucie  Countess  of  Bedford."  In  the  dedica- 
tion, worthy  of  the  fantastic  author  of  "  Euphues  " 
himself,  the  author  says: — "My  hope  springs 
out  of  three  stems — ^your  Honours'  naturall  benig- 
nitie ;  your  able  emploiment  of  such  servitours  ; 
and  the  towardly  like-lie-hood  of  this  springall  to 
do  you  honest  service.  The  first,  to  vouchsafe 
all ;  the  second,  to  accept  this ;  the  third,  to  applie 
it  selfe  to  the  first  and  second.  Of  the  first,  your 
birth,  your  place,  and  your  custome ;  of  the 
second,  your  studies,  your  conceits,  and  your 
exercise;  of  the  thirde,  my  endeavours,  my  pro- 
ceedings, and  my  project  giues  assurance.  Your 
birth,  highly  noble,  more  than  gentle ;  your  place, 
above  others,  as  in  degree,  so  in  height  of  bountie, 
and  other  vertues ;  your  custome,  never  wearie  of 
well  doing;  your  studies  much  in  all,  most  in 
Italian  excellence ;  your  conceits,  by  understanding 
others  to  worke  above  them  in  your  owne;  your 
e;cercise,  to  reade  what  the  world's  best  writers 
have  written,  and  to  speake  as  they  write.  My 
endeavour,  to  apprehend  the  best,  if  not  all;  my 
proceedings,  to  impart  my  best,  first  to  your 
Honours,  then  to  all  that  emploie  me  ;  my  proiect 
in  this  volume  to  comprehend  the  best  and  all, 
in  truth,  I  acknowledge  an  entyre  debt,  not  only 
of  my  best  knowledge,  but  of  all,  yea,  of  more 
than  I  know  or  can,  to  your  bounteous  lordship, 
most  noble,  most  vertuous,  and  most  Honorable 
Earle  of  Southampton,  in  whose  paie  and  patronage 
I  haue  lined  some  yeeres ;    to  whom  I  owe  and 

vowe  the  yeeres  I  haue  to  live Good  parts 

imparted  are  not  empaired ;  your  springs  are 
first  to  seme  yourself,  yet  may  yeelde  your  neigh- 
bours sweete  water;  your  taper  is  to  light  you 
first,  and  yet  it  may  light  your  neighbour's  candle. 
....  Accepting,  therefore,  of  the  childe,  I 
hope  your  Honors'  wish  as  well  to  the  Father, 
who  to  your  Honors'  all  denoted  wisheth  meede 
of  your  merits,  renowne  of  your  vertues,  and  health 


of  your  persons,  humblie  with  gracious  leave 
kissing  your  thrice-honored  hands,  protesteth  to 
continue  euer  your  Honors'  most  humble  and 
bounden  in  true  seruice,  John  Florio." 

And  now  to  connect  Florio  with  Shakespeare. 
The  industrious  Savoyard,  besides  his  dictionary — 
of  great  use  at  a  time  when  the  tour  to  Italy  was 
a  necessary  completion  of  a  rich  gallant's  educa- 
tion— translated  the  essays  of  that  delightful 
old  Gascon  egotist,  Montaigne.  Now  in  a  copy 
of  Florio's  "  Montaigne "  there  was  found  some 
years  ago  one  of  the  very  few  genuine  Shakespeare 
signatures.  Moreover,  as  Florio  speaks  of  the 
Earl  of  Southampton  as  his  steady  patron,  we  may 
fairly  presume  that  the  great  poet,  who  must  have 
been  constantly  at  Southampton's  house,  often 
met  there  the  old  Italian  master.  May  not  tlie 
bard  in  those  conversations  have  perhaps  gathered 
some  hints  for  the  details  of  Cymbeline,  Romeo 
afi4  Juliet,  Othello,  or  The  Two  Gentlemen  of 
Verofia,  and  had  his  attention  turned  by  the  old 
scholar  to  fresh  chapters  of  Italian  story  ? 

No  chronicle  of  Shoe  Lane  would  be  complete 
without  some  mention  of  the  "  Cogers'  Discussion 
Hall,"  formerly  at  No.  10.  This  useful  debating 
society — a  great  resort  for  local  politicians — was 
founded  by  Mr.  Daniel  Mason  as  long  ago  as  1755, 
and  among  its  most  eminent  members  it  glories  ip 
the  names  of  John  Wilkes,  Judge  Keogh,  Daniel 
O'Connell,  and  the  eloquent  Curran.  The  word 
"Coger"  does  not  imply  codger,  or  a  drinker 
of  cogs,  but  comes  from  cogito,  to  cogitate.  The 
Grand,  Vice-Grand,  and  secretary  were  elected  on 
the  night  of  every  14th  of  June  by  show  of  hands. 
The  room  was  open  to  strangers,  but  the  members 
had  the  right  to  speak  first.  The  society  was 
Republican  in  the  best  sense,  for  side  by  side  with 
master  tradesmen,  shopmen,  and  mechanics,  re- 
porters and  young  barristers  gravely  sipped  their 
grog,  and  abstractedly  emitted  wreathing  columns 
of  tobacco-smoke  from  their  pipes.  Mr.  J.  Par- 
kinson has  sketched  the  little  parliament  very 
pleasantly  in  the  columns  of  a  contemporary. 

"  A  long  low  room,"  says  the  writer,  "  like  the 
saloon  of  a  large  steamer.  Wainscoat  dimmed  and 
ornaments  tarnished  by  tobacco-smoke  and  the 
lingering  dews  of  steaming  compounds.  A  room 
with  large  niches  at  each  end,  like  shrines  for  full- 
growp  ""Jnts,  one  niche  containing  '  My  Grand '  in 
a  framework  of  shabby  gold,  the  other  '  My  Grand's 
Deputy'  in  a  bordering  more  substantial.  More 
than  one  hundred  listeners  are  wating  patiently  for 
My  Grand's  utterances  this  Saturday  night,  and  are 
whiling  away  the  time  philosophically  with  bibulous 
and  nicotian  refreshment.     The  narrow  tables  of 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.'] 


THE   "COGERS." 


125 


the  long  room  are  filled  with  students  and  per- 
formers, and  quite  a  little  crowd  is  congregated 
at  the  door  and  in  a  room  adjacent  until  places 
can  be  found  for  them  in  the  presence-chamber. 

*  EstabHshed  1755 '  is  inscribed  on  the  ornamental 
signboard  above  us,  and  'Instituted  1756'  on 
another  signboard  near.  Dingy  portraits  of  de- 
parted Grands  and  Deputies  decorate  the  walls. 
Punctually  at  nine  My  Grand  opens  the  proceed- 
ings amid  profound  silence.  The  deputy  buries 
himself  in  his  newspaper,  and  maintains  as  pro- 
found a  calm  as  the  Speaker  'in  another  p|ace.' 
The  most  perfect  order  is  preserved.  The  Speaker 
or  deputy,  who  seems  to  know  all  about  it,  rolls 
silently  in  his  chair :  he  is  a  fat  dark  man,  with  a 
small  and  rather  sleepy  eye,  such  as  I  have  seen 
come  to  the  surface  and  wink  lazily  at  the  fashion- 
able people  clustered  round  a  certain  tank  in  the 
Zoological  Gardens.  He  re-folds  his  newspaper 
from  time  to  time  until  deep  in  the  advertisements. 
The  waiters  silently  remove  empty  tumblers  and 
tankards,  and  replace  them  full.  But  My  Grand 
commands  profound  attention  from  the  room, 
and  a  neighbour,  who  afterwards  proved  a  per- 
fect Boanerges  in  debate,  whispered  to  us  con- 
cerning his  vast  attainments  and  high  literary 
position. 

"This  chieftain  of  the  Thoughtful  Men  is,  we 
learn,  the  leading  contributor  to  a  newspaper  of 
large    circulation,    and,    under    his    signature    of 

*  Locksley  Hall,'  rouses  the  sons  of  toil  to  a  sense 
of  the  dignity  and  rights  of  labour,  and  exposes  the 
profligacy  and  corruption  of  the  rich  to  the  extent 
of  a  column  and  a  quarter  every  week.  A  shrewd, 
hard-headed  man  of  business,  with  a  perfect  know- 
ledge of  what  he  had  to  do,  and  with  a  humorous 
twinkle  of  the  eye.  My  Grand  went  steadily  through 
his  work,  and  gave  the  Thoughtful  Men  his  epitomt 
of  the  week's  intelligence.  It  seemed  clear 
that  the  Cogers  had  either  not  read  the  news- 
papers, or  liked  to  be  told  what  they  already  knew. 
They  listened  with  every  token  of  interest  to  facts 
which  had  been  published  for  days,  and  it  seemed 
difficult  to  understand  how  a  debate  could  be  car- 
ried on  when  the  text  admitted  so  little  dispute. 
But  we  sadly  underrated  the  capacity  of  the  orators 
near  us.  The  sound  of  My  Grand's  last  sentence 
had  not  died  out  when  a  fresh-coloured,  rather 
aristocratic-looking  elderly  man,  whose  white  hair 
was  carefully  combed  and  smoothed,  and  whose 
appearance  and  manner  suggested  a  very  different 
arena  to  the  one  he  waged  battle  in  no>y.  claimed 
the  attention  of  the  Thoughtful  ones.  Addressing 
'  Mee  Grand '  in  the  rich  and  unctuous  tones  which 
a  Scotchman  and  Englishman  might  try  for  in  vain, 


this  orator  proceeded,  with  every  profession  of 
respect,  to  contradict  most  of  the  chief's  statements,, 
to  ridicule  his  logic,  and  to  compliment  him  with 
much  irony  on  his  overwhelming  goodness  to  the 
society  '  to  which  I  have  the  honour  to  belong. 
Full  of  that  hard  northern  logic'  (much  emphasis 
on  *  northern,'  which  was  warmly  accepted  as  a  hit 
by  the  room) — 'that  hard  northern  logic  which 
demonstrates  everything  to  its  own  satisfaction ; 
abounding  in  that  talent  which  makes  you,  sir,  a 
leader  in  politics,  a  guide  in  theology,  and  generally 
an  instructor  of  the  people ;  yet  even  you,  sir,  are 
perhaps,  if  I  may  say  so,  somewhat  deficient  in  the 
lighter  graces  of  pathos  and  humour.  Your 
speech,  sir,  has  commanded  the  attention  of  the 
room.  Its  close  accuracy  of  style,  its  exactitude 
of  expression,  its  consistent  argument,  and  its 
generally  transcendant  ability  will  exercise,  I  doubt 
not,  an  influence  which  will  extend  far  beyond  this 
chamber,  filled  as  this  chamber  is  by  gentlemen  of 
intellect  and  education,  men  of  the  time,  who  both 
think  and  feel,  and  who  make  their  feelings  and 
their  thoughts  felt  by  others.  Still,  sir,'  and  the 
orator  smiles  the  smile  of  ineffable  superiority, 
'  grateful  as  the  members  of  the  society  you  have 
so  kindly  alluded  to  ought  to  be  for  your  counte- 
nance and  patronage,  it  needed  not'  (turning  to 
the  Thoughtful  Men  generally,  with  a  sarcastic 
smile) — 'it  needed  not  even  Mee  Grand's  enco- 
miums to  endear  this  society  to  its  people,  and  to 
strengthen  their  belief  in  its  efficacy  in  time  of 
trouble,  its  power  to  help,  to  relieve,  and  to 
assuage.  No,  Mee  Grand,  an  authoritee  whose 
dictum  even  you  will  accept  without  dispute — ^mee 
Lord  Macaulee — that  great  historian  whose  un- 
dying pages  record  those  struggles  and  trials  of 
constitutionalism  in  which  the  Cogers  have  borne 
no  mean  part — me  Lord  Macaulee  mentions,  with 
a  respect  and  reverence  not  exceeded  by  Mee 
Grand's  utterances  of  to-night'  (more  smiles  of 
mock  humility  to  the  room)  '  that  great  association 
which  claims  me  as  an  unworthy  son.  We  could, 
therefore,  have  dispensed  with  the  recognition 
given  us  by  Mee  Grand ;  we  could  afford  to  wait 
our  time  until  the  nations  of  the  earth  are  fused  by 
one  common  wish  for  each  other's  benefit,  when 
the  principles  of  Cogerism  are  spread  over  the 
civiHsed  world,  when  justice  reigns  supreme,  and 
loving-kindness  takes  the  place  of  jealousy  and 
hate.'  We  looked  round  the  room  while  these 
fervid  words  were  being  triumphantly  rolled  forth, 
and  were  struck  with  the  calm  impassiveness  of  the 
listeners.  There  seemed  to  be  no  partisanship 
either  for  the  speaker  or  the  Grand.  Once,  when 
the  former  was  more  than  usually  emphatic  in  his 


126 


OLD  AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


denunciations,  a  tall  pale  man,  with  a  Shakespeare 
forehead,  rose  suddenly,  with  a  determined  air,  as 
if  about  to  fiercely  interrupt  j  but  it  turned  out  he 
only  wanted  to  catch  the  waiter's  eye,  and  this 
done,  he  pointed  silently  to  his  empty  glass,  and 
remarked,  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  *  Without  sugar,  as 
before.' " 

Gunpowder  Alley,  a  side-twig  of  Shoe  Lane,  leads 
us  to  the  death-bed  of  an  unhappy  poet,  poor 
Richard  Lovelace,  the  Cavalier,  who,  dying  here 


only  to  waste  his  fortune  in  Royalist  plots.  He 
served  in  the  French  army,  raised  a  regiment  for 
Louis  XIII.,  and  was  left  for  dead  at  Dunkirk. 
On  his  return  to  England,  he  found  Lucy  Sache- 
verell — his  "Lucretia,"  the  lady  of  his  love — 
married,  his  death  having  been  reported.  All  went 
ill.  He  was  again  imprisoned,  grew  penniless, 
had  to  borrow,  and  fell  into  a  consumption  from 
despair  for  love  and  loyalty.  "  Having  consumed 
all  his  estate,"  says  Anthony  Wood,  "  he  grew  very 


COGERS'  HALL  {.see page  124). 


two  years  before  the  "  blessed  "  Restoration,  in  a 
very  mean  lodging,  was  buried  at  the  west  end  of 
St.  Bride's  Church.  The  son  of  a  knight,  and 
brought  up  at  Oxford,  Anthony  Wood  describes 
the  gallant  and  hopeful  lad  at  sixteen,  when  pre- 
sented at  the  Court  of  Charles  I.,  as . "  the  most 
amiable  and  beautiful  youth  that  eye  ever  beheld. 
A  person,  also,  of  innate  modesty,  virtue,  and 
courtly  deportment,  which  made  him  then,  but 
specially  after,  when  he  retired  to  the  great  city, 
much  admired  and  adored  by  the  female  sex." 
Presenting  a  daring  petition  from  Kent  in  favour 
of  the  king,  the  Cavalier  poet  was  thrown  into 
prison  by  the  Long  Parliament,  and  was  released 


melancholy,  which  at  length  brought  him  into  a 
consumption  ;  became  very  poor  in  body  and  purse, 
was  the  object  of  charity,  went  in  ragged  clothes 
(whereas  when  he  was  in  his  glory  he  wore  cloth  of 
gold  and  silver),  and  mostly  lodged  in  obscure  and 
dirty  places,  more  befitting  the  worst  of  beggars 
than  poorest  of  servants."  There  is  a  doubt,  how- 
ever, as  to  whether  Lovelace  died  in  such  abject 
poverty,  poor,  dependent,  and  unhappy  as  he  might 
have  been.  Lovelace's  verse  is  often  strained, 
affected,  and  wanting  in  judgment ;  but  at  times 
he  mounts  a  bright-winged  Pegasus,  and  with  plume 
and  feather  flying,  tosses  his  hand  up,  gay  and 
chivalrous  as  Rupert's  bravest.    His  verses  to  Lucy 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


LOVELACE  IN   DURANCE. 


127 


i-OVELACB    in   I-KISON    (see  page  128). 


125 


OLD  AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


Sacheverell,  on  leaving  her  for  the  French  camp,  are 
worthy  of  Montrose  himself.    The  last  two  lines — 

"  I  could  not  love  thee,  dear,  so  much, 
Lov'd  I  not  honour  more  " — 

contain  the  thirty-nine  articles  of  a  soldier's  faith. 
And  what  Wildrake  could  have  sung  in  the  Gate 
House  or  the  Compter  more  gaily  of  liberty  than 
Lovelace,  when  he  wrote, — 

"  Stone  walls  do  not  a  prison  make, 

Nor  iron  bars  a  cage  ; 
Minds  innocent  and  quiet  take 

That  for  a  hermitage. 
If  I  have  freedom  in  my  love, 

And  in  my  soul  am  free, 
Angels  alone,  that  soar  above. 

Enjoy  such  liberty  "  ? 

Whenever  we  read  the  verse  that  begins,— 

"  When  love,  with  unconfined.  wings, 
Hovers  within  my  gates, 
And  my  divine  Althea  brings, 
To  whisper  at  my  grates,"  . 

the  scene  rises  before  us — we  see  a  fair  pale  face, 
wiih  its  aureole  of  golden  hair  gleaming  between  the 
rusty  bars  of  the  prison  door,  and  the  worn  visage 
of  the  wounded  Cavalier  turning  towards  it  as  the 
flower  turns  to  the  sun.  And  surely  Master  Wildrake 
himself,  with  his  glass  of  sack  half-way  to  his  mouth, 
never  put  it  down  to  sing  a  finer  Royalist  stave 
than  Lovelace's  "  To  Althea,  from  Prison," — 

"  When,  linnet-like,  confined,  I 

With  shriller  note  shall  sing 
The  mercy,  sweetness,  majesty, 

And  glories  of  my  king ; 
When  I  shall  voice  aloud  how  good 

He  is,  how  great  should  be, 
Th'  enlarged  winds  that  curl  the  flood 

Know  no  such  liberty." 

In  the  Cromwell  times  there  resided  in  Gun- 
powder Alley,  probably  to  the  scorn  of  poor  dying 
Lovelace,  that  remarkable  cheat  and  early  medium, 
Lilly  the  astrologer,  the  Sidrophel  of  "  Hudibras." 
This  rascal,  who  supplied  the  King  and  Parliament 
alternately  with  equally  veracious  predictions,  was 
in  youth  apprenticed  to  a  mantua-maker  in  the 
Strand,  and  on  his  master's  death  married  his 
widow.  Lilly  studied  astrology  under  one  Evans, 
an  ex-clergyman,  who  told  fortunes  in  Gunpowder 
Alley.  Besotted  by  the  perusal  of  Cornelius 
Agrippa  and  other  such  trash,  Lilly,  found  fools 
plenty,  and  the  stars,  though  potent  in  their  spheres, 
unable  to  contradict  his  lies.  This  artful  cheat  was 
consulted  as  to  the  most  propitious  day  and  hour 
for  Charles's  escape  from  Carigbrook,  and  was  even 


sent  for  by  the  Puritan  generals  to  encourage  their 
men  before  Colchester.  Lilly  was  a  spy  of  the  Parlia- 
ment, yet  at  the  Restoration  professed  to  disclose 
the  fact  that  Cornet  Joyce  had  beheaded  Charles. 
Whenever  his  predictions  or  his  divining-rod  failed, 
he  always  attributed  his  failures,  as  the  modern 
spiritualists,  the  successors  of  the  old  wizards,  still 
conveniently  do,  to  want  of  faith  in  the  spectators. 
By  means  of  his  own  shrewdness,  rather  than  by 
stellar  influence,  Lilly  obtained  many  useful  friends, 
among  whom  we  may  specially  particularise  the  King 
of  Sweden,  Lenthal  the  Puritan  Speaker,  Bulstrode, 
Whitelocke  (Cromwell's  Minister),  and  the  learned 
but  credulous  Elias  Ashmole.  Lilly's  Almanac, 
the  predecessor  of  Moore's  and  Zadkiel's,  was  car- 
ried on  by  him  for  six-and-thirty  years.  He  claimed 
to  be  a  special  protege  of  an  angel  called  Sal- 
monffius,  and  to  have  a  more  than  bowing  acquaint- 
ance with  Salmael  and  Malchidael,  the  guardian 
angels  of  England.  Among  his  works  are  his  auto- 
biography, and  his  "  Observations  on  the  Life  and 
Death  of  Charles,  late  King  of  England."  The 
rest  of  his  effusions  are  pretentious,  mystical, 
muddle-headed  rubbish,  half  nonsense  half  knavery, 
as  "The  White  King's  Prophecy,"  "Supernatural 
Light,"  "The  Starry  Messenger,"  and  "Annus 
Tenebrosus,  or  the  Black  Year."  The  rogue's  starry 
mantle  descended  on  his  adopted  son,  a  tailor, 
whom  he  named  Merlin,  junior.  The  credulity  of 
the  atheistical  times  of  Charles  IL  is  only  equalled 
by  that  of  our  own  day. 

Lilly  himself,  in  his  amusing,  half-knavish  auto- 
biography, has  described  his  first  introduction  to 
the  Welsh  astrologer  of  Gunpowder  Alley : — 

"  It  happened,"  he  says,  "on one  Sunday,  1632, 
as  myself  and  a  justice  of  peace's  clerk  were,  before 
service,  discoursing  of  many  things,  he  chanced  to 
say  that  such  a  person  was  a  great  scholar — nay,  so 
learned  that  he  could  make  an  almanac,  which  to 
me  then  was  strange;  one  speech  begot  another, 
till,  at  last,  he  said  he  could  bring  me  acquainted 
with  one  Evans,  in  Gunpowder  Alley,  who  had 
formerly  lived  in  Staffordshire,  that  was  an  ex- 
cellent wise  man,  and  studied  the  black  art.  The 
same  week  after  we  went  to  see  Mr.  Evans.  When 
we  came  to  his  house,  he,  having  been  drunk  the 
night  before,  was  upon  his  bed,  if  it  be  lawful  to 
call  that  a  bed  whereon  he  then  lay.  He  roused 
tip  himself,  and  after  some  compliments  he  was 
content  to  instruct  me  in  astrology.  I  attended 
his  best  opportunities  for  seven  or  eight  weeks,  in 
which  time  I  could  set  a  figure  perfectly.  Books 
he  had  not  any,  except  Haly,  *  De  Judiciis  Astro- 
rum,'  and  Orriganus's  '  Ephemerides ; '  so  that  as 
often  as  I  entered   his  house  I  thought  I  was  in 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


HOGARTH   m   HARP  ALLEY. 


129 


the  wilderness.  Now,  something  of  the  man.  He 
was  by  birth  a  Welshman,  a  master  of  arts,  and  in 
sacred  orders.  He  had  formerly  had  a  cure  of 
souls  in  Staffordshire,  but  now  was  come  to  try  his 
fortunes  at  London,  being  in  a  manner  enforced  to 
fly,  for  some  offences  very  scandalous  committed 
by  him  in  those  parts  where  he  had  lately  lived ; 
for  he  gave  judgment  upon  things  lost,  the  only 
shame  of  astrology.  He  was  the  most  saturnine 
person  my  eye  ever  beheld,  either  before  I  prac- 
tised or  since ;  of  a  middle  stature,  broad  fore- 
head, beetle-browed,  thick  shoulders,  flat-nosed, 
full  lips,  down-looked,  black,  curling,  stiff  hair, 
splay-footed.  To  give  him  his  right,  he  had  the 
most  piercing  judgment  naturally  upon  a  figure  of 
theft,  and  many  other  questions,  that  I  ever  met 
withal ;  yet  for  money  he  would  willingly  give 
contrary  judgments;  was  much  addicted  to  de- 
bauchery, and  then  very  abusive  and  quarrelsome ; 
seldom  without  a  black  eye  or  one  mischief  or 
other.  This  is  the  same  Evans  who  made  so  many 
antimonial  cups,  upon  the  sale  whereof  he  chiefly 
subsisted.  He  understood  Latin  very  well,  the 
Greek  tongue  not  all ;  he  had  some  arts  above  and 
beyond  astrology,  for  he  was  well  versed  in  the 
nature  of  spirits,  and  had  many  times  used  the 
circular  way  of  invocating,  as  in  the  time  of  our 
familiarity  he  told  me." 

One  of  Lilly's  most  impudent  attempts  to  avail 
himself  of  demoniacal  assistance  was  when  he 
dug  for  treasure  (like  Scott's  Dousterswivel)  with 
David  Ramsay  (Scott  again),  one  stormy  night,  in 
the  cloisters  at  Westminster. 

"  Davy  Ramsay,"  says  the  arch  rogue,  "  his 
majesty's  clockmaker,  had  been  informed  that 
there  was  a  great  quantity  of  treasure  buried  in  the 
cloisters  of  Westminster  Abbey ;  he  acquaints  Dean 
Williams  therewith,  who  was  also  then  Bishop  of 
Lincoln ;  the  dean  gave  him  liberty  to  search  after 
it,  with  this  proviso,  that  if  any  was  discovered  his 
church  should  have  a  share  of  it.  Davy  Ramsay 
finds  out  one  John  Scott,*  who  pretended  the  use 
of  the  Mosaical  rods,  to  assist  him  therein.  I  was 
desired  to  join  with  him,  unto  which  I  consented. 
One  winter's  night  Davy  Ramsay,t  with  several 
gentlemen,  myself,  and  Scott,  entered  the  cloisters ; 
upon  the  west  side  of  the  cloisters  the  rods  turned 
one  over  another,  an  argument  that  the  treasure 
was  there.  The  labourers  digged  at  least  six  feet 
deep,  and  then  we  met  with  a  coffin,  but  in  regard 
it  was  not  heavy,  we  did  not  open,  which  we  after- 

*  "  This  Scott  lived  in  Pudding  Lane,  and  had  some  time 
been  a  page  (or  such-like)  to  the  Lord  Nonis." 

+  "  Davy  Ramsay  brought  a  half-quartern  sack  to  put  the 
treasure  in." 


wards  much  repented.  From  the  cloisters  we 
went  into  the  abbey  church,  where  upon  a  sudden 
(there  being  no  wind  when  we  began)  so  fierce,  so 
high,  so  blustering  and  loud  a  wind  did  rise,  that 
we  verily  believed  the  west-end  of  the  church 
would  have  fallen  upon  us ;  our  rods  would  not 
move  at  all ;  the  candles  and  torches,  all  but  one, 
were  extinguished,  or  burned  very  dimly.  John 
Scott,  my  partner,  was  amazed,  looked  pale,  knew 
not  what  to  think  or  do,  until  I  gave  directions 
and  command  to  dismiss  the  demons,  which  when 
done  all  was  quiet  again,  and  each  man  returned 
unto  his  lodging  late,  about  twelve  o'clock  at  night. 
I  could  never  since  be  induced  to  join  with  any 
in  such-like  actions. 

"  The  true  miscarriage  of  the  business  was  by 
reason  of  so  many  people  being  present  at  the 
operation,  for  tliere  was  about  thirty — some  laugh- 
ing, others  deriding  us ;  so  that  if  we  had  not 
dismissed  the  demons,  I  believe  most  part  of  the 
abbey  church  had  been  blown  down.  Secrecy  and 
intelligent  operators,  with  a  strong  confidence  and 
knowledge  of  what  they  are  doing,  are  best  for  this 
work." 

In  the  last  century,  when  every  shop  had  its 
sign  and  London  streets  were  so  many  out-of- 
door  picture-galleries,  a  Dutchman  named  Vander- 
trout  opened  a  manufactory  of  these  pictorial 
advertisements  in  Harp  Alley,  Shoe  Lane,  a  dirty 
passage  now  laid  open  to  the  sun  and  air  on  the 
east  side  of  the  new  transverse  street  running  from 
Ludgate  Hill  to  Holborn.  In  ridicule  of  the 
spurious  black,  treacly  old  masters  then  profusely 
offered  for  sale  by  the  picture-dealers  of  the  day, 
Hogarth  and  Bonnell  Thornton  opened  an  exhi- 
bition of  shop-signs.  In  Nicholls  and  Stevens' 
"  Life  of  Hogarth"  there  is  a  full  and  racy  account 
of  this  sarcastic,  exhibition  : — "At  the  entrance  of 
the  large  passage-room  was  written,  'N.B.  That  the 
merit  of  the  moder?i  masters  may  be  fairly  examined 
into,  it  has  been  thought  proper  to  place  some 
admired  works  of  the  most  eminent  old  masters  in 
this  room,  and  along  the  passage  through  the  yard.' 
Among  these  are  ^  A  Barge'  in  still  life,  by  Vander- 
trout.  He  cannot  be  properly  called  an  English 
artist ;  but  not  being  sufficiently  encouraged  in  his 
own  country,  he  left  Holland  with  William  the 
Third,  and  was  the  first  artist  who  settled  in  Harp 
Alley.  An  original  half-length  of  Camden,  the 
great  historian  and  antiquary,  in  his  herald's  coat ; 
by  Vandertrout.  As  this  artist  was  originally 
colour-grinder  to  Hans  Holbein,  it  is  conjectured 
there  are  some  lof  that  great  master's  touches  in 
this  piece.  '  Nobody,  alias  Somebody,'  a  cha- 
racter.   (The  figure  of  an  officer,  all'  head,  arms, 


I30 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


legs,  and  thighs.  This  piece  has  a  very  odd  effect, 
being  so  droUy  executed  that  you  do  not  miss  the 
body.)  *  Somebody,  alias  Nobody,'  a  caricature,  its 
companion  ;  both  these  by  Hagarty.  (A  rosy  figure, 
with  a  Httle  head  and  a  huge  body,  whose  belly 
sways  over  almost  quite  down  to  his  shoe-buckles. 
By  the  staff  in  his  hand,  it  appears  to  be  intended 
to  represent  a  constable.  It  might  else  have  been 
intended  for  an  eminent  justice  of  peace.)  'A 
Perspective  View  of  Billingsgate,  or  Lectures  on 
Elocution;'  and  'The  True  Robin  Hood  Society, 
a  Conversation  or  Lectures  on  Elocution,'  its  com- 
panion ;  these  two  by  Bamsley.  (These  two  strike 
at  a  famous  lecturer  on  elocution  and  the  reverend 
projector  of  a  rhetorical  academy,  are  admirably 
conceived  and  executed,  and — the  latter  more  espe- 
cially— almost  worthy  the  hand  of  Hogarth.  They 
are  full  of  a  variety  of  droll  figures,  and  seem,  in- 
deed, to  be  the  work  of  a  great  master  struggling  to 
suppress  his  superiority  of  genius,  and  endeavouring 
to  paint  down  to  the  common  style  and  manner  of 
sign-painting. ) 

"  At  the  entrance  to  the  grand  room  : — '  The 
Society  of  Sign  Painters  take  this  opportunity 
of  refuting  a  most  malicious  suggestion  that  their 
exhibition  is  designed  as  a  ridicule  on  the  exhi- 
bitions of  the  Society  for  the  Encouragement  of 
Arts,  &c.,  and  of  the  artists.  They  intend  theirs 
only  as  an  appendix  or  (in  the  style  of  painters)  a 
companion  to  the  other.  There  is  nothing  in  their 
collection  which  will  be  understood  by  any  candid 
person  as  a  reflection  on  anybody,  or  any  body  of 
men.  They  are  not  in  the  least  prompted  by  any 
mean  jealousy  to  depreciate  the  merit  of  their 
brother  artists.  Animated  by  the  same  public 
spirit,  their  sole  view  is  to  convince  foreigners,  as 
well  as  their  o\vn  blinded  countrymen,  that  how- 
ever inferior  this  nation  may  be  unjustly  deemed 
in  other  branches  of  the  polite  arts,  the  palm  for 
sign-painting  must  be  ceded  to  us,  the  Dutch  them- 
selves not  excepted.'  Projected  in  1762  by  Mr. 
Bonnel  Thornton,  of  festive  memory  ;  but  I  am  in- 
formed that  he  contributed  no  otherwise  towards 
this  display  than  by  a  few  touches  of  chalk.  Among 
the  heads  of  distinguished  personages,  finding 
those  of  the  King  of  Prussia  and  the  Empress  of 
Hungary,  he  changed  the  cast  of  their  eyes,  so  as 
to  make  them  leer  significantly  at  each  other. 
Note. — These  (which  in  the  catalogue  are  called  an 
original  portrait  of  the  present  Emperor  of  Prussia 
and  ditto  of  the  Empress  Queen  of  Hungary,  its 
antagonist)  were  two  old  signs  of  the  "Saracen's 
Head"  and  Queen  Anne.  Under  the  first  was 
v/ritten  '  The  Zarr,'  and  under  the  other  '  The 
Empress  Quean.'    They  were  lolling  their  tongues 


out  at  each  other ;  and  over  their  heads  ran  a 
wooden  label,  inscribed,  '  The  present  state  of 
Europe.' 

"In  1762  was  pubHshed,  in  quarto,  undated, 
*  A  Catalogue  of  the  Original  Paintings,  Busts,  and 
Carved  Figures,  &c.  &c.,  now  Exhibiting  by  the 
Society  of  Sign-painters,  at  the  Large  Room,  the 
upper  end  of  Bow  Street,  Covent  Garden,  nearly 
opposite  the  Playhouse.' " 

At  98,  Shoe  Lane  lived,  now  some  fifty  years  ago, 
a  tobacconist  named  Hudson,  a  great  humorist,  a 
fellow  of  infinite  fancy,  and  the  writer  of  half  the 
comic  songs  that  once  amused  festive  London. 
Hudson  afterwards,  we  believe,  kept  the  "  Kean's 
Head  "  tavern,  in  Russell  Court,  Drury  Lane,  and 
about  1830  had  a  shop  of  some  kind  or  other  in 
Museum  Street,  Bloomsbury.  Hudson  was  one  of 
those  professional  song-writers  and  vocalists  who 
used  to  be  engaged  to  sing  at  such  supper-rooms 
and  theatrical  houses  as  Offiey's,  in  Henrietta  Street 
(north-west  end),  Covent  Garden ;  the  "  Coal  Hole," 
in  the  Strand ;  and  the  "  Cider  Cellars,"  Maiden 
Lane.  Sitting  among  the  company,  Hudson  used 
to  get  up  at  the  call  of  the  chairman  and  "  chant" 
one  of  his  lively  and  really  witty  songs.  The  plat- 
form belongs  to  "  Evans's "  and  a  later  period. 
Hudson  was  at  his  best  long  after  Captain  Morris's 
day,  and  at  the  time  when  Moore's  melodies  were 
popular.  Many  of  the  melodies  Hudson  parodied 
very  happily,  and  with  considerable  tact  and  taste. 
Many  of  Hudson's  songs,  such  as  "Jack  Robinson" 
(infinitely  funnier  than  most  of  Dibdin's),  became 
coined  into  catch-words  and  street  sayings  of  the 
day.  "  Before  you  could  say  Jack  Robinson"  is 
a  phrase,  still  current,  derived  from  this  highly 
droll  song.  The  verse  in  which  Jack  Robinson's 
"engaged"  apologises  for  her  infidelity  is  as  good 
as  anything  that  James  Smith  ever  wrote.  To  the 
returned  sailor, — 

"  Says  the  lady,  says  she,  'I've  changed  my  state.' 

'  Why,  you  don't  mean, '  says  Jack,  '  that  you've  got  a  mate  ? 

You  know  you  promised  me.'    Says  she,  '  I  couldn't  wait. 

For  no  tidings  could  I  gain  of  you,  Jack  Robinson. 

And  somebody  one  day  came  to  me  and  said 

That  somebody  else  had  somewhere  read, 

In  some  newspaper,  that  you  was  somewhere  dead.' — 

*  I've  not  been  dead  at  all,'  says  Jack  Robinson." 

Another  song,  "  The  Spider  and  the  Fly,"  is  still 
often  sung;  and  "Going  to  Coronation"  is  by 
no  means  forgotten  in  Yorkshire.  "  There  was  a 
Man  in  the  West  Countrie"  figures  in  most  current 
collections  of  songs.  Hudson  particularly  excelled 
in  stage-Irishman  songs,  which  were  then  popular ; 
and  some  of  these,  particularly  one  that  ends  with 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


BANGOR  HOUSE. 


131 


the  refrain,  "  My  brogue  and  my  blarney  and 
bothering  ways,"  have  real  humour  in  them.  Many 
of  these  Irish  songs  were  written  for  and  sung' by 
the  late  Mr.  Fitzwilliam,  the  comedian,  as  others  of 
Hudson's  songs  were  by  Mr.  Rayner.  Collectors  of 
comic  ditties  will  not  readily  forget  "  Walker,  the 
Twopenny  Postman,"  or  "The  Dogs'-meat  Man" 
— rough  caricatures  of  low  life,  unstained  by  the 
vulgarity  of  many  of  the  modern  music-hall  ditties. 
In  the  motto  to  one  of  his  collections  of  poems, 
Hudson  borrows  from  Churchill  an  excuse  for  the 
rough,  humorous  effusions  that  he  scattered  broad- 
cast over  the  town, — 

"  Wlien  the  mad  fit  comes  on,  I  seize  the  pen, 
Rough  as  they  run,  the  rapid  thoughts  set  down  ; 
Rough  as  they  run,  discharge  them  on  the  town. 
Hence  rude,  unfinished  brats,  before  their  time, 
Are  born  into  this  idle  world  of  rhyme  ; 
And  the  poor  slattern  muse  is  brought  to  bed, 
With  all  her  imperfections  on  her  head. " 

We  subjoin  a  very  good  specimen  of  Hudson's 
songs,  from  his  once  vejy  popular  "  Coronation  of 
William  and  Adelaide"  (1830),  which,  we  think, 
will  be  allowed  to  fully  justify  our  praise  of  the 
author : — 

"  And  when  we  got  to  town,  quite  tired, 
The  bells  all  rung,  the  guns  they  fired, 
The  people  looking  all  bemired, 

In  one  conglomeration. 
Soldiers  red,  policemen  blue. 
Horse-guards,  foot-guards,  and  blackguards  too, 
Beef-eaters,  dukes,  and  Lord  knows  who, 
To  see  the  coronation. 

While  Dolly  bridled  up,  so  proud, 
At  us  the  people  laughed  aloud  ; 
Dobbin  stood  in  thickest  crowd, 

Wi'  quiet  resignation. 
To  move  again  he  wam't  inclined  ; 
'  Here's  a  chap  ! '  says  one  behind, 
'  He's  brought  an  old  horse,  lame  and  blind. 

To  see  the  coronation.' 

Dolly  cried,  '  Oh  !  dear,  oh  !  dear, 
I  wish  I  never  had  come  here, 
To  suffer  every  jibe  and  jeer. 

In  such  a  situation.* 
While  so  busy,  she  and  I 
To  get  a  little  ease  did  try. 
By  goles  !  the  king  and  queen  went  by. 

And  all  the  coronation. 

I  struggled  hard,  and  Dolly  cried ; 
And  tho'  to  help  myself  I  tried, 
We  both  were  carried  with  the  tide. 

Against  our  inclination. 

*  The  reign's  begvm  !'  folks  cried  ;  '  'tis  true  ;' 
'  Sure,'  said  Dolly,  '  I  think  so  too  ; 

*  The  rain's  begun,  for  I'm  wet  thro', 

•    "  All  through  the  coronation.' 


We  bade  good-bye  to  Lunnun  town  ; 
The  king  and  queen  they  gain'd  a  crown ; 
Dolly  spoilt  her  bran-new  gown, 

To  her  mortification. 
I'll  drink  our  king  and  queen  wi'  glee, 
In  home-brewed  ale,  and  so  will  she  ; 
But  Doll  and  I  ne'er  want  to  see 

Another  coronation. " 


Our  English  bishops,  who  had  not  the  same 
taste  as  the  Cistercians  in  selecting  pleasant  places 
for  their  habitations,  seein  during  the  Middle  Ages 
to  have  much  aifected  the  neighbourhood  of  Fleet 
Street.  Ely  Place  still  marks  the  residence  of  one 
rich  prelate.  In  Chichester  Rents  we  have  already 
met  with  the  humble  successors  of  the  netmaker 
of  GaUlee.  In  a  siding  on  the  north-west  side  of 
Shoe  Lane  the  Bishops  of  Bangor  lived,  with  their 
spluttering  and  choleric  Welsh  retinue,  as  early  as 
1378.  Recent  improvements  have  laid  open  the 
miserable  "  close  "  called  Bangor  Court,  that  once 
glowed  with  the  reflections  of  scarlet  hoods  and 
jewelled  copes;  and  a  schoolhouse  of  bastard 
Tudor  architecture,  with  sham  turrets  and  flimsy 
muUioned  windows,  now  occupies  the  site  of  the 
proud  Christian  prelate's  palace.  Bishop  Dolben, 
who  died  in  1633  (Charles  I.),  was  the  last  Welsh 
bishop  who  deigned  to  reside  in  a  neighbourhood 
from  which  wealth  and  fashion  was  fast  ebbing. 
Brayley  says  that  a  part  of  the  old  episcopal  garden, 
where  the  ecclesiastical  subjects  of  centuries  had 
been  discussed  by  shaven  men  and  frocked 
scholars,  still  existed  in  1759  (George  II.);  and, 
indeed,  as  Mr.  Jesse  records,  even  as  late  as  1828 
(George  IV.)  a  portion  of  the  old  mansion,  once 
redolent  with  the  stupefying  incense  of  the  semi- 
pagan  Church,  still  lingered.  Bangor  House,  accord- 
ing to  Mr.  J.  T.  Smith,  is  mentioned  in  the  patent 
rolls  as  early  as  Edward  III.  The  lawyers'  barbarous 
dog-Latin  of  the  old-deed  describe,  "unum  messuag, 
unum  placeam  terrae,  ac  unam  gardniam,  cum  aliis 
edificis,"  in  Shoe  Lane,  London.  In  1 647  (Charles  I.) 
Sir  John  Birkstead  purchased  of  the  Parliamentary 
trustees  the  bishop's  lands,  that  had  probably 
been  confiscated,  to  build  streets  upon  the  site. 
But  Sir  John  went  on  paving  the  old  place, 
and  never  built  at  all.  Cromwell's  Act  of  1657, 
to  check  the  increase  of  London,  entailed  a  special 
exemption  in  his  favour.  At  the  Restoration,  the 
land  returned  to  its  Welsh  bishop  ;  but  it  had 
degenerated— the  palace  was  divided  into  several 
residences,  and  mean  buildings  sprang  up  like  fungi 
around  it.  A  drawing  of  Malcolm's,  early  in  the 
century,  shows  us  its  two  Tudor  windows.  Latterly 
it  became  divided  into  wretched  rooms,  and  two 
or  three  hundred  poor  people,  chiefly  Irish,  herded 


13? 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


in  them.     The  house  was  entirely  pulled  down  in 
the  autumn  of  1828.  -  -:;1.  -  '• --«**:l 

Mr.  Grant,  that  veteran  of  the  press,  tells  a 
capital  story,  in  his  "  History  of  the  Newspaper 
Press,"  of  one  of  the  early  vendors  of  unstamped 
newspapers  in  Shoe  Lane  : — 


a  time  to  elude  their  vigilance ;  and  in  order  to 
prevent  the  seizure  of  his  paper,  he  resorted  to  an 
expedient  which  was  equally  ingenious  and  laugh- 
able. Close  by  his  little  shop  in  Shoe  Lane  there 
was  an  undertaker,  whose  business,  as  might  be 
inferred  from  the  neighbourhood,  as  well  as  from 


BANGOR  HOUSE,  1818  (seepage  131). 


"  Cleave' s  Police  Gazette,'''  says  Mr.  Grant,  "  con- 
sisted chiefly  of  reports  of  police  cases.  It  cer- 
tainly was  a  newspaper  to  all  intents  and  pur- 
poses, and  was  ultimately  so  declared  to  be  in  a 
court  of  law  by  a  jury.  But  in  the  meantime, 
while  the  action  was  pending,  the  police  had  in- 
structions to  arrest  Mr.  John  Cleave,  the  proprietor, 
and  seize  all  the  copies  of  the  paper  as  they  came 
out  of  his  office  in  Shoe  Lane.     He  contrived  for 


his  personal  appearance  and  the  homeliness  of  his 
shop,  was  exclusively  among  the  lower  and  poorer 
classes  of  the  community.  With  him  Mr.  Cleave 
made  an  arrangement  to  construct  several  coffins 
of  the  plainest  and  cheapest  kind,  for  purposes 
which  were  fully  explained.  The  'undertaker,' 
whose  ultra-republican  principles  were  in  perfect 
unison  with  those  of  Mr.  Cleave,  not  only  heartily 
undertook    the    work,   but    did   so   on   terms   so 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


CLEAVE'S   COFFINS. 


^33 


moderate  that  he  would  not  ask  for  nor  accept  any 
profit.  He,  indeed,  could  imagine  no  higher  nor 
holier  duty  than  that  of  assisting  in  the  dissemina- 
tion of  a  paper  which  boldly  and  energetically 
preached  the  extinction  of  the  aristocracy  and 
the  perfect  equality  in  social  position,  and  in 
property  too,  of  all  classes  of  the  community. 
Accordingly  the  coffins,  with  a  rudeness  in  make 
and  material  which  were  in  perfect  keeping  with 
the  purpose  to  which  they  were  to  be  applied,  were 
got  ready ;  and  Mr.  Cleave,  in  the  dead  of  night, 


readiness  to  render  a  similar  service  to  Mr.  Cleave 
and  the  cause  of  red  Republicanism  when  the  next 
Gazette  appeared. 

"In  this  way  Mr.  Cleave  contrived  for  some  time 
to  elude  the  vigilance  of  the  police  and  to  sell 
about  50,000  copies  weekly  of  each  impression  of 
his  paper.  But  the  expedient,  ingenious  and  emi- 
nently successful  as  it  was  for  a  time,  failed  at  last. 
The  people  in  Shoe  Lane  and  the  neighbourhood 
began  to  be  surprised  and  alarmed  at  the  number 
of  funerals,  as  they  believed  them  to  be,  which  the 


OLD  ST,  DUNStan's  CHURCH  {see  page  135). 


got  them  filled  with  thousands  of  his  Gazettes.  It 
had  been  arranged  beforehand  that  particular 
houses  in  various  parts  of  the  town  should  be  in 
readiness  to  receive  them  mth  blinds  down,  as  if 
some  relative  had  been  dead,  and  was  about  to  be 
borne  away  to  the  house  appointed  for  all  living. 
The  deal  coffin  was  opened,  and  the  contents  were 
taken  out,  tied  up  in  a  parcel  so  as  to  conceal 
from  the  prying  curiosity  of  any  chance  person  that 
they  were  Cleave' s  Police  Gazettes,  and  then  sent  off 
to  the  railway  stations  most  convenient  for  their 
transmission  to  the  provinces.  The  coffins  after 
this  were  returned  in  the  middle  of  next  night  to 
the  'undertaker's'  in  Shoe  Lane,  there  to  be  in 
12 


departure  of  so  many  coffins  from  the  *  undertaker's  * 
necessarily  implied.  The  very  natural  conclusion 
to  which  they  came  was,  that  this  supposed  sudden 
and  extensive  number  of  deaths  could  only  be  ac- 
counted for  on  the  assumption  that  some  fatal 
epidemic  had  visited  the  neighbourhood,  and 
there  made  itself  a  local  habitation.  The  parochial 
authorities,  responding  to  the  prevailing  alarm, 
questioned  the  *  undertaker '  friend  and  fellow- 
labourer  of  Mr.  Cleave  as  to  the  causes  of  his  sudden 
and  extensive  accession  of  business  in  the  coffin- 
making  way ;  and  the  result  of  the  close  questions 
put  to  him  was  the  discovery  of  the  whole  affair. 
It  need  hardly  be  added  that  an  immediate  and 


134 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


complete  collapse  took  place  in  Mr.  Cleave's  busi- 
ness, so  far  as  his  Police  Gazette  was  concerned. 
Not  another  number  of  the  publication  ever  made 
its  appearance,  while  the  coffin-trade  of  the  *  under- 
taker' all  at  once  returned  to  its  normal  proportions." 

This  stratagem  of  Cleave's  was  rivalled  a  few 
years  ago  by  M.  Herzen's  clever  plan  of  sending 
great  numbers  of  his  treasonable  and  forbidden 
paper,  the  Kolokol,  to  Russia,  soldered  up  in  sar- 
dine-boxes. No  Government,  in  fact,  can  ever  baffle 
determined  ahd  ingenious  smugglers. 

One  especially  sad  association  attaches  to  Shoe 
Lane,  and  that  is  the  burial  in  the  workhouse 
graveyard  (the  site  of  the  late  Farringdon  Market)  of 
that  unhappy  child  of  genius,  Chatterton  the  poet. 
In  August,  1770,  the  poor  lad,  who  had  come  from 
Bristol  full  of  hope  and  ambition  to  make  his  fortune 
in  London  by  his  pen,  broken-hearted  and  mad- 
dened by  disappointment,  destroyed  himself  in  his 
mean  garret-lodging  in  Brooke  Street,  Holborn,  by 
swallowing  arsenic.  Mr.  John  Dix,  his  very  un- 
scrupulous biographer,  has  noted  down  a  curious 
legend  about  the  possible  removal  of  the  poet's 
corpse  from  London  to  Bristol,  which,  doubtful  as 
it  is,  is  at  least  interesting  as  a  possibility  : — 

"  I  found,"  says  Mr.  Dix,  "  that  Mrs.  Stockwell, 
of  Peter  Street,  wife  of  Mr.  Stockwell,  a  basket- 
maker,  was  the  person  who  had  communicated  to 
Sir  R.  Wilmot  her  grounds  for  believing  Chatterton 
to  have  been  so  interred ;  and  on  my  requesting 
her  to  repeat  to  me  what  she  knew  of  that  affair, 
she  commenced  by  informing  me  that  at  ten  years 
of  age  she  was  a  scholar  of  Mrs.  Chatterton,  his 
mother,  where  she  was  taught  plain  work,  and  re- 
mained with  her  until  she  was  near  twenty  years  of 
age ;  that  she  slept  with  her,  and  found  her  kind 
and  motherly,  insomuch  that  there  were  many 
things  which  in  moments  of  affliction  Mrs.  C.  com- 
municated to  her,  that  she  would  not  have  wished 
to  have  been  generally  known  ;  and  among  others, 
she  often  repeated  how  happy  she  was  that  her 
unfortunate  son  lay  buried  in  Redcliff,  through  the 
kind  attention  of  a  friend  or  relation  in  London, 
v,ho,  after  the  body  had  been  cased  in  a  parish 
shell,  had  it  properly  secured  and  sent  to  her  by 
the  waggon ;  that  when  it  arrived  it  was  opened, 
and  the  corpse  found  to  be  black  and  half  putrid 
(having  been  burst  with  the  motion  of  the  car- 
riage, or  from  some  other  cause),  so  that  it  became 
necessary  to  inter  it  speedily;  and  that  it  was  early 
interred  by  Phillips,  the  sexton,  who  was  of  her 
family.  That  the  effect  of  the  loss  of  her  son  was 
a  nervous  disorder,  which  never  quitted  her,  and 
she  was  often  seen  weeping  at  the  bitter  remem- 
brance of  her  misfortune.     She  described  the  poet 


as  having  been  sharp-tempered,  but  that  it  was  soon 
over;  and  she  often  said  he  had  cost  her  many 
uneasy  hours,  from  the  apprehension  she  entertained 
of  his  going  mad,  as  he  was  accustomed  to  remain 
fixed  for  above  an  hour  at  a  time  quite  motionless, 
and  then  he  would  snatch  up  a  pen  and  write 
incessantly;  but  he  was  always,  she  added,  affec- 
tionate  

"  In  addition  to  this,  Mrs.  Stockwell  told  the 
^vriter  that  the  grave  was  on  the  right-hand  side 
of  the  lime-tree,  middle  paved  walk,  in  Redcliff 
Churchyard,  about  twenty  feet  from  the  father's 
grave,  which  is,  she  says,  in  the  paved  walk,  and 
where  now  Mrs.  Chatterton  and  Mrs.  Newton,  her 
daughter,  also  lie.  Also,  that  Mrs.  Chatterton 
gave  a  person  leave  to  bury  his  child  over  her 
son's  coffin,  and  was  much  vexed  to  find  that  he 
after^vards  put  the  stone  over  it,  which,  when 
Chatterton  was  buried,  had  been  taken  up  for  the 
purpose  of  digging  the  grave,  and  set  against  the 
church-wall ;  that  afterwards,  when  Mr.  Hutchin- 
son's or  Mr.  Taylor's  wife  died,  they  buried  her 
also  in  the  same  grave,  and  put  this  stone  over 
with  a  new  inscription.  (Query,  did  he  erase  the 
first,  or  turn  the  stone  ? — as  this  might  lead  to  a  dis- 
covery of  the  spot.)  .... 

*'  Being  referred  to  Mrs.  Jane  Phillips,  of  Rolls 
Alley,  Rolls  Lane,  Great  Gardens,  Temple  Parish 
(who  is  sister  to  that  Richard  Phillips  who  was  sexton 
at  Redcliff"  Church  in  the  year  1772),  she  informed 
me  that  his  widow  and  a  daughter  were  living  in 
Cathay ;  the  widow  is  sexton,  a  Mr.  Perrin,  of 
Colston's  Parade,  acting  for  her.  She  remembers 
Chatterton  having  been  at  his  father's  school,  and 
that  he  always  called  Richard  PhilHps,  her  brother, 
'  uncle,'  and  was  much  liked  by  him.  He  liked  him 
for  his  spirit,  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  he  would 
have  risked  the  privately  burying  him  on  that  ac- 
count. When  she  heard  he  was  gone  to  London 
she  was  sorry  to  hear  it,  for  all  loved  him,  and 
thought  he  could  get  no  good  tliere. 

'•'Soon  after  his  death  her  brother,  R.  Phillips, 
told  her  that  poor  Chatterton  had  killed  himself; 
on  which  she  said  she  would  go  to  Madame  Chat- 
terton's,  to  know  the  rights  of  it ;  but  that  he  forbade 
her,  and  said,  if  she  did  so  he  should  be  sorry  he 
had  told  her.  She,  however,  did  go,  and  asking  if  it 
was  true  that  he  was  dead,  Mrs.  Chatterton  began 
to  weep  bitterly,  saying,  '  My  son  indeed  is  dead  ! ' 
and  when  she  asked  her  where  he  was  buried, 
she  replied,  '  Ask  me  nothing ;  he  is  dead  and 
buried.' 

Poppin's  Court  (No.  109)  marks  the  site  of  the 
ancient  hostel  (hotel)  of  the  Abbots  of  Cirencester 
— though  what  they  did  there,  when  they  ought  to 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


THE   MEMORY   OF   MR.    FISHER. 


135 


have  been  on  their  knees  in  their  own  far-away 
Gloucestershire  abbey,  history  does  not  choose  to 
record.  The  sign  of  their  inn  was  the  "Poppin- 
gaye"  (popinjay,  parrot),  and  in  1602  (last  year  of 
Elizabeth)  the  alley  was  called  Poppingay  Alley. 
That  excellent  man  Van  Mildert  (then  a  poor 
curate,  living  in  Ely  Place,  afterwards  Bishop  of 
Durham — a  prelate  remarkable  for  this  above  all 
his  many  other  Christian  virtues,  that  he  was  not 
proud)  was  once  driven  into  this  alley  with  a  young 


barrister  friend  by  a  noisy  illumination-night  crowd. 
The  street  boys  began  firing  a  volley  of  squibs  at 
the'  young  curate,  who  found  all  hope  of  escape 
barred,  and  dreaded  the  pickpockets,  who  take  rapid 
advantage  of  such  temporary  embarrassments  ;  but 
his  good-natured  exclamation,  "  Ah  !  here  you  are, 
popping  away  in  Poppin's  Court ! "  so  pleased  the 
crowd  that  they  at  once  laughingly  opened  a  pas- 
sage for  him.  "  Sic  me  servavit,  Apollo,"  he  used 
afterwards  to  add  when  telling  the  story. 


CHAPTER     XII. 
FLEET    STREET    TRIBUTARIES    SOUTH. 

Worthy  Mr.  Fisher— Lamb's  Wednesday  Evenings— Persons  one  would  wish  to  have  seen— Ram  Alley — Serjeants'  Inn — The  Daily  News — 
"  Memory  "  Woodfall — A  Mug-House  Riot— Richardson's  Printing  Office— Fielding  and  Richardson— Johnson's  Estimate  of  Richardson — 
Hogarth  and  Richardson's  Guest— An  Egotist  Rebuked— The  King's  "  Housewife  " — Caleb  Colton  :  his  Life,  Works,  and  Sentiments. 


Falcon  Court,  Fleet  Street,  took  its  name  from 
an  inn  which  bore  the  sign  of  the  "  Falcon."  This 
passage  formerly  belonged  to  a  gentleman  named 
Fisher,  who,  out  of  gratitude  to  the  Cordwainers' 
Company,  bequeathed  it  to  them  by  will.  His 
gratitude  is  commonly  said  to  have  arisen  from  the 
number  of  good  dinners  that  the  Company  had 
given  him.  However  this  may  be,  the  Cordwainers 
are  the  present  owners  of  the  estate,  and  are  under 
the  obligation  of  having  a  sermon  preached  annu- 
ally at  the  neighbouring  church  of  St.  Dunstan,  on 
the  loth  of  July,  when  certain  sums  are  given  to 
the  poor.  Formerly  it  was  the  custom  to  drink  sack 
in  the  church  to  the  pious  memory  of  Mr.  Fisher, 
but  this  appears  to  have  been  discontinued  for  a 
considerable  period.  This  Fisher  was  a  jolly  fellow, 
if  all  the  tales  are  true  which  are  related  of  him, 
as,  besides  the  sack  drinking,  he  stipulated  that 
the  Cordwainers  should  give  a  grand  feast  on  the 
same  day  yearly  to  all  their  tenants.  What  a  quaint 
picture  might  be  made  of  the  churchwardens  in 
the  old  church  drinking  to  the  memory  of  Mr. 
Fisher  !  Wynkyn  de  Worde,  the  father  of  printing 
in  England,  lived  in  Fleet  Street,  at  his  messuage 
or  inn  known  by  the  sign  of  the  Falcon.  Whether 
it  was  the  inn  that  stood  on  the  site  of  Falcon 
Court  is  not  known  with  certainty,  but  most  pro- 
bably it  was. 

Charles  Lamb  came  to  16,  Mitre  Court  Build- 
ings in  1 800,  after  leaving  Southampton  Buildings, 
and  remained  in  that  quiet  harbour  out  of  Fleet 


Street  till  1809,  when  he  removed  to  Inner  Temple 
Lane. 

It  was  whilst  Lamb  was  residing  in  Mitre  Court 
Buildings  that  those  Wednesday  evenings  of  his 
were  in  their  glory.  In  two  of  Mr.  Hazlitt's  papers 
are  graphic  pictures  of  these  delightful  Wednesdays 
and  the  Wednesday  men,  and  admirable  notes  of 
several  choice  conversations.  There  is  a  curious 
sketch  in  one  of  a  little  tilt  between  Coleridge  and 
Holcroft,  which  must  not  be  omitted.  "  Coleridge 
was  riding  the  high  German  horse,  and  demon- 
strating the  '  Categories  of  the  Transcendental 
Philosophy'  to  the  author  of  The  Road  to  Ruin, 
who  insisted  on  his  knowledge  of  German  and 
German  metaphysics,  having  read  the  *  Critique 
of  Pure  Reason '  in  the  original.  *  My  dear  Mr. 
Holcroft,'  said  Coleridge,  in  a  tone  of  infinitely 
provoking  conciliation,  '  you  really  put  me  in  mind 
of  a  sweet  pretty  German  girl  of  about  fifteen,  in 
the  Hartz  Forest,  in  Germany,  and  who  one  day, 
as  I  was  reading  "The  Limits  of  the  Knowable 
and  the  Unknowable,"  the  profoundest  of  all  his 
works,  with  great  attention,  came  behind  my  chair, 
and  leaning  over,  said,  "  What !  you  read  Kant  ? 
Why,  I,  that  am  a  German  born,  don't  under- 
stand him  ! " '  This  was  too  much  to  bear,  and 
Holcroft,  starting  up,  called  out,  in  no  measured 
tone,  'Mr.  Coleridge,  you  are  the  most  eloquent 
man  I  ever  met  with,  and  the  most  troublesome 
with  your  eloquence.'  Phillips  held  the  cribbage- 
peg,  that  was  to  mark  him  game,  suspended  in  his 


136 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


liand,  and  the  whist-table  was  silent  for  a  moment. 
I  saw  Holcroft  downstairs,  and  on  coming  to  the 
landing-place  in  Mitre  Court  he  stopped  me  to 
observe  that  he  thought  Mr.  Coleridge  a  very 
clever  man,  with  a  great  command  of  language, 
but  that  he  feared  he  did  not  always  affix  very 
proper  ideas  to  the  words  he  used.  After  he  was 
gone  we  had  our  laugh  out,  and  went  on  with  the 
argument  on  *  The  Nature  of  Reason,  the  Imagi- 
nation, and  the  Will.'  ....  It  would  make  a 
supplement  to  the  '  Biographia  Literaria,'  in  a 
volume  and  a  half,  octavo." 

It  was  at  one  of  these  Wednesdays  that  Lamb 
started  his  famous  question  as  to  persons  "  one 
would  wish  to  have  seen."  It  was  a  suggestive 
topic,  and  proved  a  fruitful  one.  Mr.  Hazlitt,  who 
was  there,  has  left  an  account  behind  him  of  the 
kind  of  talk  which  arose  out  of  this  hint,  so  lightly 
thrown  out  by  the  author  of  "Elia,"  and  it  is 
worth  giving  in  his  own  words  : — 

"  On  the  question  being  started,  Ayrton  said, 
'  I  suppose  the  two  first  persons  you  would  choose 
to  see  would  be  the  two  greatest  names  in  English 
literature.  Sir  Isaac  Newton  and  Locke  ? '  In  this 
Ayrton,  as  usual,  reckoned  \vithout  his  host. 
Everyone  burst  out  a  laughing  at  the  expression  of 
Lamb's  face,  in  which  impatience  was  restrained 
by  courtesy.  '  Y — yes,  the  greatest  names,'  he 
stammered  out  hastily ;  '  but  they  were  not  persons 
— not  persons.'  '  Not  persons  ? '  said  Ayrton, 
looking  wise  and  foolish  at  the  same  time,  afraid  his 
triumph  might  be  premature.  *  That  is,'  rejoined 
Lamb,  *  not  characters,  you  know.  By  Mr.  Locke 
and  Sir  Isaac  Newton  you  mean  the  "  Essay  on 
the  Human  Understanding"  and  "Principia," 
which  we  have  to  this  day.  Beyond  their  contents, 
there  is  nothing  personally  interesting  in  the  men. 
But  what  we  want  to  see  anyone  l>odi/y  for  is 
when  there  is  something  peculiar,  striking  in  the 
individuals,  more  than  we  can  learn  from  their 
writings  and  yet  are  curious  to  know.  I  dare  say 
Locke  and  Newton  were  very  like  Kneller's  portraits 
of  them ;  but  who  could  paint  Shakespeare  ? ' 
'  Ay,'  retorted  Ayrton,  '  there  it  is.  Then  I  sup- 
pose you  would  prefer  seeing  him  and  Milton 
instead  ? '  '  No,'  said  Lamb,  '  neither ;  I  have  seen 
so  much  of  Shakespeare  on  the  stage.'  .  .  .  .  '  I 
shall  guess  no  more,'  said  Ayrton.  '  Who  is  it,  then, 
you  would  hke  to  see  "  in  his  habit  as  he  lived," 
if  you  had  your  choice  of  the  whole  range  of 
English  literature  ? '  Lamb  then  named  Sir 
Thomas  Brown  and  Fulke  Greville,  the  friend  of 
Sir  Philip  Sydney,  as  the  two  worthies  whom  he 
should  feel  the  greatest  pleasure  to  encounter  on 
the    floor   of  his  apartment  in  their  night-gowns 


and  slippers,  and  to  exchange  friendly  greeting  with 
them.  At  this  Ayrton  laughed  outright,  and  con- 
ceived Lamb  was  jesting  with  him  ;  but  as  no  one 
followed  his  example  he  thought  there  might  be 
something  in  it,  and  waited  for  an  explanation  in 
a  state  of  whimsical  suspense 

"  When  Lamb  had  given  his  explanation,  some 
one  inquired  of  him  if  he  could  not  see  from  the 
window  the  Temple  walk  in  which  Chaucer  used 
to  take  his  exercise,  and  on  his  name  being  put 
to  the  vote  I  was  pleased  to  find  there  was  a 
general  sensation  in  his  favour  in  all  but  Ayrton, 
who  said  something  about  the  ruggedness  of  the 
metre,  and  even  objected  to  the  quaintness  of  the 
orthography 

"  Captain  Burney  muttered  something  about 
Columbus,  and  Martin  Burney  hinted  at  the 
Wandering  Jew;  but  the  last  was  set  aside  as 
spurious,  and  the  first  made  over  to  the  New 
World. 

^' '  I  should  like,'  said  Mr.  Reynolds,  '  to  have 
seen  Pope  talking  with  Patty  Blount,  and  I  /lave 
seen  Goldsmith.'  Everyone  turned  round  to  look 
at  Mr.  Reynolds,  as  if  by  so  doing  they  too  could 
get  a  sight  of  Goldsmith 

"  Erasmus  Phillii^s,  who  was  deep  in  a  game  of 
piquet  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  whispered  to 
Martin  Burney  to  ask  if  Junius  would  not  be  a 
fit  person  to  invoke  from  the  dead.  '  Yes,'  said 
Lamb,  *  provided  he  would  agree  to  lay  aside  his 
mask.' 

"  We  were  now  at  a  stand  for  a  short  time,  when 
Fielding  was  mentioned  as  a  candidate.  Only  one, 
however,  seconded  the  proposition.  '  Richard- 
son?' 'By  all  means;  but  only  I0  look  at  him 
through  the  glass -door  of  his  back-shop,  hard  at 
work  upon  one  of  his  novels  (the  most  extraor- 
dinary contrast  that  ever  was  presented  between  an 
author  and  his  works),  but  not  to  let  him  come 
behind  his  counter,  lest  he  should  want  you  to  turn 
customer ;  nor  to  go  upstairs  with  him,  lest  he 
should  offer  to  read  the  first  manuscript  of  "  Sir 
Charles  Grandison,"  which  was  originally  written  in 
twenty-eight  volumes  octavo  ;  or  get  out  the  letters 
of  his  female  correspondents  to  prove  that  "  Joseph 
Andrews  "  was  low.' 

"  There  was  but  one  statesman  in  the  whole  of 
English  history  that  any  one  expressed  the  least 
desire  to  see — Oliver  Cromwell,  with  his  fine,  frank, 
rough,  pimply  tace  and  wily  policy — and  one 
enthusiast,  John  Bunyan,  the  immortal  author  of 
'  The  Pilgrim's  Progress.'  .... 

"  Of  all  persons  near  our  own  time,  Garrick's 
name  was  received  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm. 
He    presently    superseded     both     Hogarth     and 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


THE   DOVE   AND   THE   SERPENT. 


137 


Handel,  who  had  been  talked  of,  but  then  it  was 
on  condition  that  he  should  sit  in  tragedy  and 
comedy,  in  the  play  and  the  farce, — Lear  and 
Wildair,  and  Abel  Drugger 

"  Lamb  inquired  if  there  was  any  one  that  was 
hanged  that  I  would  choose  to  mention,  and  I 
answered,  'Eugene  Aram.'" 

The  present  Hare  Place  was  the  once  dis- 
reputable Ram  Alley,  the  scene  of  a  comedy  of 
that  name,  written  by  Lodowick  Barry  and  drama- 
tised in  the  reign  of  James  I. ;  the  plot  Killigrew 
afterwards  used  in  his  vulgar  Parson's  Wedding. 
Barry,  an  Irishman,  of  whom  nothing  much  is 
known,  makes  one  of  his  roystering  characters  say, — 

"  And  rough  Ram  Alley  stinks  with  cooks'  shops  vile  ; 
Yet,  stay,  there's  many  a  worthy  lawyer's  chamber 
'Buts  upon  Ram  Alley." 

As  a  precinct  of  Whitefriars,  Ram  Alley  en- 
joyed the  mischievous  privilege  of  sanctuary  for 
murderers,  thieves,  and  debtors — indeed,  any  class 
of  rascals  except  traitors — till  the  fifteenth  century. 
After  this  it  sheltered  only  debtors.  Barry 
speaks  of  its  cooks,  salesmen,  and  laundresses ; 
and  Shadwell  classes  it  (Charles  II.)  with  Pye 
Corner,  as  the  resort  of  "rascally  stuff."  Lord 
Clarendon,  in  his  autobiography,  describes  the 
Great  Fire  as  burning  on  the  Thames  side  as  far  as 
the  "  new  buildings  of  the  Inner  Temple  next  to 
Whitefriars,"  striking  next  on  some  of  the  build- 
ings which  joined  to  Ram  Alley,  and  sweeping 
all  those  into  Fleet  Street.  In  the  reign  of 
George  I.  Ram  Alley  was  full  of  public-houses, 
and  was  a  place  of  no  reputation,  having  passages 
into  the  Temple  and  Serjeants'  Inn.  "  A  kind  of 
privileged  place  for  debtors,"  adds  Hatton,  "  before 
the  late  Act  of  Parliament  (9  &  10  William  III. 
c.  17,  s.  15)  for  taking  them  away."  This  useful 
Act  swept  out  all  the  London  sanctuaries,  those 
vicious  relics  of  monastic  rights,  including  Mitre 
Court,  Salisbury  Court  (Fleet  Street),  the  Savoy, 
Fulwood  Rents  (Holborn),  Baldwin's  Gardens 
(Gray's  Inn  Lane),  the  Minories,  Deadman's  Place, 
Montague  Close  (Southwark),  the  Clink,  and  the 
Mint  in  the  same  locality.  The  Savoy  and  the 
Mint,  however,  remained  disreputable  a  generation 
or  two  later 

Serjeants'  Inn,  Fleet  Street,  now  deserted  by  the 
faithless  serjeants,  is  supposed  to  have  been 
given  to  the  Dean  and  Chapter  of  York  in  1409 
(Henry  IV.)  It  then  consisted  of  shops,  &c.  In 
1627  (Charles  I.)  the  inn  began  its  legal  career 
by  being  leased  for  forty  years  to  nine  judges  and 
fifteen  serjeants.  In  this  hall,  in  1629,  the  judges 
in  full  bench  struck  a  sturdy  blow  at  feudal  privi- 


leges by  agreeing  that  peers  might  be  attached 
upon  process  for  contempt  out  of  Chancery.  In 
1723  (George  I.)  the  inn  was  higjily  aristocratic, 
its  inmates  being  the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  the  Lord 
Chief  Baron,  justices,  and  serjeants.  In  1730, 
however,  the  fickle  serjeants  removed  to  Chancery 
Lane,  and  Adam,  the  architect  of  the  Adelphi, 
designed  the  present  nineteen  houses  and  the 
present  street  frontage.  On  the  site  of  the  hall 
arose  the  Amicable  Assurance  Society,  which  in 
1865  transferred  its  business  to  the  Economic,  and 
the  house  is  now  the  Norwich  Union  Office.  The 
inn  is  a  parish  in  itself,  making  its  own  assessment, 
and  contributing  to  the  City  rates.  Its  pavement, 
which  had  been  part  of  the  stonework  of  Old 
St.  Paul's,  was  not  replaced  till  i860.  The  con- 
servative old  inn  retained  its  old  oil  lamps  long 
after  the  introduction  of  gas. 

The  arms  of  Serjeants'  Inn,  worked  into  the 
iron  gate  opening  on  Fleet  Street,  are  a  dove  and  a 
serpent,  the  serpent  twisted  into  a  kind  of  true 
lover's  knot.  The  lawyers  of  Serjeants'  Inn,  no 
doubt,  unite  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent  with  the 
guilelessness  of  the  .dove.  Singularly  enough  Dr. 
Dodd,  the  popular  preacher,  who  was  hanged,  bor^ 
arms  nearly  similar. 

Half  way  down  Bouverie  Street,  in  the  centre  of 
old  Whitefriars,  is  the  office  of  the  Daily  News. 
The  first  number  of  this  popular  and  influential 
paper  appeared  on  January  21,  1846.  The  pub- 
lishers, and  part  proprietors,  were  Messrs.  Brad- 
bury &  Evans,  the  printers  ;  the  editor  Avas  Charles 
Dickens  \  the  manager  was  Dickens's  father,  Mr. 
John  Dickens ;  the  second,  or  assistant,  editor, 
Douglas  Jerrold;  and  among  the  other  "leader" 
writers  were  Albany  Fonblanque  and  John  Forster, 
both  of  the  Examiner.  "  Father  Prout"  (Mahoney) 
acted  as  Roman  correspondent.  The  musical  critic 
was  the  late  Mr.  George  Hogarth,  Dickens's  father- 
in-law  ;  and  the  new  journal  had  an  "  Irish  Famine 
Commissioner  "  in  the  person  of  Mr.  R.  H.  Home, 
the  poet.  Miss  Martineau  wrote  leading  articles  in 
the  new  paper  for  several  years,  and  Mr.  M'CuUagh 
Torrens  was  also  a  recognised  contributor.  The 
staff  of  Parliamentary  reporters  was  said  to  be  the 
best  in  London,  several  having  been  taken,  at  an 
advanced  salary,  off  the  Times. 

"  The  speculative  proprietorship,"  says  Mr. 
Grant,  in  his  "History  of  the  Newspaper  Press," 
was  divided  into  one  hundred  shares,  some  of 
which  were  held  by  Sir  William  Jackson,  M.P., 
Sir  Joshua  Watkins,  and  the  late  Sir  Joseph  Paxton. 
Mr.  Charles  Dickens,  as  editor,  received  a  salary 
of  ^2,000  a  year." 

The    early   numbers   of   the    paper    contained 


138 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


instalments  of  Dickens's  "  Pictures  from  Italy ; " 
yet  the  new  venture  did  not  succeed.  Charles 
Dickens  and  Douglas  Jerrold  took  the  night-work* 
on  alternate  days ;  but  Dickens,  who  never  made 
politics  a  special  study,  very  soon  retired  from 
the  editorship  altogether,  and  Jerrold  was  chief 
editor  for  a  little  while  till  he  left  to  set  up  his 


paper,  was  in  effect  three  halfpence.  One  of  the 
features  of  the  new  plan  was  that  the  sheet 
should  vary  in  size,  according  to  the  requirements 
of  the  day — with  an  eye,  nevertheless,  at  all 
times  to  selection  and  condensation.  It  was  a 
bold  attempt,  carried  out  with  great  intelligence 
and  spirit ;  but  it  was  soon  found  necessary  to  put 


THE   DORSET   GARDENS  THEATRE,    WHITEFRIARS    {see  page   I40). 


Weekly  Newspaper.  Mr.  Forster  also  had  the 
editorship  for  a  short  period,  and  the  paper  then 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  late  Mr.  Dilke,  of  the 
Athen(Bum,\\)\o  excited  some  curiosity  by  extensively 
advertising  these  words  :  "  See  the  Daily  News  of 
June  ist."  The  Daily  Neias  of  June  i,  1846 
(which  began  No.  i  again),  was  a  paper  of  four 
pages,  issued  at  2|^.,  which,  deducting  the  stamp, 
at  that  time  affixed  to  every  copy  of  every  news- 


on  another  halfpenny,  and  in  a  year  or  two  the 
Daily  Netvs  was  obliged  to  return  to  the  usual 
price  of  "  dailies  "  at  that  time — fivepence.  The 
chief  editors  of  the  paper,  besides  those  already 
mentioned,  have  been  Mr.  Eyre  Evans  Crowe, 
Mr.  Frederick  Knight  Hunt,  Mr.  Weir,  and  Mr. 
Thomas  Walker,  who  retired  in  January,  1870,  on 
receiving  the  editorship  of  the  London  Gazette.  The 
journal  came  down  to  a  penny  in  June,  1868. 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


THE  DAILY  NEWS. 


139 


I40 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries^ 


The  Daily  News,  at  the  beginning,  inspired 
the  Ti7nes  wth  some  dread  of  rivalry ;  and  it  is 
noteworthy  that,  for  several  years  afterwards,  the 
great  journal  was  very  unfriendly  in  its  criticisms 
on  Dickens's  books. 

There  is  no  doubt  that,  over  sanguine  of  success, 
the  Daily  Neias  proprietors  began  by  sinking  too 
much  money  in  the  foundations.  In  1846,  the 
Times'  reporters  received  on  an  average  only  five 
guineas  a  week,  while  the  Daily  Neios  gave  seven ; 
but  the  pay  was  soon  of  necessity  reduced.  Mr. 
Grant  computes  the  losses  of  the  Daily  News  for 
the  first  ten  years  at  not  much  less  than  ;^2oo,ooo. 
The  talent  and  enterprise*  of  this  paper,  during  the 
recent  (1870)  German  invasion  of  France,  and  the 
excellence  of  their  correspondents  in  either  camp, 
is  said  to  have  trebled  its  circulation,  which 
Mr.  Grant  computes  at  a  daily  issue  of  90,000. 
As  an  organ  of  the  highest  and  most  enlightened 
form  of  Liberalism  and  progress,  the  Daily  News 
now  stands  pre-eminent. 

Many  actors,  poets,  and  authors  dwelt  in  Salis- 
bury Court  in  Charles  IL's  time,  and  the  great  Bet- 
terton,  Underbill,  and  Sandford  affected  this  neigh- 
bourhood, to  be  near  the  theatres.  Lady  Davenant 
here  presided  over  the  Dorset  Gardens  Company ; 
Shadwell,  "round  as  a  butt  and  liquored  every 
chink,"  nightly  reeled  home  to  the  same  precinct, 
unsteadily  following  the  guidance  of  a  will-o'-the- 
wisp  link -boy ;  and  in  the  square  lived  and  died  Sir 
John  King,  the  Duke  of  York's  solicitor-general. 

If  Salisbury  Square  boasts  of  Richardson,  the 
respectable  citizen  and  admirable  novelist,  it  must 
also  plead  guilty  to  having  been  the  residence  of  that 
not  very  reputable  personage,  Mr.  John  Eyre,  who, 
although  worth,  as  it  was  said,  some  ;!^2  0,000,  was 
transported  on  November  i,  177 1  (George  III.) 
for  systematic  pilfering  of  paper  from  the  alder- 
man's chamber,  ki  the  justice  room,  Guildhall. 
This  man,  led  away  by  the  thirst  for  money,  had 
an  uncle  who  made  two  wills,  one  leaving  Eyre 
all  his  money,  except  a  legacy  of  ;^5oo  to  a 
clergyman ;  another  leaving  the  bulk  to  the  clergy- 
man, and  ^^500  only  to  his  nephew.  Eyre,  not 
knowing  of  the  second  will,  destroyed  the  first,  in 
order  to  cancel  the  vexatious  bequest.  When  the 
real  will  was  produced  his  disappointment  and 
selfish  remorse  must  have  produced  an  expression 
of  repressed  rage  worthy  of  Hogarth's  pencil. 

In  Salisbury  Square  Mr.  Clarke's  disagreeable 
confessions  about  the  Duke  of  York  were  publicly 
burned,  on  the  very  spot  (says  Mr.  Noble)  where 
the  zealous  radical  demagogue,  Waithman,  subse- 
quently addressed  the  people  from  a  temporary 
platform,  not  being   able   to    obtain   the   use   of 


St.  Bride's  Vestry.  Nor  must  we  forget  to  chronicle 
No.  53  as  the  house  of  Tatum,  a  silversmith,  to 
whom,  in  181 2,  that  eminent  man  John  Faraday 
acted  as  humble  friend  and  assistant.  How  often 
does  young  genius  act  the  herdsman,  as  Apollo  did 
when  he  tended  the  kine  of  Admetus  ! 

The  Woodfalls,  too,  in  their  time,  lent  celebrity 
to  Salisbury  Square.  The  first  Woodfall  who 
became  eminent  was  Henry  Woodfall,  at  the 
"  Elzevir's  Head  "  at  Temple  Bar.  He  commenced 
business  under  the  auspices  of  Pope.  His  son 
Henry,  who  rose  to  be  a  Common  Council- 
man and  Master  of  the  Stationers'  Company, 
bought  of  Theophilus  Gibber,  in  1736-37,  one- 
third  of  a  tenth  share  of  the  London  Daily 
Post,  an  organ  which  gradu^ally  grew  into  the 
Public  Advertiser,  that  daring  paper  in  which  the 
celebrated  letters  of  Junius  first  appeared.  Those 
letters,  scathing  and  full  of  Greek  fire,  brought 
down  Lords  and  Commons,  King's  Bench  and  Old 
Bailey,  on  Woodfall,  and  he  was  fined  and  impri- 
soned. Whether  Burke,  Barr^,  Chatham,  Home 
Tooke,  or  Sir  Philip  Francis  wrote  them,  will  now 
probably  never  be  known.  The  stern  writer  in  the 
iron  mask  went  down  into  the  grave  shrouded  in 
his  own  mystery,  and  that  grave  no  inquisitive  eyes 
\n\\  ever  find.  "  I  am  the  sole  depository  of  my 
secret,"  he  wrote,  "  and  it  shall  perish  with  me." 
The  Junius  Woodfall  died  in  1805.  William  Wood- 
fall,  the  younger  brother,  was  born  in  1745,  and 
educated  at  St.  Paul's  School.  He  was  editor  and 
printer  of  the  Morning  Chronicle,  and  in  1 790  had 
his  office  in  Dorset  Street,  Salisbury  Square  (Noble). 
"Memory"  Woodfall,  as  William  was  generally 
called,  acquired  fame  by  his  extraordinary  power  of 
reporting  from  memory  the  speeches  he  heard  in  the 
House  of  Commons.  His  practice  during  a  debate 
(says  his  friend  Mr.  Taylor,  ot  the  Siin)  was  to 
close  his  eyes  and  lean  with  both  hands  upon  his 
stick.  He  was  so  well  acquainted  with  the  tone 
and  manner  of  the  several  speakers  that  he  seldom 
changed  his  attitude  but  to  catch  the  name  of  a 
new  member.  His  memory  was  as  accurate  as 
it  was  capacious,  and,  what  was  almost  miraculous, 
he  could  retain  full  recollection  of  any  particular 
debate  for  a  full  fortnight,  and  after  many  long 
nights  of  speaking.  Woodfall  used  to  say  he  could 
put  a  speech  away  on  a  corner  shelf  of  his 
mind  for  future  reference.  This  is  an  instance  of 
power  of  memory  scarcely  equalled  by  Fuller,  who, 
it  is  said,  could  repeat  the  names  of  all  the  shops 
down  the  Strand  (at  a  time  every  shop  had  a  sign) 
in  regular  and  correct  sequence ;  and  it  even  sur- 
passes "Memory"  Thompson,  who  used  to  boast  he 
could   remember  every  shop    from    Ludgate  Hill 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


MUG-HOUSES. 


ll'^T.- 


to  the  end  of  Piccadilly.  Yet,  with  all  his  sensitively 
retentive  memory,  Woodfall  did  not  care  for  sUght 
interruptions  during  his  writing.  Dr.  Johnson 
used  to  write  abridged  reports  of  debates  for  the 
Gmtlemaiis  Magazine  from  memory,  but,  then, 
reports  at  that  time  were  short  and  trivial.  Wood- 
fall  was  also  a  most  excellent  dramatic  critic — 
slow  to  censure,  yet  never  sparing  just  rebuke. 
At  the  theatre  his  extreme  attention  gave  his  coun- 
tenance a  look  of  gloom  and  severity.  Mr.  J. 
Taylor,  of  the  Sun,  describes  Kemble  as  watching 
Woodfall  in  one  of  those  serious  moods,  and  say- 
ing to  a  friend,  "  How  applicable  to  that  man  is 
the  passage  in  Hamlet, — '  thoughts  black,  hands 
apt.'" 

Finding  himself  hampered  on  the  Mo7'ning 
Chronicle,  Woodfall  started  a  new  daily  paper, 
with  the  title  of  the  Diary,  but  eventually  ^he  was 
overpowered  by  his  competitors  and  their  large 
staff  of  reporters.  His  eldest  son,  who  displayed 
great  abilities,  went  mad.  Mr.  Woodfall's  hospit- 
able parties  at  his  house  at  Kentish  Town  are 
sketched  for  us  by  Mr,  J.  Taylor.  On  one  parti- 
cular occasion  he  mentions  meeting  Mr.  Tickel, 
Richardson  (a  partner  in  "  The  RoUiad "),  John 
Kemble,  Perry  (of  the  Chronicle),  Dr.  Glover  (a 
humorist  of  the  day),  and  John  Const.'  Kemble 
and  Perry  fell  out  over  their  wine,  and  Perry  was 
rude  to  the  stately  tragedian.  Kemble,  eyeing 
him  with  the  scorn  of  Coriolanus,  exclaimed,  in  the 
words  of  Zanga, — 

"  A  lion  preys  not  upon  carcases." 

Perry  very  naturally  effervesced  at  this,  and  war 
would  have  been  instantly  proclaimed  between  the 
belligerents  had  not  Cou:tj  and  Richardson 
promptly  interposed.  The  warlike  powers  were 
carefully  sent  home  in  separate  vehicles. 

Mr.  Woodfall  had  a  high  sense  of  the  importance 
of  a  Parliamentary  reporter's  duties,  and  orice, 
during  a  heavy  week,  when  his  eldest  son  came 
to  town  to  assist  him,  he  said,  "  And  Charles  Fox 
to  have  a  debate  on  a  Saturday  !  What !  does  he 
think  that  reporters  are  made  of  iron  ?  "  Woodfall 
used  to  tell  a  characteristic  story  of  Dr.  Dodd. 
When  that  miserable  man  was  in  Newgate  wait- 
ing sentence  of  death  he  sent  earnestly  for 
the  editor  of  the  Morning  Chronicle.  Woodfall,  a 
kind  and  unselfish  man,  instantly  hurried  off,  ex- 
pecting that  Dodd  wished  his  serious  advice.  In 
the  midst  of  Woodfall's  condolement  he  was  stopped 
by  the  Doctor,  who  said  he  had  wished  to  see  him 
on  quite  a  different  subject.  Knowing  Woodfall's 
judgment  in  dramatic  matters,  he  was  anxious  to 
have  his  opinion    on   a  comedy  which  he   had 


written,  and  to  request  his  interest  with  a  manager 
to  bring  it  on  the  stage.  Woodfall  was  the  more 
surprised  and  shocked  as  on  entering  Newgate  i.c 
had  been  informed  by  Ackerman,  the  keeper  of  ■ 
Newgate,  that  the  order  for  Dr.  Dodd's  execution 
had  just  arrived. 

Before  parting  with  the  Woodfall  .family,  we  may 
mention  that  it  is  quite  certain  that  Henry  Samp- 
son Woodfall  did  not  know  who  the  author  of 
"Junius"  was.  Long  after  the  letters  appeared 
he  used  to  say, — "  I  hope  and  trust  Junius  is  not 
dead,  as  I  think  he  would  have  left  me  a  legacy ; 
for  though  I  derived  much  honour  from  his 
preference,  I  suffered  much  by  the  freedom  of  his 
pen." 

The  grandson  of  William,  Henry  Dick  Wood- 
fall,  died  in  Nice,  April  13,  1869,  aged  sixty-nine, 
carrying  to  the  grave  (says  Mr.  Noble)  the  last 
chance  of  discovering  one  of  the  best  kept  secrets 
ever  known. 

The  Whig  "mtig-house"  of  Salisbury  Court  de- 
serves notice.  The  death  of  Queen  Anne  (17 14) 
roused  the  hopes  of  the  Jacobites.  The  rebellion 
of  1715  proved  how  bitterly  they  felt  the  peaceful 
accession  of  the  Elector  of  Hanover.  The  northern 
revolt  convinced  them  of  their  strength,  but  its  failure 
taught  them  no  lesson.  They  attributed  its  want 
of  success  to  the  rashness  of  the  leaders  and  the 
absence  of  unanimity  in  their  followers,  to  the  out- 
break not  being  simultaneous ;  to  every  cause, 
indeed,  but  the  right  one.  It  was  about  this  time 
that  the  Whig  gentlemen  of  London,  to  unite  their 
party  and  to  organise  places  of  gathering,  esta- 
blished "  mug-houses  "  in  various  parts  of  the  City. 
At  these  places,  "  free-and-easy "  clubs  were  held, 
where  Whig  citizens  could  take  their  mug  of  ale, 
drink  loyal  toasts,  sing  loyal  songs,  and  arrange 
party  processions.  These  assemblies,  not  always 
very  just  or  forbearing,  soon  led  to  violent  re- 
taliations on  the  part  of  the  Tories,  attacks  were 
made  on  sweral  of  the  mug-houses,  •  and  dan- 
gerous riots  naturally  ensued.  From  the  papers  of 
the  time  we  learn  that  the  Tories  wore  white  roses, 
or  rue,  thyme,  and  rosemary  in  their  hats,  flourished 
oak  branches  and  green  ribbons,  and  shouted 
"High  Church;"  " Ormond  for  ever;"  "No 
King  George;"  "Down  with  the  Presbyterians;" 
"Down  with  the  mug-houses."  The  Whigs,  on 
the  other  side,  roared  "  King  George  for  ever,'* 
displayed  orange  cockades,  with  the  motto, — 

"  With  heart  and  hand 
By  George  we'll  stand," 

and  did  their  best  on  royal  birthdays  and  other 
thanksgivings,  by  illuminations  and  blazing  bonfires 


142 


OLD   AND    NEW   LONDON. 
r 


[Fleet  Street  Trikutaries. 


outside  the  mug-house  doors,  to  irritate  their  adver- 
saries and  drive  them  to  acts  of  illegal  violence. 
The  chief  Whig  mug-houses  were  in  Long  Acre, 
Cheapside,  St.  John's  Lane  (Clerkenwell),  Tower 
Street,  and  Salisbury  Court. 

Mackey,  a  traveller,  who  wrote  *'A  Journey 
through  England"  about  this  time,  describes  the 
mug-houses  very  lucidly  : — 

"The  most  amusing  and  diverting  of  all,"  he 
says,  "  is  the  *  Mug-House  Club,'  in  Long  Acre, 
Avhere  every  Wednesday  and  Saturday  a  mixture  of 
gentlemen,  lawyers,  and  tradesmen  meet  in  a  great 
room,  and  are  seldom  under  a  hundred.  They 
have  a  grave  old  gentleman  in  his  own  grey  hairs, 
now  within  a  few  months  of  ninety  years  old,  who 
13  their  president,  and  sits  in  an  armed-chair  some 
steps  higher  than  the  rest  of  the  company,  to  keep 
the  whole  room  in  order.  A  harp  always  plays  all 
the  time  at  the  lower  end  of  the  room,  and  every 
now  and  then  one  or  other  of  the  company  rises 
and  entertains  the  rest  with  a  song;  and,  by-the-by, 
some  are  good  masters.  Here  is  nothing  drank 
but  ale;  and  every  gentleman  hath  his  separate 
mug,  which  he  chalks  on  the  table  where  he  sits 
as  it  is  brought  in,  and  everyone  retires  when  he 
pleases,  as  in  a  coftee-house.  The  room  is  always  so 
diverted  with  songs,  and  drinking  from  one  table 
to  another  to  one  another's  healths,  that  there  is  no 
room  for  politics,  or  anything  that  can  sour  con- 
versation. One  must  be  up  by  seven  to  get  room, 
and  after  ten  the  company  are,  for  the  most  part, 
gone.  This  is  a  winter's  amusement  that  is  agree- 
able enough  to  a  stranger  for  once  or  twice,  and 
he  is  well  diverted  with  the  different  humours  when 
the  mugs  overflow." 
•  An  attack  on  a  Whig  mug-house,  the  "  Roebuck," 
in  Cheapside,  June,  17 16,  was  followed  by  a  still 
more  stormy  assault  on  the  Salisbury  Court  mug- 
house  in  July  of  the  same  year.  The  riot  began  on 
a  Friday,  but  the  Whigs  kept  a  resolute  face,  and  the 
mob  dwindled  away.  On  the  Monday0iey  renewed 
the  attack,  declaring  that  the  Whigs  were  drinking 
"Down  with  the  Church," and  reviling  the  memory 
of  Queen  Anne  ;  and  they  swore  they  would  level 
the  house  and  make  a  bonfire  of  the  timber  in  the 
middle  of  Fleet  Street  But  the  wily  Whigs,  barri- 
cading the  door,  slipped  out  a  messenger  at  a  back 
door,  and  sent  to  a  mug-house  in  Tavistock  Street, 
Covent  Garden,  for  reinforcements.  Presently  a 
band  of  Whig  bludgeon-mcn  arrived,  and  the  Whigs 
of  Salisbury  Court  then  snatched  up  pokers,  tongs, 
pitchforks,  and  legs  of  stools,  and  sallied  out  on 
the  Tory  mob,  who  soon  fled  before  them.  For 
two  days  the  Tory  mob  seethed,  fretted,  and 
swore  revenge.     But  the  report  of  a  so'jadron  of 


horse  being  drawn  up  at  Whitehall  ready  to  ride 
down  on  the  City  kept  them  gloomily  quiet.  On 
the  third  day  a  Jacobite,  named  Vaughan,  formerly 
a  Bridewell  boy,  led  them  on  to  revenge ;  and  on 
Tuesday  they  stormed  the  place  in  earnest.  '*  The 
best  of  the  Tory  mob,"  says  a  Whig  paper  of  the 
day,  "  were  High  Church  scaramouches,  chimney- 
sweeps, hackney  coachmen,  foot-boys,  tinkers,  shoe- 
blacks, street  idlers,  ballad  singers,  and  strumpets." 
The  contemporaneous  account  will  most  vividly 
describe  the  scene. 

The  Weck/y  Journal  (a  Whig  paper)  of  July  28, 
1 7 16,  says:  "The  Papists  and  Jacobites,  in  pur- 
suance of  their  rebellious  designs,  assembled  a 
mob  on  Friday  night  last,  and  threatened  to  attack 
Mr.  Read's  mug-house  in  Salisbury  Court,  in  Fleet 
Street ;  but,  seeing  the  loyal  gentlemen  that  were 
there  were  resolved  to  defend  themselves,  the 
cowardly  Papists  and  Jacobites  desisted  for  that 
time.  But  on  Monday  night  the  villains  meeting 
together  again  in  a  most  rebellious  manner,  they 
began  first  to  attack  Mr.  Goslings  house,  at  the  sign 
of  the  '  Blew  Boar's  Head,'  near  Water  Lane,  in 
Fleet  Street,  breaking  the  windows  thereof,  for  no 
other  reason  but  because  he  is  well-afiected  to  his 
Majesty  King  George  and  the  present  Government. 
Afterwards  they  went  to  the  above-said  mug-house 
in  Salisbury  Court;  but  the  cowardly  Jacks  not 
being  able  to  accomplish  their  hellish  designs  that 
night,  they  assembled  next  day  in  great  numbers 
from  all  parts  of  the  town,  breaking  the  windows 
with  brick-bats,  broke  open  the  cellar,  got  into  the 
lower  rooms,  which  they  robb'd,  and  pull'd  down 
the  sign,  which  was  carried  in  triumph  before  the 
mob  by  one  Thomas  Bean,  servant  to  Mr. 
Carnegie  and  Mr.  Cassey,  two  rebels  under  sen- 
tence of  death,  and  for  which  he  is  committed  to 
Newgate,  as  well  as  several  others,  particularly  one 
Hook,  a  joyner,  in  Blackfriars,  who  is  charged  with 
acting  a  part  in  gutting  the  mug-house.  Some  of 
the  rioters  were  desperately  wounded,  and  one 
Vaughan,  a  seditious  weaver,  formerly  an  appren- 
tice in  Bridewell,  and  since  employed  there,  who 
was  a  notorious  ringleader  of  mobs,  was  kill'd  at 
the  aforesaid  mug-house.  Many  notorious  Papists 
were  seen  to  abet  and  assist  in  this  villanous 
rabble,  as  were  others,  who  call  themselves  Church- 
men, and  are  like  to  meet  with  a  suitable  reward  in 
due  time  for  their  assaulting  gentlemen  who  meet 
at  these  mug-houses  only  to  drink  prosperity  to  the 
Church  of  England  as  by  law  established,  the 
King's  health,  the  Prince  of  Wales's,  and  the  rest  of 
the  Royal  Family,  and  those  of  his  faithful  and 
loyal  Ministers.  But  it  is  farther  to  be  observed 
that  women  of  mean,  scandalous  lives,  do  frequently 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


RICHARDSON   IN   HIS  OFFICE. 


143' 


point,  hiss,  and  cry  out  '  Whigs '  upon  his  Majesty's 
good  and  loyal  subjects,  by  which,  raising  a  mob, 
they  are  often  insulted  by  them.  But  'tis  hoped 
the  magistrates  will  take  such  methods  which  may 
prevent  the  like  insults  for  the  future. 

"  Thursday  last  the  coroner's  inquest  sat  on  the 
body  of  the  person  killed  in  Salisbury  Court, 
who  were  for  bringing  in  their  verdict,  wilful 
murder  against  Mr.  Read,  the  man  of  the  mug- 
house  ;  but  some  of  the  jury  stick  out,  and  will 
not  agree  with  that  verdict ;  so  that  the  matter  is 
deferr'd  till  Monday  next." 

"On  Tuesday  last,"  says  the  same  paper 
(August  4,  17 16),  "a  petition,  signed  by  some  of 
the  inhabitants  of  Salisbury  Court,  was  deliver'd 
to  the  Court  of  Aldermen,  setting  forth  some  late 
riots  occasioned  by  the  meeting  of  some  persons 
at  the  mug-house  there.  The  petition  was  referred 
to,  and  a  hearing  appointed  the  same  day  before 
the  Lord  Mayor.  The  witnesses  on  the  side  of 
the  petition  were  a  butcher  woman,  a  barber's 
'prentice,  and  two  or  three  other  inferior  people. 
These  swore,  in  substance — that  the  day  the  man 
was  killed  there,  they  saw  a  great  many  people 
gathered  together  about  the  mug-house,  throwing 
stones  and  dirt,  &c. ;  that  about  twelve  o'clock 
they  saw  Mr.  Read  come  out  with  a  gun,  and  shoot 
a  man  who  was  before  the  mob  at  some  distance, 
and  had  no  stick  in  his  hand.  Those  who  were 
call'd  in  Mr.  Read's  behalf  depos'd  that  a  very 
great  mob  attacked  the  house,  crying,  '  High 
Church  and  Ormond ;  No  Hanover ;  No  King 
George ; '  that  then  the  constable  read  the  Pro- 
clamation, charging  them  to  disperse,  but  they 
still  continued  to  cry,  '  Down  with  the  mug-house  ;' 
that  two  soldiers  then  issued  out  of  the  house,  and 
drove  the  mob  into  Fleet  Street ;  but  by  throwing 
sticks  and  stones,  they  drove  these  two  back  to 
the  house,  and  the  person  shot  returned  at  the 
head  of  the  mob  with  a  stick  in  his  hand  flourish- 
ing, and  crying,  '  No  Hanover ;  No  King  George ;' 
and  '  Down  with  the  mug-house.'  That  then  Mr. 
Read  desired  them  to  disperse,  or  he  would  shoot 
amongst  them,  and  the  deceased  making  at  him, 
be  shot  him  and  retired  indoors  ;  that  then  the 
mob  forced  into  the  house,  rifled  all  below  stairs, 
took  the  money  out  of  the  till,  let  the  beer  about 
the  cellar,  and  what  goods  they  could  not  carry 
away,  they  brought  into  the  streets  and  broke  to 
pieces ;  that  they  would  have  forced  their  way 
up  stairs  and  murdered  all  in  the  house,  but  that 
a  person  who  lodged  in  the  house  made  a  barricade 
at  the  stair-head,  where  he  defended  himself  above 
half  an  hour  against  all  the  mob,  wounded  some 
of  them,  and  compelled  them  to  give  over  the 


assault.  There  were  several  very  credible  witnessfcs 
to  these  circumstances,  and  many  more  were  ready 
to  have  confirmed  it,  but  the  Lord  Mayor  thought 
sufficient  had  been  said,  and  the  following  gentle- 
men, who  are  men  of  undoubted  reputation  and 
worth,  offering  to  be  bail  for  Mr.  Read,  namely, 
Mr.  Johnson,  a  justice  of  the  peace,  and  Colonels 
Coote  and  Westall,  they  were  accepted,  and  accord- 
ingly entered  into  a  recognisance." 

Five  of  the  rioters  were  eventually  hung  at  Tyburn 
Turnpike,  in  the  presence  of  a  vast  crowd.  Accord- 
ing to  Mr.  J.  T.  Smith,  in  his  "Streets  of  London," 
a  Whig  mug-house  existed  as  early  as  1694.  It  has 
been  said  the  slang  word  "  mug"  OAves  its  derivation 
to  Lord  Shaftesbury's  "  ugly  mug,"  which  the  beer 
cups  were  moulded  to  resemble. 

In  the  Flying  Post  of  June  30,  17 16,  we  find  a 
doggerel  old  mug-liouse  ballad,  which  is  so  cha- 
racteristic of  the  violence  of  the  times  that  it  is 
worth  preserving : — 

"  Since  the  Tories  could  not  fight, 

And  their  master  took  his  flight, 
They  labour  to  keep  up  their  faction ; 

With  a  bough  and  a  stick, 

And  a  stone  and  a  brick, 
They  equip  their  roaring  crew  for  action. 

"  Thus  in  battle  arraj* 

At  the  close  of  the  day, 
After  wisely  debating  their  deep  plot. 

Upon  windows  and  stall. 

They  courageously  fall. 
And  boast  a  great  victory  they  have  got. 

"  But,  alas  I  silly  boys, 

For  all  the  mighty  noise, 
(:)f  their  'High  Church  and  Ormond  for  ever,' 

A  brave  Whig  with  one  hand, 

At  George's  command. 
Can  make  their  mightiest  hero  to  quiver." 

Richardson's  printing  office  was  at  the  north- 
west corner  of  Salisbury  Square,  communicating 
with  the  court.  No.  76,  Fleet  Street.  Here  the 
thoughtful  old  citizen  wrote  "Pamela,"  and  here, 
in  1756,  Oliver  Goldsmith  acted  as  his  "reader." 
Richardson  seems  to  have  been  an  amiable  and 
benevolent  man,  kind  to  his  compositors  and  ser- 
vants and  beloved  by  children.  All  the  anecdotes 
relating  to  his  private  life  are  pleasant.  He  used 
to  encourage  early  rising  among  his  workmen  by 
hiding  half  crowns  among  the  disordered  type,  so 
that  the  earliest  comer  might  find  his  virtue  re- 
warded ;  and  he  would  frequently  bring  up  fruit 
from  the  country  to  give  to  those  of  his  servants 
who  had  been  zealous  and  good-tempered.  ( 

Samuel  Richardson,  the  author  of  "  Pamela"  and 
"Clarissa,"  was  the  son  of  a  Derbyshire  joiner.  He 
was  born  in  1689,  and  died  in  1761,     Apprenticed 


144 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


to  a  London  printer,  he  rose  by  steady  industry 
and  prudence  to  be  the  manager  of  a  large 
business,  printer  of  the  Journals  of  the  House  of 
Commons,  Master  of  the  Stationers'  Company,  and 
part-printer  to  the  king.  In  1741,  at  the  age  of 
fifty-two,  publishers  urging  the  thriving  citizen  to 
write  them  a  book  of  moral  letters,  Richardson 
produced  "Pamela,"  a  novel  which  ran  through 
five  editions  the  first  year,  and  became  the  rage  of 
the  town.     Ladies  carried  the  precious  volumes  to 


from  the  foolish  romances  of  his  day.  In  "  Pamela" 
he  rewarded  struggling  virtue  ;  in  "  Clarissa  "  he 
painted  the  cruel  selfishness  of  vice;  in  "Sir 
Charles  "  he  t;ried  to  represent  the  perfect  Christian 
gentleman.  Coleridge  said  that  to  read  Fielding 
after  Richardson  was  like  emerging  from  a  sick 
room,  heated  by  stoves,  into  an  open  lawn  on  a 
breezy  May  morning.  Richardson,  indeed,  ■svrote 
more  for  women  than  men.  Fielding  was  coarser, 
but  more,  manly  ;  he  had  humour,  but  no  moral 


FLIiET  STREET,  THE  TE.MPLE,  ETC.,  FROM   A   PLAN    PUBLISHED   BY   KALFH  AUGAS,   I563. 


Ranelagh,  and  held  them  up  in  smiling  triumph 
to  each  other.  Pope  praised  the  novel  as  more 
useful  than  twenty  volumes  of  sermons,  and  Dr. 
Sherlock  gravely  recommended  it  from  the  pulpit. 
In  1749  Richardson. Avrote  "Clarissa  Harlowe,"  his 
•most  perfect  work, and  in  1 753  his  somewhat  tedious 
"Sir  Charles  Grandison"  (7  vols.)  In  "Pamela" 
he  drew  a  servant,  whom  her  master  attempts  to 
seduce  and  eventually  marries,  but  in  "  Clarissa  " 
the  heroine,  after  harrowing  misfortunes,  dies  un- 
rewarded. Richardson  had  always  a  moral  end  in 
view.  He  hated  vice  and  honoured  virtue,  but 
he  is  too  often  prolix  and  wearisome.  He 
wished  to  write  novels  that  should  wean  the  young 


purpose  at  all.  The  natural  result  was  that  Fielding 
and  his  set  looked  on  Richardson  as  a  grave,  dull, 
respectable  old  prig  ;  Richardson  on  Fielding  as  a 
low  rake,  who  wrote  like  a  man  who  had  been  an 
ostler  bom  in  a  stable,  or  a  runner  in  a  sponging- 
house.  "The  virtues  of  Fielding's  heroes,"  the 
vain  old  printer  used  to  say  to  his  feminine  clique, 
"are  the  vices  of  a  truly  good  man." 

Dr.  Johnson,  who  had  been  befriended  by 
Richardson,  was  never  tired  of  depreciating  Fielding 
and  crying  up  the  author  of  "  Pamela."  "  Sir,"  he 
used  to  thunder  out,  "  there  is  as  much  difference 
between  the  two  as  between  a  man  who  knows 
hoW^a  watch  is  made  and  a  man  who  can  merely 


Fleet  Street  Tributaries.] 


JOHNSON  AND   HOGARTH. 


145 


tell  the  hour  on  the  dial-plate."  He  called  Fielding  1 
a  "  barren  rascal."  "  Sir,  there  is  more  know- 
ledge of  the  heart  in  one  letter  of  Richardson's 
than  in  all  'Tom  Jones.'"  Some  one  present  here 
mildly  suggested  that  Richardson  was  very  tedious. 
"Why,  sir,"  replied  Johnson,  "if  you  were  to 
read  Richardson  for  the  story,  your  impatience 
would  be  so  great  that  you  would  hang  yourself. 
But  you  must  read  him  for  the  sentiment,  and 
consider  the  story  as  only  giving  occasion  to  the 


partisan  of  George  H.,  he  observed  to  Richard- 
son that  certainly  there  must  have  been  some 
very  unfavourable  circumstances  lately  discovered 
in  this  particular  case  which  had  induced  the 
king  to  approve  of  an  execution  for  rebellion  so 
long  after  the  time  it  was  committed,  as  this  had  the 
appearance  of  putting  a  man  to  death  in  cold  blood, 
and  was  very  unlike  his  majesty's  usual  clemency. 
While  he  was  talking,  he  perceived  a  person  stand- 
ing at  a  window  in  the   room  shaking  his  head 


FLEET   STREET,    THE  TEMPLE,    ETC.,    FROM    A   MAP   OF    LONDON,    PUBLISHED    172O. 


sentiment."  After  all,  it  must  be  considered  that, 
old-fashioned  as  Richardson's  novels  have  now 
become,  the  old  printer  dissected  the  human  heart 
with  profound  knowledge  and  exquisite  care,  and 
that  in  the  back  shop  in  Salisbury  Court,  amid  the 
jar  of  printing-presses,  the  quiet  old  citizen  drew 
his  ideal  beings  with  far  subtler  lines  and  touches 
than  any  previous  novelist  had  done. 

On  one  occasion  at  least  Hogarth  and  Johnson 
met  at  Richardson's  house. 

"  Mr.  Hogarth,"  says  Nichols,  "  came  one  day 

to  see  Richardson,  soon  after    the   execution   of 

Dr.   Cameron,   for   having    taken    arms    for    the 

house  of  Stuart  in  1745-46;  and,  being  a  warm 

13 


and  rolling  himself  about  in  a  ridiculous  manner. 
He  concluded  he  was  an  idiot,  whom  his  relations 
had  put  under  the  care  of  Mr.  Richardson  as  a  very 
good  man.  To  his  great  surprise,  however,  this 
figure  stalked  forward  to  where  he  and  Mr. 
Richardson  were  sitting,  and  all  at  once  took  up 
the  argument,  and  burst  out  into  an  invective 
against  George  II.,  as  one  who,  upon  all 
occasions,  was  unrelenting  and  barbarous;  men- 
tioning many  instances,  particularly  that,  where 
an  officer  of  high  rank  had  been  acquitted  by 
a  court  martial,  George  II.  had,  with  his  own 
hand,  struck  his  name  off  the  list.  In  short, 
he    displayed    such   a   power   of  eloquence   that 


146 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Fleet  Street  Tributaries. 


Hogarth  looked  at  him  in  astonishment,  and 
actually  imagined  that  this  idiot  had  been  at  the 
moment  inspired.  Neither  Johnson  nor  Hogarth 
were  made  known  to  each  other  at  this  interview." 

Boswell  tells  a  good  story  of  a  rebuke  that 
Richardson's  amiable  but  inordinate  egotism 
on  one  occasion  received,  much  to  Johnson's 
secret  delight,  which  is  certainly  worth  quoting 
before  we  dismiss  the  old  printer  altogether. 
"  One  day,"  says,  Boswell  "  at  his  country  house 
at  Northend,  where  a  large  company  was  assem- 
bled at  dinner,  a  gentleman  who  was  just  re- 
turned from  Paris,  wishing  to  please  Richardson, 
mentioned  to  him  a  flattering  circumstance,  that  he 
had  seen  his  '  Clarissa '  lying  on  the  king's  brother's 
table.  Richardson  observing  that  part  of  the  com- 
pany were  engaged  in  talking  to  each  other,  affected 
then  not  to  attend  to  it ;  but  by  and  bye,  when 
there  was  a  general  silence,  and  he  thought  that 
the  flattery  might  be  fully  heard,  he  addressed  him- 
self to  the  gentleman  :  *  I  think,  sir,  you  were 
saying  somewhat  about ' — pausing  in  a  high  flutter 
of  expectation.  The  gentleman  provoked  at  his 
inordinate  vanity  resolved  not  to  indulge  it,  and 
with  an  exquisitely  sly  air  of  indifference  answered, 
*  A  mere  trifle,  sir  ;  not  worth  repeating.'  The 
mortification  of  Richardson  was  visible,  and  he 
did  not  speak  ten  words  more  the  whole  day. 
Dr.  Johnson  was  present,  and  appeared  to  enjoy 
it  much." 

At  one  corner  of  Salisbury  Square  (says  Mr. 
Timbs)  are  the  premises  of  Peacock,  Bampton, 
&  Mansfield,  the  famous  pocket-book  makers, 
whose  "Polite  Repository"  for  1778  is  "the 
patriarch  of  all  pocket-books."  Its  picturesque 
engravings  have  never  been  surpassed,  and  their 
morocco  and  russia  bindings  scarcely  equalled. 
In  our  time  Queen  Adelaide  and  her  several  maids 
of  honour  used  the  "  Repository."  George  IV. 
was  provided  by  the  firm  with  a  ten-guinea  house- 
wife (an  antique-looking  pocket-book,  with  gold- 
mounted  scissors,  tweezers,  &c.) ;  and  Mr.  Mans- 
field relates  that  on  one  occasion  the  king  took 
his  housewife  from  his  pocket  and  handed  it 
round  the  table  to  his  guests,  and  next  day  the 
firm  received  orders  for  twenty-five,  "just  like  the 
king's." 

In  St.  Bride's  Passage,  westward  (says  Mr. 
Timbs),  was  a  large  dining-house,  where,  some  forty 
years  ago,  Colton,  the .  author,  used  to  dine,  and 
publicly  boast  that  he  wrote  the  whole  of"  his 
"  Lacon  ;  or,  Many  Things  in  Few  Words,"  upon 
a  small  rickety  deal  table,  with  one  pen.  Another 
frequenter  of  this  place  was  one  Webb,  who  seems 
to  have  been  so  well  up  in  the  topics  of  the  day 


that  he  was  a  sort  of  walking  newspaper,  who  was 
much  with  the  King  and  Queen  of  the  Sandwich 
Islands  when  they  visited  England  in  1825. 

This  Caleb  Colton,  mentioned  by  Mr.  Timbs, 
was  that  most  degraded  being,  a  disreputable 
clergyman,  with  all  the  vices  but  little  of  the 
genius  of  Churchill,  and  had  been,  in  his  flourishing 
time,  vicar  of  Kew  and  Petersham.  He  was  edu- 
cated at  Eton,  and  eventually  became  Fellow  of 
King's  College,  Cambridge.  He  wrote  "A  Plain 
and  Authentic  Narrative  of  the  Stamford  Ghost," 
"  Remarks  on  the  Tendencies  of  '  Don  Juan,' "  a 
poem  on  Napoleon,  and  a  satire  entitled  "  Hypo- 
crisy." His  best  known  work,  however,  was 
"  Lacon  ;  or.  Many  Things  in  Few  Words,"  pub- 
lished in  1820.  These  aphorisms  want  the  terse 
brevity  of  Rochefoucauld,  and  are  in  many 
instances  vapid  and  trivial.  A  passion  for  gaming  at 
last  swallowed  up  Colton's  otiier  vices,  and  becom- 
ing involved,  he  cut  the  Gordian  knot  of  debt  in 
1828  by  absconding;  his  living  was  then  seized 
and  given  to  another.  He  fled  to  America,  and 
from  there  returned  to  that  syren  city,  Paris, 
where  he  is  said  in  two  years  to  have  won  no 
less  than  ;^2 5,000.  The  miserable  man  died  by 
his  own  hand  at  Fontainebleau,  in  1832.  In  the 
"Lacon"  is  the  subjoined  passage,  that  seems 
almost  prophetic  of  the  miserable  author's  mise- 
rable fate  : — 

"  The  gamester,  if  he  die  a  martyr  to  his  pro- 
fession, is  doubly  ruined.  He  adds  his  soul  to 
every  loss,  and  by  the  act  of  suicide  renounces 
earth  to  forfeit  heaven."  .  .  .  .  "  Anguish  of 
mind  has  driven  thousands  to  suicide,  anguish  of 
body  none.  This  proves  that  the  health  of  the 
mind  is  of  far  more  consequence  to  our  happiness 
than  the  health  of  the  body,  although  both  are 
deserving  of  much  more  attention  than  either  of 
them  receive." 

And  here  is  a  fine  sentiment,  worthy  of  Dr. 
Dodd  himself: — 

"There  is  but  one  pursuit  in  life  which  it  is 
in  the  power  of  all  to  follow  and  of  all  to  attain. 
It  is  subject  to  no  disappointments,  since  he  that 
perseveres  makes  every  difficulty  an  advancement 
and  every  contest  a  victory — and  this  the  pursuit 
of  virtue.  Sincerely  to  aspire  after  virtue  is  to  gain 
her,  and  zealously  to  labour  after  her  wages  is  to 
receive  them.  Those  that  seek  her  early  will  find 
her  before  it  is  late  ;  her  reward  also  is  with  her, 
and  she  will  come  quickly.  For  the  breast  of  a 
good  man  is  a  little  heaven  commencing  on  earth, 
where  the  Deity  sits  enthroned  with  unrivalled 
influence,  every  subjugated  passion,  '  like  the  wind 
and  storm,  fulfilling  his  word.'" 


The  Temple.] 


THE   KNIGHTS  TEMPLARS. 


147 


CHAPTER      XIII, 


THE    TEMPLE.— GENERAL   INTRODUCTION. 


Origin  of  the  Order  of  Templars — First  Home  of  the  Older— Removal  to  the  Banks  of  the  Thames— Rules  of  the  Order— The  Templars  at  the 
Crusades,  and  their  Deeds  of  Valour — Decay  and  Corruption  of  the  Order — Charges  brought  against  the  Knights — Abolition  of  the  Order. 


The  Order  of  Knights  Templars,  established  by 
Baldwin,  King  of  Jerusalem,  in  1118,  to  protect 
Christian  pilgrims  on  their  road  to  Jerusalem,  first 
found  a  home  in  England  in  11 28  (Henry  I.), 
when  Hugh  de  Payens,  the  first  Master  of  the 
Order,  visited  our  shores  to  obtain  succours  and 
subsidies  against  the  Infidel. 

The  proud,  and  at  first  zealous,  brotherhood  ori- 
ginally settled  on  the  south  side  of  Holborn,  with- 
out the  Bars.  Indeed,  about  a  century  and  a  half 
ago,  part  of  a  round  chapel,  built  of  Caen  stone,  was 
found  under  the  foundation  of  some  old  houses  at 
the  Holborn  end  of  Southampton  Buildings.  In 
time,  however,  the  Order  amassed  riches,  and,  grow- 
ing ambitious,  purchased  a  large  space  of  ground 
extending  from  Fleet  Street  to  the  river,  and  from 
Whitefriars  to  Essex  House  in  the  Strand.  The  new 
Temple  was  a  vast  monastery,  fitted  for  the  resi- 
dence of  the  prior,  his  chaplain,  serving  brethren 
and  knights;  and  it  boasted  a  council-chamber,  a 
refectory,  a  barrack,  a  church,  a  range  of  cloisters, 
and  a  river  terrace  for  religious  meditation,  military 
exercise,  and  the  training  of  chargers.  In  1185 
Heraclius,  the  Patriarch  of  Jerusalem,  who  had  come 
to  England  with  the  Masters  of  the  Temple  and  the 
Hospital  to  procure  help  from  Henry  II.  against 
the  victorious  Saladin,  consecrated  the  beautiful 
river-side  church,  which  the  proud  Order  had  dedi- 
cated to  the  Virgin  Lady  Mary.  The  late  Master 
of  the  Temple  had  only  recently  died  in  a  dungeon 
at  Damascus,  and  the  new  Master  of  the  Hospital, 
after  the  great  defeat  of  the  Christians  at  Jacob's 
Ford,  on  the  Jordan,  had  swam  the  river  covered  with 
wounds,  and  escaped  to  the  Castle  of  Beaufort. 

The  singular  rules  of  the  "  Order  of  the  Poor 
Fellow-Soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ  and  of  the  Temple 
of  Solomon,"  were  revised  by  the  first  Abbot  of 
Clairvaux,  St.  Bernard  himself.  Extremely  austere 
and  earnest,  they  were  divided  into  seventy-two 
heads,  and  enjoined  severe  and  constant  devotional 
exercises,  self-mortification,  fasting,  prayer,  and 
regular  attendance  at  matins,  vespers,  and  all  the 
services  of  the  Church.  Dining  in  one  common 
refectory,  the  Templars  were  to  make  known  wants 
that  could  not  be  expressed  by  signs,  in  a  gentle, 
soft,  and  private  way.  Two  and  two  were  in 
general  to  live  together,  so  that  one  might  watch 
the  other.      After  departing  from  the  supper  hall 


to  bed  it  was  not  permitted  them  to  speak  again 
in  public,  except  upon  urgent  necessity,  and  then 
only  in  an  undertone.  All  scurrility,  jests,  and 
idle  words  were  to  be  avoided ;  and  after  any 
fooUsh  saying,  the  repetition  of  the  Lord's  Prayer 
was  enjoined.  All  professed  knights  were  to  wear 
white  garments,  both  in  summer  and  winter,  as 
emblems  of  chastity.  The  esquires  and  retainers 
were  required  to  wear  black  or,  in  provinces  where 
that  coloured  cloth  could  not  be  procured,  brown. 
No  gold  or  silver  was  to  be  used  in  bridles,  breast- 
plates, or  spears,  and  if  ever  that  furniture  was  given 
them  in  charity,  it  was  to  be  discoloured  to  prevent 
an  appearance  of  superiority  or  arrogance.  No 
brother  was  to  receive  or  despatch  letters  without 
the  leave  of  the  master  or  procurator,  who  might 
read  them  if  he  chose.  No  gift  was  to  be  accepted 
by  a  Templar  till  permission  was  first  obtained 
from  the  Master.  No  knight  should  talk  to  any 
brother  of  his  previous  frolics  and  irregularities  in 
the  world.  No  brother,  in  pursuit  of  worldly  delight, 
was  to  hawk,  to  shoot  in  the  woods  with  long  or 
cross-bow,  to  halloo  to  dogs,  or  to  spur  a  horse  after 
game.  There  might  be  married  brothers,  but  they 
were  to  leave  part  of  their  goods  to  the  chapter, 
and  not  to  wear  the  white  habit.  Widows  were  not 
to  dwell  in  the  preceptories.  When  travelling. 
Templars  were  to  lodge  only  with  men  of  the  best 
repute,  and  to  keep  a  light  burning  all  night  "lest 
the  dark  enemy,  from  whom  God  preserve  us,  should 
find  some  opportunity."  Unrepentant  brothers  were 
to  be  cast  out.  Last  of  all,  every  Templar  was  to 
shun  "  feminine  kisses,"  whether  from  widow,  virgin, 
mother,  sister,  aunt,  or  any  other  woman. 

During  six  of  the  seven  Crusades  (1096-1272), 
during  which  the  Christians  of  Europe  endeavoured, 
with  tremendous  yet  fitful  energy,  to  wrest  the 
birthplace  of  Christianity  from  the  equally  fanatic 
Moslems,  the  Knights  Templars  fought  bravely 
among  the  foremost.  Whether  by  the  side  of 
Godfrey  of  Bouillon,  Louis  VII.,  Philip  V.,  Richard 
Coeur  de  Lion,  Louis  IX.,  or  Prince  Edward,  the 
stern,  sunburnt  men  in  the  white  mandes  were  ever 
foremost  in  the  shock  of  spears.  Under  many  a 
clump  of  palm  trees,  in  many  a  scorched  desert 
track,  by  many  a  hill  fortress,  smitten  with  sabre 
or  pierced  with  arrow,  the  holy  brotherhood  dug  the 
graves  of  their  slain  companions. 


148 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


CThe  Temple, 


A  few  of  the  deeds,  which  must  have  been  so 
often  talked  of  upon  the  Temple  terrace  and  in  the 
Temple  cloister,  must  be  narrated,  to  show  that, 
however  mistaken  was  the  ideal  of  the  Crusaders, 
these  monkish  warriors  fought  their  best  to  turn  it 
into  a  reality.  In  1146  the  whole  brotherhood 
joined  the  second  Crusade,  and  protected  the  rear 
of  the  Christian  army  in  its  toilsome  march  through 
Asia  Minor.  In  1151,  the  Order  saved  Jerusalem, 
and  drove  back  the  Infidels  with  terrible  slaughter. 
Two  years  later  the  Master  of  the  Temple  was  slain, 
with  many  of  the  white  mantles,  in  fiercely  essaying 
to  storm  the  walls  of  Ascalon.  Three  years  after 
this  300  Templars  were  slain  in  a  Moslem  ambus- 
cade, near  Tiberias,  and  87  were  taken  prisoners. 
We  next  find  the  Templars  repelling  the  redoubt- 
able Saladin  from  Gaza  ;  and  in  a  great  battle  near 
Ascalon,  in  1177,  the  Master  of  the  Temple  and 
ten  knights  broke  through  the  Mameluke  Guards, 
and  all  but  captured  Saladin  in  his  tent.  The 
Templars  certainly  had  their  share  of  Infidel  blows, 
for,  in  1 178,  the  whole  Order  was  nearly  slain  in  a 
battle  with  Saladin  ;  and  in  another  fierce  conflict, 
only  the  Grand  Master  and  two  knights  escaped; 
while  again  at  Tiberias,  in  1 1 87,  they  received  a  cruel 
repulse,  and  were  all  but  totally  destroyed. 

In  1 187,  when  Saladin  took  Jerusalem,  he  next 
besieged  the  great  Templar  stronghold  of  Tyre; 
and  soon  after  a  body  of  the  knights,  sent  from 
London,  attacked  Saladin's  camp  in  vain,  and  the 
Grand  Master  and  nearly  half  of  the  Order  perished. 
In  the  subsequent  siege  of  Acre  the  Crusaders  lost 
nearly  100,000  men  in  nine  pitched  battles.  In 
1 191,  however,  Acre  was  taken,  and  the  Kings  of 
France  and  England,  and  the  Masters  of  the 
Temple  and  the  Hospital,  gave  the  throne  of  the 
Latin  kingdom  to  Guy  de  Lusignan.  When  Richard 
Coeur  de  Lion  had  cruelly  put  to  death  2,000 
Moslem  prisoners,  we  find  the  Templars  inter- 
posing to  prevent  Richard  and  the  English  fighting 
against  the  Austrian  allies  ;  and  soon  after  the 
Templars  bought  Cyprus  of  Richard  for  300,000 
livres  of  gold.  In  the  advance  to  Jerusalem  the 
Templars  led  the  van  of  Richard's  army.  When  the 
attack  on  Jerusalem  was  suspended,  the  Templars 
followed  Richard  to  Ascalon,  and  soon  afterwards 
gave  Cyprus  to  Guy  de  Lusignan,  on  condition  of 
his  surrendering  the  Latin  crown.  When  Richard 
abandoned  the  Crusade,  after  his  treaty  with 
Saladin,  it  was  the  Templars  who  gave  him  a  galley 
and  the  disguise  of  a  Templar's  white  robe  to 
secure  his  safe  passage  to  an  Adriatic  port.  Upon 
Richard's  departure  they  erected  many  fortresses  in 
Palestine,  especially  one  on  Mount  Carmel,  which 
they  named  Pilgrim's  Castle. 


The  fourth  Cmsade  was  looked  on  unfavourably 
by  the  brotherhood,  who  now  wished  to  remain  at 
peace  with  the  Infidel,  but  they  nevertheless  soon 
warmed  to  the  fighting,  and  we  find  a  band  of  the 
white  mantles  defeated  and  slain  at  Jaffa.  With  a 
second  division  of  Crusaders  the  Templars  quar- 
relled, and  were  then  deserted  by  them.  Soon  after 
the  Templars  and  Hospitallers,  now  grown  corrupt 
and  rich,  quarrelled  about  lands  and  fortresses;  but 
they  were  still  flivoured  by  the  Pope,  and  helped  to 
maintain  the  Latin  throne.  In  1209  they  were 
strong  enough  to  resist  the  interdict  of  Pope  Inno- 
cent ;  and  in  the  Crusade  of  1 2 1 7  they  invaded 
Egypt,  and  took  Damietta  by  assault,  but,  at  the 
same  time,  to  the  indignation  of  England,  wrote 
home  urgently  for  more  money.  An  attack  on 
Cairo  proving  disastrous,  they  concluded  a  truce 
with  the  Sultan  in  1221,  In  the  Crusade  of  the 
Emperor  Frederick  the  Templars  refused  to  join 
an  excommunicated  man.  In  1240,  the  Templars 
wrested  Jerusalem  from  the  Sultan  of  Damascus, 
but,  in  1243,  were  ousted  by  the  Sultan  of  Egypt 
and  the  Sultan  of  Damascus,  and  were  almost  ex- 
terminated in  a  two  days'  battle ;  and,  in  1250,  they 
were  again  defeated  at  Mansourah.  When  King 
Louis  was  taken  prisoner,  the  Infidels  demanded 
the  surrender  of  all  the  Templar  fortresses  in 
Palestine,  but  eventually  accepted  Damietta  alone 
and  a  ransom,  which  Louis  exacted  from  the 
Templars.  In  1257  the  Moguls  and  Tartars  took 
Jerusalem,  and  almost  annihilated  the  Order,  whose 
instant  submission  they  required.  In  1268  Pope 
Urban  excommunicated  the  Marshal  of  the  Order, 
but  the  Templars  nevertheless  held  by  their  com- 
rade, and  Bendocdar,  the  Mameluke,  took  all  the 
castles  belonging  to  the  Templars  in  Armenia,  and 
also  stormed  Antioch,  which  had  been  a  Christian 
city  170  years. 

After  Prince  Edward's  Crusade  the  Templars  were 
close  pressed.  In  1291,  Aschraf  Khalil  besieged 
the  two  Orders  and  12,000  Christians  in  Acre  for 
six  terrible  weeks.  The  town  was  stormed,  and 
all  the  Christian  prisoners,  who  flew  to  the  Infidel 
camp,  were  ruthlessly  beheaded.  A  few  of  the 
Templars  flew  to  the  Convent  of  the  Temple,  and 
there  perished ;  the  Grand  Master  had  already 
fallen ;  a  handful  of  the  knights  only  escaping  to 
Cyprus. 

The  persecution  of  the  now  corrupt  and  useless 
Order  commenced  sixteen  years  afterwards.  In 
1306,  both  in  London  and  Paris,  terrible  murmurs 
arose  at  their  infidelity  and  their  vices.  At  the 
Church  of  St.  Martin's,  Ludgate,  where  the  English 
Templars  were  accused,  the  following  charges  were 
brought  against  them  ; — 


The  Temple.] 


THE  ROtTND   CHURCH. 


149 


I.  That  at  their  first  reception  into  the  Order, 
they  were  admonished  by  those  who  had  received 
them  within  the  bosom  of  the  fraternity  to  deny 
Christ,  the  crucifixion,  the  blessed  Virgin,  and  all 
the  saints.  5.  That  the  receivers  instructed  those 
that  were  received  that  Christ  was  not  the  true 
God.  7.  That  they  said  Christ  had  not  suffered  for 
the  redemption  of  mankind,  nor  been  crucified  but 
for  His  own  sins.  9.  That  they  made  those  they 
received  into  the  Order  spit  upon  the  cross. 
ID.  That  they  caused  the  cross  itself  to  be  trampled 
under  foot.  11.  That  the  brethren  themselves  did 
sometimes  trample  on  the  same  cross.  14.  That 
they  worshipped  a  cat,  which  was  placed  in  the  midst 
of  the  congregation.  16.  That  they  did  not  believe 
tlie  sacrament  of  the  altar,  nor  the  other  sacra- 
ments of  the  Church.  24.  That  they  believed  that 
the  Grand  Master  of  the  Order  could  absolve  them 
from  their  sins.  25.  That  the  visitor  could  do  so. 
26.  That  the  preceptors,  of  whom  many  were 
laymen,  could  do  it.  36.  That  the  receptions  of 
the  brethren  were  made  clandestinely.  37.  That 
none  were  present  but  the  brothers  of  the  said 
Order.  38.  That  for  this  reason  there  has  for  a 
long  time  been  a  vehement  suspicion  against  them. 

46.  That  the  brothers  themselves  had  idols  in 
every  province,  viz.,  heads,  some  of  which  had 
three  faces,  and  some  one,  and  some  a  man's  skull. 

47.  That  they  adored  that  idol,  or  those  idols, 
especially  in  their  great  chapters  and  asserriblies. 

48.  That  they  worshipped  them.     49.    As   their 


God.  50.  As  their  saviour.  51.  That  some  of 
them  did  so.  52.  That  the  greater  part  did.  53. 
They  said  those  heads  could  save  them.  54.  That 
they  could  produce  riches.  55.  That  they  had 
given  to  the  Order  all  its  wealth.  56.  That  they 
caused  the  earth  to  bring  forth  seed.  57.  That 
they  made  the  trees  to  flourish.  58.  That  they 
bound  or  touched  the  heads  of  the  said  idols  with 
cords,  wherewith  they  bound  themselves  about 
their  shirts,  or  next  their  skins.  59.  That  at  their 
reception,  the  aforesaid  little  cords,  or  others  of 
the  same  length,  were  delivered  to  each  of  the 
brothers.  61.  That  it  was  enjoined  them  to  gird 
themselves  with  the  said  little  cords,  as  before 
mentioned,  and  continually  to  wear  them.  62. 
That  the  brethren  of  the  Order  were  generally 
received  in  that  manner.  63.  That  they  did  these 
things  out  of  devotion.  64.  That  they  did  them 
everywhere.  65.  That  the  greater  part  did.  66. 
That  those  who  refused  the  things  above  mentioned 
at  their  reception,  or  to  observe  them  afterwards, 
were  killed  or  cast  into  prison. 

The  Order  was  proud  and  arrogant,  and  had 
many  enemies.  The  Order  was  rich,  and  spoil 
would  reward  its  persecutors.  The  charges  against 
the  knights  were  eagerly  believed  ;  many  of  the 
Templars  were  burned  at  the  stake  in  Paris,  and 
many  more  in  various  parts  of  France.  In  Eng- 
land their  punishment  seems  to  have  been  less 
severe.  The  Order  was  formally  abolished  by 
Pope  Clement  V.,  in  the  year  13 12. 


CHAPTER      XIV. 
THE    TEMPLE    CHURCH    AND    PRECINCT. 

The  Temple  Church— Its  Restorations— Discoveries  of  Antiquities — The  Penitential  Cell — Discipline  in  the  Temple— The  Tombs  of  the  Templars 
in  the  "  Round  "—William  and  Gilbert  Marshall— Stone  Coffins  in  the  Churchyard — Masters  of  the  Temple— The  "  Judicious"  Hooker — 
Edmund  Gibbon,  the  Historian — The  Organ  in  the  Temple  Church— The  Rival  Builders— "  Straw  Bail" — History  of  the  Precinct— Chaucer 
and  the  Friar — His  Mention  of  the  Temple— The  Serjeants — Erection  of  New  Buildings— The  ''  Roses  "—Sumptuary  Edicts — The  Flying 
Horse. 


The  round  church  of  the  Temple  is  the  finest  of 
the  four  round  churches  still  existing  in  England. 
The  Templars  did  not,  however,  always  build  round 
towers,  resembling  the  Temple  at  Jerusalem,  though 
such  was  generally  their  practice.  The  restoration 
of  this  beautiful  relic  was  one  of  the  first  symptoms 
of  the  modern  Gothic  revival. 

In  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  the  body  of  the 
church  was  filled  with  formal  pews,  which  con- 
cealed the  bases  of  the  columns,  while  the  walls 


were  encumbered,  to  the  height  of  eight  feet 
from  the  ground,  with  oak  wainscoting,  which  was 
carried  entirely  round  the  church,  so  as  to  hide  the 
elegant  marble  piscina,  the  interesting  almeries  over 
the  high  altar,  and  the  sacrariwn  on  the  eastern 
side  of  the  edifice.  The  elegant  Gothic  arches 
connecting  the  round  with  the  square  church  were 
choked  up  with  an  oak  screen  and  glass  windows 
and  doors,  and  with  an  organ  gallery  adorned  with 
Corinthian  columns,  pilasters,  and   Grecian  orna- 


ISO 


OLD  AND.  NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Temple; 


ments,  which  divided  the  building  into  two  parts, 
altogether  altered  its  original  character  and  appear- 
ance, and  sadly  marring  its  architectural  beauty. 
The  eastern  end  of  the  church  was  at  the  same 
time  disfigured  by  an  enormous  altar-piece  in  the 
classic  style,  decorated  with  Corinthian  columns  and 
Grecian  cornices  and  entablatures,  and  with  enrich- 
ments of  cherubims  and  wreaths  of  fruit,  flowers, 
and  leaves,  heavy  and  cum- 
brous, and  quite  at  variance 
with  the  Gothic  character  of 
the  building.  A  large  pulpit 
and  carved  sounding-board 
were  erected  in  the  middle  of 
the  dome,  and  the  walls  and 
whinns  were  encrusted  and 
disfigured  with  hideous  mural 
monuments  and  pagan  tro- 
phies of  forgotten  wealth  and 
vanity. 

The  following  account  of 
the  earliest  repairs  of  the 
Temple  Church  is  given  in 
"  The  New  View  of  London" : 
"  Having  narrowly  escaped 
the  flames  in  1666,  it  was 
in  1682  beautified,  and  the 
curious  wainscot  screen  set 
up.  The  south-west  part 
was,  in  the  year  1695,  new 
built  with  stone.  In  the  year 
1706  the  church  was  wholly 
new  whitewashed,  gilt,  and 
painted  within,  and  the  pillars 
of  the  round  tower  wainscoted 
with  a  new  battlement  and 
buttresses  on  the  south  side, 
and  other  parts  of  the  out- 
side were  well  repaired.  Also 
the  figures  of  the  Knights 
Templars  were  cleaned  and 
painted,  and  the  iron-work 
enclosing  them  new  painted 
and  gilt  with  gold.    The  east 

end  of  the  church  was  repaired  and  beautified  in 
1707."  In  1737  the  exterior  of  the  north  side 
and  east  end  were  again  repaired. 

The  first  step  towards  the  real  restoration  of 
the  Temple  Church  was  made  in  1825.  It  had 
been  generally  repaired  in  181 1,  but  in  1825  Sir 
Robert  Smirke  restored  the  whole  south  side  ex- 
ternally and  the  lower  part  of  the  circular  portion 
of  the  round  church.  The  stone  seat  was  renewed, 
the  arcade  was  restored,  the  heads  which  had 
been  defaced  or  removed  were  supplied.  The  wain- 


A  KNIGHT  TEMPLAR, 


scoting  of  the  columns  was  taken  away,  the  monu- 
ments affixed  to  some  of  the  columns  were  removed, 
and  the  position  of  others  altered.  There  still  re- 
mained, however,  monuments  in  the  round  church 
materially  affecting  the  relative  proportions  of  the  two 
circles ;  the  clustered  columns  still  retained  their 
incrustations  of  paint,  plaster,  and  whitewash ;  the 
three  archway  entrances  into  the  oblong  church  re- 
mained in  their  former  state, 
detaching  the  two  portions 
from  each  other,  and  entirely 
destroying  the  perspective 
which  those  arches  afforded. 
When  the  genuine  restora- 
tion was  commenced  in  1845, 
the  removal  of  the  bcaudfica- 
tions  and  adornments  which 
had  so  long  disfigured  the 
Temple  Church,  was  regarded 
as  an  act  of  vandalism.  Seats 
were  substituted  for  pews, 
and  a  smaller  pulpit  and  read- 
ing-desk supplied  more  ap- 
propriate to  the  character  of 
the  building.  The  pavement 
was  lowered  to  its  original 
level;  and  thus  the  bases  of 
the  columns  became  once 
more  visible.  The  altar  screen 
and  railing  were  taken  down. 
The  organ  was  removed,  and 
thus  all  the  arches  from  the 
round  church  to  the  body 
of  the  oblong  church  were 
thrown  open.  By  this  altera- 
tion the  character  of  tlie 
church  was  shown  in  its  ori- 
ginal beauty. 

In  the  summer  of  1840,  the 
two  Societies  of  the  Inner  and 
Middle  Temple  had  the  paint 
and  whitewash  scraped  off"  the 
marble  columns  and  ceiling. 
The  removal  of  the  modern 
oak  wainscoting  led  to  the  discovery  of  a  very 
beautiful  double  marble  piscina  near  the  east  end 
of  the  south  side  of  the  building,  together  with 
an  adjoining  elegantly-shaped  recess,  and  also  a 
picturesque  Gothic  niche  on  the  north  side  of  the 
church. 

On  taking  up  the  modern  floor,  remains  of 
the  original  tesselated  pavement  were  discovered. 
When  the  whitewash  and  plaster  were  removed  from 
the  ceiling  it  was  found  in  a  dangerous  condition. 
There  were  also  found   there  remains  of  ancient 


The  Temple.] 


RESTORATION   OF  THE  CHURCH. 


151 


INTERIOR    OF    THE    TEMPLE    CHURCH    {see  pa^'-e  ISO). 


152 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Temple. 


decorative  paintings  and  rich  ornaments  worked  in 
gold  and  silver ;  but  they  were  too  fragmentary  to 
give  an  idea  of  the  general  pattern.  Under  these 
circumstances  it  was  resolved  to  redecorate  the 
ceiling  in  a  style  corresponding  with  the  ancient 
decorative  paintings  observable  in  many  Gothic 
churches  in  Italy  and  France. 

As  the  plaster  and  whitewash  were  removed  it 
was  found  that  the  columns  were  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful Purbeck  marble.  The  six  elegant  clustered 
columns  in  the  round  tower  had  been  concealed 
with  a  thick  coating  of  Roman  cement,  which  had 
altogether  concealed  the  graceful  form  of  the 
mouldings  and  carved  foliage  of  their  capitals. 
Barbarous  slabs  of  Portland  stone  had  been  cased 
round  their  bases  and  entirely  altered  their  character. 
All  this  modern  patchwork  was  thrown  away ;  but 
the  venerable  marble  proved  so  mutilated  that  new 
columns  were  found  necessary  to  support  the  fabric. 
These  are  exact  imitations  of  the  old  ones.  The 
six  elegant  clustered  columns  already  alluded  to, 
however,  needed  but  slight  repair.  Almost  all  the 
other  marble-work  required  renewal,  and  a  special 
messenger  was  despatched  to  Purbeck  to  open  the 
ancient  quarries. 

Above  the  western  doorway  was  discovered 
a  beautiful  Norman  window,  composed  of  Caen 
stone.  The  porch  before  the  western  door  of  the 
Temple  Church,  which  formerly  communicated 
with  an  ancient  cloister  leading  to  the  hall  of  the 
Knights  Templars,  had  been  filled  up  with  rubbish 
to  a  height  of  nearly  two  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
ancient  pavement,  so  that  all  the  bases  of  the 
magnificent  Norman  doorway  were  entirely  hidden 
from  view. 

Previous  to  the  recent  restoration  the  round 
tower  was  surmounted  by  a  wooden,  flat,  white- 
washed ceiling,  altogether  different  from  the  ancient 
roof  This  ceiling  and  the  timber  roof  above  it 
have  been  entirely  removed,  and  replaced  by  the 
present  elegant  and  substantial  roof,  which  is  com- 
posed of  oak,  protected  externally  by  sheet  copper, 
and  has  been  painted  by  Mr.  Willement  in  accord- 
ance with  an  existing  example  of  decorative  painting 
in  an  ancient  church  in  Sicily.  Many  buildings 
were  also  removed  to  give  a  clearer  view  of  the 
fine  old  church. 

"Among  the  many  interesting  objects,"  says 
Mr.  Addison,  "  to  be  seen  in  the  ancient  church  of 
the  Knights  Templars  is  a.  pe/iitefitial  cell,  a  dreary 
place  of  solitary  confinement  formed  within  the 
thick  wall  of  the  building,  only  four  feet  six  inches 
long  and  two  feet  six  inches  wide,  so  narrow  and 
small  that  a  grown  person  cannot  lie  down  within 
it.     In  this  narrow  prison  the  disobedient  brethren 


of  the  ancient  Templars  were  temporarily  confined 
in  chains  and  fetters,  '  in  order  that  their  souls 
might  be  saved  from  the  eternal  prison  of  hell.' 
The  hinges  and  catch  of  a  door,  firmly  attached  to 
the  doorway  of  this  dreary  chamber,  still  remain, 
and  at  the  bottom  of  the  staircase  is  a  stone  recess 
or  cupboard,  where  bread  and  v/ater  were  placed 
for  the  prisoner.  In  this  cell  Brother  Walter  le 
Bacheler,  Knight,  and  Grand  Preceptor  of  Ireland,  is 
said  to  have  been  starved  to  death  for  disobedience 
to  his  superior,  the  Master  of  the  Temple.  His 
body  was  removed  at  daybreak  and  buried  by 
Brother  John  de  Stoke  and  Brother  Radulph  de 
Barton  in  the  middle  of  the  court  between  the 
church  and  the  hall." 

The  Temple  discipline  in  the  early  times  was  very 
severe  :  disobedient  brethren  were  scourged  by  the 
Master  himself  in  the  Temple  Church,  and  fre- 
quently whipped  publicly  on  Fridays  in  the  church. 
Adam  de  Valaincourt,  a  deserter,  was  sentenced  to 
eat  meat  with  the  dogs  for  a  whole  year,  to  fast 
four  days  in  the  week,  and  every  Monday  to 
present  himself  naked  at  the  high  altar  to  be 
publicly  scourged  by  the  officiating  priest. 

At  the  time  of  the  restoration  of  the  church 
stained  glass  windows  were  added,  and  the  panels 
of  the  circular  vaulting  were  emblazoned  with  the 
lamb  and  horse — the  devices  of  the  Inner  and 
Middle  Temple — and  the  Beauseant,  or  black  and 
white  banner  of  the  Templars. 

The  mail-clad  effigies  on  the  pavement  of  the 
"Round"  of  the  Temple  Church  are  not  monu- 
ments of  Knights  Templars,  but  of  "  Associates  of 
the  Temple,"  persons  only  partially  admitted  to  the 
privileges  of  the  powerful  Order.  During  the  last 
repairs  there  were  found  two  Norman  stone  coffins 
and  four  ornamented  leaden  coffins  in  small  vaults 
beneath  these  effigies,  but  not  in  their  original 
positions.  Stow,  in  1598,  si>eaks  of  eight  images 
of  armed  knights  in  the  round  walk.  The  effigies 
have  been  restored  by  Mr.  Richardson,  the  sculptor. 
The  most  interesting  of  these  represents  Geoffrey 
de  Magnaville,  Earl  of  Essex,  a  bold  baron,  who 
fought  against  King  Stephen,  sacked  Cambridge, 
and  plundered  Ramsey  Abbey.  He  was  excom- 
municated, and  while  besieging  Burwell  Castle  was 
struck  by  an  arrow  from  a  crossbow  just  as  he  had 
taken  off"  his  helmet  to  get  air.  The  Templars, 
not  daring  to  bury  him,  soldered  him  up  in  lead, 
and  hung  him  on  a  crooked  tree  in  their  river- 
side orchard.  The  corpse  being  at  last  absolved, 
the  Templars  buried  it  before  the  west  door  of  their 
church.  He  is  to  be  known  by  a  long,  pointed 
shield  charged  with  rays  on  a  diamonded  field. 
The  next  figure,  of  Purbeck  marble  in  low  relief, 


The  Temple.] 


THE   TEMPLE   MONUMENTS. 


153 


is  supposed  to  be  the  most  ancient  of  all.  The 
shield  is  kite-shaped,  the  armour  composed  of 
rude  rings — name  unknown.  Vestiges  of  gilding 
were  discovered  upon  this  monument.  The  two 
effigies  on  the  north-east  of  the  *'  Round "  are 
also  anonymous.  They  are  the  tallest  of  all  the 
stone  brethren  :  one  of  them  is  straight-legged ;  the 
crossed  legs  of  his  comrade  denote  a  Crusading 
vow.  The  feet  of  the  first  rests  on  two  grotesque 
human  heads,  probably  Infidels  ;  the  second 
wears  a  mouth  guard  like  a  respirator.  Between 
the  two  figures  is  the  copestone  lid  of  an  ancient 
sarcophagus,  probably  that  of  a  Master  or  Visitor- 
General  of  the  Templars,  as  it  has  the  head  of  the 
cross  which  decorates  it  adorned  with  a  lion's  head, 
and  the  foot  rests  on  the  head  of  a  lamb,  the  joint 
emblems  of  the  Order  of  the  Templars.  During 
the  excavations  in  the  "  Round,"  a  magnificent 
Purbeck  marble  sarcophagus,  the  lid  decorated 
with  a  foliated  cross,  was  dug  up  and  re-interred. 

On  the  south  side  of  the  "  Round,"  between  two 
columns,  his  feet  resting  upon  a  lion,  reposes  a 
great  historical  personage,  William  Marshall,  the 
Protector  of  England  during  the  minority  of 
King  Henry  HI.,  a  warrior  and  a  statesman 
whose  name  is  sullied  by  no  crimes.  The  features 
are  handsome,  and  the  whole  body  is  wrapped  in 
chain  mail.  A  Crusader  in  early  life,  the  earl 
became  one  of  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion's  vice- 
gerents during  his  absence  in  Palestine.  He 
fought  in  Normandy  for  King  John,  helped  in  the 
capture  of  Prince  Arthur  and  his  sister,  urged  the 
usurper  to  sign  Magna  Charta,  and  secured  the 
throne  for  Prince  Henry.  Finally,  he  defeated  the 
French  invaders,  routed  the  French  at  sea,  and 
died,  in  the  fulness  of  years,  a  warrior  whose 
deeds  had  been  notable,  a  statesman  whose  motives 
could  seldom  be  impugned.  Shakespeare,  Avith 
ever  a  keen  eye  for  great  men,  makes  the  earl  the 
interceder  for  Prince  Arthur.  He  was  a  great 
benefactor  of  the  brethren  of  the  Chivalry  of  the 
Temple. 

By  the  side  of  the  earl  reposes  his  warlike  son 
William  Marshall  the  younger,  cut  in  freestone.  He 
was  one  of  the  chief  leaders  of  the  Barons  against 
John,  and  in  Henry's  reign  he  overthrew  Prince 
Llewellyn,  and  slew  8,000  wild  Welsh.  He  fought 
with  credit  in  Brittany  and  Ireland,  and  eventually 
married  Eleanor,  the  king's  sister.  He  gave  an 
estate  to  the  Templars.  The  effigy  is  clad  in  a 
shirt  of  ring  mail,  above  which  is  a  loose  garment, 
girded  at  the  waist.  The  shield  on  the  left  arm 
bears  a  lion  ramp?.nt. 

Near  the  western  doorway  reclines  the  mailed 
effigy  of  Gilbert  Marshall,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  third 


son  of  the  Protector.  He  is  in  the  act  of  drawing 
a  sword,  and  his  left  foot  rests  on  a  winged  dragon. 
This  earl,  at  the  murder  of  a  brother  in  Ireland, 
succeeded  to  the  title,  and  married  Margaret,  a 
daughter  of  the  King  of  Scotland.  He  was  just 
starting  for  the  Crusades,  when  he  was  killed  by  a 
fall  from  his  horse,  in  a  tournament  held  at  Ware, 
(1241).  Like  the  other  Marshalls,  he  was  a  bene- 
factor of  the  Temple,  and,  like  all  the  four  sons  of 
the  Protector,  died  without  issue,  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  III.,  the  family  becoming  extinct  with 
him.  Matthew  Paris  declared  that  the  race  had 
been  cursed  by  the  Bishop  of  Femes,  from  whom 
the  Protector  had  stolen  lands.  The  bishop, 
says  the  chronicler,  with  great  awe  came  with  King 
Henry  to  the  Temple  Church,  and,  standing  at  the 
earl's  tomb,  promised  the  dead  man  absolution  if 
the  lands  were  returned.  No  restitution  was  made, 
so  the  curse  fell  on  the  doomed  race.  All  these 
Pembrokes  wear  chain  hoods  and  have  animals 
recumbent  at  their  feet. 

The  name  of  a  beautiful  recumbent  mailed  figure 
next  Gilbert  Marshall  is  vmknown,  and  near  him, 
on  the  south  side  of  the  "  Round,"  rests  the  ever- 
praying  effigy  of  Robert,  Lord  de  Ros.  This 
lord  was  no  Templar,  for  he  has  no  beard, 
and  wears  flowing  hair,  contrary  to  the  rules 
of  the  Order.  His  shield  bears  tliree  water 
buckets.  The  figure  is  cut  out  of  yellow  Roach 
Abbey  stone.  The  armour  is  linked.  This  knight 
was  fined  ;j^8oo  by  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion  for 
allowing  a  French  prisoner  of  consequence  to 
escape  from  his  custody.  He  married  a  daughter 
of  a  King  of  Scotland,  was  Sheriff  of  Cumberland, 
helped  to  extort  Magna  Charta  from  King  John, 
and  gave  much  public  property  to  the  Templars. 

During  the  repairs  of  the  round  tower  several 
sarcophagi  of  Purbeck  marble  were  discovered. 
On  the  coffins  being  removed  while  the  tower 
was  being  propped,  the  bodies  all  crumbled  to 
dust.  The  sarcophagi  were  all  reinterred  in  the 
centre  of  the  "  Round." 

During  the  repairs  of  1850  the  workmen  dis- 
covered and  stole  an  ancient  seal  of  the  Order ;  it 
had  the  name  of  Berengarius,  and  on  one  side  was 
represented  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  "  The  churchyard 
abounds,"  Mr.  Addison  says,  "  with  ancient  stone 
coffins.  According  to  Burton,  an  antiquary  of, 
Elizabeth's  time,  there  then  existed  in  the  Temple 
Church  a  monument  to  a  Visitor-General  of  the 
Order.  Among  other  distinguished  persons  buried 
in  the  Temple  Church,  for  so  many  ages  a  place  of 
special  sanctity,  was  William  Plantagenet,  fifth  son 
of  Henry  III.,  who  died  when  a  youth.  Henry  III. 
himself,  had  at  one  time  resolved  to  be  buried  "  witl> 


154 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Temple. 


the  brethren  of  the  Chivalry  of  the  Temple,  expect- 
ing and  hoping  that,  through  our  Lord  and 
Saviour,  it  will  greatly  contribute  to  the  salvation 
of  our  soul."  Queen  Eleanor  also  provided  for  her 
interment  in  the  Temple,  but  it  was  otherwise 
decreed. 

In  the  triforium  of  the  Temple  Church  have  been 
packed  away,  like  lumber,  the  greater  part  of  the 
clumsy  monuments  that  once  disfigured  the  walls 
and  colunms  below.  In  this  strange  museum  lord 
chancellors,  councillors  of  state,  learned  benchers, 
barons  of  the  exchequer,  masters  of  the  rolls,  trea- 
surers, readers,  prothonotaries,  poets,  and  authors 
jostle  each  other  in  dusty  confusion.  At  the  en- 
trance, under  a  canopy,  is  the  recumbent  figure  of 
the  great  lawyer  of  Elizabeth's  time,  Edmund 
Plowden.  This  grave  and  wise  man,  being  a 
staunch  Romanist,  was  slighted  by  the  Protestant 
Queen.  It  is  said  that  he  was  so  studious  in  his 
youth  that  at  one  period  he  never  went  out  of  the 
Temple  precincts  for  three  whole  years.  He  was 
Treasurer  of  the  Middle  Temple  the  year  the  hall 
was  built. 

Selden  (that  great  writer  on  international  law, 
whose  "  Mare  clausum"  was  a  reply  to  the  "  Mare 
liberum"  of  Grotius)  is  buried  to  the  left  of  the 
altar,  the  spot  being  marked  by  a  monument  of  white 
marble.  "  His  grave,"  says  Aubrey,  "  was  about 
ten  feet  deepe  or  better,  walled  up  a  good  way  with 
bricks,  of  which  also  the  bottome  was  paved,  but 
the  sides  at  the  bottome  for  about  two  foot  high  were 
of  black  polished  marble,  wherein  his  coffin  (covered 
with  black  bayes)  lyeth,  and  upon  that  wall  of 
marble  was  presently  lett  downe  a  huge  black 
marble  stone  of  great  thicknesse,  with  this  inscrip- 
tion— 'Hie  jacet  corpus  Johannis  Seldeni,  qui 
obijt  30  die  Novembris,  1654.'  Over  this  was 
turned  an  arch  of  brick  (for  the  house  would  not 
lose  their  ground),  and  upon  that  was  throwne  the 
earth,"  &c. 

There  is  a  monument  in  the  triforium  to  Ed- 
mund Gibbon,  a  herald  and  an  ancestor  of  the  his- 
torian. The  great  writer  alluding  to  this  monment 
says — "  My  family  arms  are  the  same  which  were 
borne  by  the  Gibbons  of  Kent,  in  an  age  when  the 
College  of  Heralds  religiously  guarded  the  distinc- 
tions of  blood  and  name — a  lion  rampant  gardant 
between  three  schollop  shells  argent,  on  a  field 
azure.  I  should  not,  however,  have  been  tempted 
to  blazon  my  coat  of  arms  were  it  not  connected 
with  a  whimsical  anecdote.  About  the  reign  of 
James  I.,  the  three  harmless  schollop  shells  were 
changed  by  Edmund  Gibbon,  Esq.,  into  three 
ogresses,  or  female  cannibals,  with  a  design  of 
Stigmatising  three  ladies,  his  kinswomen,  who  had 


provoked  him  by  an  unjust  lawsuit.  But  this 
singular  mode  of  revenge,  for  which  he  obtained 
the  sanction  of  Sir  William  Seager,  King-at-Arms, 
soon  expired  with  its  author ;  and  on  his  own 
monument  in  the  Temple  Church  the  monsters 
vanish,  and  the  three  schollop  shells  resume  their 
proper  and  hereditary  place." 

At  the  latter  end  of  Charles  II.'s  reign  the  organ  in 
the  Temple  Church  became  the  subject  of  a  singular 
contest,  which  was  decided  by  a  most  remarkable 
judge.  The  benchers  had  determined  to  have  the 
best  organ  in  London  ;  the  competitors  for  the  build- 
ing were  Smith  and  Harris.  Father  Smith,  a  German, 
was  renowned  for  his  care  in  choosing  wood  without 
knot  or  flaw,  and  for  throwing  aside  every  metal 
or  wooden  pipe  that  was  not  perfect  and  sound. 
His  stops  were  also  allowed  by  all  to  be  singularly 
equal  and  sweet  in  tone.  The  two  competitors 
were  each  to  erect  an  organ  in  the  Temple  Church, 
and  the  best  one  was  to  be  retained.  The  com- 
petition was  carried  on  with  such  violence  that 
some  of  the  partisans  almost  ruined  themselves  by 
the  money  they  expended.  The  night  preceding 
the  trial  the  too  zealous  friends  of  Harris  cut  the 
bellows  of  Smith's  organ,  and  rendered  it  for  the 
time  useless.  Drs.  Blow  and  Piircell  were  employed 
to  show  the  powers  of  Smith's  instrument,  and 
the  French  organist  of  Queen  Catherine  performed 
on  Harris's.  The  contest  continued,  with  varying 
success,  for  nearly  a  twelvemonth.  At  length 
Harris  challenged  his  redoubtable  rival  to  make 
certain  additional  reed  stops,  vox  humana,  cref?iofia, 
double  bassoon  and  other  stops,  within  a  given 
time.  The  controversy  was  at  last  terminated  by 
Lord  Chief  Justice  Jefferies — the  cruel  and  de- 
bauched Jefferies,  who  was  himself  an  accom- 
plished musician — deciding  in  favour  of  Father 
Smith.  Part  of  Harris's  rejected  organ  was  erected 
at  St.  Andrew's,  Holborn,  part  at  Christ  Church 
Cathedral,  Dublin.  Father  Smith,  in  consequence 
of  his  success  at  the  Temple,  was  employed  to 
build  an  organ  for  St.  Paul's,  but  Sir  Christopher 
Wren  would  never  allow  the  case  to  be  made  large 
enough  to  receive  all  the  stops.  "  The  sound  and 
general  mechanism  of  modern  instruments,"  says 
Mr.  Burge,  "  are  certainly  superior  to  those  of  Father 
Smith's,  but  for  sweetness  of  tone  I  have  never 
met  in  any  part  of  Europe  with  pipes  that  have 
equalled  his." 

In  the  reign  of  James  I.  there  was  a  great  dispute 
between  the  Gustos  of  the  Temple  and  the  two 
Societies.  This  sinecure  oftice,  the  gifc  of  the 
Crown,  was  a  rectory  without  tithes,  and  the  Gustos 
was  dependent  upon  voluntary  contributions.  The 
benchers,  irritated  at  Dr.  Micklethwaite's  arrogant 


The  Temple.] 


THE  RIVAL  ORGANISTS. 


155 


pretensions,  shut  the  doctor  out  from  their  dinners. 
In  the  reign  of  Charles  I.,  the  doctor  complained  to 
the  king  that  he  received  no  tithes,  was  refused 
precedence  as  Master  of  the  Temple,  was  allowed 
no  share  in  the  deliberations,  was  not  paid  for  his 
supernumerary  sermons,  and  was  denied  ecclesi- 
astical jurisdiction.  The  doctor  thereupon  locked 
up  the  church  and  took  away  the  keys  ;  but  Noy, 
the  Attorney-General,  snubbed  him,  and  called 
him  "  elatns  et  superbus ;"  and  he  got  nothi::g, 
after  all,  but  hard  words,  for  his  petition. 

The  learned  and  judicious  Hooker,  author  of 
"  The  Ecclesiastical  Polity,"  was  for  six  years  Master 
of  the  Temple — ''a  place,"  says  Izaak  Walton, 
"  which  he  accepted  rather  than  desired."  Travers, 
a  disciple  of  Cartwright  the  Noncomforn  \st,  was  the 
lecturer ;  so  Hooker,  it  was  said,  preached  Canter- 
bury in  the  forenoon,  and  Travers  Geneva  in  the 
afternoon.  The  benchers  were  divided,  and  Travers 
being  at  last  silenced  by  the  archbishop,  Hooker 
resigned,  and  in  his  quiet  parsonage  of  Boscombe 
renewed  the  contest  in  print,  in  his  "  Ecclesiastical 
Polity." 

When  Bishop  Sherlock,  was  Master  of  the  Temple, 
the  sees  of  Canterbury  and  London  were  vacant 
about  the  same  time  (1748);  this  occasioned  an 
epigram  upon  Sherlock, — 

"  At  the  Temple  one  day,  Sherlock  taking  a  boat, 
The  waterman  asked  him,  '  Which  way  will  you  float  ?' 
'  Which  way  ?'  says  the  Doctor  ;  '  why,  fool,  with  the 

stream  !' 
To  St.  Paul's  or  to  Lambeth  was  all  one  to  him." 

The  tide  in  favour  of  Sherlock  was  running  to 
St.  Paul's.     He  was  mode  Bishop  of  London. 

During  the  repairs  of  1827  the  ancient  freestone 
chapel  of  St.  Anne,  which  stood  on  the  south  side 
of  the  ''Round,"  was  ruthlessly  removed.  We  had 
less  reverence  for  antiquity  then.  The  upper  storey 
communicated  with  the  Temple  Church  by  a  stair- 
case opening  on  the  west  end  of  the  south  aisle  of 
the  choir;  the  lower  joined  the  "Round"  by  a  door- 
way under  one  of  the  arches  of  the  circular  arcade. 
The  chapel  anciently  opened  upon  the  cloisters, 
and  formed  a  private  way  from  the  convent  to  the 
church.  Here  the  Papal  legate  and  the  highest 
bishops  frequently  held  conferences ;  and  on  Sunday 
mornings  the  Master  of  the  Temple  held  chapters, 
enjoined  penances,  made  up  quarrels,  and  pro- 
nounced absolution.  The  chapel  of  St.  Anne  was 
in  the  old  time  much  resorted  to  by  barren  women, 
who  there  prayed  for  children. 

In  Charles  II.'s  time,  according  to  "  Hudibras," 
"  straw  bail"  and  low  rascals  of  that  sort  lingered 
about  the  Round,  waiting  for  hire.      Butler  says  : — 


"Retain  all  sorts  of  witnesses 
That  ply  i'  the  Temple,  under  trees, 
Or  walk  the  Round  with  Knights  o'  th'  Posts, 
About  the  cross-legg'd  knights,  their  hosts  ; 
Or  wait  for  customers  between 
The  pillar  rows  in  Lincolo's  Inn." 

In  James  I.'s  time  the  Round,  as  we  find  in  Ben 
Jonson,  was  a  place  for  appointments  ;  and  in  168 1 
Otway  describes  bullies  of  Alsatia,  with  flapping 
hats  pinned  up  on  one  side,  sandy,  weather-beaten 
periwigs,  and  clumsy  iron  swords  clattering  at  their 
heels,  as  conspicuous  personages  among  the  Knights 
of  the  Posts  and  the  other  peripatetic  philosophers 
of  the  Temple  walks. 

We  must  now  turn  to  the  history  of  the  whole 
precinct.  When  the  proud  Order  was  abolished 
by  the  Pope,  Edward  II.  granted  the  Temple  to 
A^-mer  de  Valence,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  who,  how- 
ever, soon  surrendered  it  to  the  king's  cousin,  the 
Earl  of  Lancaster,  who  let  it,  at  their  special 
request,  to  the  student.'^  ..nd  professors  of  the  com- 
mon laws ;  the  colony  then  gradually  becoming  an 
organised  and  collegiate  body,  Edward  I.  having 
authorised  laymen  for  the  first  time  to  read  and 
plead  causes. 

Hugh  le  Despenser  for  a  time  held  the  Temple, 
and  on  his  execution  Edward  III.  appointed  the 
Mayor  of  London  its  guardian.  The  mayor  closing 
the  Watergate  caused  much  vexation  to  the  lawyers 
rowing  by  boat  to  Westminster,  and  the  k^ng  had 
to  interfere.  In  1333  the  king  farmed  out  the 
Temple  rents  at  j[,2^  a  year.  In  the  meantime, 
the  Knights  Hospitallers,  affecting  to  be  offended 
at  the  desecration  of  holy  ground — the  Bishop 
of  Ely's  lodgings,  a  chapel  dedicated  to  k  Becket, 
and  the  door  to  the  Temple  Hall — claimed 
the  forfeited  spot.  The  king  granted  their  re- 
quest, the  annual  revenue  of  the  Temple  then 
being  ;^73  6s.  iid.,  equal  to  about  ^1,000  of  our 
present  money.  In  1340,  in  consideration  of  ;^ioo 
towards  an  expedition  to  France,  the  warlike  king 
made  over  the  residue  of  the  Temple  to  the 
Hospitallers,  who  instantly  endowed  the  church 
with  lands  and  one  thousand  fagots  a  year  from 
Lillerton  Wood  to  keep  up  the  church  fires. 

In  this  reign  Chaucer,  who  is  supposed  to  have 
been  a  student  of  the  Middle  Temple,  and  who 
is  said  to  have  once  beaten  an  insolent  Franciscan 
friar  in  Fleet  Street,  gives  a  eulogistic  sketch  of  a 
Temple  manciple,  or  purveyor  of  provisions,  in  the 
prologue  to  his  wonderful  "  Canterbury  Tales." 

"  A  gentil  manciple  was  there  of  the  Temple 
Of  whom  achatours  mightcn  take  ensample, 
For  to  ben  wise  in  bying  of  vitaille  ; 
For,  whether  that  he  paid  or  toke  by  taille, 


156 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[The  Temple. 


Algate  he  waited  so  in  his  achate 
That  he  was  aye  before  in  good  estate. 
Now  is  not  that  of  God  a  full  fayre  grace 
That  swiche  a  lewed  mannas  wit  shall  face 
The  wisdom  of  an  hepe  of  lemed  men  ? 

"  Of  maisters  had  he  more  than  thries  ten, 
That  were  of  law  expert  and  curious  ; 
Of  which  there  was  a  dosein  in  that  hous 
Worthy  to  ben  stewardes  of  leiit  and  land 
Of  any  lord  that  is  in  Engleland  : 
To  maken  him  live  by  his  propre  good, 
In  honour  detteles  ;  but  if  he  were  wood. 
Or  live  as  scarsly  as  him  list  desire, 
And  able  for  to  helpen  all  a  shire, 
In  any  cos  that  mighte  fallen  or  happe  : 
And  yet  this  manciple  sett  '  hir  aller  cappe." 


at-law  exactly  resembles  that  once  used  for  re- 
ceiving Fratres  Servientes  into  the  fraternity  of 
the  Temple. 

In  Wat  Tyler's  rebellion  the  wild  men  of  Kent 
poured  down  on  the  dens  of  the  Temple  lawyers, 
pulled  down  their  houses,  carried  off  the  books, 
deeds,  and  rolls  of  remembrance,  and  burnt  them 
in  Fleet  Street,  to  spite  the  Knights  Hospitallers. 
Walsingham,  the  chronicler,  indeed,  says  that  the 
rebels — who,  by  the  by,  claimed  only  their  rights 
— had  resolved  to  decapitate  all  the  lawyers  of 
London,  to  put  an  end  to  all  the  laws  that  had 
oppressed  them,  and  to  clear  the  ground  for  better 
times.     In  the  reign  of  Henry  VI.  the  overgrown 


TOMBS  OF   KNIGHTS  TEMPLARS  (see  pa^e   152). 


In  the  Middle  Temple  Chaucer  is  supposed  to 
have  formed  the  acquaintanceship  of  his  graver 
contemporary,  "  the  moral  Gower." 

Many  of  the  old  retainers  of  the  Templars  became 
servants  of  the  new  lawyers,  who  had  ousted  their 
masters.  The  attendants  at  table  were  still  called 
paniers,  as  they  had  formerly  been.  The  dining 
in  pairs,  the  expulsion  from  hall  for  misconduct, 
and  the  locking  out  of  chambers  were  old  customs 
also  kept  up.  The  judges  of  Common  Pleas  re- 
tained the  title  of  knight,  and  the  Fratres  Servientes 
of  the  Templars  arose  again  in  the  character  of 
learned  serjeants-at-law,  the  coif  of  the  modern 
Serjeant  being  the  linen  coif  of  the  old  Freres 
Serjens  of  the  Temple.  The  coif  was  never,  as 
some  suppose,  intended  to  hide  the  tonsure  of 
priests  practising  law  contrary  to  ecclesiastical  pro- 
hibition.    The  old  ceremony  of  creating  serjeants- 


society  of  the  Temple  divided  into  two  halls,  or 
rather  the  original  two  halls  of  the  knights  and 
Fratres  Servientes  separated  into  two  societies. 
Brooke,  the  Elizabethan  antiquary,  says  :  "  To  this 
day,  in  memory  of  the  old  custom,  the  benchers  or 
ancients  of  the  one  society  dine  once  every  year  in 
the  hall  of  the  other  society." 

Sir  John  Fortescue,  Chief  Justice  of  the  King's 
Bench  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VI.,  computed  the 
annual  expenses  of  each  law  student  at  more  than 
^2% — (";^45o  of  our  present  money" — Addison). 
The  students  were  all  gentlemen  by  birth,  and  at 
each  Inn  of  Court  there  was  an  academy,  where 
singing,  music,  and  dancing  were  taught.  On 
festival  days,  after  the  offices  of  the  Church,  the 
students  employed  themselves  in  the  study  of 
'  history  and  in  reading  the  Scriptures.  Any  student 
expelled  one  society  was  refused  admission  to  any 


The  Temple.] 


THE   RIVER   WALL/. 


^57 


of  the  other  societies.  A  manuscript  (temp. 
Henry  VHI.)  in  the  Cotton  Library  dwells  much 
on  the  readings,  mootings,  boltings,  and  other 
practices  of  the  Temple  students,  and  analyses 
the  various  classes  of  benchers,  readers,  cupboard- 
men,  inner  barristers,  outer  barristers,  and  students. 
The  writer  also  mentions  the  fact  that  in  term 
times  the  students  met  to  talk  law  and  confer  on 
business  in  the  church,  which  was,  he  says,  as 
noisy  as  St.  Paul's.  When  the  plague  broke  out 
the  students  went  home  to  the  country. 


The  attention  paid  by  the  governors  of  the  house 
both  to  the  morals  and  dress  of  its  members  is 
evidenced  by  the  imposition,  in  the  thirteenth  year 
of  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  of  a  fine  of  6s.  8d. 
on  any  one  who  should  exercise  the  plays  of 
"  shove-grote"  or  "  slyp-grote,"  and  by  the  mandate 
afterwards  issued  in  the  thirty-eighth  year  of  the 
same  reign,  that  students  should  reform  themselves 
in  their  cut,  or  disguised  apparel,  and  should  not 
have  long  beards. 

It  is  in  the  Temple  Gardens  that  Shakespeare — 


THE  TEMPLE  IN    1671.       (FROM   AN   OLD   BIRD'S-EVE  VIEW  IN  THE  INNER  TEMPLE.) 


The  Society  of  the  Inner  Temple  was  very  active 
(says  Mr.  Foss)  during  the  reign  of  Henry  VI 1 1, 
in  the  erection  of  new  buildings.  Several  houses 
for  chambers  were  constructed  near  the  library, 
and  were  called  Pakington's  Rents,  from  the  name 
of  the  treasurer  who  superintended  them.  Henry 
Bradshaw,  treasurer  in  the  twenty-sixth  year,  gave 
his  name  to  another  set  then  built,  which  it  kept 
until  Chief  Baron  Tanfield  resided  there  in  the 
reign  of  James  I.,  since  which  it  has  been  called 
Tanfield  Court.  Other  improvements  were  made 
about  the  same  period,  one  of  these  being  the  con- 
struction of  a  new  ceiling  to  the  hall  and  the  erec- 
tion of  a  wall  between  the  garden  and  the  Thames. 
14 


relying,  probably,  on  some  old  tradition  which 
does  not  exist  in  print — has  laid  one  of  the  scenes 
of  his  King  Henry  VI. — that,  namely,  in  which  the 
partisans  of  the  rival  houses  of  York  and  Lan- 
caster first  assume  their  distinctive  badges  of  the 
white  and  red  roses  : — 

"  Suffolk.  Within  the  Temple  Hall  we  were  too  loud  ; 
The  garden  here  is  more  convenient. 

*  .  «  *  * 

"  Plantagenet.  Let  him  that  is  a  true-born  gentleman, 
And  stands  upon  the  honour  of  his  birth, 
If  he  suppose  that  I  have  pleaded  truth, 
From  off  this  brier  pluck  a  white  rose  with  me.  " 

"  Somerset,  Let  him  that  is  no  coward,  nor  no  flatterer, 


158 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[The  Temple 


But  dare  maintain  the  party  of  the  truth, 
Pluck  a  red  rose  from  off  this  thorn  with  me. 

•  »  *  * 

**  Plantagenet.  Hath  not  thy  rose  a  canker,  Somerset  ? 
"  Somerset.  Hath  not  tliy  rose  a  thorn.  Plantagenet  ? 

•  •  *  * 

"  Warwick.  This  brawl  to-day, 

Grown  to  this  faction  in  the  Temple  Garden, 
Shall  send,  between  the  red  rose  and  the  white, 
A  thousand  souls  to  death  and  deadly  night." 

JCing  Henry  VI.,  Part  I.,  Act  ii.,  so.  4. 

TTie  books  of  the  Middle  Temple  do  not  com- 
mence till  the  reign  of  King  Henry  VII.,  the  first 
treasurer  named  in  them  being  John  Brooke,  in  the 
sixteenth  year  of  Henry  VII.  (i 500-1).  Readers 
were  not  appointed  till  the  following  year,  the 
earliest  being  John  Vavasour — probably  son  of  the 
judge,  and  not,  as  Dugdale  calls  him,  the  judge 
himself,  who  had  then  been  on  the  bench  for  twelve 
years.  Members  of  the  house  might  be  excused 
from  living  in  commons  on  account  of  their  wives 
being  in  town,  or  for  other  special  reasons  (Foss). 

In  the  last  year  of  Philip  and  Mary  (1558) 
eight  gentlemen  of  the  Temple  were  expelled  the 
society  and  committed  to  the  Fleet  for  wilful  dis- 
obedience to  the  Bench,  but  on  their  humble 
submission  they  were  readmitted.  A  year  before 
this  a  severe  Act  of  Parliament  was  passed,  pro- 
hibiting Templars  wearing  beards  of  more  than 


three  weeks'  growth,  upon  pain  of  a  forty-shilling 
fine,  and  double  for  every  week  after  monition. 
The  young  lawyers  were  evidently  getting  too 
foppish.  They  were  required  to  cease  wearing 
Spanish  cloaks,  swords,  bucklers,  rapiers,  gowns, 
hats,  or  daggers  at  their  girdles.  Only  knights 
and  benchers  were  to  display  doublets  or  hose  of 
any  light  colour,  except  scarlet  and  crimson,  or 
to  affect  velvet  caps,  scarf-wings  to  their  gowns, 
white  jerkins,  buskins,  velvet  shoes,  double  shin- 
cuffs,  or  feathers  or  ribbons  in  their  caps.  More- 
over, no  attorney  was  to  be  admitted  into  eitlier 
house.  These  monastic  rules  were  intended  to 
preserve  the  gravity  of  the  profession,  and  must 
have  pleased  the  Poloniuses  and  galled  the  Mer- 
cutios  of  those  troublous  days. 

In  EHzabeth's  days  Master  Gerard  Leigh,  a 
pedantic  scholar  of  the  College  of  Heralds,  per- 
suaded the  misguided  Inner  Temple  to  abandon 
the  old  Templar  arms — a  plain  red  cross  on  a 
shield  argent,  with  a  lamb  bearing  the  banner  of 
the  sinless  profession,  surmounted  by  a  red  cross. 
The  heraldic  euphuist  substituted  for  this  a  flying 
Pegasus  striking  out  the  fountain  of  Hippocrene 
with  its  hoofs,  with  the  appended  motto  of  "  Volat 
ad  astera  virtus,"  a  recondite  allusion  to  men,  like 
Chaucer  and  Gower,  who,  it  is  said,  had  turned 
from  lawyers  to  poets. 


CHAPTER    XV. 
THE    TEMPLE    {continued). 

The  Middle  Temple  Hall  :  its  Roof,  Busts,  and  Portraits— Manningham's  Diary — Fox  Hunts  in  Hall— The  Grand  Revels— Spenser— Sir  J.  Davis 
— A  Present  to  a  King — Masques  and  Royal  Visitors  at  the  Temple — Fires  in  the  Temple — The  Last  Great  Revel  in  the  Hall — Temple 
Anecdotes — The  Gordon  Riots— John  Scott  and  his  Pretty  Wife — Colman  "  Keeping  Terms" — Blackstone's  "  Farewell"— Burke — Sheridan 
— A  Pair  of  Epigrams— Hare  Court — The  Barber's  Shop — Johnson  and  the  Literary  Club — Charles  Lamb — Goldsmith  :  his  Life,  Troubles, 
and  Extravagances—"  Hack  Work"  for  Booksellers — The  Deserted  Village— She  Stoops  to  C(7»f«^r— Goldsmith's  Death  and  Burial. 


In  the  glorious  reign  of  Elizabeth  the  old  Middle 
Temple  Hall  was  converted  into  chambers,  and  a 
new  hall  built.  The  present  roof  (says  Mr.  Peter 
Cunningham)  is  the  best  piece  of  Elizabethan 
architecture  in  London.  The  screen,  in  the 
Renaissance  style,  was  long  supposed  to  be  an 
exact  copy  of  the  Strand  front  of  Old  Somerset 
House ;  but  this  is  a  vulgar  error;  nor  could  it  have 
been  made  of  timber  from  the  Spanish  Armada,  for 
the  simple  reason  that  it  was  set  up  thirteen  years 
before  the  Armada  was  organised.  The  busts  of 
"doubting"  Lord  Eldon  and  his  brother.  Lord 
Stowell,  the  great  Admiralty  judge,  are  by  Behnes. 
The  portraits  are  chiefly  second-rate  copies.  The 
exterior  was  cased  with  stone,  in  "  \iTetched  taste," 


in  1757.  The  diary  of  an  Elizabethan  barrister, 
named  Manningham,  preserved  in  the  Harleian 
Miscellanies,  has  preserved  the  interesting  fact  that 
in  this  hall  in  February,  1602 — probably,  says 
Mr.  Collier,  six  months  after  its  first  appearance 
at  the  Globe — Shakespeare's  Tiuelfth  Night  was 
acted. 

"  Feb.  2, 1601  (2). — At  our  feast,"  says  Manning- 
ham,  "  we  had  a  play  called  Twelve  Night,  or  What 
you  Will,  much  like  the  Comedy  of  Errors  or 
Menech?)ii  in  Plaiitus,  but  most  like  and  neere  to 
that  in  Italian  called  Ingamii.  A  good  practice  in 
it  is  to  make  the  steward  believe  his  lady  widdovve 
was  in  love  with  him,  by  counterfayting  a  letter,  as 
from  his  lady,  in  generall  terms  telling  him  what 


The  Temple.] 


THE   FOX   HUNTS  IN   HALL. 


159 


shee  liked  best  in  him,  and  prescribing  his  gestures, 
inscribing  his  apparaile,  &c.,  and  then,  when  he 
came  to  practise,  making  him  beUeve  they  tooke 
him  to  be  mad." 

The  Temple  revels  in  the  olden  time  were  indeed 
gorgeous  outbursts  of  mirth  and  hospitality.  One  of 
the  most  splendid  of  these  took  place  in  the  fourth 
year  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  when  the  queen's  favourite, 
Lord  Robert  Dudley  (afterwards  the  great  Earl  of 
Leicester)  was  elected  Palaphilos,  constable  or 
marshal  of  the  inn,  to  preside  over  the  Christmas 
festivities.  He  had  lord  chancellor  and  judges, 
eighty  guards,  officers  of  the  household,  and  other 
distinguished  persons  to  attend  him ;  and  another 
of  the  queen's  subsequent  favourites,  Christopher 
Hatton — a  handsome  youth,  remarkable  for  his 
skill  in  dancing — was  appointed  master  of  the 
games.  The  daily  banquets  of  the  Constable  were 
announced  by  the  discharge  of  a  double  cannon, 
and  drums  and  fifes  summoned  the  mock  court 
to  the  common  hall,  while  sackbuts,  cornets,  and 
recorders  heralded  the  arrival  of  every  course.  At 
the  first  remove  a  herald  at  the  high  table  cried, — 
"The  mighty  Palaphilos,  Prince  of  Sophie,  High 
Constable,  Marshal  of  the  Knights  Templars, 
Patron  of  the  Honourable  Order  of  Pegasus  ! — 
a  largesse  !  a  largesse  !  "  upon  which  the  Prince  of 
Sophie  tossed  the  man  a  gold  chain  worth  a 
thousand  talents.  The  supper  ended,  the  king- 
at-arms  entered,  and,  doing  homage,  announced 
twenty-four  special  gentlemen,  whom  Pallas  had 
ordered  him  to  present  to  Palaphilos  as  knights- 
elect  of  the  Order  of  Pegasus.  The  twenty-four 
gentlemen  at  once  appeared,  in  long  white  vestures, 
with  scarves  of  Pallas's  colours,  and  the  king-at- 
arms,  bowing  to  each,  explained  to  them  the  laws 
of  the  new  order. 

For  every  feast  the  steward  provided  five  fat 
hams,  with  spices  and  cakes,  and  the  chief  butler 
seven  dozen  gilt  and  silver  spoons,  twelve  damask 
table-cloths,  and  twenty  candlesticks.  The  Con- 
stable wore  gilt  armour  and  a  plumed  helmet, 
and  bore  a  pole-axe  in  his  hands.  On  St. 
Thomas's  Eve  a  parliament  was  held,  when  the 
two  youngest  brothers,  bearing  torches,  preceded 
the  procession  of  benchers,  the  officers'  names 
were  called,  and  the  whole  society  passed  round 
the  hearth  singing  a  carol.  On  Christmas  Eve  the 
minstrels,  sounding,  preceded  the  dishes,  and, 
dinner  done,  sang  a  song  at  the  high  table;  after 
dinner  the  oldest  master  of  the  revels  and  other 
gentlemen  singing  songs. 

On  Christmas  Day  the  feast  grew  still  more 
feudal  and  splendid.  At  the  great  meal  at  noon 
the  minstrels  and  a  long  train  of  servitors  bore  in 


the  blanched  boar's  head,  with  a  golden  lemon  in 
its  jaws,  the  trumpeters  being  preceded  by  two 
gentlemen  in  gowns,  bearing  four  torches  of  white 
wax.  On  St.  Stephen's  Day  the  younger  Templars 
waited  at  table  upon  the  benchers.  At  the  first 
course  the  Constable  entered,  to  the  sound  of 
horns,  preceded  by  sixteen  swaggering  trumpeters, 
while  the  halberdiers  bore  "the  tower"  on  their 
shoulders  and  marched  gravely  three  times  round 
the  fire. 

On  St.  John's  Day  the  Constable  was  up  at  seven, 
and  personally  called  and  reprimanded  any  tardy 
officers,  who  were  sometimes  committed  to  the 
Tower  for  disorder.  If  any  officer  absented  him- 
self at  meals,  any  one  sitting  in  his  place  was 
compelled  to  pay  his  fee  and  assume  his  office. 
Any  offender,  if  he  escaped  into  the  oratory,  could 
claim  sanctuary,  and  was  pardoned  if  he  returned 
into  the  hall  humbly  and  as  a  servitor,  carrying  a 
roll  on  the  point  of  a  knife.  No  one  was  allowed 
to  sing  after  the  cheese  was  served. 

On  Childermas  Day,  New  Year's  Day,  and 
Twelfth  Night  the  same  costly  feasts  were  con- 
tinued, only  that  on  Thursday  there  was  roast 
beef  and  venison  pasty  for  dinner,  and  mutton  and 
roast  hens  were  served  for  supper.  The  final  ban- 
quet closing  all  was  preceded  by  a  dance,  revel, 
play,  or  mask,  the  gentlemen  of  every  Inn  of  Court 
and  Chancery  being  invited,  and  the  hall  furnished 
with  side  scaftblds  for  the  larlies,  who  were  feasted  in 
the  library.  The  Lord  Chancellor  and  the  ancients 
feasted  in  the  hall,  the  Templars  serving.  The 
feast  over,  the  Constable,  in  his  gilt  armour,  ambled 
into  the  hall  on  a  caparisoned  mule,  and  arranged 
the  sequence  of  sports. 

The  Constable  then,  with  three  reverences,  knelt 
before  the  King  of  the  Revels,  and,  delivering  up  his 
naked  sword,  prayed  to  be  taken  into  the  royal 
service.  Next  entered  Hatton,  the  Master  of  the 
Game,  clad  in  green  velvet,  his  rangers  arrayed 
in  green  satin.  Blowing  "  a  blast  of  venery  "  three 
times  on  their  horns,  and  holding  green-coloured 
bows  and  arrows  in  their  hands,  the  rangers  paced 
three  times  round  the  central  fire,  then  knelt  to  the 
King  of  the  Revels,  and  desired  admission  into  the 
royal  service.  Next  ensued  a  strange  and  bar- 
barous ceremony.  A  huntsman  entered  with  a 
live  fox  and  cat  and  nine  or  ten  couple  of  hounds, 
and,  to  the  blast  of  horns  and  wild  shouting,  the 
poor  creatures  were  torn  to  shreds,  for  the  amuse- 
ment of  the  applauding  Templars.  At  supper  the 
Constable  entered  to  the  sound  of  drums,  borne 
upon  a  scaffold  by  four  men,  and  as  he  was  carried 
three  times  round  the  hearth  every  one  shouted, 
"A  lord!  a  lord  I" 


i6o 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Temple. 


He- then   descended,   called  together  his  mock 
court,  by  such  fantastic  names  as — 
Sir  Francis  Flatterer,  of  Fowlershurst,  in  the  county 

of  Buckingham; 
Sir  Randal  Rakabite,  of  Rascal  Hall,  in  the  county 

of  Rakebell ; 
Sir  Morgan  Mumchance,  of  Much  Monkery,  in  the 

county  of  Mad  Mopery ; 
and  the  banquet  then  began,  every  man  having  a 
gilt  pot  full  of  wine,  and  each  one  paying  sixpence 
for  his  repast.  That  night,  when  the  lights  were 
put  out,  the  noisy,  laughing  train  passed  out  of  the 
portal,  and  the  long  revels  were  ended. 

"  Sir  Edward  Coke,"  says  Lord  Campbell,  writing 
of  this  period,  "  first  evinced  his  forensic  powers 
when  'deputed  by  the  students  to  make  a  repre- 
sentation to  the  benchers  of  the  Inner  Temple 
respecting  the  bad  quality  of  their  commons  in  the 
hall.  After  laboriously  studying  the  facts  and  the 
law  of  the  case,  he  clearly  proved  that  the  cook  had 
broken  his  engagement,  and  was  liable  to  be  dis- 
missed. This,  according  to  the  phraseology  of  the 
day,  was  called  '  the  cook's  case,'  and  he  was  said 
to  have  argued  it  with  so  much  quickness  of  pene- 
tration and  solidity  of  judgment,  that  he  gave  entire 
satisfaction  to  the  students,  and  was  much  admired 
by  the  Bench." 

In  his  exquisite  *'  Prothalamion  "  Spenser  alludes 
to  the  Temple  as  if  he  had  sketched  it  from  the 
river,  after  a  visit  to  his  great  patron,  the  Earl  of 
Essex, — 

"Those  bricky  towers. 
The  which  on  Thames'  broad,  aged  back  doe  ride, 
Where  now  the  studious  lawyers  have  their  bowers, 
There  whilom  wont  the  Templar  Knights  to  bide, 
Till  they  decayed  through  pride." 

Sir  John  Davis,  the  author  of  "  Nosce  Teipsum," 
that  fine  mystic  poem  on  the  immortality  of  the 
soul,  and  of  that  strange  philosophical  rhapsody  on 
dancing,  was  expelled  the  Temple  in  Elizabeth's 
reign,  for  thrashing  his  friend,  another  roysterer 
of  the  day,  Mr.  Richard  Martin,  in  the  Middle 
Temple  Hall ;  but  afterwards,  on  proper  submission, 
he  was  readmitted.  Davis  afterwards  reformed,  and 
became  the  wise  Attorney-General  of  Ireland.  His 
biographer  says,  that  the  preface  to  his  "  Irish 
Reports  "  vies  with  Coke  for  solidity  and  Black- 
stone  for  elegance.  Martin  (whose  monument  is 
now  hoarded  up  in  the  Triforium)  also  became  a 
learned  lawyer  and  a  friend  of  Selden's,  and  was 
the  person  to  whom  Ben  Jonson  dedicated  his 
bitter  play,  The  Poetaster.  In  the  dedication  the 
poet  says,  "  For  whose  innocence  as  for  the  author's 
you  were  once  a  noble  and  kindly  undertaker: 
signed,  your  true  lover,  Ben  Jonson." 


On  the  accession  of  James  I.  some  of  his  hungry 
Scotch  courtiers  attempted  to  obtain  from  the  king 
a  grant  of  the  fee-simple  of  the  Temple;  upon 
which  the  two  indignant  societies  made  "  humble 
suit"  to  the  king,  and  obtained  a  grant  of  tlic 
property  to  themselves.  The  grant  was  signed  in 
1609,  the  benchers  paying  jQ\o  annually  to  the 
king  for  the  Inner  Temple,  and  ^10  for  the 
Middle.  In  gratitude  for  this  concession,  the  two 
loyal  societies  presented  his  majesty  with  a  stately 
gold  cup,  weighing  200K  ounces,  which  James 
"most  graciously"  accepted.  On  one  side  was 
engraved  a  temple,  on  the  other  a  flaming  altar, 
with  the  words  ;///  nisi  vobis ;  on  the  pyramidical 
cover-stood  a  Roman  soldier  leaning  on  his  shield. 
This  cup  the  bibulous  monarch  ever  afterwards 
esteemed  as  one  of  his  rarest  and  richest  jewels. 
In  1623  James  issued  another  of  those  absurd  and 
trumpery  sumptuary  edicts,  recommending  the 
ancient  way  of  wearing  caps,  and  requesting  the 
Templars  to  lay  aside  their  unseemly  boots  and 
spurs,  the  badges  of  "  roarers,  rakes,  and  bullies." 

The  Temple  feasts  continued  to  be  as  lavish 
and  magnificent  as  in  the  days  of  Queen  Mary, 
when  no  reader  was  allowed  to  contribute  less  than 
fifteen  bucks  to  the  hall  dinner,  and  many  during 
their  readings  gave  fourscore  or  a  hundred. 

,  On  the  marriage  (16 13)  of  the  Lady  Elizabeth, 
daughter  of  King  James  I.,  Avith  Prince  Frederick, 
the  unfortunate  Elector-Palatine,  the  Temple  and 
Gray's  Inn  men  gave  a  mas(iue,  of  which  Sir  Francis 
Bacon  was  the  chief  contriver.  The  masque  came 
to  Whitehall  by  water  from  Winchester  Place, 
in  Southwark ;  three  peals  of  ordnance  greeting 
them  as  they  embarked  with  torches  and  lamps, 
as  they  passed  the  Temple  Garden,  and  as  they 
landed.  This  short  trip  cost  ;^3oo.  The  king, 
after  all,  was  so  tired,  and  the  hall  so  crowded, 
that  the  masque  was  adjourned  till  the  Saturday 
following,  when  all  went  well.  The  next  night  the 
king  gave  a  supper  to  the  forty  masquers ;  Prince 
Charles  and  his  courtiers,  avIio  had  lost  a  wager 
to  the  king  at  running  at  the  ring,  paying  for  the 
banquet  £,Z'^  3,  man.  The  masquers,  who  dined 
with  forty  of  the  chief  nobles,  kissed  his  majesty's 
hand.  Shortly  after  this  twenty  Templars  fought 
at  barriers,  in  honour  of  Prince  Charles,  the 
benchers  contributing  thirty  shillings  each  to  the 
expenses ;  the  barristers  of  seven  years'  standing, 
fifteen  shillings ;  and  the  other  gentlemen  in  com- 
mons, ten  shillings. 

One  of  the  grandest  masques  ever  given  by  the 
Templars  was  one  which  cost  ;^2 1,000,  and  was  pre- 
sented, in  1633,  to  Charles  I.  and  his  French  queen. 
Bulstrode  Whitelock,  then  in  his  youth,, gives  a  vivid 


The  Temple.] 


THE  READER'S  J^EAST. 


il$i 


picture  of  this  pageant,  which  was  meant  to  refute 
Prynne's  angry  "Histro-Mastix."  Noy  and  Selden 
were  members  of  the  committee,  and  many  grave 
heads  met  together  to  discuss  the  dances,  dresses, 
and  music.  The  music  was  written  by  Milton's 
friend,  Lawes,  the  Ubretto  by  Shirley.  The  pro- 
cession set  out  from  Ely  House,  in  Holborn,  on 
Candlemas  Day,  in  the  evening.  The  four  chariots 
that  bore  the  sixteen  masquers  were  preceded  by 
twenty  footmen  in  silver-laced  scarlet  liveries,  who 
carried  torches  and  cleared  the  way.  After  these 
rode  loo  gentlemen  from  the  Inns  of  Court, 
mounted  and  richly  clad,  every  gendeman  having 
two  lackeys  with  torches  and  a  page  to  carry 
his  cloak.  Then  followed  the  other  masquers — 
beggars  on  horseback  and  boys  dressed  as  birds. 
The  colours  of  the  first  chariot  were  crimson  and 
silver,  the  four  horses  being  plumed  and  trapped 
in  parti-coloured  tissue.  The  Middle  Temple  rode 
next,  in  blue  and  silver ;  and  the  Inner  Temple  and 
Lincoln's  Inn  followed  in  equal  bravery,  loo  of 
the  suits  being  reckoned  to  have  cost  ;^i 0,000. 
The  masque  was  most  perfecdy  performed  in  the 
Banqueting  House  at  Whitehall,  the  Queen  dancing 
with  several  of  the  masquers,  and  declaring  them 
to  be  as  good  dancers  as  ever  she  saw. 

The  year  after  the  Restoration  Sir  Heneage  Finch, 
afterwards  Earl  of  Nottingham,  kept  his  "  reader's 
feast "  in  the  great  hall  of  the  Inner  Temple. 
At  that  time  of  universal  vice,  luxury,  and  extrava- 
gance, the  banquet  lasted  from  the  4th  to  the  T7th 
of  August.  It  Avas,  in  fact,  open  house  to  all 
London.  The  first  day  came  the  nobles  and  privy 
councillors  ;  the  second,  the  Lord  Mayor  and  alder- 
men ;  the  third,  the  whole  College  of  Physicians  in 
their  mortuary  caps  and  gowns;  the  fourth,  the 
doctors  and  advocates  of  civil  law ;  on  the  fifth  day, 
the  archbishops,  bishops,  and  obsequious  clergy; 
and  on  the  fifteenth,  as  a  last  grand  explosion,  the 
King,  the  Duke  of  York,  the  Duke  of  Buckingham, 
and  half  the  peers.  An  entrance  was  made  from 
the  river  through  the  Avail  of  the  Temple  Garden, 
the  King  being  received  on  landing  by  the  Reader 
and  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  of  the  Common  Pleas ; 
the  path  from  the  garden  to  the  wall  was  lined 
with  the  Reader's  servants,  clad  in  scarlet  cloaks 
and  white  doublets ;  while  above  them  stood  the 
benchers,  barristers,  and  students,  music  playing 
all  the  while,  and  twenty  violins  welcoming  Charles 
into  the  hall  with  unanimous  scrape  and  quaver. 
Dinner  was  served  by  fifty  young  students  in  their 
gowns,  no  meaner  servants  appearing.  In  the 
November  following  the  Duke  of  York,  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham,  and  the  Earl  of  Dorset  were 
admitted  members   of  the  Society   of  the   Inner 


Temple.  Six  years  after.  Prince  Rupert,  then  a 
grizzly  old  cavalry  soldier,  and  addicted  to  experi- 
ments in  chemistry  and  engraving  in  his  house  in 
the  Barbican,  received  the  same  honour. 

The  great  fire  of  1666,  says  Mr.  Jeaffreson,  in 
his  "  Law  and  LaAvyers,"  Avas  stayed  in  its  westward 
course  at  the  Temple ;  but  it  Avas  not  suppressed 
until  the  flames  had  consumed  many  sets  of  cham- 
bers, had  devoured  the  title-deeds  of  a  vast  number 
of  valuable  estates,  and  had  almost  licked  the 
Avindows  of  the  Temple  Church.  Clarendon  has 
recorded  that  on  the  occasion  of  this  stupendous 
calamity,  Avhich  occurred  Avhen  aT  large  proportion 
of  the  Templars  were  out  of  town,  the  laAvyers 
in  residence  declined  to  break  open  the  chambers 
and  rescue  the  property  of  absent  members  of  their 
society,  through  fear  of  prosecution  for  burglary. 
Another  great  fire,  some  years  later  (January, 
1678-79),  destroyed  the  old  cloisters  and  part  of  the 
old  hall  of  the  Inner  Temple,  and  the  greater  part 
of  the  residential  buildings  of  the  "Old  Temple." 
Breaking  out  at  midnight,  and  lasting  till  noon  of 
next  day,  it  devoured,  in  the  Middle  Temple,  the 
whole  of  Pump  Court  (in  Avhich  locality  it  origi- 
nated). Elm-tree  Court,  Vine  Court,  and  part  of 
Brick  Court;  in  the  Inner  Temple  the  cloisters, 
the  greater  part  of  Hare  Court,  and  part  of  the  hall. 
The  night  Avas  bitterly  cold,  and  the  Templars, 
aroused  from  their  beds  to  preserve  life  and  pro- 
perty, could  not  get  an  adequate  supply  of  water 
from  the  Thames,  which  the  unusual  severity  of 
the  season  had  frozen.  In  this  difficulty  they 
actually  brought  barrels  of  ale  from  the  Temple 
butteries,  and  fed  the  engines  with  the  malt  liquor. 
Of  course  this  supply  of  fluid  Avas  soon  exhausted, 
so  the  fire  spreading  eastward,  the  laAvyers  fought 
it  by  blowing  up  the  buildings  that  were  in  imme- 
diate danger.  Gunpowder  was  more  effectual  than 
beer;  but  the  explosions  Avere  sadly  destructive 
to  human  life.  Amongst  the  buildings  thus  de- 
molished Avas  the  library  of  the  Inner  Temple. 
Naturally,  but  Avith  no  apparent  good  reason,  the 
sufferers  by  the  fire  attributed  it  to  treachery  on 
the  part  of  persons  unknoAvn,  just  as  the  citizens 
attributed  the  fire  of  1666  to  the  Papists.  It  is  more 
probable  that  the  calamity  was  caused  by  some 
such  accident  as  that  Avhich  occasioned  the  fire 
Avhich,  during  John  Campbell's  attorney-generalship, 
destroyed  a  large  amount  of  valuable  property, 
and  had  its  origin  in  the  clumsiness  of  a  barrister 
who  upset  upon  his  fire  a  vessel  full  of  spirit. 
Of  this  fire  Lord  Campbell  observes  :— "  When 
I  Avas  Attorney-General,  my  chambers  in  Paper 
Buildings,  Temple,  Avere  burnt  to  the  ground  in 
the  night-time,  and  all  my  books  and  manuscripts, 


l62 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Temple.. 


with  some  valuable  official  papers,  were  consumed. 
Above  all,  I  had  to  lament  a  collection  of  letters 
•written  to  me  by  my  dear  father,  from  the  time 
of  my  going  to  college  till  his  death  in  1824.  All 
lamented  this  calamity  except  the  claimant  of  a 
peerage,  some  of  whose  documents  (suspected  to 


chambers,  which  latter  had  been  for  the  benefit  of 
the  Middle  Temple  ;  but,  in  regard  that  it  could 
not  be  done  without  the  consent  of  the  Inner 
Houses,  the  masters  of  the  Middle  Houses  waited 
upon  the  then  Mr.  Attorney  Finch  to  desire  the 
concurrence  of  his  society  upon  a  proposition  of 


THE  OLD   HALL  OF   THE   INNER   TEMPLE   {sCC  page   164). 


be  forged)  he  hoped  were  destroyed;  but  fortu- 
nately they  had  been  removed  into  safe  custody  a 
few  days  before,  and  the  claim  was  dropped." 
The  fire  here  alluded  to  broke  out  in  the  chambers 
of  one  Thombury,  in  Pump  Court. 

"  I  remember,"  says  North  in  his  "  Life  of  Lord 
Keeper  Guildford,"  "that  after  the  fire  of  the 
Temple  it  was  considered  whether  the  old  cloister 
walks  should  be  rebuilt  or  rather  improved  into 


some  benefit  to  be  thrown  in  on  his  side.  But 
Mr.  Attorney  would  by  no  means  give  way  to  it, 
and  reproved  the  Middle  Templars  very  bitterly 
and  eloquently  upon  the  subject  of  students  walking 
in  evenings  there,  and  putting 'cases,' which,  he 
said,  '  was  done  in  his  time,  mean  and  low  as  the 
buildings  were  then.  However,  it  comes,'  he  said, 
'  that  such  a  benefit  to  students  is  now  made  little 
account  of.'     And  thereupon  the  cloisters,  by  the 


The  Temple.] 


MASQUES  IN  THE  TEMPLE. 


163 


Door  from  the  Middle  Temple.  Wig-Shop  in  the  Middle  Temple.  ^~''  ^'""^  '^'^  '"'"=■■  '^"'"^'^I^'^- 

Fireplace  in  the  Inner  Tcmole.  Screen  of  the  Middle  Temple  Hall.        ^  ^f  ^^^  i„„^^  j       ^^^ 


1^4 


OtD     AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Temple. 


order  and   disposition  of   Sir  Christopher  Wren, 
were  built  as  they  now  stand." 

The  last  revel  in  any  of  the  Inns  of  Court 
was  held  in  the  Inner  Temple,  February,  1733 
(George  II.),  in  honour  of  Mr.  Talbot,  a  bencher 
of  that  house,  accepting  the  Great  Seal.  The  cere- 
mony is  described  by  an  eye-witness  in  "  Wynne's 
Eunomus."  The  Lord  Chancellor  arrived  at  two 
o'clock,  preceded  by  Mr.  WoUaston,  Master  of  the 
Revels,  and  followed  by  Dr.  Sherlock,  Bishop  of 
Bangor,  Master  of  the  Temple,  and  the  judges  and 
Serjeants  formerly  of  the  Inner  Temple.  There 
was  an  elegant  dinner  provided  for  them  and  the 
chancellor's  officers,  but  the  barristers  and  students 
had  only  the  usual  meal  of  grand  days,  except  that 
each  man  was  furnished  with  a  flask  of  claret 
besides  the  usual  allowance  of  port  and  sack. 
Fourteen  students  waited  on  the  Bench  table  : 
among  them  was  Mr.  Talbot,  the  Lord  Chancellor's 
eldest  son,  and  by  their  means  any  special  dish 
was  easily  obtainable  from  the  upper  table.  A 
large  gallery  was  built  over  the  screen  for  the 
ladies ;  and  music,  placed  in  the  little  gallery  at  the 
upper  end  of  the  hall,  played  all  dinner-time.  As 
soon  as  dinner  was  over,  the  play  of  Love  for  Love 
and  the  •  farce  of  The  Devil  to  Pay  were  acted,  the 
actors  coming  from  the  Haymarket  in  chaises, 
all  ready-dressed.  It  was  said  they  refused  all 
gratuity,  being  satisfied  with  the  honour  of  per- 
forming before  such  an  audience.  After  the  play, 
the  Lord  Chancellor,  the  Master  of  the  Temple, 
the  judges  and  benchers  retired  into  their  parlia- 
ment chamber,  and  in  about  half  an  hour  after- 
wards came  into  the  hall  again,  and  a  large  ring 
was  formed  round  the  fire-place  (but  no  fire  nor 
embers  were  in  it).  Then  the  Master  of  the  Revels, 
who  went  first,  took  the  Lord  Chancellor  by  the 
right  hand,  and  he  with  his  left  took  Mr.  J  [ustice] 
Page,  who,  joined  to  the  other  judges,  Serjeants, 
and  benchers  present,  danced,  or  rather  walked, 
round  about  the  coal  fire,  according  to  the  old 
ceremony,  three  times,  during  which  they  were  aided 
in  the  figure  of  the  dance  by  Mr,  George  Cooke, 
the  prothonotary,  then  upwards  of  sixty;  and  all 
the  time  of  the  dance  the  ancient  song,  accompanied 
with  music,  was  sung  by  one  Tony  Aston  (an  actor), 
dressed  in  a  bar  gown,  whose  father  had  been  for- 
merly Master  of  the  Plea  Office  in  the  King's  Bench. 
^Vhen  this  was  over,  the  ladies  came  down  from 
the  gallery,  went  into  the  parliament  chamber,  and 
stayed  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  while  the  hall 
was  putting  in  order.  Then  they  went  into  the  hall 
and  danced  a  few  minutes.  Country  dances  began 
about  ten,  and  at  twelve  a  very  fine  collation  was 
provided  for  the  whole  company,  from  which  they 


returned  to  dancing.  The  Prince  of  Wales  honoured 
the  performance  with  his  company  part  of  the  time. 
He  came  into  the  music  gallery  wing  about  the 
middle  of  the  play,  and  went  away  as  soon  as  the 
farce  of  walking  round  the  coal  fire  was  over. 

Mr.  Peter  Cunningham,  apropos  of  these  revels, 
mentions  that  when  the  floor  of  the  Middle  Temple 
Hall  was  taken  up  in  1764  there  were  found  nearly 
one  hundred  pair  of  very  small  dice,  yellowed  by 
time,  which  had  dropped  through  the  chinks  above. 
The  same  writer  caps  this  fact  by  one  of  his  usually 
apposite  quotations.  Wycherly,  in  his  Plain  Dealer 
(1676 — Charles  II.),  makes  Freeman,  one  of  his 
characters,  say: — "Methinks  'tis  like  one  of  the 
Halls  in  Christmas  time,  whither  from  all  parts  fools 
bring  their  money  to  try  the  dice  (nor  the  worst 
judges),  whether  it  shall  be  their  own  or  no." 

The  Inner  Temple  Hall  (the  refectory  of  the 
ancient  knights)  was  almost  entirely  rebuilt  in 
1816.  The  roof  was  overloaded  with  timber,  the 
west  wall  was  cracking,  and  the  wooden  cupola 
of  the  bell  let  in  the  rain.  The  pointed  arches 
and  rude  sculpture  at  the  entrance  doors  showed 
great  antiquity,  but  the  northern  wall  had  been 
rebuilt  in  16S0.  The  incongruous  Doric  screen 
was  surmounted  by  lions'  heads,  cones,  and 
other  anomalous  devices,  and  in  1741  low,  classic 
windows  had  been  inserted  in  the  south  front.  Of 
the  old  hall,  where  the  Templars  frequently  held 
their  chapters,  and  at  different  times  entertained 
King  John,  King  Henry  III.,  and  several  of  the 
legates,  several  portions  still  remain.  A  very 
ancient  groined  Gothic  arch  forms  the  roof  of  the 
present  buttery,  and  in  the  apartment  beyond 
there  is  a  fine  groined  and  vaulted  ceiling.  In  the 
cellars  below  are  old  walls  of  vast  thickness,  part 
of  an  ancient  window,  a  curious  fire-place,  and 
some  pointed  arches,  all  now  choked  with  modern 
brick  partitions  and  dusty  staircases.  These 
vaults  formerly  communicated  by  a  cloister  with 
the  chapel  of  St.  Anne,  on  the  south  side  of  the 
church.  In  the  reign  of  James  I.  some*  brick 
chambers,  three  storeys  high,  were  erected  over 
the  cloister,  but  were  burnt  down  in  1678.  In 
1 68 1  the  cloister  chambers  were  again  rebuilt. 

During  the  formation  of  the  present  new  entrance 
to  the  Temple  by  the  church  at  the  bottom  of 
Inner  Temple  Lane,  when  some  old  houses  were 
removed,  the  masons  came  on  a  strong  ancient  wall 
of  chalk  and  ragstone,  supposed  to  have  been  the 
ancient  northern  boundary  of  the  convent. 

Let  us  cull  a  few  Temple  anecdotes  from  various 
ages  : — 

In  November,  i8i9,Erskine,  in  the  House  of 
Lords,  speaking  upon  Lord  Lansdowne's  motion  for 


Tiw  Temuitji 


COLMAN  AND  JEKYLL. 


'65 


an  inquiry  into  the  state  of  the  country,  condemned 
the  conduct  of  the  yeomanry  at  the  "  Manchester 
massacre."  "  By  an  ordinary  display  of  spirit  and 
resolution,"  observed  the  brilliant  egotist'  to  his 
brother  peers  (who  were  so  impressed  by  his  com- 
placent volubility  and  good-humoured  self-esteem, 
that  they  were  for  the  moment  ready  to  take  him 
at  his  own  valuation),  "insurrection  may  be  re- 
pressed without  violating  the  law  or  the  constitu- 
tion. In  the  riots  of  1780,  when  the  mob  were 
preparing  to  attack  the  house  of  Lord  Mansfield,  I 
offered  to  defend  it  with  a  small  military  force ; 
but  this  offer  was  unluckily  rejected.  Afterwards, 
being  in  the  Temple  when  the  rioters  were  pre- 
paring to  force  the  gate  and  had  fired  several 
times,  I  went  to  the  gate,  opened  it,  and  showed 
them  a  field-piece,  which  I  was  prepared  to  dis- 
charge in  case  the  attack  was  persisted  in.  They 
were  daunted,  fell  back,  and  dispersed." 

Judge  Burrough  (says  Mr.  Jeaffreson,  in  his 
"  Law  and  Lawyers  ")  used  to  relate  that  when  the 
Gordon  Rioters  besieged  the  Temple  he  and  a 
strong  body  of  barristers,  headed  by  a  sergeant 
of  the  Guards,  were  stationed  in  Inner  Temple 
Lane,  and  that,  having  complete  confidence  in  the 
strength  of  their  massive  gate,  they  spoke  bravely 
of  their  desire  to  be  fighting  on  the  other  side.  At 
length  the  gate  was  forced.  The  lawyers  fell  into 
confusion  and  were  about  to  beat  a  retreat,  when 
the  sergeant,  a  man  of  infinite  humour,  cried  out  in 
a  magnificent  voice,  "Take  care  no  gentleman 
fires  from  behind."  The  words  struck  awe  into  the 
assailants  and  caused  the  barristers  to  laugh.  The 
mob,  who  had  expected  neither  laughter  nor  armed 
resistance,  took  to  flight,  telling  all  whom  they  met 
that  the  bloody-minded  lawyers  were  armed  to  the 
teeth  and  enjoying  themselves.  The  Temple  was 
saved.  When  these  Gordon  Rioters  filled  London 
with  alarm,  no  member  of  the  junior  bar  was  more 
prosperous  and  popular  than  handsome  Jack  Scott, 
and  as  he  walked  from  his  house  in  Carey  Street 
to  the  Temple,  with  his  wife  on  his  arm,  he  returned 
the  greetings  of  the  barristers,  who,  besides  liking 
him  for  a  good  fellow,  thought  it  prudent  to  be  on 
good  terms  with  a  man  sure  to  achieve  eminence. 
Dilatory  in  his  early  as  well  as  his  later  years, 
Scott  left  his  house  that  morning  half  an  hour  late. 
Already  it  was  known  to  the  mob  that  the  Templars 
were  assembling  in  their  college,  and  a  cry  of  "  The 
Temple !  kill  the  lawyers  ! "  had  been  raised  in 
Whitefriars  and  Essex  Street.  Before  they  reached 
the  Middle  Temple  gate  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Scott  were 
assaulted  more  than  once.  The  man  who  won 
Bessie  Surtees  from  a  host  of  rivals  and  carried  her 
away  against  the  will  of  her  parents  and  the  wishes 


of  his  own  father,  was  able  to  protect  her  from 
serious  violence.  But  before  the  beautiful  creatufe 
was  safe  within  the  Temple  her  dress  was  torn,  and 
when  at  length  she  stood  in  the  centre  of  a  crowd 
of  excited  and  admiring  barristers,  her  head  was 
bare  and  her  ringlets  fell  loose  upon  her  shoulders. 
"  The  scoundrels  have  got  your  hat,  Bessie,"  whis- 
pered John  Scott ;  "  but  never  mind — they  have  left 
you  your  hair." 

In  Lord  Eldon's  "Anecdote  Book"  there  is 
another  gate  story  amongst  the  notes  on  the 
Gordon  Riots.  "We  youngsters,"  says  the  aged 
lawyer,  "  at  the  Temple  determined  that  we  would 
not  remain  inactive  during  such  times ;  so  we  intro- 
duced ourselves  into  a  troop  to  assist  the  military. 
We  armed  ourselves  as  well  as  we  could,  and  next 
morning  we  drew  up  in  the  court  ready  to  follow 
out  a  troop  of  soldiers  who  were  on  guard.  When, 
however,  the  soldiers  had  passed  through  the  gate  it 
was  suddenly  shut  in  our  faces,  and  the  ofliicer  in 
command  shouted  from  the  other  side,  'Gentle- 
men, I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  intended 
assistance;  but  I  do  not  choose  to  allow  my  soldiers 
to  be  shot,  so  I  have  ordered  you  to  be  locked 
in.' "     And  away  he  galloped. 

The  elder  Colman  decided  on  making  the 
younger  one  a  barrister ;  and  after  visits  to  Scot- 
land and  Switzerland,  the  son  returned  to  Soho 
Square,  and  found  that  his  father  had  taken  for 
him  chambers  in  the  Temple,  and  entered  him  as  a 
student  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  where  he  afterwards  kept 
a  few  terms  by  eating  oysters.  Upon  this  Mr. 
Peake  notes  : — "  The  students  of  Lincoln's  Inn 
keep  term  by  dining,  or  pretending  to  dine,  in  the 
hall  during  the  term  time.  Those  who  feed  there 
are  accommodated  with  wooden  trenchers  instead 
of  plat.es,  and  previously  to  the  dinner  oysters  are 
served  up  by  way  of  prologue  to  the  play.  Eating 
the  oysters,  or  going  into  the  hall  without  eating 
them,  if  you  please,  and  then  departing  to  dine 
elsewhere,  is  quite  sufficient  for  term-keeping."' 
The  chambers  in  King's  Bench  Walk  were  fur- 
nished with  a  tent-bedstead,  two  tables,  half-a-dozen 
chairs,  and  a  carpet  as  much  too  scanty  for  the 
boards  as  Sheridan's  "  rivulet  of  rhyme  "  for  its 
"  meadow  of  margin."  To  these  the  elder  Colman 
added  j^io  worth  of  law  books  which  had  been 
given  to  him  in  his  own  Lincoln's  Inn  days  by 
Lord  Bath  ;  then  enjoining  the  son  to  work  hard, 
the  father  left  town  upon  a  party  of  pleasure. 

Colman  had  sent  his  son  to  Switzerland  to  get 
him  away  from  a  certain  Miss  Catherine  Morris,  an 
actress  of  the  Haymarket  company.  This  answered 
for  a  time,  but  no  sooner  had  the  father  left  the 
son  in  the  Temple  than  he  set  ofif  with  Miss  Morris 


i66 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Temple. 


to  Gretna  Green,  and  was  there  married,  in  1784 ; 
and  four  years  after,  the  father's  sanction  having 
been  duly  obtained,  they  were  pubUcly  married  at 
Chelsea  Church^ 

In  the  same  staircase  ^vith  Colman,  in  the 
Temple,  lived  the  Avitty  Jekyll,  who,  seeing  in 
Colman's  chambers  a  round  cage  with  a  squirrel  in 
it,  looked  for  a  minute  or  two  at  the  little  animal, 
which  was  performing  the  same  operation  as  a  man 
in  the  treadmill,  and  then  quietly  said,  "  Ah,  poor 
devil !  he  is  going  the  Home  Circuit ;"  the  locality 
where  it  was  uttered — the  Temple — favouring  this 
technical  joke. 

On  the  morning  young  Colman  began  his  studies 
(December  20,  1784)  he  was  interrupted  by  the 
intelligence  that  the  funeral  procession  of  the  great 
Dr.  Johnson  was  on  its  way  from  his  late  residence. 
Bolt  Court,  through  Fleet  Street,  to  Westminster 
Abbey.  Colman  at  once  threw  down  his  pen, 
and  ran  forth  to  see  the  procession,  but  was  disap- 
pointed to  find  it  much  less  splendid  and  imposing 
than  the  sepulchral  pomp  of  Garrick  five  years 
before. 

Dr.  Dibdin  thus  describes  the  Garden  walks  of 
the  last  century: — "Towards  evening  it  was  the 
fashion  for  the  leading  counsel  to  promenade 
during  the  summer  months  in  the  Temple  Gardens. 
Cocked  hats  and  ruffles,  with  satin  small-clothes 
and  silk  stockings,  at  this  time  constituted  the  usual 
evening  dress.  Lord  Erskine,  though  a  great  deal 
shorter  than  his  brethren,  somehow  always  seemed 
to  take  the  lead,  both  in  place  and  in  discourse, 
and  shouts  of  laughter  would  frequently  follow  his 
dicta." 

Ugly  Dunning,  afterwards  the  famous  Lord  Ash- 
burton,  entered  the  Middle  Temple  in  1752,  and 
was  called  four  years  later,  in  1756.  Lord  Chan- 
cellor Thurlow  used  to  describe  him  wittily  as  "  the 
knave  of  clubs." 

Home  Tooke,  Dunning,  and  Kenyon  were  accus- 
tomed to  dine  together,  during  the  vacation,  at  a 
little  eating-house  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Chan- 
cery Lane  for  the  sum  of  sevenpence-halfpenny 
each.  "  As  to  Dunning  and  myself,"  said  Tooke, 
"we  were  generous,  for  we  gave  the  girl  who 
waited  upon  us  a  penny  a  piece ;  but  Kenyon,  who 
always  knew  the  value  of  money,  sometimes  re- 
warded her  with  a  halfpenny,  and  sometimes  with  a 
promise." 

Blackstone,  before  dedicating  his  powers  finally 
to  the  study  Df  the  law  in  which  he  afterwards 
became  so  famous,  wrote  in  Temple  chambers  his 
"Farewell  to  the  Muse:" — 

"  Lulled  by  the  lapse  of  gliding  floods, 
Cheer'd  by  the  warbling  of  the  woods, 


How  blest  my  days,  my  thoughts  how  free, 
In  sweet  society  with  thee  ! 
Then  all  was  joyous,  all  was  young. 
And  years  unheeded  roU'd  along  ; 
But  now  the  pleasing  dream  is  o'er — 
These  scenes  must  charm  me  now  no  more. 
Lost  to  the  field,  and  torn  from  you, 
Farewell ! — a  long,  a  last  adieu ! 
«  •  «  • 

Then  welcome  business,  welcome  strife, 
Welcome  the  cares,  the  thorns  of  life, 
The  visage  wan,  the  purblind  sight, 
The  toil  by  day,  the  lamp  by  night, 
The  tedious  forms,  the  solemn  prate, 
The  pert  dispute,  the  dull  debate, 
The  drowsy  bench,  the  babbling  hall, — 
For  thee,  fair  Justice,  welcome  all  ! " 

That  great  orator,  Edmund  Burke,  was  entered 
at  the  Middle  Temple  in  1747,  when  the  heads  of 
the  Scotch  rebels  of  1745  were  still  fresh  on  the 
spikes  of  Temple  Bar,  and  he  afterwards  came  to 
keep  his  terms  in  1750.  In  1756  he  occupied  a 
two-pair  chamber  at  the  "  Pope's  Head,"  the  shop 
of  Jacob  Robinson,  the  Twickenham  poet's  pub- 
lisher, just  within  the  Inner  Temple  gateway. 
Burke  took  a  dislike,  however,  perhaps  fortunately 
for  posterity,  to  the  calf-skin  books,  and  was  never 
called  to  the  bar. 

Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan,  an  Irishman  even 
more  brilliant,  but  unfortunately  far  less  prudent, 
than  Burke,  entered  his  name  in  the  Middle  Temple 
books  a  few  daj  s  before  his  elopement  with  Miss 
Linley. 

"A  wit,"  says  Archdeacon  Nares,  in  his  pleasant 
book,  "  Heraldic  Anomalies,"  "  once  chalked  the 
following  hues  on  the  Temple  gate  :" — 

"  As  by  the  Templars'  hold  you  go. 
The  horse  and  lamb  display'd 
In  emblematic  figures  show 
The  merits  of  their  trade. 

'■'  The  clients  may  infer  from  thence 
How  just  is  their  profession; 
The  lamb  sets  forth  their  innocence, 
The  horse  their  expedition. 

"  Oh,  happy  Britons  !  happy  isle  ! 
Let  foreign  nations  say, 
Where  you  get  justice  without  guile 
And  law  without  delay." 

A  rival  wag  replied  to  these  lively  lines  by  the 
following  severer  ones : — 

"  Deluded  men,  these  holds  forego. 
Nor  trust  such  cunning  elves ; 
These  artful  emblems  tend  to  show 
Their  clients — not  themselves. 

"  'Tis  all  a  trick  ;  these  are  all  shams 
.  By  which  they  mean  to  cheat  you  : 
But  have  a  care — (or  you^ re  the  lamds, 
And  they  the  wolves  that  eat  you, 


Tlie  Temple.] 


JOHNSON   IN   INNER  TEMPLE  LANE. 


167 


'•  Nor  let  the  thought  of  '  no  delay ' 

To  these  their  courts  misguide  you  j 
*Tis  you're  the  showy  horse,  and  they 
'^\iQ  jockeys  that  will  ride  you." 

Hare  Court  is  said  to  derive  its  name  from 
Sir  Nicholas  Hare,  who  was  Privy  Councillor 
to  Henry  VIII.  the  despotic,  and  Master  of  the 
Rolls  to  Queen  Mary  the  cruel.  Heaven  only 
knows  what  stern  decisions  and  anti-heretical  in- 
dictments have  not  been  drawn  up  in  that  quaint 
enclosure.  The  immortal  pump,  which  stands  as 
a  special  feature  of  the  court,  has  been  mentioned 
by  the  poet  Garth  in  his  *'  Dispensary  :" — 

"  And  dare  the  college  insolently  aim, 
To  equal  our  fraternity  in  fame  ? 
Then  let  crabs'  eyes  with  pearl  for  virtue  try, 
Or  Highgate  Hill  with  lofty  Pindus  vie  ; 
So  glowworms  may  compare  with  Titan's  beams, 
And  Hare  Court  pump  with  Aganippe's  streams," 

In  Essex  Court  one  solitary  barber  remains : 
his  shop  is  the  last  wigwam  of  a  departing  tribe. 
Dick  Danby's,  in  the  cloisters,  used  to  be  famous. 
In  his  "  Lives  of  the  Chief  Justices,"  Lord  Camp- 
bell has  some  pleasant  gossip  about  Dick  Danby, 
the  Temple  barber.  In  our  group  of  antiquities 
of  the  Temple  on  page  163  will  be  found  an 
engraving  of  the  existing  barber's  shop. 

"One  of  the  most  intimate  friends,"  he  says,  "  I 
have  ever  had  in  the  world  was  Dick  Danby,  who 
kept  a  hairdresser's  shop  under  the  cloisters  in  the' 
Inner  Temple.  I  first  made  his  acquaintance  from 
his  assisting  me,  when  a  student  at  law,  to  engage 
a  set  of  chambers.  He  afterwards  cut  my  hair, 
made  my  bar  wigs,  and  aided  me  at  all  times  with 
his  valuable  advice.  He  was  on  the  same  good 
terms  with  most  of  my  forensic  contemporaries. 
Thus  he  became  master  of  all  the  news  of  the  pro- 
fession, and  he  could  tell  who  were  getting  on,  and 
who  were  without  a  brief — who  succeeded  by  their 
talents,  and  who  hugged  the  attorneys — who  were 
desirous  of  becoming  puisne  judges,  and  who  meant 
to  try  their  fortunes  in  Parliament — which  of  the 
chiefs  was  in  a  failing  state  of  health,  and  who  was 
next  to  be  promoted  to  the  collar  of  S.S.  Poor 
fellow  !  he  died  suddenly,  and  his  death  threw  a 
universal  gloom  over  Westminster  Hall,  unrelieved 
by  the  thought  that  the  survivors  who  mourned  him 
might  pick  up  some  of  his  business — a  consolation 
which  wonderfully  softens  the  grief  felt  for  a 
favourite  Nisi  Prius  leader." 

In  spite  of  all  the  great  lawyers  who  have  been 
nurtured  in  the  Temple,  it  has  derived  its  chief 
fame  from  the  residence  within  its  precincts  of 
three  civilians  —  Dr.  Johnson,  Goldsmith,  and 
Charles  Lamb. 


Dr.  Johnson  came  to  the  Temple  (No,  i,  Inner 
Temple  Lane)  from  Gray's  Inn  in  1760,  and  left 
it  for  Johnson's  Court  (Fleet  Street)  about  1765. 
When  he  first  came  to  the  Temple  he  was  loiter- 
ing over  his  edition  of  "  Shakespeare."  In  1762  a 
pension  of  £,zoo  a  year  for  the  first  time  made 
him  independent  of  the  booksellers.  In  1763 
Boswell  made  his  acquaintance  and  visited  Ursa 
Major  in  his  den.- 

"  It  must  be  confessed,"  says  Boswell,  "  that 
his  apartments,  furniture,  and  morning  dress  were 
sufficiently  uncouth.  His  brown  suit  of  clothes 
looked  very  rusty ;  he  had  on  a  little  old  shrivelled, 
unpowdered  wig,  which  was  too  small  for  his  head ; 
his  shirt  neck  and  the  knees  of  his  breeches  were 
loose,  his  black  worsted  stockings  ill  drawn  up, 
and  he  had  a  pair  of  unbuckled  shoes  by  way  of 
slippers." 

At  this  time  Johnson  generally  went  abroad  at 
four  in  the  afternoon,  and  seldom  came  home  till 
two  in  the  morning.  He  owned  it  was  a  bad  habit. 
He  generally  had  a  levee  of  morning  visitors, 
chiefly  men  of  letters — Hawkesworth,  Goldsmith, 
Murphy,  Langton,  Stevens,  Beauclerk,  &c, — and 
sometimes  learned  ladies,  "When  Madame  de 
Bouffiers  (the  mistress  of  the  Prince  of  Conti)  was 
first  in  England,"  said  Beauclerk,  "  she  was  desirous 
to  see  Johnson.  I  accordingly  went  with  her  to 
his  chambers  in  the  Temple,  where  she  was  enter- 
tained with  his  conversation  for  some  time.  When 
our  visit  was  over,  she  and  I  left  him,  and  were  got 
into  Inner  Temple  Lane,  when  all  at  once  I  heard 
a  voice  like  thunder.  This  was  occasioned  by 
Johnson,  who,  it  seems,  upon  a  little  reflection, 
had  taken  it  into  his  head  that  he  ought  to  have 
done  the  honours  of  his  literary  residence  to  a 
foreign  lady  of  quality,  and,  eager  to  show  himself 
a  man  of  gallantry,  was  hurrying  down  the  staircase 
in  violent  agitation.  He  overtook  us  before  we 
reached  the  Temple  Gate,  and,  brushing  in  between 
me  and  Madame  de  Bouffiers,  seized  her  hand 
and  conducted  her  to  her  coach.  His  dress  was  a 
rusty-brown  morning  suit,  a  pair  of  old  shoes  by 
way  of  slippers,  &c.  A  considerable  crowd  of 
people  gathered  round,  and  were  not  a  little  struck 
by  his  singular  appearance," 

It  was  in  the  year  1763,  while  Johnson  was 
living  in  the  Temple,  that  the  Literary  Club  was 
founded;  and  it  was  in  the  following  year  that 
this  wise  and  good  man  was  seized  with  one  of 
those  fits  of  hypochondria  that  occasionally  weighed 
upon  that  great  intellect.  Boswell  had  chambers, 
not  far  from  the  god  of  his  idolatry,  at  what  were 
once  cafled  "  Farrar's  Buildings,"  at  the  bottom  of 
Inner  Temple  Lane. 


i68 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


(The  Temple. 


Charles  Lamb  came  to  4,  Inner  Temple  Lane,  in 
1809.  Writing  to  Coleridge,  the  delightful  humorist 
says  : — "  I  have  been  turned  out  of  my  chambers  in 
the  Temple  by  a  landlord  who  wanted  them  for  him- 
self; but  I  have  got  others  at  No.  4,  Inner  Temple 
Lane,  far  more  commodious  and  roomy.  I  have 
two  rooms  on  the  third  floor,  and  five  rooms  above, 
with   an   inner   staircase   to   myself,  and  all  new 


best  room  commands  a  court,  in  which  there  are 
trees  and  a  pump,  the  water  of  which  is  excellent,- 
cold — with  brandy ;  and  not  very  insipid  without." 
He  sends  Manning  some  of  his  httle  books,  to 
give  him  "  some  idea  of  European  literature."  It 
is  in  this  letter  that  he  speaks  of  Braham  and  his 
singing,  and  jokes  "on  tides  of  honour,"  exem- 
plifying the  eleven  gradations,  by  which   Mr.  C. 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH  {seepage  167). 


painted,  &c.,  for  ;^3o  a  year.  The  rooms  are 
delicious,  and  the  best  look  backwards  into  Hare 
Court,  where  there  is  a  pump  always  going;  just 
now  it  is  dry.  Hare  Court's  trees  come  in  at  the 
window,  so  that  it's  like  living  in  a  garden."  In 
1810  he  says  : — "The  household  gods  are  slow  to 
come ;  but  here  I  mean  to  live  and  die."  From 
this  place  (since  pulled  down  and  rebuilt)  he  writes 
to  Manning,  who  is  in  China : — "  Come,  and  bring 
any  of  your  friends  the  mandarins  with  you.     My 


Lamb  rose  in  succession  to  be  Baron,  Marquis, 
Duke,  Emperor  Lamb,  and  finally  Pope  Innocent  j 
and  other  lively  matters  fit  to  solace  an  English 
mathematician  self-banished  to  China.  The  same 
year  Mary  Lamb  describes  her  brother  taking 
to  water  like  a  hungry  otter — abstaining  from  all 
spirituous  liquors,  but  with  the  most  indifferent 
result,  as  he  became  full  of  cramps  and  rheumatism, 
and  so  cold  internally  that  fire  could  not  warm 
him.     It  is  but  just  to  Lamb  to  mention  that  this 


The  Temple.] 


GOLDSMITH   LAUNCHING   OUT. 


169 


ascetic  period  was  brief.  This  same  year  Lamb 
wrote  his  fine  essays  on  Hogarth  and  the  tragedies 
of  Shakespeare.  He  was  already  getting  weary 
of  the  dull  routine  of  official  work  at  the  India 
House. 

Goldsmith  came  to  the  Temple,  early  in  1764, 
from  Wine  Office  Court.  It  was  a  hard  year  with 
him,  though  he  published   "The  Traveller,"  and 


some  say,  to  secretly  write  the  erudite  history  of 
"Goody  Two-Shoes"  for  Newbery.  In  1765 
various  publications,  or  perhaps  the  money  for 
"  The  Vicar,"  enabled  the  author  to  move  to  larger 
chambers  in  Garden  Court,  close  to  his  first  set, 
and  one  of  the  most  agreeable  localities  in  the 
Temple.  He  now  carried  out  his  threat  to  John- 
son—started a  man-servant,  and  ran  into  debt  with 


goldsmith's  tomb  in  i860  {see page  171). 


opened  fruitless  negotiations  with  Dodsley  and 
Tonson.  "  He  took,"  says  Mr.  Forster,  "  rooms  on 
the  then  library-staircase  of  the  Temple.  They 
were  a  humble  set  of  chambers  enough  (one  Jeffs, 
the  butler  of  the  society,  shared  them  with  him), 
and  on  Johnson's  prying  and  peering  about  in 
them,  after  his  short-sighted  fashion  flattening  his 
face  against  every  object  he  looked  at.  Gold- 
smith's uneasy  sense  of  their  deficiencies  broke 
out.  'I  shall  soon  be  in  better  chambers,  sir, 
than  these,'  he  said.  *  Nay,  sir,'  answered  Johnson, 
'never  mind  that — nil  ie  qucBsiveris  extra.' ^^  He 
soon  hurried  off  to  the  quiet  of  Islington,  as 
16 


his  usual  gay  and  thoughtless  vanity  to  Mr.  Filby, 
the  tailor,  of  Water  Lane,  for  coats  of  divers 
colours.  Goldsmith  began  to  feel  his  importance, 
and  determined  to  show  it.  In  1766  "The 
Vicar  of  Wakefield  "  (price  five  shillings,  sewed) 
secured  his  fame,  but  he  still  remained  in  diffi- 
culties. In  1767  he  \NTote  The  Good-Natured 
Man,  knocked  off  an  English  Grammar  for  five 
guineas,  and  was  only  saved  from  extreme  want 
by  Davies  employing  him  to  write  a  "  History  of 
Kome"  for  250  guineas.  In  1767  Parson  Scott 
(Lord  Sandwich's  chaplain),  busily  going  about  to 
negotiate  for  writers,  describes  himself  as  applying 


17© 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Temple. 


to  Goldsmith,  among  others,  to  induce  him  to  write 
in  favour  of  the  Administration.  "  I  found  him," 
he  said,  "  in  a  miserable  set  of  chambers  in  the 
Temple.  I  told  him  my  authority;  I  told  him 
that  I  was  empowered  to  pay  most  liberally  for 
his  exertions ;  and — would  you  believe  it ! — he  was 
so  absurd  as  to  say,  '  I  can  earn  as  much  as  will 
supply  my  wants  without  Avriting  for  any  party; 
the  assistance  you  offer  is  therefore  unnecessary 
to  me.'  And  so  I  left  him,"  added  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Scott,  indignantly,  "  in  his  garret." 

On  the  partial  success  of  The  Good-Natured 
Man  (January,  1768),  Goldsmith,  having  cleared 
;^5oo,  broke  out  like  a  successful  gambler.  He 
purchased  a  set  of  chambers  (No.  2,  up  two 
pairs  of  stairs,  in  Brick  Court)  for  ;^4oo,  squan- 
dered the  remaining  ;^ioo,  ran  in  debt  to  his 
tailor,  and  borrowed  of  Mr.  Bolt,  a  man  on  the 
same  floor.  He  purchased  Wilton  carpets,  blue 
merino  curtains,  chimney-glasses,  book-cases,  and 
card-tables,  and,  by  the  aid  of  Filby,  enrobed  him 
in  a  suit  of  Tyrian  bloom,  satin  grain,  with  darker 
blue  silk  breeches,  price  £6  2s.  7d.,  and  he  even 
ventured  at  a  more  costly  suit,  lined  with  silk 
and  ornamented  with  gilt  buttons.  Below  him 
lived  that  learned  lawyer,  Mr.  Blackstone,  then 
poring  over  the  fourth  volume  of  his  precious 
"Commentaries,"  and  the  noise  and  dancing  over- 
head nearly  drove  him  mad,  as  it  also  did  a  Mr. 
Children,  who  succeeded  him.  What  these  noises 
arose  from,  Mr.  Forster  relates  in  his  delightful 
biography  of  the  poet.  An  Irish  merchant  named 
Seguin  **  remembered  dinners  at  which  John- 
son, Percy,  Bickerstaff,  Kelly,  'and  a  variety  of 
authors  of  minor  note,'  were  guests.  They  talked 
of  supper-parties  with  younger  people,  as  well  in 
the  London  chambers  as  in  suburban  lodgings ; 
preceded  by  blind-man's  buff,  forfeits,  or  games  of 
cards ;  and  where  Goldsmith,  festively  entertaining 
them  all,  would  make  frugal  supper  for  himself  off 
boiled  milk.  They  related  how  he  would  sing  all 
kinds  of  Irish  songs  ;  with  what  special  enjoyment 
he  gave  the  Scotch  ballad  of  '  Johnny  Armstrong ' 
(his  old  nurse's  favourite) ;  how  cheerfully  he  would 
put  the  front  of  his  wig  behind,  or  contribute  in 
any  other  way  to  the  general  amusement ;  and  to 
what  accompaniment  of  uncontrolled  laughter  he 
once  *  danced  a  minuet  with  Mrs.  Seguin.' " 

In  1768  appeared  "The  Deserted  Village."  It 
v/as  about  this  time  that  one  of  Goldy's  Gmb  Street 
acquaintances  called  upon  him,  whilst  he  was 
conversing  with  Topham  Beauclerk,  and  General 
Oglethorpe,  and  the  fellow,  telling  Goldsmith  that 
he  was  sorry  he  could  not  pay  the  two  guineas  he 
owed  him,  offered  him  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  tea 


and  half  a  pound  of  sugar  as  an  acknowledgment 
"  1769.  Goldsmith  fell  in  love  with  Mary  Horneck 
known  as  the  '  Jessamy  Bride.'  Unfortunately  he 
obtained  an  advance  of  ;^5oo  for  his  'Natural 
History,'  and  wholly  expended  it  when  only  six 
chapters  were  written."  In  1771  he  published 
his  "  History  of  England."  It  was  in  this  year  that 
Reynolds,  coming  one  day  to  Brick  Court,  perhaps 
about  the  portrait  of  Goldsmith  he  had  painted 
the  year  before,  found  the  mercurial  poet  kicking  a 
bundle,  which  contained  a  masquerade  dress,  about 
the  room,  in  disgust  at  his  folly  in  wasting  money  in 
so  foolish  a  way.  In  1772,  Mr.  Forster  mentions  a 
very  characteristic  story  of  Goldsmith's  warmth  of 
heart.  He  one  day  found  a  poor  Irish  student 
(afterwards  Dr.  M'Veagh  M'Donnell,  a  well-known 
physician)  sitting  and  moping  in  despair  on  a 
bench  in  the  Temple  Gardens.  Goldsmith  soon 
talked  and  laughed  him  into  hope  and  spirits, 
then  taking  him  off  to  his  chambers,  employed  him 
to  translate  some  chapters  of  Bufifon.  In  1773 
She  Stoops  to  Co?iquer  made  a  great  hit ;  but  Noll 
was  still  writing  at  hack-work,  and  was  deeper 
in  debt  than  ever.  In  1774,  when  Goldsmith  was 
still  grinding  on  at  his  hopeless  drudge-work,  as  far 
from  the  goal  of  fortune  as  ever,  and  even  resolving 
to  abandon  London  life,  with  all  its  temptations, 
Mr.  Forster  relates  that  Johnson,  dining  with  the 
poet,  Reynolds,  and  some  one  else,  silently  reproved 
the  extravagance  of  so  expensive  a  dinner  by  send- 
ing away  the  whole  second  course  untouched. 

In  March,  1774,  Goldsmith  returned  from  Edg- 
ware  to  the  Temple  chambers,  which  he  was  trying 
to  sell,  suffering  from  a  low  nervous  fever,  partly 
the  result  of  vexation  at  his  pecuniary  embarrass- 
ments. Mr.  Hawes,  an  apothecary  in  the  Strand 
(and  one  of  the  first  fovmders  of  the  Humane 
Society),  was  called  in;  but  Goldsmith  insisted  on 
taking  James's  fever-powders,  a  valuable  medicine, 
but  dangerous  under  the  circumstances.  This  was 
Friday,  the  25th.  He  told  the  doctor  then  his  mind 
was  not  at  ease,  and  he  died  on  Monday,  April  4th, 
in  his  forty-fifth  year.  His  debts  amounted  to 
oyer  ^^2,000.  "  Was  ever  poet  so  trusted  before?" 
writes  Johnson  to  Boswell.  The  staircase  of  Brick 
Court  was  filled  with  poor  outcasts,  to  whom  Gold- 
smith had  been  kind  and  charitable.  His  coffin  was 
opened  by  Miss  Horneck,  that  a  lock  might  be  cut 
from  his  hair.  Burke  and  Reynolds  superintended 
the  funeral,  Reynolds'  nephew  (Palmer,  afterwards 
Dean  of  Cashel)  being  chief  mourner.  Hugh 
Kelly,  who  had  so  often  lampooned  the  poet,  was 
present.  At  five  o'clock  on  Saturday,  the  9th  of 
April,  Goldsmith  was  buried  in  the  Temple  church- 
yard.    In    1837,  a  slab  of  white   marble,  to   the 


The  Temple.] 


THE  TEMPLE   FOUNTAIN. 


171 


kindly  poet's  memory,  was  placed  in  the  Temple 
Church,  and  afterwards  transferred  to  a  recess  of 
tlie  vestry  chamber.  Of  the  poet,  Mr,  Forster 
says,  "no  memorial  indicates  the  grave  to  the 
pilgrim  or  the  stranger,  nor  is  it  possible  any  longer 
to  identify  the  spot  which  received  all  that  was 
mortal  of  the  delightful  writer."  The  present  site 
is  entirely  conjectural;  but  it  appears  from  the 
following  note,  communicated  to  us  by  T.  C.  Noble, 
the  well-known  City  antiquary,  that  the  real  site 
was  remembered  as  late  as  1830.  Mr.  Noble 
says  : — 

"  In  1842,  after  some  consideration,  the  benchers 
of  the  Temple  deciding  that  no  more  burials  should 
take  place  in  the  churchyard,  resolved  to  pave  it 
over.  For  about  fifteen  years  the  burial-place  of  Dr. 
Goldsmith  continued  in  obscurity ;  for  while  some 
would  have  it  that  the  interment  took  place  to 
the  east  of  the  choir,  others  clung  to  an  opinion, 
handed  down  by  Mr.  Broome,  the  gardener,  who 
stated  that  when  he  commenced  his  duties,  about 
1830,  a  Mr.  CoUett,  sexton,  a  very  old  man,  and  a 
penurious  one,  too,  employed  him  to  prune  an 
elder-tree  which,  he  stated,  he  venerated,  because 


it  marked  the  site  of  Goldsmith's  grave.  The 
stone  which  has  been  placed  in  the  yard,  '  to  mark 
the  spot'  where  the  poet  was  buried,  is  not  the 
site  of  this  tree.  The  tomb  was  erected  in  i860, 
but  the  exact  position  of  the  grave  has  never  been 
discovered."  The  engraving  on  page  169  shows 
the  spot  as  it  appeared  in  the  autumn  of  that  year. 
The  old  houses  at  the  back  were  pulled  down 
soon  after. 

Mr.  Forster,  alluding  to  Goldsmith's  love  for  the 
rooks,  the  former  denizens  of  the  Temple  Gardens, 
says  :  "He  saw  the  rookery  (in  the  winter  deserted, or 
guarded  only  by  some  five  or  six,  '  like  old  soldiers 
in  a  garrison ')  resume  its  activity  and  bustle  in  the 
spring;  and  he  moralised,  like  a  great  reformer, 
on  the  legal  constitution  established,  the  social 
laws  enforced,  and  the  particular  castigations  en- 
dured for  the  good  of  the  community,  by  those 
black-dressed  and  black-eyed  chatterers.  *  I  have 
often  amused  myself,'  Goldsmith  remarks,  'with 
observing  their  plans  of  policy  from  my  window 
in  the  Temple,  that  looks  upon  a  grove  where 
they  have  made  a  colony,  in  the  midst  of  the 
city.'" 


CHAPTER    XVI. 
THE   TEMPLE   {continued). 

Fountain  Court  and  the  Temple  Fountain— Ruth  Pinch— L.  E.  L.'s  Poem— Fig-tree  Court— The  Inner  Temple  Library— Paper  Buildings— The 
Temple  Gate — Guildford  North  and  Jeffreys— Cowper,  the  Poet :  his  Melancholy  and  Attempted  Suicide— A  Tragedy  in  Tanfield  Court — 
Lord  Mansfield — "Mr.  Murray"  and  his  Client — Lamb's  Pictures  of  the  Temple — The  Sun-dials— Porson  and  his  Eccentricities — Rules  of. 
the  Temple — Coke  and  his  Labours — Temple  Riots — Scuffles  with  the  Alsatians — Temple  Dinners— "  Calling"  to  the  Bar — The  Tempi* 
Gardens — The  Chrysanthemums — Sir  Matthew  Hale's  'J'ree — Revenues  of  the  Temple — Temple  Celebrities. 


Lives  there  a  man  with  soul  so  dead  as  to  write 
about  the  Temple  without  mentioning  the  little 
fountain  in  Fountain  Court  ? — that  pet  and  play- 
thing of  the  Temple,  that,  like  a  little  fairy,  sings  to 
beguile  the  cares  of  men  oppressed  with  legal 
duties.  It  used  to  look  like  a  wagoner's  silver 
whip — now  a  modern  writer  cruelly  calls  it  "  a  pert 
squirt."  In  Queen  Anne's  time  Hatton  describes 
it  as  forcing  its  stream  "to  a  vast  and  almost 
incredible  altitude  " — it  is  now  only  ten  feet  high, 
no  higher  than  a  giant  lord  chancellor.  Then  it 
was  fenced  with  palisades — now  it  is  caged  in  iron  ; 
then  it  stood  in  a  square — now  it  is  in  a  round.  But 
it  still  sparkles  and  glitters,  and  sprinkles  and  play- 
fully splashes  the  jaunty  sparrows  that  come  to 
wash  off  the  London  dust  in  its  variegated  spray. 
It  is  quite  careless  now,  however,  of  notice,  for  has 
it  not  been  immortalised  by  the  pen  of  Dickens, 
who  has  made  it  the  centre  of  one  of  his  most 


charming  love  scenes  ?  It  was  in  Fountain  Court, 
our  readers  will  like  to  remember,  that  Ruth  Pinch 
— gentle,  loving  Ruth — met  her  lover,  by  the  merest 
accident  of  course. 

"There  was,"  says  Mr.  Dickens,  "a  little  plot 
between  them  that  Tom  should  always  come  out 
of  the  Temple  by  one  way,  and  that  was  past  the 
fountain.  Coming  through  Fountain  Court,  he 
was  just  to  glance  down  the  steps  leading  into 
Garden  Court,  and  to  look  once  all  round  him; 
and  if  Ruth  had  come  to  meet  him,  there  he 
would  see  her — not  sauntering,  you  understand  (on 
account  of  the  clerks),  but  coming  briskly  up,  with 
the  best  little  laugh  upon  her  face  that  ever 
played  in  opposition  to  the  fountain  and  beat  it  all 
to  nothing.  For,  fifty  to  one,  Tom  had  been 
looking  for  her  in  the  wrong  direction,  and  had 
quite  given  her  up,  while  she  had  been  tripping 
towards  him  from  the  first,  jingling    that    little 


172 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[,The  Temple. 


reticule  of  hers  (with  all  the  keys  in  it)  to  attract 
his  wondering  observation. 

"Whether  there  was  life  enough  left  in  the 
slow  vegetation  of  Fountain  Court  for  the  smoky 
shrubs  to  have  any  consciousness  of  the  brightest 
and  purest-hearted  little  woman  in  the  world,  is 
a  question  for  gardeners  and  those  who  are  learned 
in  the  loves  of  plants.  But  that  it  was  a  good 
thing  for  that  same  paved  yard  to  have  such  a 
delicate  little  figure  flitting  through  it,  that  it 
passed  like  a  smile  from  the  grimy  old  houses  and 
the  worn  flagstones,  and  left  them  duller,  darker, 
sterner  than  before,  there  is  no  sort  of  doubt.  The 
Temple  fountain  might  have  leaped  up  twenty 
feet  to  greet  the  spring  of  hopeful  maidenhood 
that  in  her  person  stole  on,  sparkling,  through  the 
dry  and  dusty  channels  of  the  law ;  the  chirping 
sparrows,  bred  in  Temple  chinks  and  crannies, 
might  have  held  their  peace  to  listen  to  imaginary 
skylarks  as  so  fresh  a  little  creature  passed;  the 
dingy  boughs,  unused  to  droop,  otherwise  than  in 
their  puny  growth,  might  have  bent  down  in  a 
kindred  gracefulness  to  shed  their  benedictions  on 
her  graceful  head ;  old  love-letters,  shut  up  in  iron 
boxes  in  the  neighbouring  offices,  and  made  of  no 
account  among  the  heaps  of  family  papers  into 
which  they  had  strayed,  and  of  which  in  their 
degeneracy  they  formed  a  part,  might  have  stirred 
and  fluttered  with  a  moment's  recollection  of  their 
ancient  tenderness,  as  she  went  lightly  by.  Any- 
thing might  have  happened  that  did  not  happen, 
and  never  will,  for  the  love  of  Ruth.     .     .     . 

"  Merrily  the  tiny  fountain  played,  and  merrily 
the  dimples  sparkled  on  its  sunny  face.  John 
Westlock  hurried  after  her.  Softly  the  whispering 
water  broke  and  fell,  and  roguishly  the  dimples 
twinkled  as  he  stole  upon  her  footsteps. 

"  Oh,  foolish,  panting,  timid  little  heart !  why  did 
she  feign  to  be  unconscious  of  his  coming  ?    .    .    . 

"  Merrily  the  fountain  leaped  and  danced,  and 
merrily  the  smiling  dimples  twinkled  and  expanded 
more  and  more,  until  they  broke  into  a  laugh 
against  the  basin's  rim  and  vanished." 

"L.  E.  L."  {Miss  Landon)  has  left  a  graceful 
poem  on  this  much-petted  fountain,  which  begins, — 

"  The  fountain's  low  singing  is  heard  on  the  wind, 
Like  a  melody,  bringing  sweet  fancies  to  mind — 
Some  to  grieve,   some    to   gladden;    around   them 
•  they  cast 

The  hopes  of  the  morrow,  the  dreams  of  the  past. 
Away  in  the  distance  is  heard  the  vast  sound 
From  tlie  streets  of  the  city  that  compass  it  round. 
Like  the  echo  of  fountains  or  ocean's  deep  call ; 
Yet  that  fountain's  low  singing  is  heard  over  all.' 

Fig-tree  Court,  derived  itg  |iaii)?  f^-pn^  obvious 


sources.  Next  to  the  plane,  that  has  the  strange 
power  of  sloughing  off  its  sooty  bark,  the  fig  seems 
the  tree  that  best  endures  London's  corrupted  atmo- 
sphere. Thomas  Fairchild,  a  Hoxton  gardener, 
who  wrote  in  1722  (quoted  by  Mr.  Peter  Cunning- 
ham), alludes  to  figs  ripening  well  iu  the  Rolls 
Gardens,  Chancery  Lane,  and  to  the  tree  thriving  in 
close  places  about  Bridewell.  Who  can  say  that 
some  Templar  pilgrim  did  not  bring  from  the 
banks  of  "  Abana  or  Pharpar,  rivers  of  Damascus," 
the  first  leafy  inhabitant  of  inky  and  dusty  Fig- 
tree  Court?  Lord  Thurlow  was  living  here  in 
1758,  the  year  he  was  called  to  the  bar,  and  when, 
it  was  said,  he  had  not  money  enough  even  to  liire 
a  horse  to  attend  the  circuit. 

The  Inner  Temple  Library  stands  on  the  terrace 
facing  the  river.  The  Parliament  Chambers  and 
Hall,  in  the  Tudor  style,  were  the  work  of  Sidney 
Smirke,  R.A.,  in  1835.  The  library,  designed  by 
Mr.  Abrahams,  is  96  feet  long,  42  feet  wide,  and  63 
feet  high  ;  it  has  a  hammer-beam  roof.  One  of  the 
stained  glass  windows  is  blazoned  with  the  arms  of 
the  Templars.  Below  the  library  are  chambers. 
The  cost  of  the  whole  was  about  ^^i 3,000.  The 
north  window  is  thought  to  too  much  resemble 
the  great  window  at  Westminster. 

Paper  Buildings,  a  name  more  suitable  for  the 
offices  of  some  City  companies,  were  first  built 
in  the  reign  of  James  I.,  by  a  Mr.  Edward  Hay- 
ward  and  others ;  and  the  learned  Dugdale  de- 
scribes them  as  eighty-eight  feet  long,  twenty  feet 
broad,  and  four  storeys  high.  This  Hayward  was 
Selden's  chamber-fellow,  and  to  him  Selden  dedi- 
cated his  "  Titles  of  Honour."  Selden,  according 
to  Aubrey,  had  chambers  in  these  pleasant  river- 
side buildings,  looking  towards  the  gardens,  and  in 
the  uppermost  storey  he  had  a  little  gallery,  to  pace 
in  and  meditate.  The  Great  Fire  swept  away 
Selden's  chambers,  and  their  successors  were  de- 
stroyed by  the  fire  which  broke  out  in  Mr.  Maule's 
chambers.  Coming  home  at  night  from  a  dinner- 
party, that  gentleman,  it  is  said,  put  the  lighted 
candle  under  his  bed  by  mistake.  The  stately  new 
buildings  were  designed  by  Mr.  Sidney  Smirke, 
A.R.A.,  in  1848.  The  red  brick  and  stone  har- 
monise pleasantly,  and  the  overhanging  oriels  and 
angle  turrets  (Continental  Tudor)  are  by  no  means 
ineffective. 

The  entrance  to  the  Middle  Temple  from  Fleet 
Street  is  a  gatehouse  of  red  brick  pointed  with 
stone,  and  is  the  work  of  Wren.  It  was  erected 
in  1684,  after  the  Great  Fire,  and  is  in  the  style  of 
Inigo  Jones — "  not  inelegant,"  says  Ralph.  It  pro- 
bably occupies  the  site  of  the  gatehouse  erected 
by  order  of  Wolsey,  at  the  expense  of  hjs  prisoneri 


The  Temple,  j 


COWPEk'g  ATTEMPT  At  StllClDE. 


i7i 


Sir  Amyas  Paulet.  The  frightened  man  covered 
the  front  with  the  cardinal's  hat  and  arms,  hoping 
to  appease  Wolsey's  anger  by  gratifying  his  pride. 
The  Inner  Temple  gateway  was  built  in  the  fifth 
year  of  James  I. 

Elm  Court  was  built  in  the  sixth  year  of  Charles  I. 
Up  one  pair  of  stairs  that  successful  courtier, 
Guildford  North,  whom  Jeffreys  so  tormented  by 
the  rumour  that  he  had  been  seen  riding  on  a 
rhinoceros,  then  exhibiting  in  London,  commenced 
the  practicethat  soon  won  him  such  high  honours. 

In  1752  the  poet  Cowper,  on  leaving  a  solicitor's 
office,  had  chambers  in  the  Middle  Temple,  and 
in  that  solitude  the  horror  of  his  future  malady 
began  to  darken  over  him.  He  gave  up  the 
classics,  which  had  been  his  previous  delight,  and 
read  George  Herbert's  poems  all  day  long.  In 
1759,  after  his  father's  death,  he  purchased  another 
set  of  irooms  for  ;^25o,  in  an  airy  situation  in  the 
Inner  Temple.  He  belonged,  at  this  time,  to  the 
"Nonsense  Club,"  of  which  Bonnell  Thornton, 
Colman  junior,  and  Lloyd  were  members.  Thurlow 
also  was  his  friend.  In  1763  his  despondency 
deepened  into  insanity.  An  approaching  appoint- 
ment to  the  clerkship  of  the  Journals  of  the  House 
of  Lords  overwhelmed  him  with  nervous  fears. 
Dreading  to  appear  in  public,  he  resolved  to  destroy 
himself  He  purchased  laudanum,  then  threw  it 
away.  He  packed  up  his  portmanteau  to  go  to 
France  and  enter  a  monastery.  He  went  down  to 
the  Custom  House  Quay,  to  throw  himself  into  the 
river.  He  tried  to  slab  himself  At  last  the  poor 
fellow  actually  hung  himself,  and  was  only  saved  by 
an  accident.     The  following  is  his  own  relation  : — 

*'  Not  one  hesitating  thought  now  remained,  but 
I  fell  greedily  to  the  execution  of  my  purpose.  My 
garter  was  made  of  a  broad  piece  of  scarlet  bind- 
ing, with  a  sliding  buckle,  being  sewn  together  at 
the  ends.  By  the  help  of  the  buckle  I  formed  a 
noose,  and  fixed  it  about  my  neck,  straining  it  so 
tight  that  I  hardly  left  a  passage  for  my  breath,  or 
for  the  blood  to  circulate.  The  tongue  of  the 
buckle  held  it  fast.  At  each  corner  of  the  bed 
was  placed  a  wreath  of  carved  work  fastened  by 
an  iron  pin,  which  passed  up  through  the  midst 
of  it ;  the  other  part  of  the  garter,  which  made  a 
loop,  I  slipped  over  one  of  them,  and  hung  by  it 
some  seconds,  drawing  up  my  feet  under  me,  that 
they  might  not  touch  the  floor  ;  but  the  iron  bent, 
and  the  carved  work  slipped  off,  and  the  garter 
with  it.  I  then  fastened  it  to  the  frame  of  the 
tester,  winding  it  round  and  tying  it  in  a  strong 
knot.  The  frame  broke  short,  and  let  me  down 
again. 

"  The  third  effort  was  more  likely  to  succeed. 


I  set  the  door  open,  which  reached  to  within  a 
foot  of  the  ceiHng.  By  the  help  of  a  chair  I  could 
command  the  top  of  it,  and  the  loop  being  large 
enough  to  admit  a  large  angle  of  the  door,  was 
easily  fixed,  so  as  not  to  slip  off  again.  I  pushed 
away  the  chair  with  my  feet,  and  hung  at  my  whole 
length.  While  I  hung  there  I  distinctly  heard  a 
voice  say  three  times,  *  Tis  over  ! '  Though  I  am 
sure  of  the  fact,  and  was  so  at  the  time,  yet  it 
did  not  at  all  alarm  me  or  affect  my  resolution.  I 
hung  so  long  that  I  lost  all  sense,  all  conscious- 
ness of  existence. 

"  When  I  came  to  myself  again  I  thought  I 
was  in  hell ;  the  sound  of  my  own  dreadful  groans 
was  all  that  I  heard,  and  a  feeling  like  that  pro- 
duced by  a  flash  of  lightning  just  beginning  to 
seize  upon  me,  passed  over  my  whole  body.  In 
a  few  seconds  I  found  myself  fallen  on  my  face  to 
the  floor.  In  about  half  a  minute  I  recovered  my 
feet,  and  reeling  and  struggling,  stumbled  into  bed 
again. 

"  By  the  blessed  providence  of  God,  the  garter 
which  had  held  me  till  the  bitterness  of  temporal 
death  was  past  broke  just  before  eternal  death  had 
taken  place  upon  me.  The  stagnation  of  the  blood 
under  one  eye  in  a  broad  crimson  spot,  and  a  red 
circle  round  my  neck,  showed  plainly  that  I  had 
been  on  the  brink  of  eternity.  The  latter,  indeed, 
might  have  been  occasioned  by  the  pressure  of  the 
garter,  but  the  former  was  certainly  the  effect  of 
strangulation,  for  it  was  not  attended  with  the 
sensation  of  a  bruise,  as  it  must  have  been  had  I 
in  my  fall  received  one  in  so  tender  a  part ;  and  I 
rather  think  the  circle  round  my  neck  was  owing 
to  the  same  cause,  for  the  part  was  not  excoriated, 
nor  at  all  in  pain. 

"  Soon  after  I  got  into  bed  I  was  surprised  to 
hear  a  voice  in  the  dining-room,  where  the  laundress 
was  lighting  a  fire.  She  had  found  the  door  un- 
bolted, notwithstanding  my  design  to  fasten  it,  and 
must  have  passed  the  bed-chamber  door  while  I 
was  hanging  on  it,  and  yet  never  perceived  me. 
She  heard  me  fall,  and  presently  came  to  ask  me  if 
I  was  well,  adding,  she  feared  I  had  been  in  a  fit. 

*'  I  sent  her  to  a  friend,  to  whom  I  related  the 
whole  affair,  and  dispatched  him  to  my  kinsman 
at  the  coffee-house.  As  soon  as  the  latter  arrived 
I  pointed  to  the  broken  garter  which  lay  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  and  apprised  him  also  of  the 
attempt  I  had  been  making.  His  words  were, 
'  My  dear  Mr.  Cowper,  you  terrify  me !  To  be 
sure  you  cannot  hold  tlie  office  at  this  rate.  Where 
is  the  deputation?'  I  gave  him  the  key  of  the 
drawer  where  it  was  deposited,  and  his  business 
requiring  his    immediate   attendance,    he   took  it 


174 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Temple. 


away  with  him  ;  and  thus  ended  all  my  connection 
with  the  Parliament  office." 

In  February,  1732,  Tanfield  Court,  a  quiet,  dull 
nook  on  the  east  side  of  the  Temple,  to  the  south 
of  that  sombre  Grecian  temple  where  the  Master 
resides,  was  the  scene  of  a  very  horrible  crime. 
Sarah  Malcolm,  a  laundress,  aged  twenty-two, 
employed  by  a  young  barrister  named  Kerrol  in 
the  same  court,  gaining  access  to  the  rooms  of 
an  old  lady  named   Duncorab,   whom  she  knew 


Malcolm  went  to  execution  neatly  dressed  in  a  crape 
gown,  held  up  her  head  in  the  cart  with  an  air, 
and  seemed  to  be  painted.  A  copy  of  her  con- 
fession was  sold  for  twenty  guineas.  Two  days 
before  her  execution  she  dressed  in  scarlet,  and 
sat  to  Hogarth  for  a  sketch,  which  Horace  Walpole 
bought  for  -£e,.  The  portrait  represents  a  cruel, 
thin-lipped  woman,  not  uncomely,  sitting  at  a  table. 
The  Duke  of  Roxburghe  purchased  a  perfect  im- 
pression of  this  print,  Mr.  Timbs  says,  for  ^8  5s. 


THE  TEMPLE  FOUNTAIN,    FROM    AN   ULD   PRINT   {see  page  171). 


to  have  money,  strangled  her  and  an  old  servant, 
and  cut  the  throat  of  a  young  girl,  whose  bed  she 
had  probably  shared.  Some  of  her  blood-stained 
linen,  and  a  silver  tankard  of  Mrs.  Duncomb's, 
stained  with  blood,  were  found  by  Mr.  Kerrol 
concealed  in  his  chambers.  Fifty-three  pounds 
of  the  money  were  discovered  at  Newgate  hidden 
in  the  prisoner's  hair.  She  confessed  to  a  share  in 
the  robbery,  but  laid  the  murder  to  two  lads  with 
whom  she  was  acquainted.  She  was,  however, 
found  guilty,  and  hung  opposite  Mitre  Court,  Fleet 
Street.  The  crowd  was  so  great  that  one  woman 
crossed  from  near  Serjeants'  Inn  to  the  other  side 
of  the  way  on  the  shoulders  of  the  mob.    Sarah 


Its  original  price  was  sixpence.  After  her  execution 
the  corpse  was  taken  to  an  undertaker's  on  Snow 
Hill,  and  there  exhibited  for  money.  Among  the 
rest,  a  gentleman  in  deep  mourning — perhaps 
her  late  master,  Mr.  Kerrol — stooped  and  kissed 
it,  and  gave  the  attendant  half-a-crown.  She  was, 
by  special  favour  (for  superiority  even  in  wicked- 
ness has  its  admirers),  buried  in  St.  Sepulchre's 
Churchyard,  from  which  criminals  had  been  ex- 
cluded for  a  century  and  a  half.  The  corpse  of 
the  murderess  was  disinterred,  and  her  skeleton, 
in  a  glass  case,  is  still  to  be  seen  at  the  Botanic 
Garden,  Cambridge. 

Not  many  recorded  crimes  have  taken  place  in 


The  Temple.] 


CRIMES   IN   THE   TEMPLE. 


/D 


176 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Temple. 


the  Temple,  for  youth,  however  poor,  is  hopeful.  It 
takes  time  to  make  a  man  despair,  and  when  he  de- 
spairs, the  devil  is  soon  at  his  elbow.  Nevertheless, 
greed  and  madness  have  upset  some  Templars' 
brains.  In  October,  1573,  a  crazed,  fanatical  man 
of  the  Middle  Temple,  named  Peter  Burchet, 
mistaking  John  Hawkins  (afterwards  the  naval 
hero)  for  Sir  Christopher  Hatton,  flew  at  him  in 
the  Strand,  and  dangerously  wounded  him  with  a 
dagger.  The  queen  was  so  furious  that  at  first  she 
wanted  Burchet  tried  by  camp  law;  but,  being 
found  to  hold  heretical  opinions,  he  was  committed 
to  the  Lollards'  Tower  (south  front  of  St.  Paul's), 
and  afterwards  sent  to  the  Tower.  Growing  still 
madder  there,  Burchet  slew  one  of  his  keepers  with 
a  billet  from  his  fire,  and  was  then  condemned  to 
death  and  hung  in  the  Strand,  close  by  where  he 
had  stabbed  Hawkins,  his  right  hand  being  first 
stricken  off  and  nailed  to  the  gibbet. 

In  1685  John  Ayloff,  a  barrister  of  the  Inner 
Temple,  was  hung  for  high  treason  opposite  the 
Temple  Gate. 

In  1738  Thomas  Carr,  an  attorney,  of  Elm 
Court,  and  Elizabeth  Adams,  his  accomplice,  were 
executed  for  robbing  a  Mr.  Quarrington  in  Shire 
Lane  (see  page  74);  and  in  1752  Henry  Justice, 
of  the  Middle  Temple,  in  spite  of  his  well-omened 
name,  was  cruelly  sentenced  to  death  for  stealing 
books  from  the  library  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge, 
but  eventually  he  was  only  transported  for  life. 

The   celebrated   Earl  of  Mansfield,  when   Mr. 
Murray,   had  chambers   at   No.  5,    King's  Bench 
Walk,  apropos  of  which  Pope  \vrote — 
"  To  Number  Five  direct  your  doves, 

There  spread  round  Murray  all  your  blooming  loves." 

(Pope  "to  Venus,"  from  "  Horace.") 

A  second  compliment  by  Pope  to  this  great  man 
occasioned  a  famous  parody : — 

"  Graced  as  thou  art  by  all  the  power  of  words, 
So  known,  so  honoured  at  the  House  of  Lords  " 

(Pope,  of  Lord  Mansfield) ; 

which  was  thus  cleverly  parodied  by  Colley  Cibber : 

"  Pepsuasion  tips  his  tongue  whene'er  he  talks, 
And  he  has  chambers  in  the  King's  Bench  Walks." 

One  of  Mansfield's  biographers  tells  us  that  "once 
he  was  surprised  by  a  gentleman  of  Lincoln's  Inn 
(who  took  the  liberty  of  entering  his  room  in  the 
Temple  without  the  ceremonious  introduction  of  a 
servant),  in  the  act  of  practising  the  graces  of  a 
speaker  at  a  glass,  while  Pope  sat  by  in  the  cha- 
racter of  a  friendly  preceptor."  Of  the  friendship 
of  Pope  and  Murray,  Warburton  has  said :  "  Mr. 
Pope  had  all  the  warmth  of  affection  for  this  great 
lawyer ;  and,  indeed,  no  man  ever  more  deserved 


to  have  a  poet  for  his  friend,  in  the  obtaining  of 
which,  as  neither  vanity,  party,  nor  fear  had  a  share, 
so  he  supported  his  title  to  it  by  all  the  offices  of  a 
generous  and  true  friendship." 

"A  good  story,"  says  Mr.  Jeafifreson,  "is  told 
of  certain  visits  paid  to  William  Murray's  chambers 
at  No.  5,  King's  Bench  Walk,  Temple,  in  the  year 
1738.  Bom  in  1705,  Murray  was  still  a  young 
man  when,  in  1738,  he  made  his  brilliant  speech 
on  behalf  of  Colonel  Sloper,  against  whom  Colley 
Gibber's  rascally  son  had  brought  an  action  for 
immorality  with  his  wife,  the  lovely  actress,  who 
on  the  stage  was  the  rival  of  Mrs.  Clive,  and  in 
private  life  was  remarkable  for  immorality  and 
fascinating  manners.  Amongst  the  many  clients 
who  were  drawn  to  Murray  by  that  speech,  Sarah, 
Duchess  of  Marlborough,  was  neither  the  least 
powerful  nor  the  least  distinguished.  Her  grace 
began  by  sending  the  rising  advocate  a  general 
retainer,  with  a  fee  of  a  thousand  guineas,  of  which 
sum  he  accepted  only  the  two-hundredth  part, 
explaining  to  the  astonished  duchess  that  *  the  pro- 
fessional fee,  with  a  general  retainer,  could  not  be 
less  nor  more  than  five  guineas.'  If  Murray  had 
accepted  the  whole  sum  he  would  not  have  been 
overpaid  for  his  trouble,  for  her  grace  persecuted 
him  with  calls  at  most  unseasonable  hours.  On 
one  occasion,  returning  to  his  chambers  after 
*  drinking  champagne  with  the  wits,'  he  found 
the  duchess's  carriage  and  attendants  on  •  King's 
Bench  Walk.  A  numerous  crowd  of  footmen  and 
link-bearers  surrounded  the  coach,  and  when  the 
barrister  entered  his  chambers  he  encountered  the 
mistress  of  that  army  of  lackeys.  '  Young  man,' 
exclaimed  the  grand  lady,  eyeing  the  future  Lord 
Mansfield  with  a  look  of  displeasure,  *  if  you  mean 
to  rise  in  the  world,  you  must  not  sup  out.'  On  a 
subsequent  night  Sarah  of  Marlborough  called  with- 
out appointment  at  the  chambers,  and  waited  till 
past  midnight  in  the  hope  that  she  would  see  the 
lawyer  ere  she  went  to  bed.  But  Murray,  being  at 
an  unusually  late  supper-party,  did  not  return  till 
her  grace  had  departed  in  an  overpowering  rage. 
'  I  could  not  make  out,  sir,  who  she  was,'  said 
Murray's  clerk,  describing  her  grace's  appearance 
and  manner,  *  for  she  would  not  tell  me  her  name  ; 
but  she  swore  so  dreadfully  that  I  am  sure  she  must 
be  a  lady  of  quality.^ " 

Charles  Lamb,  who  was  born  in  Crown  Office 
Row,  in  his  exquisite  way  has  sketched  the  benchers 
of  the  Temple  whom  he  had  seen  pacing  tlie 
terrace  in  his  youth.  Jekyll,  with  the  roguish  eye, 
and  Thomas  Coventry,  of  the  elephantine  step,  the 
scarecrow  of  inferiors,  the  browbeater  of  equals, 
who  made  a  solitude  of  children  wherever  he  came, 


The  Temple.] 


CHARLES  LAMB   IN  THE  TEMPLE. 


177 


who  took  snuff  by  palmfuls,  diving  for  it  under 
the  mighty  flap  of  his  old-fashioned  red  waistcoat. 
In  the  gentle  Samuel  Salt  we  discover  a  portrait  of 
the  employer  of  Lamb's  father.  Salt  was  a  shy 
indolent,  absent  man,  who  never  dressed  for  a  dinner 
party  but  he  forgot  his  sword.  The  day  of  Miss 
Bland/s  execution  he  went  to  dine  with  a  relative 
of  the  murderess,  first  carefully  schooled  by  his  clerk 
to  avoid  the  disagreeable  subject.  However,  during 
the  pause  for  dinner.  Salt  went  to  the  window, 
looked  out,  pulled  down  his  ruffles,  and  observed, 
"  It's  a  gloomy  day ;  Miss  Blandy  must  be  hanged 
by  this  time,  I  suppose."  Salt  never  laughed.  He 
was  a  well-known  toast  with  the  ladies,  having  a  fine 
figure  and  person.  Coventry,  on  the  other  hand,  was 
a  man  worth  four  or  five  hundred  thousand,  and 
lived  in  a  gloomy  house,  like  a  strong  box,  opposite 
the  pump  in  Serjeants'  Inn,  Fleet  Street.  Fond 
of  money  as  he  was,  he  gave  away  ;!^3  0,000  at  once 
to  a  charity  for  the  blind,  and  kept  a  hospitable 
house.  Salt  was  indolent  and  careless  of  money, 
and  but  for  Lovel,  his  clerk,  would  have  been 
universally  robbed.  This  Lovel  was  a  clever  little 
fellow,  with  a  face  like  Garrick,  who  could  mould 
heads  in  clay,  turn  cribbage-boards,  take  a  hand 
at  a  quadrille  or  bowls,  and  brew  punch  with  any 
man  of  his  degree  in  Europe.  With  Coventry  and 
Salt,  Peter  Pierson  often  perambulated  the  terrace, 
with  hands  folded  behind  him.  Contemporary  with 
these  was  Daines  Barrington,  a  burly,  square  man. 
Lamb  also  mentions  Burton,  "  a  jolly  negation," 
who  drew  up  the  bills  of  fare  for  the  parliament 
chamber,  where  the  benchers  dined ;  thin,  fragile 
Wliarry,  who  used  to  spitefiiUy  pinch  his  cat's 
ears  when  anything  offended  him ;  and  Jackson, 
the  musician,  to  whom  the  cook  once  applied  for 
instructions  how  to  write  down  "  edge-bone  of  beef" 
rn  a  bill  of  commons.  Then  there  was  Blustering 
Mingay,  who  had  a  grappling-hook  in  substitute  for 
a  hand  he  had  lost,  which  Lamb,  when  a  child, 
used  to  take  for  an  emblem  of  power ;  and  Baron 
Mascres,  who  retained  the  costume  of  the  reign  of 
George  II. 

In  his  "  Essays,"  Lamb  says  : — "  I  was  born 
and  passed  the  first  seven  years  of  my  life  in  the 
Temple.  Its  church,  its  halls,  its  gardens,  its  foun- 
tain, its  river  I  had  almost  said — for  in  those  young 
years  what  was  the  king  of  rivers  to  me  but  a  stream 
that  watered  our  pleasant  places? — these  are  of 
my  oldest  recollections.  I  repeat,  to  this  day,  no 
verses  to  myself  more  frequently  or  with  kindlier 
emotion  than  those  o-f  Spenser  where  he  speaks  of 
this  spot.  Indeed,  it  is  the  most  elegant  spot  in 
the  metropolis.  What  a  transition  for  a  country- 
man visiting  London  for  the  first  time — the  passing 


from  the  crowded  Strand  or  Fleet  Street,  by  unex-> 
pected  avenues,  into  its  magnificent,  ample  squares, 
its  classic  green  recesses  !  .What  a  cheerful,  liberal 
look  hath  that  portion  of  it  which,  from  three  sides, 
overlooks  the  greater  garden,  that  goodly  pile 

*  Of  buildings  strong,  albeit  of  paper  hight,' 

confronting  with  massy  contrast,  the  lighter,  older, 
more  fantastically  shrouded  one  named  of  Har- 
court,  with  the  cheerful  Crown  Office  Row  (place 
of  my  kindly  engendure),  right  opposite  the  stately 
stream,  which  washes  the  garden  foot  with  her  yet 
scarcely  trade-polluted  waters,  and  seems  but  just 
weaned  from  Twickenham  Naiades  !  A  man  would 
give  something  to  have  been  born  in  such  places. 
What  a  collegiate  aspect  has  that  fine  Elizabethan 
hall,  where  the  fountain  plays,  which  I  have  made 
to  rise  and  fall,  how  many  times  !  to  the  astonish- 
ment of  the  young  urchins,  my  contemporaries, 
who,  not  being  able  to  guess  at  its  recondite 
machinery,  were  almost  tempted  to  hail  the  won- 
drous work  as  magic 

"  So  may  the  winged  horse,  your  ancient  badge 
and  cognisance,  still  flourish !  So  may  future 
Hookers  and  Seldens  illustrate  your  church  and 
chambers  !  So  may  the  sparrows,  in  default  of 
more  melodious  quiristers,  imprisoned  hop  about 
your  walks !  So  may  the  fresh-coloured  and 
cleanly  nursery-maid,  who  by  leave  airs  her  playful 
charge  in  your  stately  gardens,  drop  her  prettiest 
blushing  curtsey  as  ye  pass,  reductive  of  juvenescent 
emotion  !  So  may  the  younkers  of  this  generation 
eye  you,  pacing  your  stately  terrace,  with  the  same 
superstitious  veneration  with  which  the  child  Elia 
gazed  on  the  old  worthies  that  solemnised  the 
parade  before  ye  ! " 

Charles  Lamb,  in  his  "  Essay "  on  the  old 
benchers,  speaks  of  many  changes  he  had  wit- 
nessed in  the  Temple — i.e.,  the  Gothicising  the 
entrance  to  the  Inner  Temple  Hall  and  the 
Library  front,  to  assimilate  them  to  the  hall, 
which  they  did  not  resemble ;  to  the  removal  of 
the  winged  horse  over  the  Temple  Hall,  and  the 
frescoes  of  the  Virtues  which  once  Italianised  it. 
He  praises,  too,  the  antique  air  of  the  "  now  almost 
effaced  sun-dials,"  with  their  moral  inscriptions, 
seeming  almost  coeval  with  the  time  which  they 
measured,  and  taking  their  revelations  imme- 
diately from  heaven,  holding  correspondence  with 
the  fountain  of  light.  Of  these  dials  there  still 
remain — one  in  Temple  Lane,  with  the  motto, 
"  Pereunt  et  imputantur;"  one  in  Essex  Court, 
"  Vestigia  nulla  retrorsum ;"  and  one  in  Brick  Court 
on  which  Goldsmith  must  often  have  gazed — the 
motto,  "Time  and  tide  tarry  for  no  man."    In 


I7B 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Temple. 


Pump  Court  and  Garden  Court  are  two  dials 
without  mottoes ;  and  in  each  Temple  garden  is  a 
pillar  dial — "  the  natural  garden  god  of  Christian 
gardens."  On  an  old  brick  house  at  the  east  end 
of  Inner  Temple  Terrace,  removed  in  1828,  was  a 
dial  with  the  odd  inscription,  "  Begone  about  your 
business,"  words  with  which  an  old  bencher  is  said 
to  have  once  dismissed  a  troublesome  lad  who  had 
come  from  the  dial-maker's  for  a  motto,  and  who 
mistook  his  meaning.  The  one  we  have  engraved 
at  page  180  is  in  Pump  Court.  The  date  and  the 
initials  are  renewed  every  time  it  is  fresh  painted. 

There  are  many  old  Temple  anecdotes  relating 
to  that  learned  disciple  of  Bacchus,  Porson.  Many 
a  time  (says  Mr.  Timbs),  at  early  morn,  did  Porson 
stagger  from  his  old  haunt,  the  "  Cider  Cellars  "  in 
Maiden  Lane,  where  he  scarcely  ever  failed  to 
pass  some  hours,  after  spending  the  evening  else- 
where. It  is  related  of  him,  upon  better  authority 
than  most  of  the  stories  told  to  his  discredit,  tlmt 
one  night,  or  rather  morning,  Gurney  (the  Baron), 
who  had  chambers  in  Essex  Court  under  Porson's, 
was  awakened  by  a  tremendous  thump  in  the 
phamber  above.  Porson  had  just  come  home  dead 
drunk,  and  had  fallen  on  the  floor.  Having  ex- 
tinguished the  candle  in  the  fall,  he  presently 
staggered  downstairs  to  re-light  it,  and  Gurney 
heard  him  dodging  and  poking  with  the  candle 
at  the  staircase  lamp  for  about  five  minutes,  and  all 
the  time  very  lustily  cursing  the  nature  of  things. 

We  read  also  of  Porson's  shutting  himself  up  in 
these  chambers  for  three  or  four  days  together, 
admitting  no  visitor.  One  morning  his  friend 
Rogers  went  to  call,  having  ascertained  from  the 
barber's  hard  by  that  Porson  was  at  home,  but  had 
not  been  seen  by  any  one  for  two  days.  Rogers 
proceeded  to  his  chambers,  and  knocked  at  the 
door  more  than  once ;  he  would  not  open  it,  and 
Rogers  came  downstairs,  but  as  he  was  crossing 
the  court  Porson  opened  the  window  and  stopped 
him.  He  was  then  busy  about  the  Grenville 
"  Homer,"  for  which  he  collated  the  Harleian  MS. 
of  the  "  Odyssey,"  and  received  for  his  labour  but 
^50  and  a  large-paper  copy.  His  chambers  must 
have  presented  a  strange  scene,  for  he  used  books 
most  cruelly,  whether  they  were  his  own  or  belonged 
to  others.  He  said  that  he  possessed  more  bad 
copies  of  good  books  than  any  private  gentleman  in 
England. 

Rogers,  when  a  Templar,  occasionally  had  some 
visitors  who  absorbed  more  of  his  time  than  was 
always  agreeable ;  an  instance  of  which  he  thus 
relates :  "  When  I  lived  in  the  Temple,  Mackintosh 
and  Richard  Sharp  used  to  come  to  my  chambers 
and  stay  there  for  hours,  talking  metaphysics.     One 


day  they  were  so  intent  on  their  '  first  cause,'  '  spirit,' 
and  '  matter,'  that  they  were  unconscious  of  my 
having  left  them,  paid  a  visit,  and  returned.  I 
was  a  little  angry  at  this;  and  to  show  my  in- 
difference about  them,  I  sat  down  and  wrote  letters, 
without  taking  any  notice  of  them.  I  never  met 
a  man  with  a  fuller  mind  than  Mackintosh — such 
readiness  on  all  subjects,  such  a  talker." 

Before  any  person  can  be  admitted  a  member  of 
the  Temple,  he  must  furnish  a  statement  in  writing, 
describing  his  age,  residence,  and  condition  in  life, 
and  adding  a  certificate  of  his  respectability  and  fit- 
ness, signed  by  himself  and  a  bencher  of  the  society, 
or  two  barristers.  The  Middle  Temple  requires  the 
signatures  of  two  barristers  of  that  Inn  and  of  a 
bencher,  but  in  each  of  the  three  other  Inns  the 
signatures  of  barristers  of  any  of  the  four  Inns 
will  suffice.  No  person  is  admitted  without  the 
approbation  of  a  bencher,  or  of  the  benchers  in 
council  assembled. 

The  Middle  Temple  includes  the  universities  of 
Durham  and  London.  At  tlie  Inner  Temple  the 
candidate  for  admission  who  has  taken  the  degree 
of  B.A.,  or  passed  an  examination  at  the  Universi- 
ties of  Oxford,  Cambridge,  or  London,  is  required 
to  pass  an  examination  by  a  barrister,  appointed 
by  the  Bench  for  that  purpose,  in  the  Greek  and 
Latin  languages,  and  history  or  literature  in  general. 
No  person  in  priest's  or  deacon's  orders  can  be 
called  to  the  bar.  In  the  Jmier  Temple,  an  attorney 
must  have  ceased  to  be  on  the  rolls,  and  an  articled 
clerk  to  be  in  articles  for  three  years,  before  he  can 
be  called  to  the  bar. 

Legal  students  worked  hard  in  the  old  times  ; 
Coke's  career  is  an  example.  In  1572  he  rose 
every  morning  at  five  o'clock,  lighting  his  own 
fire ;  and  then  read  Bracton,  Littleton,  and  the 
ponderous  folio  abridgments  of  the  law  till  the 
court  met,  at  eight  o'clock.  He  then  took 
boat  for  Westminster,  and  heard  cases  argued  till 
twelve  o'clock,  when  the  pleas  ceased  for  dinner. 
After  a  meal  in  the  Inner  Temple  Hall,  he  at- 
tended "  readings"  or  lectures  in  the  afternoon,  and 
then  resumed  his  private  studies  till  supper-time 
at  five.  Next  came  the  moots,  after  which  he 
slammed  his  chamber-door,  and  set  to  work  with 
his  commonplace  book  to  index  all  the  law  he  had 
amassed  during  the  day.  At  nine,  the  steady 
student  went  to  bed,  securing  three  good  hours  of 
sleep  before  midnight.  It  is  said  Coke  never  saw 
a  play  or  read  a  play  in  his  life — and  that  was 
Shakespeare's  time  !  In  the  reign  of  James  I.  the 
Temple  was  often  called  "  my  Lord  Coke's  shop." 
He  had  become  a  great  lawyer  then,  and  lived  to 
become  Lord  Chief  Justice.     Pity  'tis  that  we  have 


rhe  Temple.] 


TEMPLE   CUSTOMS. 


179 


to  remember  that  he  reviled  Essex  and  insulted 
Raleigh.  King  James  once  said  of  Coke  in  mis- 
fortune that  he  was  like  a  cat,  he  always  fell  on  his 
feet. 

History  does  not  record  many  riots  in  the 
Temple,  full  of  wild  life  as  that  quiet  precinct 
has  been.  In  difterent  reigns,  however,  two  out- 
breaks occurred.  In  both  cases  the  Templars, 
though  rather  hot  and  prompt,  seem  to  have  been 
right.  At  the  dinner  of  John  Prideaux,  reader  of 
the  Inner  Temple,  in  1553,  the  students  took 
oftence  at  Sir  John  Lyon,  the  Lord  Mayor,  coming 
in  state,  with  his  sword  up,  and  the  sword  was 
dragged  down  as  he  passed  through  the  cloisters. 
The  same  sort  of  affray  took  place  again  in  1669, 
when  Lord  Mayor  Peake  came  to  Sir  Christopher 
Goodfellow's  feast,  and  the  Lord  Mayor  had  to  be 
hidden  in  a  bencher's  chambers  till,  as  Pepys  re- 
lates, the  fiery  young  sparks  were  decoyed  away  to 
dinner.  The  case  was  tried  before  Charles  II.,  and 
Heneage  Finch  pleaded  for  the  Temple,  claiming 
immemorial  exemption  from  City  jurisdiction.  The 
case  was  never  decided.  From  that  day  to  this 
(says  Mr.  Noble)  a  settlement  appears  never  to 
have  been  made;  hence  it  is  that  the  Temples 
claim  to  be  "  extra  parochial,"  closing  nightly  all 
their  gates  as  the  clock  strikes  ten,  and  keeping 
extra  watch  and  ward  when  the  parochial  authorities 
"  beat  the  bounds  "  upon  Ascension  Day.  Many 
struggles  have  taken  place  to  make  the  property 
rateable,  and  even  of  late  the  question  has  once 
more  arisen ;  and  it  is  hardly  to  be  wondered  at, 
for  it  would  be  a  nice  bit  of  business  to  assess  the 
Templars  upon  the  ;^3 2,866  which  they  have 
returned  as  the  annual  rental  of  their  estates. 

A  third  riot  was  with  those  ceaseless  enemies 
of  the  Templars,  the  Alsatians,  or  lawless  inhabitants 
of  disreputable  Whitefriars.  In  July,  1691,  weary 
of  their  riotous  and  thievish  neighbours,  the 
benchers  of  the  Inner  Temple  bricked  up  the  gate 
(still  existing  in  King's  Bench  Walk)  leading  into 
the  high  street  of  Whitefriars ;  but  the  Alsatians, 
swarming  out,  pulled  down  as  fast  as  the  bricklayers 
built  up.  The  Templars  hurried  together,  swords 
flew  out,  the  Alsatians  plied  pokers  and  shovels, 
and  many  heads  were  broken.  Ultimately,  two  men 
were  killed,  several  wounded,  and  many  hurried  off 
to  prison.  Eventually,  the  ringleader  of  the  Alsa- 
tians, Captain  Francis  White — a  "  copper  captain," 
no  doubt — was  convicted  of  murder,  in  April,  1693. 
This  riot  eventually  did  good,  for  it  led  to  the 
abolition  of  London  sanctuaries,  those  dens  of 
bullies,  low  gamblers,  thieves,  and  courtesans. 

As  the  Middle  Temple  has  grown  gradually 
poorer  and  more  neglected,  many  curious  customs 


of  the  old  banquets  have  died  out.  The  loving  cup, 
once  fragrant  with  sweetened  sack,  is  now  used  to 
hold  the  almost  superfluous  toothpicks.  Oysters 
are  no  longer  brought  in,  in  term,  every  Friday 
before  dinner ;  nor  when  one  bencher  dines  does 
he,  on  leaving  the  hall,  invite  the  senior  bar  man 
to  come  and  take  wine  with  him  in  the  parliament 
chamber  (the  accommodation-room  of  Oxford  col- 
leges). Yet  the  rich  and  epicurean  Inner  Temple 
still  cherishes  many  worthy  customs,  affects  recherche 
French  dishes,  and  is  curious  in  entremets;  while 
the  Middle  Temple  growls  over  its  geological 
salad,  that  some  hungry  wit  has  compared  to 
"  eating  a  gravel  walk,  and  meeting  an  occasional 
weed."  A  writer  in  Blackwood,  quoting  the  old 
proverb,  "  The  Inner  Temple  for  the  rich,  the 
Middle  for  the  poor,"  says  few  great  men  have 
come  from  the  Middle  Temple.  How  can  acumen 
be  derived  from  the  scrag-end  of  a  neck  of  mutton, 
or  inspiration  from  griskins  ?  At  a  late  dinner,  says 
Mr.  Timbs  (1865),  there  were  present  only  three 
benchers,  seven  barristers,  and  six  students. 

An  Inner  Temple  banquet  is  a  very  grand 
thing.  At  five,  or  half-past  five,  the  barristers  and 
students  in  their  gowns  follow  the  benchers  in 
procession  to  the  dais  ;  the  steward  strikes  the 
table  solemnly  a  mystic  three  times,  grace  is  said 
by  the  treasurer,  or  senior  bencher  present,  and  the 
men  of  law  fall  to.  In  former  times  it  was  the 
custom  to  blow  a  horn  in  every  court  to  announce 
the  meal,  but  how  long  this  ancient  Templar  prac- 
tice has  been  discontinued  we  do  not  know.  The 
benchers  observe  somewhat  more  style  at  their 
table  than  the  other  members  do  at  theirs.  The 
general  repast  is  a  tureen  of  soup,  a  joint  of  meat, 
a  tart,  and  cheese,  to  each  mess,  consisting  of  four 
persons,  and  each  mess  is  allowed  a  bottle  of  poit 
wine.  Dinner  is  served  daily  to  the  members  of 
the  Inn  during  term  time  ;  the  masters  of  the  Bench 
dining  on  the  state,  or  dais,  and  the  barristers 
and  students  at  long  tables  extending  down  the 
hall.  On  grand  days  the  judges  are  present,  who 
dine  in  succession  with  each  of  the  four  Inns  of 
Court.  To  the  parliament  chamber,  adjoining  the 
hall,  the  benchers  repair  after  dinner.  The  loving 
cups  used  on  certain  grand  occasions  are  huge 
silver  goblets,  which  are  passed  down  the  table, 
filled  with  a  delicious  composition,  immemorially 
termed  •'  sack,"  consisting  of  sweetened  and  ex- 
quisitely-flavoured white  wine.  The  butler  attends 
the  progress  of  the  cup,  to  replenish  it  \  and  each 
student  is  by  rule  restricted  to  a  sip;  yet  it  is  re- 
corded that  once,  though  the  number  present  fell 
short  of  seventy,  thirty-six  quarts  of  the  liquid  were 
sipped  away.     At  the  Inner  Temple,  on  May  29th, 


i8o 


OLD  AND    NEW    LONDON. 


[The  Temple. 


a  gold  cup  of  sack  is  handed  to  each  member,  who 
drinks  to  the  happy  restoration  of  Charles  IL 

The  writer  in  Blackwood  before  referred  to  alludes 
to  the  strict  silence  enjoined  at  the  Inner  Temple 
dinners,  the  only  intercourse  between  the  several 
members  of  the  mess  being  the  usual  social  scowl 
vouchsafed  by  your  true-bom  Englishman  to  per- 


ings  or  discussions  on  points  of  law.     The  mere 
student  sat  farthest  from  the  bar. 

When  these  mootings  were  discontinued  depo- 
nent sayeth  not.  In  Coke's  time  (1543),  that 
great  lawyer,  after  supper  at  five  o'clock,  used  to 
join  the  moots,  when  questions  of  law  were  pro- 
posed and  discussed,   when  fine  on  the  garden 


SUN-DIAL  IN  THE  TEMPLE  (seepage  177). 


sons  who  have  not  the  honour  of  his  acquaintance. 
You  may,  indeed,  on  an  emergency,  ask  your  neigh- 
bour for  the  salt;  but  then  it  is  abo  perfectly 
understood  that  he  is  not  obliged  to  notice  your 
request. 

The  old  term  of  "calling  to  the  bar"  seems  to 
have  originated  in  the  custom  of  summoning 
students,  that  had  attained  a  certain  standing,  to 
the  bar  that  separated  the  benchers'  dais  from 
the  hall,  to  take  part  in  certain  probationary  moot- 


terrace,  in  rainy  weather  in  the  Temple  cloisters. 
The  dinner  alone  now  remains ;  dining  is  now  the 
only  legal  study  of  Temple  students. 

In  the  Middle  Temple  a  three  years'  standing  and 
twelve  commons  kept  suffices  to  entitle  a  gentle- 
man to  be  called  to  the  bar,  provided  he  is  above 
twenty-three  years  of  age.  No  person  can  be 
called  to  the  bar  at  any  of  the  Inns  of  Court  before 
he  is  twenty-one  years  of  age ;  and  a  standing  of 
five  years    is  understood  to  be  required  of  every 


The  Temple.] 


THE  TEMPLE   GARDENS. 


member  before  being  called.  The  members  of  the 
several  universities,  &c.,  may,  however,  be  called 
after  three  years*  standing. 

The  Inner  Temple  Garden  (three  acres  m  extent) 
has  probably  been  a  garden  from  the  time  the 
white-mantled  Templars  first  came  from  Holborn 
and  settled  by  the  river-side.  This  little  paradise  of 
nurserymaids  and  London  children  is  entered  from 
the  terrace  by  an  iron  gate  (date,  1730);  and  the 
winged  horse  that  surmounts  the  portal  has  looked 


present ;  and  when  Paper  Buildings  were  erected, 
part  of  this  wall  was  dug  up.  The  view  given  oa 
this  page,  and  taken  from  an  old  view  in  the 
Temple,  shows  a  portion  of  the  old  wall,  with  the 
doorway  opening  upon  the  Temple  Stairs. 

The  Temple  Garden,  half  a  century  since,  was 
famous  for  its  white  and  red  roses  (the  Old  Provence, 
Cabbage,  and  the  Maiden's  Blush — Timbs) ;  and 
the  lime  trees  were  delightful  in  the  time  of  bloom. 
There  were  only  two  steamboats  on  the  river  then ; 


THE   TEMPLK    STAIRS. 


down  on  many  a  distinguished  visitor.  In  the 
centre  of  the  grass  is  such  a  sun-dial  as  Charles 
Lamb  loved,  with  the  date,  1770.  A  httle  to  the 
east  of  this  stands  an  old  sycamore,  which,  fifteen 
years  since,  was  railed  in  as  the  august  mummy 
of'  that  umbrageous  tree  under  whose  shade,  as 
tradition  says,  Johnson  and  Goldsmith  used  to  sit 
and  converse.  According  to  an  engraving  of  167 1 
there  were  formerly  three  trees;  so  that  Shake- 
speare himself  may  have  sat  under  them  and  medi- 
tated on  the  Wars  of  the  Roses.  The  print  shows 
a  brick  terrace  faced  with  stone,  with  a  flight  of 
steps  at  the  north.  The  old  river  wall  of  1670 
stood  fifty  or  sixty  yards  farther  north  than  the 
16 


but  the  steamers  and  factory  smoke  soon  spoiled 
everything  but  the  hardy  chrysanthemums.  How- 
ever, since  the  Smoke  Consuming  Act  has  been  en- 
forced, the  roses,  stocks,  and  hawthorns  have  again 
taken  heart,  and  blossom  with  grateful  luxuriance. 
In  1864  Mr.  Broome,  the  zealous  gardener  of  the 
Inner  Temple,  exhibited  at  the  Central  Horticul- 
tural Society  twenty-four  trusses  of  roses  grown 
under  his  care.  In  the  flower-beds  next  the  main 
walk  he  managed  to  secure  four  successive  crops 
of  flowers — the  pompones  were  especially  gaudy  and 
beautiful ;  but  his  chief  triumph  were  the  chrysan- 
themums of  the  northern  border,  f  The  trees,  how- 
ever, seem  delicate,  and  suffering  from  the  cold 


l82 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Whitefnars. 


winds,  dwindle  as  they  approach  the  river.  The  ' 
planes,  limes,  and  wych  elms  stand  best.  The 
Temple  rooks — the  wise  birds  Goldsmith  delighted 
to  watch — were  originally  brought  by  Sir  William 
Northcote  from  Woodcote  Green,  Epsom,  but  they 
left  in  disgust,  many  years  since.  Mr.  Timbs  says 
that  200  famiUes  enjoy  these  gardens  throughout  the 
year,  and  about  10,000  of  the  outer  world,  chiefly 
children,  who  are  always  in  search  of  the  lost  Eden, 
come  here  annually.  The  flowers  and  trees  are 
rarely  injured,  thanks  to  the  much-abused  London 
public. 

In  the  secluded  Middle  Temple  Garden  is  an 
old  catalpa  tree,  supposed  to  have  been  planted  by 
that  grave  and  just  judge.  Sir  Matthew  Hale.  On 
the  lawn  is  a  large  table  sun-dial,  elaborately  gilt 
and  embellished.  From  the  library  oriel  the 
Thames  and  its  bridges,  Somerset  House  and  the 
Houses  of  Parliament,  form  a  grand  coup  (Tceil. 

The  revenue  of  the  Middle  Temple  alone  is 
said  to  be  ;j£"i  3,000  a  year.  With  the  savings 
we  are,  of  course,  entirely  ignorant.  The  students' 
dinners  are  half  paid  for  by  themselves,  the 
library  is  kept  up  on  very  little  fodder,  and  alto- 
gether the  system  of  auditing  the  Inns  of  Court 
accounts  is  as  incomprehensible  as  the  Sybilline 
oracles ;  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  it  is  all  right, 
and  very  well  managed. 

In  the  seventeenth  century  (says  Mr.  Noble)  a 
benevolent  member  of  the  Middle  Temple  con- 
veyed to  the  benchers  in  fee  several  houses  in  the 
City,  out  of  the  rents  of  which  to  pay  a  stated 
salary  to  each  of  two  referees,  who  were  to  meet 
on  two  days  weekly,  in  term,  from  two  to  five,  in 
the  hall  or  other  convenient  place,  and  without  fee 
on  either  side,  to  settle  as  best  they  could  all  dis- 
putes  submitted   to   them.     From   that   time   the 


referees  have  been  appointed,  but  there  is  no  record 
of  a  single  case  being  tried  by  them.  The  two 
gentlemen,  finding  their  office  ia  sinecure,  have 
devoted  their  salaries  to  making  periodical  addi- 
tions to  the  library.  May  we  be  allowed  to  ask, 
was  this  benevolent  object  ever  made  known  to 
the  public  generally  ?  We  cannot  but  think,  if  it  had 
been,  that  the  two  respected  arbitrators  would  not 
have  had  to  complain  of  the  office  as  a  sinecure. 

He  who  can  enumerate  the  wise  and  great  men 
who  have  been  educated  in  the  Temple  can  count 
off  the  stars  on  his  finger  and  measure  the  sands  of 
the  sea-shore  by  teacupsful.  To  cull  a  few,  we 
may  mention  that  the  Inner  Temple  boasts  among 
its  eminent  members  —  Audley,  Chancellor  to 
Henry  VIII.;  Nicholas  Hare,  of  Hare  Court  cele- 
brity; the  great  lawyer,  Littleton  (1481),  and 
Coke,  his  commentator;  Sir  Christopher  Hatton, 
the  dancing  Chancellor ;  Lord  Buckhurst ;  Selden  ; 
Judge  Jeffries ;  Beaumont,  the  poet ;  William 
Browne,  the  author  of  "  Britannia's  Pastorals  "  (so 
much  praised  by  the  Lamb  and  Hazlitt  school); 
Cowper,  the  poet ;  and  Sir  William  Follett. 

From  the  Middle  Temple  have  also  sprung 
swarms  of  great  lawyers.  We  may  mention 
specially  Plowden,  the  jurist,  Sir  Walter  Raleigh, 
Sir  Thomas  Overbury  (who  was  poisoned  in  the 
Tower),  John  Ford  (one  of  the  latest  of  the  great 
dramatists),  Sir  Edward  Bramston  (chamber-fellow 
to  Mr.  Hyde,  afterwards  Lord  Clarendon),  Bulstrode 
Whitelocke  (one  of  Cromwell's  Ministers),  Lord- 
Keeper  Guildford  (Charles  II.),  Lord  Chancellor 
Somers,  Wycherley  and  Congreve  (the  dramatists), 
Shadwell  and  Southern  (comedy  writers),  Sir  William 
Blackstone,  Edmund  Burke,  Sheridan,  Dunning 
(Lord  Ashburton),  Lord  Chancellor  Eldon,  Lord 
I  Stowell,  as  a  few  among  a  multitude. 


CHAPTER      XVII. 

WHITEFRIARS. 

The  Present  Whitefriars — The  Carmelite  Convent— Dr.  Butts — The  Sanctuary— Lord  Sanquhar  Murders  the  Fencing-Master— His  Trial— Bacon 
and  Yelverton — His  Execution—  Sir  Walter  Scott's  "  Fortunes  of  Nigel " — Shadwell's  Squire  of  Alsatia — A  Riot  in  Whitefriars — Elizabethan 
Edicts  against  the  Ruffians  of  Alsatia — Bridewell — A  Roman  Fortification— A  Saxon  Palace — Wobey's  Residence — Queen  Katherine's  Trial — 
Her  Behaviour  in  Court—  Persecution  of  the  First  Congregationalists — Granaries  and  Coal  Stores  destroyed  by  the  Great  Fire — The  Flogging 
in  Bridewell — Sermon  on  Madame  Creswell— Hogarth  and  the  "  Harlot's  Progress  " — Pennant's  Account  of  Bridewell — Bridewell  in  1843 — 
Its  Latter  Days— Pictures  in  the  Court  Room— Bridewell  Dock— The  Gas  Works— Theatres  iu  Whitefriars— Pepys'  Visits  to  the  Theatre— 
Dryden  and  the  Dorset  Gardens  Theatre — Davenant — Kynaston — Dorset  House — The  Poet-Earl. 


So  rich  is  London  in  legend  and  tradition,  that 
even  some  of  the  spots  that  now  appear  the 
blankest,  baldest,  and  most  uninteresting,  are 
really  vaults  of  entombed  anecdote  and  treasure- 
houses  of  old  story. 


Whitefriars — that  dull,  narrow,  uninviting  lane 
sloping  from  Fleet  Street  to  the  river,  with  gas 
works  at  its  foot  and  mean  shops  on  either  side — 
was  once  the  centre  of  a  district  full  of  noblemen's 
mansions ;  but  Time's  harlequin  wand  by-and-by 


Whitefriars. 


THE  FENCING-MASTER. 


183 


turned  it  into  a  debtors'  sanctuary  and  thieves' 
paradise,  and  for  half  a  century  its  bullies  and 
swindlers  waged  a  ceaseless  war  with  their  proud 
and  rackety  neighbours  of  the  Temple.  The  dingy 
lane,  now  only  awakened  by  the  quick  wheel  of  the 
swift  newspaper  cart  or  the  ponderous  tires  of  the 
sullen  coal-wagon,  was  in  olden  times  for  ever 
ringing  with  clash  of  swords,  the  cries  of  quarrel- 
some gamblers,  and  the  drunken  songs  of  noisy 
Bobadils. 

In  the  reign  of  Edward  I,,  a  certain  Sir  Robert 
Gray,  moved  by  qualms  of  conscience  or  honest 
impulse,  founded  on  the  bank  of  the  Thames,  east 
of  the  well-guarded  Temple,  a  Carmelite  convent, 
\vith  broad  gardens,  where  the  white  friars  might 
stroll,  and  with  shady  nooks  where  they  might  con 
their  missals.  Bouverie  Street  and  Ram  Alley 
were  then  part  of  their  domain,  and  there  they 
watched  the  river  and  prayed  for  their  patrons' 
souls.  In  1350  Courtenay,  Earl  of  Devon,  rebuilt 
the  Whitefriars  Church,  and  in  1420  a  Bishop  of 
Hereford  added  a  steeple.  In  time,  greedy 
hands  were  laid  roughly  on  cope  and  chalice,  and 
Henry  VIIL,  seizing  on  the  friars'  domains,  gave 
his  physician — that  Doctor  Butts  mentioned  by 
Shakespeare — the  chapter-house  for  a  residence. 
Edward  VI. — who,  with  all  his  promise,  was  as  ready 
for  such  pillage  as  his  tyrannical  father — pulled 
down  the  church,  and  built  noblemen's  houses  in 
its  stead.  The  refectory  of  the  convent,  being  pre- 
served, afterwards  became  the  Whitefriars  Theatre. 
The  mischievous  right  of  sanctuary  was  preserved 
to  the  district,  and  confirmed  by  James  I.,  in  whose 
reign  the  slum  became  jocosely  known  as  Alsatia — 
from  Alsace,  that  unhappy  frontier  then,  and  later, 
contended  for  by  French  and  Germans — ^just  as 
Chandos  Street  and  that  shy  neighbourhood  at  the 
north-west  side  of  the  Strand  used  to  be  called 
the  Caribbee  Islands,  from  its  countless  straits  and 
intricate  thieves'  passages.  The  outskirts  of  the 
Carmelite  monastery  had  no  doubt  become  disre- 
putable at  an  early  time,  for  even  in  Edward  III.'s 
reign  the  holy  friars  had  complained  of  the  gross 
temptations  of  Lombard  Street  (an  alley  near 
Bouverie  Street).  Sirens  and  Dulcineas  of  all  descrip- 
tions were  ever  apt  to  gather  round  monasteries. 
Whitefriars,  however,  even  as  late  as  Cromwell's 
reign,  preserved  a  certain  respectability;  for  here, 
with  his  supposed  wife,  the  Dowager  Countess  of 
Kent,  Selden  lived  and  studied. 

In  the  reign  of  James  I.  a  strange  murder  was 
committed  in  Whitefriars.  The  cause  of  the  crime 
was  highly  singular.  In  1607  young  Lord  Sanquhar, 
a  Scotch  nobleman,  who  with  others  of  his  country- 
men  had  followed  his  king  to   England,  had  an 


eye  put  out  by  a  fencing-master  of  Whitefriars.  The 
young  lord — a  man  of  a  very  ancient,  proud,  and 
noble  Scotch  family,  as  renowned  for  courage  as 
for  wit — had  striven  to  put  some  affront  on  the 
fencing-master  at  Lord  Norris's  house,  in  Oxford- 
shire, wishing  to  render  him  contemptible  before 
his  patrons  and  assistants — a  common  bravado 
of  the  rash  Tybalts  and  hot-headed  Mercutios  of 
those  fiery  days  of  the  duello,  when  even  to  crack 
a  nut  too  loud  was  enough  to  make  your  tavern 
neighbour  draw  his  sword.  John  Turner,  the 
master,  jealous  of  his  professional  honour,  chal- 
lenged the  tyro  with  dagger  and  rapier,  and,  deter- 
mined to  chastise  his  ungenerous  assailant,  parried 
all  his  most  skilful  passadoes  and  staccatoes,  and  in 
his  turn  pressed  Sanquhar  with  his  foil  so  hotly  and 
boldly  that  he  unfortunately  thrust  out  one  of  his 
eyes.  The  young  baron,  ashamed  of  his  own  rash- 
ness, and  not  convinced  that  Turner's  thrust  was  only 
a  slip  and  an  accident,  bore  with  patience  several 
days  of  extreme  danger.  As  for  Turner,  he  dis- 
played natural  regret,  and  was  exonerated  by 
everybody.  Some  time  after,  Lord  Sanquhar  being 
in  the  court  of  Henry  IV.  of  France,  that  chivalrous 
and  gallant  king,  always  courteous  to  strangers, 
seeing  the  patch  of  green  taffeta,  unfortunately, 
merely  to  make  conversation,  asked  the  young 
Scotchman  how  he  lost  his  eye.  Sanquhar,  not 
willing  to  lose  the  credit  of  a  wound,  answered 
cannily,  "It  was  done,  your  majesty,  with  a  sword." 
The  king  replied,  thoughtlessly,  "  Doth  the  man 
live?"  and  no  more  was  said.  This  remark, 
however,  awoke  the  viper  of  revenge  in  the  young 
man's  soul.  He  brooded  over  those  words,  and 
never  ceased  to  dwell  on  the  hope  of  some  requital 
on  his  old  opponent.  Two  years  he  remained  in 
France,  hoping  that  his  wound  might  be  cured, 
and  at  last,  in  despair  of  such  a  result,  set  sail  for 
England,  still  brooding  over  revenge  against  the 
author  of  his  cruel  and,  as  it  now  appeared,  irre- 
parable misfortune.  The  King  of  Denmark, 
James's  toss-pot  father-in-law,  was  on  a  visit  here 
at  the  time,  and  the  court  was  very  gay.  The  first 
news  that  Lord  Sanquhar  heard  was,  that  the 
accursed  Turner  was  down  at  Greenwich  Palace, 
fencing  there  in  public  matches  before  the  two 
kings.  To  these  entertainments  the  young  Scotch- 
man went,  and  there,  from  some  corner  of  a  gallery, 
the  man  with  a  patch  over  his  eye  no  doubt  scowled 
and  bit  his  lip  at  the  fencing-master,  as  he  strutted 
beneath,  proud  of  his  skill  and  flushed  with 
triumph.  The  moment  the  prizes  were  given, 
Sanquhar  hurried  below,  and  sought  Turner  up 
and  down,  through  court  and  corridor,  resolved 
to  stab  him  on  the  spot,  though  even  drawing  a 


1 84 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Whitefriars. 


sword  in  the  precincts  of  the  palace  was  an  oftence 
punishable  with  the  loss  of  a  hand.  Turner,  how- 
ever, at  that  time  escaped,  for  Sanquhar  never 
came  across  him  in  the  throng,  though  he  beat 
it  as  a  dog  beats  a  covert.  The  next  day,  there- 
fore, still  on  his  trail.  Lord  Sanquhar  went  after 
him  to  London,  seeking  for  him  up  and  down 
the  Strand,  and  in  all  the  chief  Fleet  Street  and 
Cheapside  taverns.  The  Scot  could  not  have 
come  to  a  more  dangerous  place  than  London. 
Some,  with  malicious  pity,  would  tell  him  that 
Turner  had  vaunted  of  his  skilful  thrust,  and  the 
way  he  had  punished  a  man  who  tried  to  publicly 
shame  him.  Others  would  thoughtlessly  lament 
the  spoiling  of  a  good  swordsman  and  a  brave 
soldier.  The  mere  sight  of  the  turnings  to  White- 
friars  would  rouse  the  evil  spirit  nestling  in  San- 
quhar's heart.  Eagerly  he  sought  for  Turner,  till 
he  found  he  was  gone  down  to  Norris's  house,  in 
Oxfordshire — the  very  place  where  the  fatal  wound 
had  been  inflicted.  Being  thus  for  the  time  foiled, 
Sanquhar  returned  to  Scotland,  and  for  the  present 
delayed  his  revenge.  On  his  next  visit  to  London 
Sanquhar,  cruel  and  steadfast  as  a  bloodhound, 
again  sought  for  Turner.  Yet  the  difficulty  was  to 
surprise  the  man,  for  Sanquhar  was  well  known  in 
all  the  taverns  and  fencing-schools  of  Whitefriars, 
and  yet  did  not  remember  Turner  sufficiently 
well  to  be  sure  of  him.  He  therefore  hired  two 
Scotchmen,  who  undertook  his  assassination ;  but, 
in  spite  of  this.  Turner  somehow  or  other  was  hard 
to  get  at,  and  escaped  his  two  pursuers  and  the 
relentless  man  whose  money  had  bought  them. 
Business  then  took  Sanquhar  again  to  France,  but 
on  his  return  the  brooding  revenge,  now  grown 
to  a  monomania,  once  more  burst  into  a  flame. 

At  last  he  hired  Carlisle  and  Gray,  two  Scotch- 
men, who  were  to  take  a  lodging  in  Whitefriars, 
to  discover  the  best  way  for  Sanquhar  himself  to 
strike  a  sure  blow  at  the  unconscious  fencing- 
master.  These  men,  after  some  reconnoitring, 
assured  their  employer  that  he  could  not  himself  get 
at  Turner,  but  that  they  would  undertake  to  do  so, 
to  which  Sanquhar  assented.  But  Gray's  heart 
failed  him  after  this,  and  he  slipped  away,  and 
Turner  went  again  out  of  town,  to  fence  at  some 
country  mansion.  Upon  this  Carlisle,  a  resolute 
villain,  came  to  his  employer  and  told  him  with 
grim  set  face  that,  as  Gray  had  deceived  him  and 
there  was  *'  trust  in  no  knave  of  them  all,"  he  would 
e'en  have  nobody  but  himself,  and  would  assuredly 
kill  Turner  on  his  return,  though  it  were  with  the 
loss  of  his  own  life.  Irving,  a  Border  lad,  and  page 
to  Lord  Sanquhar,  ultimately  joined  Carlisle  in  the 
assassination. 


On  the  nth  of  May,  i6i2,  about  seven  o'clock 
in  the  evening,  the  two  murderers  came  to  a  tavern 
in  Whitefriars,  which  Turner  usually  frequented  as 
he  returned  from  his  fencing-school.  Turner, 
sitting  at  the  door  with  one  of  his  friends,  seeing 
the  men,  saluted  them,  and  asked  them  to  drink. 
Carlisle  turned  to  cock  the  pistol  he  had  prepared, 
then  wheeled  round,  and  drawing  the  'pistol  from 
under  his  coat,  discharged  it  full  at  the  unfortunate 
fencing-master,  and  shot  him  near  the  left  breast. 
Turner  had  only  time  to  cry,  "  Lord  have  mercy 
upon  me — I  am  killed,"  and  fell  from  the  ale-bench, 
dead.  Carlisle  and  Irving  at  once  fled — Carlisle 
to  the^  town,  Irving  towards  the  river  •  but  the 
latter,  mistaking  a  court  where  wood  was  sold  for 
the  turning  into  an  alley,  was  instantly  run  down 
and  taken.  Carlisle  was  caught  in  Scotland,  Gray 
as  he  was  shipping  at  a  sea-port  for  Sweden ;  and 
Sanquhar  himself,  hearing  one  hundred  pounds 
were  offered  for  his  head,  threw  himself  on  the 
king's  mercy  by  surrendering  himself  as  an  object 
of  pity  to  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury.  But  no 
intercession  could  avail.  It  was  necessary  for 
James  to  show  that  he  would  not  spare  Scottish 
more  than  English  malefactors. 

Sanquhar  was  tried  in  Westminster  Hall  on  the 
27th  of  June,  before  Mr.  Justice  Yelverton.  Sir 
Francis  Bacon,  the  Solicitor-General,  did  what  he 
could  to  save  the  revengeful  Scot,  but  it  was  im- 
possible to  keep  him  from  the  gallows.  Robert 
Creighton,  Lord  Sanquhar,  therefore,  confessed 
himself  guilty,  but  pleaded  extenuating  circum- 
stances. He  had,  he  said,  always  believed  that 
Turner  boasted  he  had  put  out  his  eye  of  set 
purpose,  though  at  the  taking  up  the  foils  he 
(Sanquhar)  had  specially  protested  that  he  played 
as  a  scholar,  and  not  as  one  able  to  contend  with  a 
master  in  the  profession.  The  mode  of  playing 
among  scholars  was  always  to  spare  the  face. 

"  After  this  loss  of  my  eye,"  continued  the 
quasi-repentant  murderer,  "and  with  the  great 
hazard  of  the  loss  of  life,  I  must  confess  that  I  ever 
kept  a  grudge  of  my  soul  against  Turner,  but  had 
no  purpose  to  take  so  high  a  revenge ;  yet  in  the 
course  of  my  revenge  I  considered  not  my  wrongs 
upon  terms  "of  Christianity — for  then  I  should  have 
sought  for  other  satisfaction — but,  being  trained 
up  in  the  courts  of  princes  and  in  arms,  I  stood 
upon  the  terms  of  honour,  and  thence  befell  this 
act  of  dishonour,  whereby  I  have  offended — first, 
God ;  second,  my  prince  ;  third,  my  native  country; 
fourth,  this  country;  fifth,  the  party  murdered; 
sixth,  his  wife  ;  seventh,  posterity ;  eighth,  Carlisle, 
now  to  be  executed ;  and  lastly,  ninth,  my  own  soul, 
and  I  am  now  to  die  for  my  offence.     But,   my 


Whitefriars.] 


LORD   BACON'S  FLATTERY. 


185 


lords/'  he  added,  "  besides  my  own  ofifence,  which 
in  its  nature  needs  no  aggravation,  divers  scandalous 
reports  are  given  out  which  blemish  my  reputation, 
which  is  more  dear  to  me  than  my  life  :  first,  that  I 
made  show  of  reconciliation  with  Turner,  the 
which,  I  protest,  is  utterly  untrue,  for  what  I  have 
formerly  said  I  do  again  assure  your  good  lordships, 
that  ever  after  my  hurt  received  I  kept  a  grudge  in 
my  soul  against  him,  and  never  made  the  least 
pretence  of  reconciliation  with  him.  Yet  this,  my 
lords,  I  will  say,  that  if  he  would  have  confessed 
and  sworn  he  did  it  not  of  purpose,  and  withal 
would  have  foresworn  arms,  I  would  have  pardoned 
him ;  for,  my  lords,  I  considered  that  it  must  be 
done  either  of  set  purpose  or  ignorantly.  If  the 
first,  I  had  no  occasion  to  pardon  him  ;  if  the  last, 
that  is  no  excuse  in  a  master,  and  therefore  for 
revenge  of  such  a  wrong  I  thought  him  unworthy  to 
bear  arms." 

Lord  Sanquhar  then  proceeded  to  deny  the 
aspersion  that  he  was  an  ill-natured  fellow,  ever 
revengeful,  and  delighting  in  blood.  He  con- 
fessed, however,  that  he  was  never  willing  to  put 
up  with  a  wrong,  nor  to  pardon  where  he  had  a 
power  to  retaliate.  He  had  never  been  guilty  of 
blood  till  now,  though  he  had  occasion  to  draw  his 
sword,  both  in  the  field  and  on  sudden  violences, 
where  he  had  both  given  and  received  hurts.  He 
allowed  that,  upon  commission  from  the  king  to 
suppress  wrongs  done  him  in  his  own  country,  he 
had  put  divers  of  the  Johnsons  to  death,  but  for 
that  he  hoped  he  had  need  neither  to  ask  God  nor 
man  for  forgiveness.  He  denied,  on  his  salvation, 
that  by  the  help  of  his  countrymen  he  had  at- 
tempted to  break  prison  and  escape.  The  con- 
demned prisoner  finally  begged  the  lords  to  let  the 
following  circumstances  move  them  to  pity  and  the 
king  to  mercy  : — First,  the  indignity  received  from 
so  mean  a  man ;  second,  that  it  was  done  willingly, 
for  he  had  been  informed  that  Turner,  had  bragged 
of  it  after  it  was  done  ;  third,  the  perpetual  loss  of 
his  eye ;  fourth,  the  want  of  law  to  give  satisfaction 
in  such  a  case ;  fifth,  the  continued  blemish  he  had 
received  thereby. 

The  Solicitor-General  (Bacon),  in  his  speech,  took 
the  opportunity  of  fulsomely  bepraising  the  king 
after  his  manner.  He  represented  the  sputtering, 
drunken,  corrupt  James  as  almost  divine,  in  his 
energy  and  sagacity.  He  had  stretched  forth  his 
long  arms  (for  kings,  he  said,  had  long  arms),  and 
taken  Gray  as  he  shipped  for  Sweden,  CarHsle 
ere  he  was  yet  warm  in  his  house  in  Scotland.  He 
had  prosecuted  the  offenders  "  with  the  breath  and 
blasts  of  his  mouth  ;"  "  so  that,"  said  this  gross 
time-server,    "  I   may   conclude   that   his   majesty 


hath  showed  himself  God's  true  lieutenant,  and 
that  he  is  no  respecter  of  persons,  but  English, 
Scots,  noblemen,  fencers  (which  is  but  an  ignoble 
trade),  are  all  to  him  alike  in  respect  of  justice. 
Nay,  I  may  say  further,  that  his  majesty  hath  had 
in  this  matter  a  kind  of  prophetical  spirit,  for  at 
what  time  Carlisle  and  Gray,  and  you,  my  lord, 
yourself,  were  fled  no  man  knew  whither,  to  the 
four  winds,  the  king  ever  spoke  in  confident  and 
undertaking  manner,  that  wheresoever  the  offenders 
were  in  Europe,  he  would  produce  them  to 
justice." 

Mr.  Justice  Yelverton,  though  Bacon  had  alto- 
gether taken  the  wind  out  of  his  sails,  summed  up 
in  the  same  vein,  to  prove  that  James  was  a 
Solomon  and  a  prophet,  and  would  show  no 
favouritism  to  Scotchmen.  He  held  out  no  hope 
of  a  reprieve.  "  The  base  and  barbarous  murder," 
he  said,  with  ample  legal  verbiage,  "  was  exceed- 
ing strange ; — done  upon  the  sudden  !  done  in  an 
instant !  done  with  a  pistol !  done  with  your  own 
pistol !  under  the  colour  of  kindness.  As  Cain 
talked  with  his  brother  Abel,  he  rose  up  and  slew 
him.  Your  executioners  of  the  murder  left  the 
poor  miserable  man  no  time  to  defend  himself, 
scarce  any  time  to  breathe  out  those  last  words, 
*  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me  !'  The  ground  of  the 
malice  that  you  bore  him  grew  not  out  of  any 
offence  that  he  ever  willingly  gave  you,  but  out  of 
the  pride  and  haughtiness  of  your  own  self;  for 
that  in  the  false  conceit  of  your  own  skill  you 
would  needs  importune  him  to  that  action,  the 
sequel  whereof  did  most  unhappily  breed  your 
blemish — the  loss  of  your  eye."  The  manner  of 
his  death  would  be,  no  doubt,  as  he  (the  prisoner) 
would  think,  unbefitting  to  a  man  of  his  honour 
and  blood  (a  baron  of  300  years'  antiquity),  but 
was  fit  enough  for  such  an  offender.  Lord  San- 
quhar was  then  sentenced  to  be  hung  till  he  was 
dead.  The  populace,  from  whom  he  expected 
"  scorn  and  disgrace,"  were  full  of  pity  for  a  man 
to  be  cut  off,  hke  Shakespeare's  Claudio,  in  his 
prime,  and  showed  great  compassion. 

On  the  29th  of  June  (St.  Peter's  Day)  Lord 
Sanquhar  was  hung  before  Westminster  Hall.  On 
the  ladder  he  confessed  the  enormity  of  his  sins, 
but  said  that  till  his  trial,  blinded  by  the  devil,  he 
could  not  see  he  had  done  anything  unfitting  a 
man  of  his  rank  and  quality,  who  had  been  trained 
up  in  the  wars,  and  had  lived  the  life  of  a  soldier, 
standing  more  on  points  of  honour  than  religion. 
He  then  professed  that  he  died  a  Roman  Catholic, 
and  begged  all  Roman  Catholics  present  to  pray 
for  him.  He  had  long,  he  said,  for  worldly 
reasons,   neglected   the   public   profession   of   his 


1 86 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


fWhitefriars. 


faith,  and  he  thought  God  was  angry  with  him. 
His  religion  was  a  good  religion — a  saving  religion 
— and  if  he  had  been  constant  to  it  he  was  verily 
persuaded  he  should  never  have  fallen  into  that 
misery.  He  then  prayed  for  the  king,  queen,  their 
issue,  the  State  of  England  and  Scotland,  and  the 
lords  of  the  Council  and  Church,  after  which  the 
wearied  executioner  threw  him  from  the  ladder, 
suffering  him  to  hang  a  long  time  to  display  the  j 
king's  justice.     The  compassion  and  sympathy  of  ' 


to  our  remembrance  by  Mr.  Andrew  HalUday's 
dexterous  dramatic  adaptation.  Sir  Walter  chooses 
a  den  of  Alsatia  as  a  sanctuary  for  young  Nigel, 
after  his  duel  with  Dalgarno.  At  one  stroke  of 
Scott's  pen,  the  foggy,  crowded  streets  eastward  of 
the  Temple  rise  before  us,  and  are  thronged  with 
shaggy,  uncombed  ruffians,  with  greasy  shoulder- 
belts,  discoloured  scarves,  enormous  moustaches, 
and  torn  hats.  With  what  a  Teniers'  pencil  the 
great  novelist  sketches  the  dingy  precincts,  with  its 


TiJE  MURDiiR  OK  TURNEH  (see  pai^-e  104). 


the  people  present  had  abated  directly  they  found 
he  was  a  Roman  Catholic;  The  same  morning,  very 
early,  Carlisle  and  Irving  were  hung  on  two  gibbets 
in  Fleet  Street,  over  against  the  great  gate  of  the 
Whitefriars.  The  page's  gibbet  was  six  feet  higher 
than  the  serving-man's,  it  being  the  custom  at  that 
time  in  Scotland  that,  when  a  gentleman  was  hung 
at  the  same  time  with  one  of  meaner  quality,  the 
gentleman  had  the  honour  of  the  higher  gibbet, 
feeling  much  aggrieved  if  he  had  not. 

The  riotous  little  kingdom  of  Whitefriars,  with 
all  its  frowzy  and  questionable  population,  has  been 
admirably  drawn  by  Scott  in  his  fine  novel  of  "  The 
Fortunes  of  Nigel,"  recently  so  -pleasantly  recalled 


blackguardly  population  : — "  The  wailing  of  chil- 
dren," says  the  author  of  "  Nigel,"  "  the  scolding 
of  their  mothers,  the  miserable  exhibition  of  ragged 
linen  hung  from  the  windows  to  dry,  spoke  the 
wants  and  distresses  of  the  wretched  inhabitants ; 
while  the  sounds  of  complaint  were  mocked  and 
overwhelmed  by  the  riotous  shouts,  oaths,  profane 
songs,  and  boisterous  laughter  that  issued  from  the 
alehouses  and  taverns,  which,  as  the  signs  indicated, 
were  equal  in  number  to  all  the  other  houses  ;  and 
that  the  full  character  of  the  place  might  be  evident, 
several  faded,  tinselled,  and  painted  females  looked 
boldly  at  the  strangers  from  their  open  lattices,  or 
more   modestly  seemed  busied  with  the  cracked 


Whitefriars.] 


ALSATIA. 


187 


■^ 


i8^ 


OLD   AND    NEW  LONDON. 


[Whitefriars. 


flower-pots,  filled  with  mignonette  and  rosemary, 
which  were  disposed  in  firont  of  the  windows,  to  the 
great  risk  of  the  passengers."  It  is  to  a  dilapidated 
tavern  in  the  same  foul  neighbourhood  that  the 
gay  Templar,  it  will  be  remembered,  takes  Nigel  to 
be  sworn  in  a  brother  of  Whitefriars  by  drunken 
and  knavish  Duke  Hildebrod,  whom  he  finds 
surrounded  by  his  councillors — a  bullying  Low 
Country  soldier,  a  broken  attorney,  and  a  hedge 
parson;  and  it  is  here  also,  at  the  house  of  old 
Miser  Trapbois,  the  young  Scot  so  narrowly  escapes 
death  at  the  hands  of  the  poor  old  wretch's  cowardly 
assassins. 

The  scoundrels  and  cheats  of  Whitefriars  are 
admirably  etched  by  Dryden's  rival,  Shadwell. 
That  unjustly-treated  writer  (for  he  was.  by  no 
means  a  fool)  has  called  one  of  his  comedies,  in 
the  Ben  Jonson  manner,  The  Squi?'e  of  Alsatia.  It 
paints  the  manners  of  the  place  at  the  latter  end 
of  Charles  II.'s  reign,  when  the  dregs  of  an  age 
that  was  indeed  full  of  dregs  were  vatted  in  that 
disreputable  sanctuary  east  of  the  Temple.  The 
"copper  captains,"  the  degraded  clergymen  who 
married  anybody,  without  inquiry,  for  five  shillings, 
the  broken  lawyers,  skulking  bankrupts,  sullen  homi- 
cides, thievish  money-lenders,  and  gaudy  courtesans, 
Dryden's  burly  rival  has  painted  with  a  brush  full 
of  colour,  and  with  a  brightness,  clearness,  and 
sharpness  which  are  photographic  in  their  force 
and  truth.  In  his  dedication,  which  is  inscribed 
to  that  great  patron  of  poets,  the  poetical  Earl  of 
Dorset,  Shadwell  dwells  on  the  great  success  of  the 
piece,  the  plot  of  which  he  had  cleverly  "  adapted  " 
from  the  Adelphi  of  Terence.  In  the  prologue, 
which  was  spoken  by  Mountfort,  the  actor,  whom 
the  infamous  Lord  Mohun  stabbed  in  Norfolk  Street, 
the  dramatist  ridicules  his  tormenter  Dryden,  for  his 
noise  and  bombast,  and  with  some  vigour  writes — 

'*  With  what  prodigious  scarcity  of  wit 
Did  the  new  authors  starve  the  hungry  pit ! 
Infected  by  the  French,  you  must  have  rhyme, 
Which  long  to  please  the  ladies'  ears  did  chime. 
Soon  after  this  came  ranting  fustian  in, 
And  none  but  plays  upon  the  fret  were  seen, 
Such  daring  bombast  stuff  which  fops  would  praise, 
Tore  our  best  actors'  lungs,  cut  short  their  days. 
Some  in  small  time  did  this  distemper  kill ; 
And  had  the  savage  authors  gone  on  still, 
Fustian  had  been  a  new  disease  i'  the  bill." 

The  moral  of  Shadwell's  piece  is  the  danger  of 
severity  in  parents.  An  elder  son,  being  bred  up 
under  restraint,  turns  a  rakehell  in  Whitefriars, 
whilst  the  younger,  who  has  had  his  own  way,  be- 
comes **an  ingenious,  well-accomplished  gentleman, 
a  man  of  honour  in  King's  Bench  Walk,  and  of 
excellent   disposition   and   temper,"  in  spite  of  a 


good  deal   more   gallantry  than   our  stricter  age 
would  pardon.     The  worst  of  it  is  that  the  worthy 
son  is  always  being  mistaken  for  the  scamp,  while 
the  miserable  Tony  Lumpkin  passes  for  a  time  as 
the  pink  of  propriety.     Eventually,  he  falls  into  the 
hands  of  some  Alsatian  tricksters.    The  first  of  these, 
Cheatley,  is  a  rascal  who,  "  by  reason  of  debts,  does 
not  stir  out  of  Whitefriars,  but  there  inveigles  young 
men  of  fortune,  and  helps  them  to  goods  and  money 
upon  great  disadvantage,  is  bound  for  them,  and 
shares  with  them  till  he  undoes  them."     Shadwell 
tickets  him,  in  his  dramatis  persona^  as  "a  lewd, 
impudent,  debauched  fellow."    According  to  his  own 
accoimt,  the  cheat  lies  perdu,  because  his  unnatural 
father  is  looking  for  him,  to  send  him  home  into 
the  country.     Number  two,  Shamwell,  is  a  young 
man  of  fortune,  who,  ruined  by  Cheatley,  has  turned 
decoy-duck,  and  lives  on  a  share  of  the  spoil.     His 
ostensible  reason  for  concealment  is  that  an  alder- 
man's young  wife  had   run  away  with  him.     The 
third  rascal,  Scrapeall,  is  a  low,  hypocritical  money- 
lender, who  is  secretly  in  partnership  with  Cheatley. 
The  fourth  rascal  is  Captain  Hackman,  a  bullying 
coward,  whose   wife   keeps   lodgings,  sells  cherry 
brandy,  and  is  of  more  than  doubtful  virtue.     He 
had  formerly  been  a  sergeant  in  Flanders,  but  ran 
from   his   colours,    dubbed   himself  captain,    and 
sought   refuge  in  the   Friars  from   a  paltry   debt. 
This    blustering    scamp    stands    much   upon    his 
honour,  and  is    alternately  drawing  his  enormous 
sword  and  being  tweaked  by  the  nose.     A  lion  in 
the  estimation  of  fools,  he  boasts  over  his  cups  that 
he  has  whipped  five  men  through  the  lungs.     He 
talks  a  detestable  cant  language,  calling  guineas 
"megs,"  and  half-guineas  "  smelts."     Money,  with 
him   is  "the  ready,"  "the   rhino,"  "the  darby;" 
a  good  hat  is  "a  rum  nab;"  to  be  well  off  is  to 
be  "  rhinocerical."      This  consummate   scoundrel 
teaches  young  country  Tony  Lumpkins  to  break 
windows,  scour  the  streets,  to  thrash  the  constables, 
to  doctor  the  dice,  and  get  into  all  depths  of  low 
mischief.     Finally,  when  old  Sir  William  Belfond, 
the  severe  old  country  gentleman,  comes  to  con- 
front his  son,  during  his  disgraceful  revels  at  the 
"George"    tavern,    in    Dogwell    Court,    Bouverie 
Street,  the  four  scamps  raise  a  shout  of  "  An  arrest ! 
an  arrest !      A  bailiff !   a  bailiff !  "      The  drawers 
join  in  the  tumult;  the  Friars,  in  a  moment,  is  in 
an  uproar;   and  eventually  the  old  gentleman  is 
chased  by  all  the  scum  of  Alsatia,  shouting  at  the 
top  of  their  voices,  "  Stop  !  stop  !     A  bailiff !   a 
bailiff ! "     He  has  a  narrow  escape  of  being  pulled 
to  pieces,  and  emerges  in  Fleet  Street,  hot,  be- 
spattered, and  bruised.     It  was  no  joke  then  to 
threaten  the  privileges  of  Whitefriars. 


Whitefriars.] 


A  RIOT  IN  WHITEFRIARS. 


189 


Presently  a  horn  is  blown,  there  is  a  cry 
from  Water  Lane  to  Hanging-sword  Alley,  from 
Ashen-tree  Court  to  Temple  Gardens,  of  "Tip- 
staff !  An  arrest !  an  arrest !  "  and  in  a.  moment 
they  are  "up  in  the  Friars,"  with  a  cry  of  "Fall 
on."  The  skulking  debtors  scuttle  into  their 
burrows,  the  bullies  fling  down  cup  and  can,  lug 
out  their  rusty  blades,  and  rush  into  the  me/ee. 
From  every  den  and  crib  red-faced,  bloated  women 
hurry  with  fire-forks,  spits,  cudgels,  pokers,  and 
shovels.  They're  "  up  in  the  Friars,"  with  a  ven- 
geance. Pouring  into  the  Temple  before  the 
Templars  can  gather,  they  are  about  to  drag  old 
Sir  William  under  the  pump,  when  the  worthy  son 
comes  to  the  rescue,  and  the  Templars,  with  drawn 
swords,  drive  back  the  rabble,  and  make  the  porters 
shut  the  gates  leading  into  Alsatia.  Cheatley, 
Shamwell,  and  Hackman,  taken  prisoners,  are  then 
well  drubbed  and  pumped  on  by  the  Templars, 
and  the  gallant  captain  loses  half  his  whiskers. 
"  The  terror  of  his  face,"  he  moans,  "  is  gone." 
"  Indeed,"  says  Cheatley,  "  your  magnanimous  phiz 
is  somewhat  disfigured  by  it,  captain."  Cheatley 
threatened  endless  actions.  Hackman  swears  his 
honour  is  very  tender,  and  that  this  one  affront  will 
cost  him  at  least  five  murders.  As  for  Shamwell,  he 
is  inconsolable.  "  What  reparation  are  actions  ?  " 
he  moans,  as  he  shakes  his  wet  hair  and  rubs  his 
bruised  back.  "  I  am  a  gentleman,  and  can  never 
show  my  face  amongst  my  kindred  more."  When 
at  last  they  have  got  free,  they  all  console  them- 
selves with  cherry  brandy  from  Hackman's  shop, 
after  which  the  "  copper  captain  "  observes,  some- 
what in  Falstaff's  manner,  "  A  fish  has  a  cursed  life 
on't.  I  shall  have  that  aversion  to  water  after  this, 
that  I  shall  scarce  ever  be  cleanly  enough  to  wash 
my  face  again." 

Later  in  the  play  there  is  still  another  rising  in 
Alsatia,  but  this  time  the  musketeers  come  in  force, 
in  spite  of  all  privileges,  and  the  scufile  is  greater 
than  ever.  Some  debtors  run  up  and  down  with- 
out coats,  others  with  still  more  conspicuous  de- 
ficiencies. Some  cry,  "  Oars  !  oars  !  sculler ;  five 
pound  for  a  boat;  ten  pound  for  a  boat;  twenty 
pound  for  a  boat ;"  many  leap  from  balconies,  and 
make  for  the  water,  to  escape  to  the  Savoy  or  the 
Mint,  also  sanctuaries  of  that  day.  The  play  ends 
with  a  dignified  protest,  which  doubtless  proved 
thoroughly  effective  with  the  audience,  against  the 
privileges  of  places  that  harboured  such  knots  of 
scoundrels.  "Was  ever,"  Shadwell  says,  "  such  im- 
pudence suffered  in  a  Government  ?  Ireland  con- 
quered; Wales  subdued;  Scotland  united.  But 
there  are  some  few  spots  of  ground  in  London,  just 
in  the  face  of  the  Government,  miconquered  yet, 


that  hold  in  rebellion  still,  Mefhinks  'tis  strange 
that  places  so  near  the  king's  palace  should  be  no 
part  of  his  dominions.  'Tis  a  shame  in  the  society 
of  law  to  countenance  such  practices.  Should 
any  place  be  shut  against  the  king's  Avrit  or  posse 
comitatus  ?" 

Be  sure  the  pugnacious  young  Templars  present 
all  rose  at  that,  and  great  was  the  thundering  of 
red-heeled  shoes.  King  William  probably  agreed 
with  Shadwell,  for  at  the  latter  end  of  his  reign  the 
privilege  of  sanctuary  was  taken  from  Whitefriars, 
and  the  dogs  were  at  last  let  in  on  the  rats  for 
whom  they  had  been  so  long  waiting.  T\yo  other 
places  of  refuge — the  Mint  and  the  Savoy — how- 
ever, escaped  a  good  deal  longer ;  and  there  the 
Hackmans  and  Cheatleys  of  the  day  still  hid  their 
ugly  faces  after  daylight  had  been  let  into  White- 
friars and  the  wild  days  of  Alsatia  had  ceased  for 
ever. 

In  earlier  times  there  had  been  evidently  special 
endeavours  to  preserve  order  in  Whitefriars,  for 
in  the  State  Paper  Office  there  exist  the  follow- 
ing rules  for  the  inhabitants  of  the  sanctuary  in  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth  : — 

'■^  Item.  Theise  gates  shalbe  orderly  shutt  and 
opened  at  convenient  times,  and  porters  appointed 
for  the  same.  Also,  a  scavenger  to  keep  the  pre- 
cincte  clean. 

'■'■  ItejH.  Tipling  houses  shalbe  bound  for  good 
order. 

"  Item.  Searches  to  be  made  by  the  constables, 
with  the  assistance  of  the  inhabitants,  at  the  com- 
mandmente  of  the  justices. 

"  Itej}t.  Rogues  and  vagabondes  and  other  dis- 
turbers of  the  public  peace  shall  be  corrected  and 
punished  by  the  authoretie  of  the  justices. 

"  Item.  A  baihfe  to  be  appointed  for  leavienge 
of  such  duties  and  profittes  which  apperteine  unto 
her  Ma'"^ ;  as  also  for  returne  of  proces  for  execu- 
tion of  justice. 

"  Item.  Incontinent  persons  to  be  presented  unto 
the  Ordenary,  to  be  tried,  and  punished. 

^^  Item.  The  poore  within  the  precincte  shalbe 
provyded  for  by  the  inhabitantes  of  the  same. 

'■^  Item.  In  tyme  of  plague,  good  order  shalbe 
taken  for  the  restrainte  of  the  same. 

"  Item.  Lanterne  and  light  to  be  mainteined 
duringe  winter  time." 

All  traces  of  its  former  condition  have  long 
since  disappeared  from  Whitefriars,  and  it  is  diffi- 
cult indeed  to  believe  that  the  dull,  uninteresting 
region  that  now  lies  between  Fleet  Street  and  the 
Thames  was  once  the  riotous  Alsatia  of  Scott  and 
Shadwell. 

And  now  we  come  to  Bridewell,  first  a  palace,  then 


190 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Whitefriars. 


a  prison.  The  old  palace  of  Bridewell  (Bridget's 
Well)  was  rebuilt  upon  the  site  of  the  old  Tower 
of  Montfiquet  (a  soldier  of  the  Conqueror's)  by 
Henry  VIII.,  for  the  reception  of  Charles  V. 
of  France  in  1522.  There  had  been  a  Roman 
fortification  in  the  same  place,  and  a  palace  both 
of  the  Saxon  and  Norman  kings.  Henry  I.  partly 
rebuilt  the  palace ;  and  in  1847  a  vault  with  Norman 
billet  moulding  was  discovered  in  excavating  the 
site  of  a  public-house  in  Bride  Lane.  It  remained 
neglected  till  Cardinal  Wolsey  {circa  15 12)  came 
in  pomp  to  live  here.  Here,  in  1525,  when 
Henry's  affection  for  Anne  Boleyn  was  growing, 
he  made  her  father  (Thomas  Boleyn,  Treasurer  of 
the  King's  House)  Viscount  Rochforde.  A  letter 
of  Wolsey's,  June  6,  15 13,  to  the  Lord  Admiral,  is 
dated  from  "  my  poor  house  at  Bridewell ; "  and 
from  1515  to  1521  no  less  than  j[^2x,(j2^  was  paid 
in  repairs.  Another  letter  from  Wolsey,  at  Bride- 
well, mentions  that  the  house  of  the  Lord  Prior  of 
St.  John's  Hospital,  at  Bridewell,  had  been  granted 
by  the  king  for  a  record  office.  The  palace  must 
have  been  detestable  enough  to  the  monks,  for  it 
was  to  his  palace  of  Bridewell  that  Henry  VIII. 
summoned  the  abbots  and  other  heads  of  religious 
societies,  and  succeeded  in  squeezing  out  of  them 
;^i 00,000,  the  contumacious  Cistercians  alone 
yielding  up  ^33,000. 

It  was  at  the  palace  at  Bridewell  (in  1528)  that 
King  Henry  VIII.  first  disclosed  the  scruples  that, 
after  his  acquaintance  with  Anne  Boleyn,  troubled 
his  sensitive  conscience  as  to  his  marriage  with 
Katherine  of  Arragon.  "  A  few  days  later,"  says 
Lingard,  condensing  the  old  chronicles,  "  the  king 
vindertook  to  silence  the  murmurs  of  the  people, 
and  summoned  to  his  residence  in  the  Bridewell 
the  members  of  the  Council,  the  lords  of  his  Court, 
and  the  mayor,  aldermen,  and  principal  citizens. 
Before  them  he  enumerated  the  several  injuries 
which  he  had  received  from  the  emperor,  and  the 
motives  which  induced  him  to  seek  the  alliance  of 
France.  Then,  taking  to  himself  credit  for  deli- 
cacy of  conscience,  he  described  the  scruples  which 
had  long  tormented  his  mind  on  account  of  his 
marriage  with  his  deceased  brother's  widow.  These 
he  had  at  first  endeavoured  to  suppress,  but  they 
had  been  revived  and  confirmed  by  the  alarming 
declaration  of  the  Bishop  of  Tarbes  in  the  presence 
of  his  Council.  To  tranquillise  his  mind  he  had 
recourse  to  the  only  legitimate  remedy  :  he  had 
consulted  the  Pontiff,  who  had  appointed  two  dele- 
gates to  hear  the  case,  and  by  their  judgment  he 
was  determined  to  abide.  He  would  therefore  warn 
his  subjects  to  be  cautious  how  they  ventured  to 
arraign  his  conduct.     The  proudest  among  them 


should  learn  that  he  was  their  sovereign,  and 
should  answer  with  their  heads  for  the  presumption 
of  their  tongues."  Yet,  notwithstanding  he  made 
all  this  parade  of  conscious  superiority,  Henry  was 
prudent  enough  not  by  any  means  to  refuse  the  aid 
of  precaution.  A  rigorous  search  was  made  for 
arms,  and  all  strangers,  with  the  exception  only  of 
ten  merchants  from  each  nation,  were  ordered  to 
leave  the  capital. 

At  the  trial  for  divorce  the  poor  queen  behaved 
\vith  much  womanly  dignity.  "  The  judges,"  says 
Hall,  the  chronicler,  and  after  him  Stow,  "  com- 
manded the  crier  to  proclaim  silence  while  their  com- 
mission was  read,  both  to  the  court  and  the  people 
assembled.  That  done,  the  scribes  commanded  the 
crier  to  call  the  king  by  the  name  of  '  King  Henry  of 
England,  come  into  court,'  &c.  With  that  the  king 
answered,  and  said,  '  Here.'  Then  he  called  the 
queen,  by  the  name  of  '  Katherine,  Queen  of  Eng- 
land, come  into  court,'  &c.,  who  made  no  answer, 
but  rose  incontinent  out  of  her  chair,  and  because 
she  could  not  come  to  the  king  directly,  for  the  dis- 
tance secured  between  them,  she  went  about,  and 
came  to  the  king,  kneeling  down  at  his  feet  in  the 
sight  of  all  the  court  and  people,  to  whom  she  said 
in  effect  these  words,  as  foUoweth :  '  Sir,'  quoth 
she,  *  I  desire  you  to  do  me  justice  and  right,  and 
take  some  pity  upon  me,  for  I  am  a  poor  woman 
and  a  stranger,  born  out  of  your  dominion,  having 
here  so  indifferent  counsel,  and  less  assurance  of 
friendship.  Alas !  sir,  in  what  have  I  offended 
you  ?  or  what  occasion  of  displeasure  have  I 
showed  you,  intending  thus  to  put  me  from  you 
after  this  sort  ?  I  take  God  to  judge,  I  have  been 
to  you  a  true  and  humble  wife,  ever  conformable 
to  your  will  and  pleasure ;  that  never  contrarised 
or  gainsaid  anything  thereof;  and  being  always 
contented  with  all  things  wherein  you  had  any 
delight  or  dalliance,  whether  little  or  much,  without 
grudge  or  countenance  of  discontent  or  displeasure. 
I  loved  for  your  sake  all  them  you  loved,  whether 
I  had  cause  or  no  cause,  whether  they  were  my 
friends  or  my  enemies.  I  have  been  your  wife 
these  twenty  years  or  more,  and  you  have  had  by 
me  divers  children;  and  when  ye  had  me  at  the 
first,  I  take  God  to  be  judge  that  I  was  a  very 
maid ;  and  whether  it  be  true  or  not,  I  put  it  to 
your  conscience.  If  there  be  any  just  cause  that 
you  can  allege  against  me,  either  of  dishonesty  or 
matter  lawful,  to  put  me  from  you,  I  am  content 
to  depart,  to  my  shame  and  rebuke ;  and  if  there  be 
none,  then  I  pray  you  to  let  me  have  justice  at  your 
hands.  The  king,  your  father,  was,  in  his  time,  of 
such  excellent  wit,  that  he  was  accounted  among  all 
men  for  wisdom  to  be  a  second  Solomon  ;  and  the 


Whifefriars.] 


THE  CONGREGATIONALISTS. 


191 


King  of  Spain,  my  father,  Ferdinand,  was  reckoned 
one  of  the  wisest  princes  that  reigned  in  Spain  many 
years  before.  It  is  not,  therefore,  to  be  doubted 
but  that  they  had  gathered  as  wise  counsellors  unto 
them  of  every  realm  as  to  their  wisdom  they  thought 
meet ;  and  as  to  me  seemeth,  there  were  in  those 
days  as  wise  and  well-learned  in  both  realms  as 
now  at  this  day,  who  thought  the  marriage  between 
you  and  me  good  and  lawful.  Therefore  it  is  a 
wonder  to  me  to  hear  what  new  inventions  are 
now  invented  against  me,  that  never  intended  but 
honesty,  and  now  to  cause  me  to  stand  to  the 
order  and  judgment  of  this  court.  Ye  should,  as 
seemeth  me,  do  me  much  wrong,  for  ye  may  con- 
demn me  for  lack  of  answer,  having  no  counsel  but 
such  as  ye  have  assigned  me;  ye  must  consider 
that  they  cannot  but  be  indifferent  on  my  part, 
where  they  be  your  own  subjects,  and  such  as  ye 
have  taken  and  chosen  out  of  your  council,  where- 
unto  they  be  privy,  and  dare  not  disclose  your  will 
and  intent.  Therefore,  I  humbly  desire  you,  in  the 
way  of  charity,  to  spare  me  until  I  may  know  what 
counsel  and  advice  my  friends  in  Spain  will  adver- 
tise me  to  take ;  and  if  you  will  not,  then  your 
pleasure  be  fulfilled.'  With  that  she  rose  up, 
making  a  low  curtsey  to  the  king,  and  departed 
from  thence,  people  supposing  that  she  would  have 
resorted  again  to  her  former  place,  but  she  took 
her  way  straight  out  of  the  court,  leaning  upon  the 
arm  of  one  of  her  servants,  who  was  her  receiver- 
general,  called  Master  Griffith.  The  king,  being 
advertised  that  she  was  ready  to  go  out  of  the 
house  where  the  court  was  kept,  commanded  the 
crier  to  call  her  again  by  these  words,  '  Katherine, 
Queen  of  England,'  &c.  With  that,  quoth  Master 
Griffith,  *  Madam,  ye  be  called  again.'  *  Oh  !  oh  !' 
quoth  she, '  it  maketh  no  matter ;  it  is  no  indifferent 
(impartial)  court  for  me,  therefore  I  will  not  tarry  : 
go  on  your  ways.'  And  thus  she  departed  without 
any  further  answer  at  that  time,  or  any  other,  and 
never  would  appear  after  in  any  court." 

Bridewell  was  endowed  with  the  revenues  of  the 
Savoy.  In  1555  the  City  companies  were  taxed 
for  fitting  it  up  ;  and  the  next  year  Machyn  records 
that  a  thief  was  hung  in  one  of  the  courts,  and, 
later  on,  a  riotous  attempt  was  made  to  rescue 
prisoners. 

In  1863  Mr.  Lemon  discovered  in  the  State 
Paper  Office  some  interesting  documents  relative  to 
the  imprisonment  in  Bridewell,  in  1567  (EHzabeth), 
of  many  members  of  the  first  Congregational  Church. 
Bishop  Grindal,  writing  to  BuUinger,  in  1568  de- 
scribes this  schism,  and  estimates  its  adherents  at 
about  200,  but  more  women  than  men.  Grindal 
says  they  held    meetings   and  administered    the 


sacrament  in  private  houses,  fields,  and  even  in 
ships,  and  ordained  ministers,  elders,  and  deacons, 
after  their  own  manner.  The  Lord  Mayor,  in 
pity,  urged  them  to  recant,  but  they  remained  firm. 
Several  of  these  sufferers  for  conscience'  sake  died 
in  prison,  including  Richard  Fitz,  their  minister, 
and  Thomas  Rowland,  a  deacon.  In  the  year  1597, 
within  two  months,  5,468  prisoners,  including  many 
Spaniards,  were  sent  to  Bridewell. 

The  Bridewell  soon  proved  costly  and  incon- 
venient to  the  citizens,  by  attracting  idle,  aban- 
doned, and  "  masterless  "  people.  In  1 608  (James  I.) 
the  City  erected  at  Bridewell  twelve  large  granaries 
and  two  coal-stores;  and  in  1620  the  old  chapel 
was  enlarged.  In  the  Great  Fire  (six  years  after 
the  Restoration)  the  buildings  were  nearly  all  de- 
stroyed, and  the  old  castellated  river-side  mansion 
of  Elizabeth's  time  was  rebuilt  in  two  quadrangles, 
the  chief  of  which  fronted  the  Fleet  river  (now  a 
sewer  under  the  centre  of  Bridge  Street).  We  have 
already  given  on  page  12a  view  of  Bridewell  as  it 
appeared  previous  to  the  Great  Fire;  and  the 
general  bird's-eye  view  given  on  page  187  in  the 
present  number  shows  its  appearance  after  it  was 
rebuilt.  Within  the  present  century,  Mr.  Timbs  says, 
the  committee-rooms,  chapel,  and  prisons  were  re- 
built, and  the  whole  formed  a  large  quadrangle,  with 
an  entrance  from  Bridge  Street,  the  keystone  of  the 
arch  being  sculptured  with  the  head  of  Edward  VI. 
Bridewell  stone  bridge  over  the  Fleet  was  painted 
by  Hayman,  Hogarth's  friend,  and  engraved  by 
Grignon,  as  the  frontispiece  to  the  third  volume 
of  "  The  Dunciad,"  In  the  burial-ground  at  Bride- 
well, now  the  coal-yard  of  the  City  Gas  Company, 
was  buried,  in  1 752,  Dr.  Johnson's  friend  and  Jjrotege, 
poor  blameless  Levett.  The  last  interment  took 
place  here,  Mr.  Noble  says,  in  1844,  and  the  trees 
and  tombstones  were  then  carted  away.  The 
gateway  into  Bridge  Street  is  still  standing,  and 
such  portions  of  the  building  as  still  remain  are 
used  for  the  house  and  offices  of  the  treasury  of 
the  Bridewell  Hospital  property,  which  includes 
Bedlam. 

The  flogging  at  Bridewell  is  described  by  Ward, 
in  his  "  London  Spy."  Both  men  and  women,  it 
appears,  were  whipped  on  their  naked  backs  be- 
fore the  court  of  governors.  The  president  sat 
with  his  hammer  in  his  hand,  and  the  culprit  was 
taken  from  the  post  when  the  hammer  fell.  The 
calls  to  knock  when  women  were  flogged  were  loud 
and  incessant.  **  Oh,  good  Sir  Robert,  knock ! 
Pray,  good  Sir  Robert,  knock  ! "  which  became  at 
length  a  common  cry  of  reproach  among  the  lower 
orders,  to  denote  that  a  woman  had  been  whipped 
in  Bridewell.      Madame  Creswell,  the  celebrated 


192 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Whitefriars. 


procuress  of  King  Charles  II.'s  reign,  died  a  pri- 
soner in  Bridewell.  She  desired  by  7i<ill  to  have  a 
sermon  preached  at  her  funeral,  for  which  the 
preacher  was  to  have  £,\o,  but  upon  this  express 
condition,  that  he  was  to  say  nothing  but  what  was 
well  of  her.  A  preacher  was  with  some  difficulty 
found  who  undertook  the  task.  He,  after  a  sermon 
preached  on  the  general  subject  of  mortality,  con- 
cluded with  saying,  "  By  the  will  of  the  deceased, 
it  is  expected  that  I  should  mention  her,  and  say 


of  p^io  each.  Many  of  these  boys,  says  Hatton, 
"  arriyed  from  nothing  to  be  governors."  They 
wore  a  blue  dress  and  white  hats,  and  attended 
fires,  with  an  engine  belonging  to  the  hospital. 
The  lads  at  last  became  so  turbulent,  that  in  1785 
their  special  costume  was  abandoned.  "  Job's 
Pound  "  was  the  old  cant  name  for  Bridewell,  and 
it  is  so  called  in  "Hudibras." 

The    scene    of  the    fourth   plate    of  Hogarth's 
"Harlot's  Progress,"  finished  in  1733  (George  IL), 


BEATING    HEMP    IN    BRIDEWELL,    AFTER    HOGARTH. 


nothing  but  what  was  well  of  her.  All  that  I  shall 
say  of  her,  therefore,  is  this  :  She  was  born  well, 
she  lived  well,  and  she  died  well;  for  she  was  born 
with  the  name  of  Cxe%well,  she  lived  in  Clerken- 
imll,  and  she  died  in  Bridewf//."     (Cunningham.) 

In  1708  (Queen  Anne)  Hatton  describes  Bride- 
well "as  a  house  of  correction  for  idle,  vagrant, 
loose,  and  disorderly  persons,  and  '  night  walkers,' 
who  are  there  set  to  hard  labour,  but  receive  clothes 
and  diet."  It  was  also  a  hospital  for  indigent  persons. 
Twenty  art-masters  (decayed  traders)  were  also 
lodged,  and  received  about  140  apprentices.  The 
boys,  after  learning  tailoring,  weaving,  flax-dressing, 
&c.,  received  the  freedom  of  the  City,  and  donations 


is  laid  in  Bridewell.  There,  in  a  long,  dilapidated, 
tiled  shed,  a  row  of  female  prisoners  are  beating 
hemp  on  wooden  blocks,  while  a  truculent-looking 
warder,  with  an  apron  on,  is  raising  his  rattan  to 
strike  a  poor  girl  not  without  some  remains  of  her 
youthful  beauty,  who  seems  hardly  able  to  lift  the 
heavy  mallet,  while  the  wretches  around  leeringly 
deride  her  fine  apron,  laced  hood,  and  figured  gown. 
There  are  two  degraded  men  among  the  female 
hemp-beaters — one  an  old  card-sharper  in  laced  coat 
and  foppish  wig ;  another  who  stands  with  his  hands 
in  a  pillory,  on  which  is  inscribed  the  admonitory 
legend,  "Better  to  work  than  stand  thus."  A  cocked 
hat  and  a  dilapidated  hoop  hang  on  the  wall. 


Whitefriars.] 


THE  PRISONERS   IN   BRIDEWELL. 


193 


That  excellent  man,  Howard,  visiting  Bridewell 
in  1783,  gives  it  a  bad  name,  in  his  book  on 
"  Prisons."  He  describes  the  rooms  as  offensive, 
and  the  prisoners  only  receiving  a  penny  loaf  a 
day  each.  The  steward  received  eightpence  a  day 
for  each  prisoner,  and  a  hemp-dresser,  paid  a  salary 


palace  remaining,  and  a  magnificent  flight  of  ancient 
stairs  leading  to  the  court  of  justice.  In  the  next 
room,  where  the  whipping-stocks  were,  tradition 
says  sentence  of  divorce  was  pronounced  against 
Katherine  of  Arragon. 

"  The  first  time,"  says  Pennant,  "  I  visited  the 


INTERIOR  OF  THE  DUKE's   THEATRE,    FROM   SETTLE'S    "EMPRESS  OF   MOROCCO"   [see  page   I95). 


of  ;^20,  had  the  profit  of  the  culprits'  labour.  For 
bedding  the  prisoners  had  fresh  straw  given  them 
once  a  month.  It  was  the  only  London  prison 
where  either  straw  or  bedding  was  allowed.  No 
out-door  exercise  was  permitted.  In  the  year  1782 
there  had  been  confined  in  Bridewell  659  prisoners. 
In  1790,  Pennant  describes  Bridewell  as  still 
having  arches  and  octagonal  towers  of  the  old 
17 


place,  there  was  not  a  single  male  prisoner,  but 
about  twenty  females.  They  were  confined  on  a 
ground  floor,  and  employed  on  the  beating  of 
hemp.  When  the  door  was  opened  by  the  keeper, 
they  ran  towards  it  like  so  many  hounds  in  kennel, 
and  presented  a  most  moving  sight.  About  twenty 
young  creatures,  the  eldest  not  exceeding  sixteen, 
many  of  them  with  angelic  faces  divested  of  every 


194 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Whitefriars. 


angelic  expression,  featured  with  impudence,  im- 
penitency,  and  profligacy,  and  clothed  in  the 
silken  tatters  of  squalid  finery.  A  magisterial — a 
national — opprobrium  !  What  a  disadvantageous 
contrast  to  the  Spmhaus,  in  Amsterdam,  where  the 
confined  sit  under  the  eye  of  a  matron,  spinning 
or  sewing,  in  plain  and  neat  dresses  provided  by 
the  public  !  No  traces  of  their  former  lives  appear 
in  their  countenances;  a  thorough  reformation 
seems  to  have  been  eftected,  equally  to  the  emolu- 
ment and  the  honour  of  the  republic.  This  is  also 
the  place  of  confinement  for  disobedient  and  idle 
apprentices.  They  are  kept  separate,  in  airy  cells, 
and  have  an  allotted  task  to  be  performed  in  a 
certain  time.  They,  the  men  and  women,  are 
employed  in  beating  hemp,  picking  oakum,  and 
packing  of  goods,  and  are  said  to  earn  their  main- 
tenance." 

A  writer  in  "Knight's  London"  (1843)  gives  a 
very  bad  account  of  Bridewell.  "Bridewell,  another 
place  of  confinement  in  the  City  of  London,  is 
under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  governors  of  Bride- 
well and  Bethlehem  Hospitals,  but  it  is  supported 
out  of  the  funds  of  the  hospital.  The  entrance  is 
in  Bridge  Street,  Blackfriars.  The  prisoners  con- 
fined here  are  persons  summarily  convicted  by 
the  Lord  Mayor  and  aldermen,  and  are,  for  the 
most  part,  petty  pilferers,  misdemeanants,  vagrants, 
and  refractory  apprentices,  sentenced  to  solitary 
confinement ;  which  term  need  not  terrify  the  said 
refractory  offenders,  for  the  persons  condemned  to 
solitude,"  says  the  \vriter,  "  can  with  ease  keep  up 
a  conversation  with  each  other  from  morning  to 
night.  The  total  number  of  persons  confined  here 
in  1842  was  1,324,  of  whom  233  were  under  seven- 
teen, and  466  were  known  or  reputed  thieves.  In 
1 818  no  employment  was  furnished  to  the  prisoners. 
The  men  sauntered  about  from  hour  to  hour  in 
those  chambers  where  the  worn  blocks  still  stood 
and  exhibited  the  marks  of  the  toil  of  those  who 
are  represented  in  Hogarth's  prints. 

*'The  treadmill  has  been  now  introduced,  and 
more  than  five-sixths  of  the  prisoners  are  sen- 
tenced to  hard  labour,  the  *  mill '  being  employed 
in  grinding  corn  for  Bridewell,  Bethlehem,  and  the 
House  of  Occupation.  The  'Seventh  Report  of 
the  Inspectors  of  Prisons  on  the  City  Bridewell '  is 
as  follows  : — '  The  establishment  answers  no  one 
object  of  imprisonment  except  that  of  safe  custody. 
It  does  not  correct,  deter,  nor  reform  ;  but  we  are 
convinced  that  the  association  to  which  all  but  the 
City  apprentices  are  subjected  proves  highly  in- 
jurious, counteracts  any  efforts  that  can  be  made 
for  the  moral  and  religious  improvement  of  the 
prisoners,  corrupts  the  less  criminal,  and  confirms 


the  degradation  of  the  more  hardened  offenders. 
The  cells  in  the  old  part  of  the  prison  are  greatly 
superior  to  those  in  the  adjoining  building,  which 
is  of  comparatively  recent  erection,  but  the  whole 
of  the  arrangements  are  exceedingly  defective.  It 
is  quite  lamentable  to  see  such  an  injudicious  and 
unprofitable  expenditure  as  that  which  was  incurred 
in  the  erection  of  this  part  of  the  prison.' " 

Latterly  Bridewell  was  used  as  a  receptacle  for 
vagrants,  and  as  a  temporary  lodging  for  paupers 
on  their  way  to  their  respective  parishes.  The 
prisoners  sentenced  to  hard  labour  were  put  on  a 
treadmill  which  ground  corn.  The  other  prisoners 
picked  junk.  The  women  cleaned  the  prison, 
picked  junk,  and  mended  the  linen.  In  1829 
there  was  built  adjoining  Bedlam  a  House  of  Occu- 
pation for  young  prisoners.  It  was  decided  that 
from  the  revenue  of  the  Bridewell  hospital  {£^\  2,000) 
reformatory  schools  were  to  be  built.  The  annual 
number  of  contumacious  apprentices  sent  to  Bride- 
well rarely  exceeded  twenty-five,  and  when  Mr. 
Timbs  visited  the  prison  in  1863  he  says  he  found 
only  one  lad  out  of  the  three  thousand  appren- 
tices of  the  great  City.  In  1868  (says  Mr.  Noble)  the 
governors  refused  to  receive  a  convicted  appren- 
tice, for  the  very  excellent  reason  that  there  was 
no  cell  to  receive  him. 

The  old  court-room  of  Bridewell  (84  by  29) 
was  a  handsome  wainscoted  room,  adorned  with  a 
great  picture,  erroneously  attributed  to  Holbein, 
and  representing  Edward  VI.  granting  the  Royal 
Charter  of  Endowment  to  the  Mayor,  which  now 
hangs  over  the  western  gallery  of  the  hall  of  Christ's 
Hospital.  It  was  engraved  by  Vertue  in  1750, 
and  represents  an  event  which  happened  ten  years 
after  the  death  of  the  supposed  artist.  Beneath 
this  was  a  cartoon  of  the  Good  Samaritan,  by 
Dadd,  the  young  artist  of  promise  who  went  mad 
and  murdered  his  father,  and  who  is  now  confined 
for  life  in  Broadmoor.  The  picture  is  now  at 
Bedlam.  There  was  a  fine  full-length  of  swarthy 
Charles  II.,  by  Lely,  and  full-lengths  of  George  III. 
and  Queen  Charlotte,  after  Reynolds.  There  were 
also  murky  portraits  of  past  presidents,  including 
an  equestrian  portrait  of  Sir  William  Withers  (1708). 
Tables  of  benefactions  also  adorned  the  walls.  In 
this  hall  the  governors  of  Bridewell  dined  annually, 
each  steward  contributing  jQi^  towards  the  ex- 
penses, the  dinner  being  dressed  in  a  large  kitchen 
below,  only  used  for  that  purpose.  The  hall  and 
kitchen  were  taken  down  in  1862. 

In  the  entrance  corridor  from  Bridge  Street  (says 
Mr.  Timbs)  are  the  old  chapel  gates,  of  fine  iron- 
work, originally  presented  by  the  equestrian  Sir 
William  Withers,  and  on  the  staircase  is  a  bust  of 


Whjtefriars.] 


DAVENANT'S    THEATRE. 


195 


the  venerable  Chamberlain  Clarke,  who  died  in  his 
ninety-third  year. 

The  Bridewell  prison  (whose  inmates  were  sent 
to  HoUoway)  was  pulled  down  (except  the  hall, 
treasurer's  house,  and  offices)  in  1863. 

Bridewell  Dock  (now  Tudor  and  William  Streets 
and  Chatham  Place)  was  long  noted  for  its  taverns, 
and  was  a  favourite  landing-place  for  the  Thames 
watermen.     (Noble.) 

The  gas-works  of  Whitefriars  are  of  great  size. 
In  1807  Mr.  Winsor,  a  German,  first  lit  a  part  of 
London  (Pall  Mall)  with  gas,  and  in  1809  he  ap- 
plied for  a  charter.  Yet,  even  as  late  as  1813,  says 
Mr.  Noble,  the  inquest-men  of  St.  Dunstan's,  full 
of  the  vulgar  prejudice  of  the  day,  prosecuted 
William  Sturt,  of  183,  Fleet  Street,  for  continuing 
for  three  months  past  "the  making  of  gaslight,  and 
making  and  causing  to  be  made  divers  large  fires 
of  coal  and  other  things,"  by  reason  whereof  and 
"divers  noisome  and  offensive  stinks  and  smells 
and  vapours  he  causes  the  houses  and  dwellings 
near  to  be  unhealthy,  for  which  said  nuisance  one 
William  Knight,  the  occupier,  was  indicted  at 
the  sessions."  The  early  users  of  coffee  at  the 
"Rainbow,"  as  we  have  seen  in  a  previous  chapter, 
underwent  the  same  persecution.  Yet  Knight  went 
on  boldly  committing  his  harmless  misdemeanour, 
and  even  so  far,  in  the  next  year  (1814),  as  to  start 
a  company  and  build  gas-works  on  the  river's 
bank  at  Whitefriars.  Gas  spoke  for  itself,  and 
its  brilliancy  could  not  be  gainsaid.  Times  have 
changed.  There  are  now  thirteen  London  com- 
panies, producing  a  rental  of  a  million  and  a  half, 
using  in  their  manufacture  882,770  tons  of  coal, 
and  employing  a  capital  of  more  than  five  and  a 
half  millions.  Luckily  for  the  beauty  of  the 
Embankment,  these  gas-works  at  Whitefriars,  with 
their  vast  black  reservoirs  and  all  their  smoke  and 
fire,  are  about  to  be  removed  to  Barking,  seven 
miles  from  London. 

The  first  theatre  in  Whitefriars  seems  to  have 
been  one  built  in  the  hall  of  the  old  Whitefriars 
Monastery.  Mr.  Collier  gives  the  duration  of  this 
theatre  as  from  1586  to  1613.  A  memorandum 
from  the  manuscript-book  of  Sir  Henry  Herbert, 
Master  of  the  Revels  to  King  Charles  I.,  notes  that 
"  I  committed  Cromes,  a  broker  in  Long  Lane, 
the  1 6th  of  February,  1634,  to  the  Marshalsey,  for 
lending  a  Church  robe,  with  the  name  of  Jesus 
upon  it,  to  the  players  in  Salisbury  Court,  to 
represent  a  flamen,  a  priest  of  the  heathens. 
Upon  his  petition  of  submission  and  acknowledg- 
ment of  his  fault,  I  released  him  the  1 7  th  February, 
1634."  From  entrier;  of  the  Wardmote  Inquests  of 
St.  Dunstan's,  quoted  by  Mr.  Noble,  it  appears  that  I 


the  Whitefriars  Theatre  (erected  originally  in  the 
precincts  of  the  monastery,  to  be  out  of  the  juris- 
diction of  the  mayor)  seems  to  have  become  dis- 
reputable in  1609,  and  ruinous  in  16 19,  when  it  is 
mentioned  that  "  the  rain  hath  made  its  way  in,  and 
if  it  be  not  repaired  it  must  soon  be  plucked  down, 
or  it  will  fall."  The  SaUsbury  Court  Theatre,  that 
took  its  place,  was  erected  about  1629,  and  the 
Earl  of  Dorset  somewhat  illegally  let  it  for  a  term 
of  sixty-one  years  and  ^^950  down,  Dorset  House 
being  afterwards  sold  for  ^^4,000.  The  theatre 
was  destroyed  by  the  Puritan  soldiers  in  1649, 
and  not  rebuilt  till  the  Restoration. 

At  the  outbreak  of  pleasure  and  vice,  after  the 
Restoration,  the  actors,  long  starved  and  crestfallen, 
brushed  up  their  plumes  and  burnished  their  tinsel. 
Killigrew,  that  clever  buffoon  of  the  Court,  opened 
a  new  theatre  in  Drury  Lane  in  1663,  with  a  play  of 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  ;  and  Davenant  (supposed 
to  be  Shakespeare's  illegitimate  son)  opened  the 
little  theatre,  long  disused,  in  Salisbury  Court,  the 
rebuilding  of  which  was  commenced  in  1660,  on 
the  site  of  the  granary  of  Salisbury  House.  In  time 
Davenant  migrated  to  the  old  Tennis  Court,  in 
Portugal  Street,  on  the  south  side  of  Lincoln's  Inn 
Fields,  and  when  the  Great  Fire  came  it  erased  the 
Granary  Theatre.  In  167 1,  on  Davenant's  death, 
the  company  (nominally  managed  by  his  widow) 
returned  to  the  new  theatre  in  Sahsbury  Court, 
designed  by  Wren,  and  decorated,  it  is  said,  by 
Grinling  Gibbons.  It  opened  with  Dryden's  Sir 
Martin  Marall,  which  had  already  had  a  run, 
having  been  first  played  in  1668.  On  Killigrew's 
death,  the  King's  and  Duke's  Servants  united,  and 
removed  to  Drury  Lane  in  1682  ;  so  that  the 
Dorset  Gardens  Theatre  only  flourished  for  eleven 
years  in  all.  It  was  subsequently  let  to  wrestlers, 
fencers,  and  other  brawny  and  wiry  performers. 
The  engraving  on  page  193,  taken  from  Settle's 
"Empress  of  Morocco"  (1678),  represents  the 
stage  of  the  theatre  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  Wren's 
new  theatre  in  Dorset  Gardens,  an  engraving  of 
which  is  given  on  page  138,  fronted  the  river,  and 
had  public  stairs  for  the  convenience  of  those 
who  came  by  water.  There  was  also  an  open 
place  before  the  theatre  for  the  coaches  of  the 
"  quaUty."  In  1698  it  was  used  for  the  drawing 
of  a  penny  lottery,  but  in  1703,  when  it  threatened 
to  re-open.  Queen  Anne  finally  closed  it.  It  was 
standing  in  1720  (George  I.),  when  Strype  drew 
up  the  continuation  of  Stow,  but  it  was  shortly 
after  turned  into  a  timber-yard.  The  New  River 
Company  next  had  their  offices  there,  and  in 
1814  water  was  ousted  by  fire,  and  the  City 
Gas  Works  were  established  in  this  quarter,  with 


196 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Whitefriars. 


a  dismal  front  to  the  bright  and  pleasant  Em- 
bankment. 

Pepys,  the  indefatigable,  was  a  frequent  visitor 
to  the  Whitefriars  Theatre.  A  few  of  his  quaint 
remarks  will  not  be  uninteresting  : — 

"  1660. — By  water  to  Salsbury  Court  Playhouse, 
where,  not  liking  to  sit,  we  went  out  again,  and 
by  coach  to  the  theatre,  &c. — To  the  playhouse, 
and  there  saw  The  Changeling,  the  first  time  it 
hath  been  acted  these  twenty  years,  and  it  takes 
exceedingly.  Besides,  I  see  the  gallants  do  begin 
to  be  tyred  with  the  vanity  and  pride  of  the  theatre 
actors,  who  are  indeed  grown  very  proud  and 
rich. 

"  1 66 1. — ^To  White-fryars,  and  saw  The  Bondman 
acted;  an  excellent  play,  and  well  done;  but  above 
all  that  I  ever  saw,  Betterton  do  the  Bondman  the 
best. 

"  1661. — After  dinner  I  went  to  the  theatre,  where 
I  found  so  few  people  (which  is  strange,  and  the 
reason  I  do  not  know)  that  I  went  out  again,  and 
so  to  Salisbury  Court,  where  the  house  as  full  as 
could  be ;  and  it  seems  it  was  a  new  play,  The 
Queen's  Maske,  wherein  there  are  some  good 
humours ;  among  others,  a  good  jeer  to  the  old 
story  of  the  siege  of  Troy,  making  it  to  be  a  common 
country  tale.  But  above  all  it  was  strange  to  see 
so  little  a  boy  as  that  was  to  act  Cupid,  which  is 
one  of  the  greatest  parts  in  it. 

"  Creed  and  I  to  Salisbury  Court,  and  there  saw 
Love's  Qiiarrell  acted  the  first  time,  but  I  do  not 
like  the  design  or  words.  ....  To  Salsbury 
Court  Playhouse,  where  was  acted  the  first  time 
a  simple  play,  and  ill  acted,  only  it  was  my  fortune 
to  sit  by  a  most  pretty  and  most  ingenuous  lady, 
which  pleased  me  much." 

Dryden,  in  his  prologues,  makes  frequent  mention 
of  the  Dorset  Gardens  Theatre,  more  especially 
in  the  address  on  the  opening  of  the  new  Drury 
Lane,  March,  1674.  The  Whitefriars  house,  under 
Davenant,  had  been  the  first  to  introduce  regular 
scenery,  and  it  prided  itself  on  stage  pomp  and 
show.  The  year  before,  in  Shadwell's  opera  of 
The  Tempest,  or  the  Enchanted  Island,  the  machinery 
was  very  costly,  and  one  scene,  in  which  the  spirits 
flew  away  with  the  wicked  duke's  table  and  viands 
just  as  the  company  was  sitting  down,  had  excited 
the  town  to  enthusiasm.  Psyche,  another  opera  by 
Shadwell,  perhaps  adapted  from  MoHere's  Court 
spectacle,  had  succeeded  the  Tempest.  St.  Andre 
and  his  French  dancers  were  probably  engaged 
in  Shadwell's  piece.  The  king,  whose  taste  and 
good  sense  the  poet  praises,  had  recommended 
simplicity  of  dress  and  frugality  of  ornament.  This 
Pryden  took  care  to  well  remember.     He  says  : — 


"  You  who  eacli  day  can  theatres  behold, 
Like  Nero's  palace,  shining  all  in  gold, 
Our  mean,  ungilded  stage  will  scorn,  we  fear, 
And  for  the  homely  room  disdain  the  cheer." 

Then  he  brings  in  the  dictum  of  the  king : — 

"  Yet  if  some  pride  with  want  may  be  allowed, 
We  in  our  plainness  may  be  justly  proud  : 
Our  royal  master  willed  it  should  be  so  ; 
Whate'er  he's  pleased  to  own  can  need  no  show. 
That  sacred  name  gives  ornament  and  grace, 
And,  like  his  stamp,  makes  basest  metal  pass. 
'Tvvere  folly  now  a  stately  pile  to  raise. 
To  build  a  playhouse,  while  you  throw  down  plays. 
While  scenes,  machines,  and  empty  operas  reign. 
And  for  the  pencil  you  the  pen  disdain  : 
While  troops  of  famished  Frenchmen  hither  drive, 
And  laugh  at  those  upon  whose  alms  they  live, 
Old  English  authors  vanish,  arid  give  place 
To  these  new  conquerors  of  the  Norman  race." 

And  when,  in  167 1,  the  burnt-out  Drury  Lane  com- 
pany had  removed  to  the  Portugal  Street  Theatre, 
Dryden  had  said,  in  the  same  strain, — 

*'  So  we  expect  the  lovers,  braves,  and  wits  ; 
The  gaudy  house  with  scenes  will  serve  for  cits." 

In  another  epilogue  Dryden  alludes  sarcastically 
to  the  death  of  Mr.  Scroop,  a  young  rake  of  fortune, 
who  had  just  been  run  through  by  Sir  Thomas 
Armstrong,  a  sworn  friend  of  the  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth, in  a  quarrel  at  the  Dorset  Gardens  Theatre, 
and  died  soon  after.  This  fatal  affray  took  place 
during  the  representation  of  Davenant's  adaptation 
of  Macbeth. 

From  Dryden's  various  j^rologucs  and  epi- 
logues we 'cull  many  sharply-outlined  and  bright- 
coloured  pictures  of  the  wild  and  riotous  audiences 
of  those  evil  days.  We  see  again  the  "hot  Bur- 
gundians  "  in  the  upper  boxes  wooing  the  masked 
beauties,  crying  *'  hon  "  to  the  French  dancers  and 
beating  cadence  to  the  music  that  had  stirred  even 
the  stately  Court  of  Versailles.  Again  we  see  the 
scornful  critics,  bunched  with  glistening  ribbons, 
shaking  back  their  cascades  of  blonde  hair,  lolling 
contemptuously  on  the  foremost  benches,  and  "look- 
ing big  through  their  curls."  There  from  "Fop's 
Corner  "  rises  the  tipsy  laugh,  the  prattle,  and  the 
chatter,  as  the  dukes  and  lords,  the  wits  and  cour- 
tiers, practise  what  Dryden  calls  "  the  diving;  bow," 
or  "the  toss  and  the  new  French  wallov/" — the 
diving  bow  being  especially  admired,  because  it — 

"■With  a  shog  casts  all  the  hair  before. 
Till  he,  with  full  decorum,  brings  it  back, 
And  rises  with  a  water-spaniel's  shake." 

Nor  does  the  poet  fail  to  recall  the  affrays  in  the 
upper  boxes,  when  some  quarrelsome  rake  was  often 
pinned  to  the  wainscoat  by  the  sword  of  his  insulted 
rival.     Below,  at  the  door,  the  Flemish  horses  and 


Whitefriars.] 


THE  DORSET  GARDENS  THEATRfi. 


197 


the  heavy  gilded  coach,  hghted  by  flambeaux,  are 
waiting  for  the  noisy  gallant,  and  will  take  back 
only  his  corpse. 

Of  Dryden's  coldly  licentious  comedies  and 
ranting  bombastic  tragedies  a  few  only  seem  to 
have  been  produced  at  the  Dorset  Gardens  Theatre. 
Among  these  we  may  mention  Limb,erham,  CEdipus, 
Troilus  and  Cressida,  and  The  Spanish  Friar. 
Limberham  was  acted  at  the  Duke's  Theatre,  in 
Dorset  Gardens;  because,  being  a  satire  upon  a 
Court  vice,  it  was  deemed  peculiarly  calculated  for 
that  playhouse.  The  concourse  of  the  citizens 
thither  is  alluded  to  in  the  prologue  to  Marriage 
a  la  Mode.  Ravenscroft,  also,  in  his  epilogue  to 
the  play  of  Citizen  Turned  Gentleman,  which  was 
acted  at  the  same  theatre,  takes  occasion  to  disown 
the  patronage  of  the  more  dissolute  courtiers,  in  all 
probability  because  they  formed  the  minor  part  of 
his  audience.    The  citizens  were  his  great  patrons. 

In  the  Postman,  December  8,  1679,  there  is  the 
following  notice,  quoted  by  Smith:  —  "At  the 
request  of  several  persons  of  quality,  on  Saturday 
next,  being  the  9th  instant,  at  the  theatre  in  Dorset 
Gardens,  the  famous  Kentish  men,  Wm.  and  Rich. 
Joy,  design  to  show  to  the  town  before  they  leave 
it  the  same  tryals  of  strength,  both  of  them,  that 
Wm.  had  the  honour  of  showing  before  his  majesty 
and  their  royal  highnesses,  with  several  other  per- 
sons of  quality,  for  which  he  received  a  considerable 
gratuity.  The  lifting  a  weight  of  two  thousand  two 
hundred  and  forty  pounds.  His  holding  an  extra- 
ordinary large  cart-horse ;  and  breaking  a  rope 
which  will  bear  three  thousand  five  hundred  weight. 
Beginning  exactly  at  two,  and  ending  at  four.  The 
boxes,  4s.;  the  pit,  2s.  6d. ;  first  gallery,  2s.;  upper 
gallery,  is.  Whereas  several  scandalous  persons 
have  given  out  that  they  can  do  as  much  as  any  of 
the  brothers,  we  do  offer  to  such  persons  ,;^ioo 
reward,  if  he  can  perform  the  said  matters  of 
strength  as  they  do,  provided  the  pretender  will 
forfeit  ;^2o  if  he  doth  not.  The  day  it  is  per- 
formed will  be  affixed  a  signal-flag  on  the  theatre. 
No  money  to  be  returned  after  once  paid," 

In  1 68 1  Dr.  Davenant  seems,  by  rather  unfair 
tactics,  to  have  bought  off  and  pensioned  both 
Hart  and  Kynaston  from  the  King's  Company, 
and  so  to  have  greatly  weakened  his  rivals.  Of 
these  two  actors  some  short  notice  may  not  be 
uninteresting.  Hart  had  been  a  Cavalier  captain 
during  the  Civil  Wars,  and  was  a  pupil  of  Robinson, 
the  actor,  who  was  shot  down  at  the  taking  of 
Basing  House.  Hart  was  a  tragedian  who  excelled 
in  parts  that  required  a  certain  heroic  and  chivalrous 
dignity.  As  a  youth,  before  the  Restoration,  when 
boys  played  female  parts.  Hart  was  successful  as 


the  Duchess,  in  Shirley's  Cardinal.  In  Charles's 
time  he  played  Othello,  by  the  king's  command, 
and  rivalled  Betterton's  Hamlet  at  the  other  house. 
He  created  the  part  of  Alexander,  was  excellent 
as  Brutus,  and  terribly  and  vigorously  wicked  as 
Ben  Jonson's  Cataline.  Rymer,  says  Dr.  Doran, 
styled  Hart  and  Mohun  the  ^sopus  and  Roscius 
of  their  time.  As  Amintor  and  Melanthus,  in  The 
Maid's  Tragedy,  they  were  incomparable.  Pepys 
is  loud  too  in  his  praises  of  Hart,  His  salary, 
was,  however,  at  the  most,  jP^T)  ^  week,  though  he 
reahsed  ;^i,ooo  yearly  after  he  became  a  share- 
holder of  the  theatre.  Hart  died  in  1683,  within  a 
year  of  his  being  bought  off, 

Kynaston,  in  his  way,  was  also  a  celebrity.  As 
a  handsome  boy  he  had  been  renowned  for  playing 
heroines,  and  he  afterwards  acquired  celebrity  by 
his  dignified  impersonation  of  kings  and  tyrants. 
Betterton,  the  greatest  of  all  the  Charles  II. 
actors,  also  played  occasionally  at  Dorset  Gardens. 
Pope  knew  him ;  Dryden  was  his  friend ;  Kneller 
painted  him.  He  was  probably  the  greatest 
Hamlet  that  ever  appeared ;  and  Gibber  sums  up 
all  eulogy  of  him  when  he  says,  "  I  never  heard  a 
line  in  tragedy  come  from  Betterton  wherein  my 
judgment,  my  ear,  and  my  imagination  were  not 
fully  satisfied,  which  since  his  time  I  cannot  equally 
say  of  any  one  actor  whatsoever."  The  enchantment 
of  his  voice  was  such,  adds  the  same  excellent 
dramatic  critic,  that  the  multitude  no  more  cared 
for  sense  in  the  words  he  spoke,  "  than  our  musical 
connoiseurs  think  it  essential  in  the  celebrated  airs 
of  an  Italian  opera." 

Even  when  Whitefriars  was  at  its  grandest,  and 
plumes  moved  about  its  narrow  river-side  streets, 
Dorset  House  was  its  central  and  most  stately 
mansion.  It  was  originally  a  mansion  with  gardens, 
belonging  to  a  Bishop  of  Winchester;  but  about 
the  year  12 17  (Henry  III.)  a  lease  was  granted 
by  William,  Abbot  of  Westminster,  to  Richard, 
Bishop  of  Sarum,  at  the  yearly  rent  of  twenty 
shillings,  the  Abbot  retaining  the  advowson  of 
St.  Bride's  Church,  and  promising  to  impart  to  the 
said  bishop  any  needful  ecclesiastical  advice.  It 
afterwards  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Sackvilles, 
held  at  first  by  a  long  lease  from  the  see,'  but 
was  eventually  alienated  by  the  good  Bishop  Jewel. 
A  grant  in  161 1  (James  I.)  confirmed  the  manor  of 
Salisbury  Court  to  Richard,  Earl  of  Dorset, 

The  Earl  of  Dorset,  to  whom  Bishop  Jewel 
alienated  the  Whitefriars  House,  was  the  father  of 
the  poet,  Thomas  Sackville,  Lord  High  Treasurer 
to  Queen  Elizabeth,  The  bishop  received  in 
exchange  for  the  famous  old  house  a  piece 
of  land  near  Cricklade,  in  Wiltshire.     The  poet 


iqS 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Whltefriars. 


earl  was  that  wise  old  statesman  who  began  "  The 
Mirror  for  Magistrates,"  an  allegorical  poem  of 
gloomy  power,  in  which  the  poet  intended  to 
make  all  the  great  statesmen  of  England  since  the 
Conquest  pass  one  by  one  to  tell  their  troublous 
stories.  He,  however,  only  lived  to  write  one 
legend — that  of  Henry  Stafford,  Duke  of  Bucking- 


Went  on  three  feet,  and  sometimes  crept  on  four, 
With  old  lame  bones,  that  rattled  by  his  side  ; 
His  scalp  all  pil'd,  and  he  with  eld  forelore, 
His  wither'd  fist  still  knocking  at  death's  door  ; 
Fumbling  and  drivelling,  as  he  draws  his  breath  ; 
For  brief,  the  shape  and  messenger  of  death." 

At  the  Restoration,  the  Marquis  of  Newcastle, 
-the  author  of  a  magnificent  book  on  horseman- 


bayxard's  castle,  from  a  view  published  in  1790  {see  page  200). 


ham.     One   of  his  finest  and  most  Holbeinesque 
passages  relates  to  old  age  : — 

"  And  next  in  order  sad.  Old  Age  we  found; 
His  beard  all  hoar,  his  eyes  hollow  and  blind  ; 
With  drooping  cheer  still  poring  on  the  ground. 
As  on  the  place  where  Nature  him  assigned 
To  rest,  when  that  the  sisters  had  untwined 
His  vital  thread,  and  ended  with  their  knife 
The  fleeting  course  of  fast  declining  life. 
Crooked-back'd  he  was,  tooth-shaken,  and  blear-eyed, 


ship— and  his  pedantic  wife,  whom  Scott  has 
sketched  so  well  in  "  Peveril  of  the  Peak,"  inha- 
bited a  part  of  Dorset  House ;  but  whether  Great 
Dorset  House  or  Little  Dorset  House,  topographers 
do  not  record.  "Great  Dorset  House,"  says 
Mr.  Peter  Cunningham,  quoting  Lady  Anne 
Clifford's  "  Memoirs,"  "  was  the  jointure  house  of 
Cicely  Baker,  Dowager  Countess  of  Dorset,  who 
died  in  it  in  16 15  (James  I.)." 


Rl.ickfriar ,  ] 


A   POET   EARL. 


199 


206 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Blackfriars, 


CHAPTER      XVIII. 
BLACKFRIARS. 

Three  Norman  Fortresses  on  the  Thames'  Bank — The  Black  Parliament — The  Trial  of  Katherine  of  Arragon— Shakespeare  a  Blackfriars  Manager 
— The  Blackfriars  Puritans — The  Jesuit  Sermon  at  Hunsdon  House — Fatal  Accident — Extraordinary  Escapes — Queen  Elizabeth  at  Lord 
Herbert's  Marriage — Old  Blackfriars  Bridge — ^Johnson  and  Mylne — Laying  of  the  Stone — The  Inscription — A  Toll  Riot — Failure  of  the 
Bridge — The  New  Bridge — Bridge  Street — Sir  Richard  Phillips  and  his  Works — Painters  in  Blackfriars — The  King's  Printing  Office — 
Printing  House  Square — The  Times  and  its  History — Walter's  Enterprise — ^War  with  the  Dispatch — The  gigantic  Swindling  Scheme  exposed 
by  the  Tijnes — Apothecaries'  Hall — Quarrel  with  the  College  of  Physicians. 


On  the  river-side,  between  St.  Paul's  and  White- 
friars,  there  stood,  in  the  Middle  Ages,  three  Norman 
fortresses.  Castle  Baynard  and  the  old  tower  of 
Mountfiquet  were  two  ef  them.  Baynard  Castle, 
granted  to  the  Earls  of  Clare  and  afterwards 
rebuilt  by  Humphrey  Duke  of  Gloucester,  was 
the  palace  in  which  the  Duke  of  Buckingham 
offered  the  crown  to  his  wily  confederate,  Richard 
the  Crookback.  In  Queen  Elizabeth's  time  it 
was  granted  to  the  Earls  of  Pembroke,  who  lived 
there  in  splendour  till  the  Great  Fire  melted 
their  gold,  calcined  their  jewels,  and  drove  them 
into  the  fashionable  flood  that  was  already  moving 
westward.  Mountfiquet  Castle  was  pulled  down  in 
1276,  when  Hubert  de  Berg,  Earl  of  Kent,  trans- 
planted a  colony  of  Black  Dominican  friars  from 
Holbom,  near  Lincoln's  Inn,  to  the  river-side, 
south  of  Ludgate  Hill.  Yet  so  conservative  is 
even  Time  in  England,  that  a  recent  correspondent 
oi Notes  and  Queries  points  out  a  piece  of  mediaeval 
walling  and  the  fragment  of  a  buttress,  still  standing, 
at  the  foot  of  the  Times  Office,  in  Printing  House 
Square,  which  seem  to  have  formed  part  of  the 
Stronghold  of  the  Mountfiquets.  This  interesting 
relic  is  on  the  left  hand  of  Queen  Victoria  Street, 
going  up  from  the  bridge,  just  where  there  was 
formerly  a  picturesque  but  dangerous  descent  by  a 
flight  of  break-neck  stone  steps.  At  the  right-hand 
side  of  the  same  street  stands  an  old  rubble  chalk 
wall,  even  older.  It  is  just  past  the  new  house  of 
the  Bible  Society,  and  seems  to  have  formed  part 
of  the  old  City  wall,  which  at  first  ended  at  Baynard 
Castle.  The  rampart  advanced  to  Mountfiquet, 
and,  lastly,  to  please  and  protect  the  Dominicans, 
was  pushed  forward  outside  Ludgate  to  the  Fleet, 
which  served  as  a  moat,  the  Old  Bailey  being  an 
advanced  work. 

King  Edward  I.  and  Queen  Eleanor  heaped  many 
gifts  on  these  sable  friars.  Charles  V.  of  France  was 
lodged  at  their  monastery  when  he  visited  England, 
but  his  nobles  resided  in  Henry's  newly-built 
palace  of  Bridewell,  .a  gallery  being  thrown  over 
the  Fleet  and  driven  through  the  City  wall,  to  serve 
as  a  communication  between  the  two  mansions. 
Henry  held    the    "Black     Parliament"    in    this 


monastery,  and  here  Cardinal  Campeggio  presided 
at  the  trial  which  ended  with  the  tyrant's  divorce 
from  the  ill-used  Katherine  of  Arragon.  In  the 
same  house  the  Parliament  also  sat  that  condemned 
Wolsey,  and  sent  him  to  beg  "  a  little  earth  for 
charity"  of  the  monks  of  Leicester.  The  rapa- 
cious king  laid  his  rough  hand  on  the  treasures  of 
the  house  in  1538,  and  Edward  VI.  sold  the  hall 
and  prior's  lodgings  to  Sir  Francis  Bryan,  a  courtier, 
afterwards  granting  Sir  Francis  Cawarden,  Master 
of  the  Revels,  the  whole  house  and  precincts  of  the 
Preacher  Friars,  the  yearly  value  being  then  valued 
at  nineteen  pounds.  The  holy  brothers  were  dis- 
persed to  beg  or  thieve,  and  the  church  was  pulled 
down,  but  the  mischievous  right  of  sanctuary  con- 
tinued. 

And  now  we  come  to  the  event  which  connects 
the  old  monastic  ground  with  the  name  of  the  great 
genius  of  England.  James  Burbage  (afterwards 
Shakespeare's  friend  and  fellow  actor),  and  ofher 
servants  of  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  tormented  out  of 
the  City  by  the  angry  edicts  of  over-scrupulous  Lord 
Mayors,  took  shelter  in  the  Precinct,  and  there,  in 
1578,  erected  a  playhouse  (Playhouse  Yard).  Every 
attempt  was  in  vain  made  to  crush  the  intruders. 
About  the  year  1586,  according  to  the  best  autho- 
rities, the  young  Shakespeare  came  to  London  and 
joined  the  company  at  the  Blackfriars  Theatre. 
Only  three  years  later  we  find  the  new  arrival — 
and  this  is  one  of  the  unsolvable  mysteries  of 
Shakespeare's  life — one  of  sixteen  sharers  in  the 
prosperous  though  persecuted  theatre.  It  is  true 
that  Mr.  Halliwell  has  lately  discovered  that  he 
was  not  exactly  a  proprietor,  but  only  an  actor, 
receiving  a  share  of  the  profits  of  the  house, 
exclusive  of  the  galleries  (the  boxes  and  dress 
circle  of  those  days),  but  this  is,  after  all,  only  a 
lessening  of  the  difficulty ;  and  it  is  almost  as 
remarkable  that  a  young,  unknown  Warwickshire 
poet  should  receive  such  profits  as  it  is  that  he 
should  have  held  a  sixteenth  of  the  whole  pr6perty. 
Without  the  generous  patronage  of  such  patrons 
as  the  Earl  of  Southampton  or  Lord  Brooke,  how 
could  the  young  actor  have  thriven  ?  He  was  only 
twenty-six,  and   may   have   written    "Venus    and 


Blackfriars.] 


THE  PURITAN   FEATHER-SELLERS. 


201 


Adonis  "  or  "  Lucrece ;"  yet  the  first  of  these  poems 
was  not  pubUshed  till  1593.  He  may  already,  it 
is  true,  have  adapted  one  or  two  tolerably  success- 
ful historical  plays,  and,  as  Mr.  Collier  thinks,  might 
have  written  The  Comedy  of  Errors,  Love's  Labour's 
Lost,  or  The  Two  Gcritlemen  of  Verona.  One  thing 
is  certain,  that  in  1587  five  companies  of  players, 
including  the  Blackfriars  Company,  performed  at 
Stratford,  and  in  his  native  town  Mr.  Collier  thinks 
Shakespeare  first  proved  himself  useful  to  his  new 
comrades. 

In  1589  the  Lord  Mayor  closed  two  theatres 
for  ridiculing  the  Puritans.  Burbage  and  his 
friends,  alarmed  at  this,  petitioned  the  Privy 
Council,  and  pleaded  that  they  had  never  intro- 
duced into  their  plays  matters  of  state  or  religion. 
The  Blackfriars  company,  in  1593,  began  to  build 
a  summer  theatre,  the  Globe,  in  Southwark  \  and 
Mr.  Collier,  remembering  that  this  was  the  very 
year  "  Venus  and  Adonis '"' was  pubUshed,  attributes 
some  great  gift  of  the  Earl  of  Southampton  to  Shake- 
speare to  have  immediately  followed  this  poem, 
which  was  dedicated  to  him.  By  1594  the  poet  had 
written  King  Richard  II.  and  Kittg  Richard  III, 
and  Burbage's  son  Richard  had  made  himself  famous 
as  the  first  representative  of  the  crook-backed  king. 
In  1596  we  find  Shakespeare  and  his  partners  (only 
eight  now)  petitioning  the  Privy  Council  to  allow 
them  to  repair  and  enlarge  their  theatre,  which  the 
Puritans  of  Blackfriars  wanted  to  close.  The 
Council  allowed  the  repairs,  but  forbade  the 
enlargement.  At  this  time  Shakespeare  was  living 
near  the  Bear  Garden,  Southwark,  to  be  close  to 
the  Globe.  He  was  now  evidently  a  thriving, 
"warm"  man,  for  in  1597  he  purchased  for  ^Qdo 
New  Place,  one  of  the  best  houses  in  Stratford, 
In  1 61 3  we  find  Shakespeare  purchasing  a  plot 
of  ground  not  far  from  Blackfriars  Theatre,  and 
abutting  on  a  street  leading  down  to  Puddle 
Wharf,  "right  against  the  king's  majesty's  ward- 
robe ;"  but  he  had  retired  to  Stratford,  and  given 
up  London  and  the  stage  before  this.  The  deed 
of  this  sale  was  sold  in  1841  for  ;£,\(:>2  5s. 

In  1608  the  Lord  Mayor  and  aldermen  of  London 
made  a  final  attempt  to  crush  the  Blackfriars 
players,  but  failing  to  prove  to  the  Lord  Chancellor 
that  the  City  had  ever  exercised  any  authority 
within  the  precinct  and  liberty  of  Blackfriars,  their 
cause  fell  to  the  ground.  The  Corporation  then 
opened  a  negotiation  for  purchase  with  Burbage, 
Shakespeare,  and  the  other  (now  nine)  shareholders. 
The  players  asked  about  ^^7,000,  Shakespeare's  four 
shares  being  valued  at  ;^i,433  6s.  8d.,  including 
the  wardrobe  and  properties,  estimated  at  ^500. 
The  poet's  income  at  this  time  Mr.  Collier  esti- 


mates at  ;^40o  a  year.  The  Blackfriars  Theatre 
was  pulled  down  in  Cromwell's  time  (1655),  ^.nd 
houses  built  in  its  room. 

Randolph,  the  dramatist,  a  pupil  of  Ben  Jonson's, 
ridicules,  in  The  Muses'  Looking-Glass,  that  strange 
"  morality "  play  of  his,  the  Puritan  feather-sellers 
of  Blackfriars,  whom  Ben  Jonson  also  taunts  j 
Randolph's  pretty  Puritan,  Mrs.  Flowerdew,  says 
of  the  ungodly  of  Blackfriars  ; — 

"  Indeed,  it  sometimes  pricks  my  conscience, 
I  come  to  sell  'em  pins  and  looking-glasses." 

To  which  her  friend,  Mr.  Bird,  replies,  with  the  sly 
sanctity  of  Tartuffe  : — 

' '  I  have  this  custom,  too,  for  my  feathers  ; 
'Tis  fit  that  we,  which  are  sincere  professors, 
Should  gain  by  infidels. " 

Ben  Jonson,  that  smiter  of  all  such  hypocrites, 
wrote  Volpone  at  his  house  in  Blackfriars,  where  he 
laid  the  scene  of  The  Alchymist.  The  Friars  were 
fashionable,  however,  in  spite  of  the  players,  for 
Vandyke  lived. in  the  precinct  for  nine  years  (he 
died  in  1641);  and  the  wicked  Earl  and  Countess 
of  Somerset  resided  in  the  same  locality  when  they 
poisoned  their  former  favourite.  Sir  Thomas  Over- 
bury.  As  late  as  1735,  Mr.  Peter  Cunningham  says, 
there  was  an  attempt  to  assert  precinct  privileges, 
but  years  before  sheriffs  had  arrested  in  the  Friars. 
In  1623  Blackfriars  was  the  scene  of  a  most 
fatal  and  extraordinary  accident.  It  occurred  in 
the  chief  house  of  the  Friary,  then  a  district 
declining  fast  in  respectability.  Hunsdon  House 
derived  its  name  from  Queen  Elizabeth's  favourite 
cousin,  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  Henry  Carey, 
Baron  Hunsdon,  and  was  at  the  time  occupied  by 
Count  de  Tillier,  the  French  ambassador.  About 
three  o'clock  on  Sunday,  October  26th,  a  large 
Roman  Catholic  congregation  of  about  three  hun- 
dred persons,  worshipping  to  a  certain  degree  in 
stealth,  not  without  fear  from  the  Puritan  feather- 
makers  of  the  theatrical  neighbourhood,  had  assem- 
bled in  a  long  garret  on  the  third  and  uppermost 
storey.  Master  Drury,  a  Jesuit  prelate  of  celebrity, 
had  drawn  together  this  crowd  of  timid  people. 
The  garret,  looking  over  the  gateway,  was  ap- 
proached by  a  passage  having  a  door  opening  into 
the  street,  and  also  by  a  corridor  from  the  ambas- 
sador's withdrawing-room.  The  garret  was  about 
seventeen  feet  wide  and  forty  feet  long,  with  a 
vestry  for  a  priest  partitioned  off  at  one  end.  In 
the  middle  of  the  garret,  and  near  the  wall,  stood 
a  raised  table  and  chair  for  the  preacher.  The 
gentry  sat  on  chairs  and  stools  facing  the  pulpit,  the 
rest  stood  behind,  crowding  as  far  as  the  head  of 
the  stairs.     At  the  appointed  hour  Master  Drury, 


202 


OLD  AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[  Blackfriars. 


the  priest,  came  from  the  inner  room  in  white  robe 
and  scarlet  stole,  an  attendant  carrying  a  book 
and  an  hour-glass,  by  which  to  measure  his 
sermon.  He  knelt  down  at  the  chair  for  about  an 
Ave  Maria,  but  uttered  no  audible  prayer.  He 
then  took  the  Jesuits*  Testament,  and  read  for  the 
text  the  Gospel  for  the  day,  which  was,  according 
to  the  Gregorian  Calendar,  the  twenty-first  Sunday 
after  Pentecost — "Therefore  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  like  unto  a  man  being  a  king  that  would 
make  an  account  of  his  servants.  And  when  he 
began  to  make  account  there  was  one  presented 
unto  him  that  owed  him  ten  thousand  talents." 
Having  read  the  text,  the  Jesuit  preacher  sat  down, 
and  putting  on  his  head  a  red  quilt  cap,  with  a  white 
linen  one  beneath  it,  commenced  his  sermon.  He 
had  spoken  for  about  half  an  hour  when  the 
calamity  happened.  The  great  weight  of  the  crowd 
in  the  old  room  suddenly  snapped  the  main 
summer  beam  of  the  floor,  which  instantly  crashed 
in  and  fell  into  the  room  below.  The  main  beams 
there  also  snapped  and  broke  through  to  the 
ambassador's  drawing-room  over  the  gate-house,  a 
distance  of  twenty-two  feet.  Only  a  part,  however, 
of  the  gallery  floor,  immediately  over  Father  Rud- 
gate's  chamber,  a  small  room  used  for  secret  mass, 
gave  way.  The  rest  of  the  floor,  being  less  crowded, 
stood  firm,  and  the  people  on  it,  having  no  other 
means  of  escape,  drew  their  knives  and  cut  a  way 
through  a  plaster  wall  into  a  neighbouring  room. 

A  contemporary  pamphleteer,  who  visited  the 
ruins  and  wrote  fresh  from  the  first  outburst  of 
sympathy,  says  :  "  What  ear  without  tingling  can 
bear  the  doleful  and  confused  cries  of  such  a  troop 
of  men,  women,  and  children,  all  falling  suddenly 
in  the  same  pit,  and  apprehending  with  one  horror 
the  same  ruin?  What  eye  can  behold  without 
inundation  of  tears  such  a  spectacle  of  men  over- 
whelmed with  breaches  of  mighty  timber,  buried  in 
rubbish  and  smothered  with  dust?  What  heart 
without  evaporating  in  sighs  can  ponder  the  burden 
of  deepest  sorrows  and  lamentations  of  parents, 
children,  husbands,  wives,  kinsmen,  friends,  for 
their  dearest  pledges  and  chiefest  comforts  ?  This 
world  all  bereft  and  swept  away  with  one  blast  of 
the  same  dismal  tempest." 

The  news  of  the  accident  fast  echoing  through 
London,  Serjeant  Finch,  the  Recorder,  and  the 
Lord  Mayor  and  aldermen  at  once  provided  for  the 
safety  of  the  ambassador's  family,  who  were  natu- 
rally shaking  in  their  shoes,  and  shutting  up  the 
gates  to  keep  off  the  curious  and  thievish  crowd,  set 
guards  at  all  the  Blackfriars  passages.  Workmen 
were  employed  to  remove  the  debt-is  and  rescue  the 
sufferers  who  were  still  alive.     The  pamphleteer. 


again  rousing  himself  to  the  occasion,  and  turning 
on  his  tears,  says  : — "  At  the  opening  hereof  what  a 
chaos  !  what  fearful  objects  !  what  lamentable  repre- 
sentations !  Here  some  buried,  some  dismembered, 
some  only  parts  of  men  ;  here  some  wounded  and 
weltering  in  their  own  and  others'  blood;  others 
putting  forth  their  fainting  hands  and  crying 
out  for  help.  Here  some  gasping  and  panting 
for  breath  ;  others  stifled  for  want  of  air.  So  the 
most  of  them  being  thus  covered  with  dust,  their 
death  was  a  kind  of  burial."  All  that  night  and 
part  of  the  next  day  the  workmen  spent  in  removing 
the  bodies,  and  the  inquest  was  then  held.  It  was 
found  that  the  main  beams  were  only  ten  inches 
square,  and  had  two  mortise-holes,  where  the 
girders  were  inserted,  facing  each  other,  so  that 
only  three  inches  of  solid  timber  were  left.  The 
main  beam  of  the  lower  room,  about  thirteen  inches 
square,  without  mortise-holes,  broke  obliquely  near 
the  end.  No  wall  gave  way,  and  the  roof  and 
ceiling  of  the  garret  remained  entire.  Father 
Drury  perished,  as  did  also  Father  Rudgate,  who 
was  in  his  own  apartment,  underneath.  Lady 
Webb,  of  Southwark,  Lady  Blackstone's  daughter, 
from  Scroope's  Court,  Mr.  Fowell,  a  Warwickshire 
gentleman,  and  many  tradesmen,  servants,  and 
artisans — ninety-five  in  all — perished.  Some  of 
the  escapes  seemed  almost  miraculous.  Mistress 
Lucie  Penruddock  fell  between  Lady  Webb  and 
a  servant,  who  were  both  killed,  yet  was  saved  by 
her  chair  falling  over  her  head.  Lady  Webb's 
daughter  was  found  alive  near  her  dead  mother, 
and  a  girl  named  Elizabeth  Sanders  was  also  saved 
by  the  dead  who  fell  and  covered  her.  A  Protestant 
scholar,  though  one  of  the  very  undermost,  escaped 
by  the  timbers  arching  over  him  and  some  of  them 
slanting  against  the  wall.  He  tore  a  way  out 
through  the  laths  of  the  ceiling  by  main  strength, 
then  crept  between  two  joists  to  a  hole  where  he 
saw  light,  and  was  drawn  through  a  door  by  one 
of  the  ambassador's  family.  He  at  once  returned 
to  rescue  others.  There  was  a  girl  of  ten  who 
cried  to  him,  "  Oh,  my  mother  ! — oh,  my  sister ! — 
they  are  down  under  the  timber."  He  told  her  to 
be  patient,  and  by  God's  grace  they  would  be 
quickly  got  forth.  The  child  replied,  "  This  will 
be  a  great  scandal  to  our  religion."  One  of  the 
men  that  fell  said  to  a  fellow-sufferer,  "  Oh,  what 
advantage  our  adversaries  will  take  at  this  !"  The 
other  replied,  "  If  it  be  God's  will  this  should  befall 
us,  what  can  we  say  to  it  ?  "  One  gentleman  was 
saved  by  keeping  near  the  stairs,  while  his  friend, 
who  had  pushed  near  the  pulpit,  perished. 

Many  of  those  who  were  saved  died  in  a  few 
hours  after  their  extrication.     The  bodies  of  I.ady 


Blackfriars.] 


THE  FATAL  VESPERS. 


203 


Webb,  Mistress  Udall,  and  Lady  Blackstone's 
daughter,  were  carried  to  Ely  House,  Holborn,  and 
there  buried  in  the  back  courtyard.  In  the  fore 
courtyard,  by  the  French  ambassador's  house,  a 
huge  grave,  eighteen  feet  long  and  twelve  feet 
broad,  was  dug,  and  forty-four  corpses  piled  within 
it.  In  another  pit,  twelve  feet  long  and  eight  feet 
broad,  in  the  ambassador's  garden,  they  buried 
fifteen  more.  Others  were  interred  in  St.  Andrew's, 
St.  Bride's,  and  Blackfriars  churches.  The  list  of 
the  killed  and  wounded  is  curious,  from  its  topo- 
graphical allusions.  Amongst  other  entries,  we  find 
*'  John  Halifax,  a  water-bearer  "  (in  the  old  times 
of  street  conduits  the  water-bearer  was  an  important 
person) ;  "  a  son  of  Mr.  Flood,  the  scrivener,  in 
Holborn ;  a  man  of  Sir  Ives  Pemberton ;  Thomas 
Brisket,  his  wife,  son,  and  maid,  in  Montague 
Close ;  Richard  Fitzgarret,  of  Gray's  Inn,  gentle- 
man ;  Davie,  an  Irishman,  in  Angell  Alley,  Gray's 
Inn,  gentleman ;  Sarah  Watson,  daughter  of  Master 
Watson,  chirurgeon;  Master  Grimes,  near  the 
'Horse  Shoe '  tavern,  in  Drury  Lane  ;  John  Bevan, 
at  the  '  Seven  Stars',  in  Drury  Lane ;  Francis  Man, 
Thieving  Lane,  Westminster,"  &c.  As  might  have 
been  expected,  the  fanatics  of  both  parties  had 
much  to  say  about  this  terrible  accident.  The 
Catholics  declared  that  the  Protestants,  knowing 
this  to  be  a  chief  place  of  meeting  for  men  of  their 
faith,  had  secretly  drawn  out  the  pins,  or  sawn 
the  supporting  timbers  partly  asunder.  The  Pro- 
testants, on  the  other  hand,  lustily  declared  that 
the  planks  would  not  bear  such  a  weight  of  Romish 
sin,  and  that  God  was  displeased  with  their  pulpits 
and  altars,  their  doctrine  and  sacrifice.  One 
zealot  remembered  that,  at  the  return  of  Prince 
Charles  from  the  madcap  expedition  to  Spain,  a 
Catholic  had  lamented,  or  was  said  to  have  lamented, 
the  street  bonfires,  as  there  would  be  never  a  fagot 
left  to  burn  the  heretics.  **  If  it  had  been  a  Pro- 
testant chapel,"  the  Puritans  cried,  ''the  Jesuits 
would  have  called  the  calamity  an  omen  of  the 
speedy  downfall  of  heresy."  A  Catholic  writer 
replied  "  with  a  word  of  comfort,"  and  pronounced 
the  accident  to  be  a  presage  of  good  fortune  to 
Catholics  and  of  the  overthrow  of  error  and  heresy. 
This  zealous,  but  not  well-informed,  writer  compared 
Father  Drury's  death  with  that  of  Zuinglius,  who 
fell  in  battle,  and  with  that  of  Calvin,  "  who,  being 
in  despair,  and  calling  upon  the  devil,  gave  up 
his  wicked  soul,  swearing,  cursing,  and  blas- 
pheming." So  intolerance,  we  see,  is  neither 
specially  Protestant  nor  Catholic,  but  of  every 
party.  "  The  Fatal  Vespers,"  as  that  terrible  day 
at  Blackfriars  was  afterwards  called,  were  long 
remembered  with  a  shudder  by  Catholic  England. 


In  a  curious  old  pamphlet  entitled  "  Something 
Written  by  Occasion  of  that  Fatall  and  Memorable 
Accident  in  the  Blacke-friers,  on  Sonday,  being  the 
26th  October,  1623,  sfi/o  antiquo,  and  the  5th 
November,  stilo  twvo,  or  Romano^'  the  author  re- 
lates a  singular  escape  of  one  of  the  listeners. 
'*  When  all  things  were  ready,"  he  says,  "  and  the 
prayer  finished,  the  Jesuite  tooke  for  his  text  the 
gospell  of  the  day,  being  (as  I  take  it)  the  22nd 
Sunday  after  Trinity,  and  extracted  out  of  the  i8th 
of  Matthew,  beginning  at  the  21st  verse,  to  the  end. 
The  story  concerns  forgiveness  of  sinnes,  and  de- 
scribeth  the  wicked  cruelty  of  the  unjust  steward, 
whom  his  maister  remitted,  though  he  owed  hira 
10,000  talents,  but  he  would  not  forgive  his  fellow 
a  100  pence,  whereupon  he  was  called  to  a  nev/ 
reckoning,  and  cast  into  prison,  and  then  the  par- 
ticular words  are,  which  he  insisted  upon,  the  34th 
verse :  *  So  his  master  was  wroth,  and  delivered 
him  to  the  jaylor,  till  he  should  pay  all  that  was 
due  to  him.'  For  the  generall,  he  urged  many 
good  doctrines  and  cases;  for  the  particular,  he 
modelled  out  that  fantasie  of  purgatory,  which  he 
followed  with  a  full  crie  of  pennance,  satisfaction, 
paying  of  money,  and  such  like. 

"  While  this  exercise  was  in  hand,  a  gentleman 
brought  up  his  friend  to  see  the  place,  and  bee 
partaker  of  the  sermon,  who  all  the  time  he  was 
going  up  stairs  cried  oiit,  *  Whither  doe  I  goe  ?  I 
protest  my  heart  trembles ; '  and  when  he  came 
into  the  roome,  the  priest  being  very  loud,  he  whis- 
pered his  friend  in  the  eare  that  he  was  afraid,  for, 
as  he  supposed,  the  room  did  shake  under  him ; 
at  which  his  friend,  between  smiling  and  anger,  left 
him,  and  went  close  to  the  wall  behind  the  preacher's 
chaire.  The  gentleman  durst  not  stirre  from  the 
staires,  and  came  not  full  two  yards  in  the  roome, 
when  on  a  sudden  there  was  a  kinde  of  murmuring 
amongst  the  people,  and  some  were  heard  to  say, 
'  The  roome  shakes ; '  which  words  being  taken  up 
one  of  another,  the  whole  company  rose  up  with  a 
strong  suddainnesse,  and  some  of  the  women 
screeched.  I  cannot  compare  it  better  than  ta 
many  passengers  in  a  boat  in  a  tempest,  who  are 
commanded  to  sit  still  and  let  the  waterman  alone 
with  managing  the  oares,  but  some  unruly  people 
rising  overthrowes  them  all.  So  was  this  company 
served ;  for  the  people  thus  affrighted  started  up 
with  extraordinary  quicknesse,  and  at  an  instant 
the  maine  summer  beame  broke  in  sunder,  being 
mortised  in  the  wall  some  five  foot  from  the  same ; 
and  so  the  whole  roofe  or  floore  fell  at  once,  with 
all  the  people  that  stood  thronging  on  it,  and 
with  the  violent  impetuosity  drove  downe  the 
nether  roome  quite  to  the  ground,  so  that  they  fell 


204 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Blackfriars. 


twenty-four  foot  high,  and  were  most  of  them  buried 
and  bruised  betweene  the  rubbish  and  the  timber ; 
and  though  some  were  questionlesse  smothered, 
yet  for  the  most  part  they  were  hurt  and  bled,  and 
being  taken  forth  the  next  day,  and  laid  all  along 
in  the  gallery,  presented  to  the  lookers-on  a  wofuU 
spectacle  of  fourscore  and  seventeen  dead  persons, 
besides  eight  or  nine  which  perished  since,  unable 
to  recover  themselves. 


of  a  grand  festivity  at  the  house  of  Lord  Herbert, 
which  the  Queen  honoured  by  her  attendance. 
The  account  is  worth  inserting,  if  only  for  the  sake 
of  a  characteristic  bit  of  temper  which  the  Queen 
exhibited  on  the  occasion, 

"  Lord  Herbert,  son  of  WiUiam,  fourth  Earl  of 
Worcester,"  says  Pennant,  "  had  a  house  in  Black- 
friars, which  Queen  EHzabeth,  in  1600,  honoured 
with   her   presence,   on   occasion    of  his   nuptials 


;:^       ^ 


RICHARD   BURBAGE,    FROM  THE  ORIGINAL   PORTRAIT   IN   DULWICH   COLLEGE   {see  page  201). 


"  They  that  kept  themselves  close  to  the  walls, 
or  remained  by  the  windows,  or  held  by  the  rafters, 
or  settled  themselves  by  the  stayres,  or  were  driven 
away  by  fear  and  suspition,  sauved  themselves 
without  further  hurt ;  but  such  as  seemed  more 
devoute,  and  thronged  neere  the  preacher,  perished 
in  a  moment  with  himselfe  and  other  priests  and 
Jesuites  ;  and  this  was  the  summe  of  that  unhappy 
disaster." 

In  earlier  days  Blackfriars  had  been  a  locality 
much  inhabited  by  fashionable  people,  especially 
about  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  Pennant 
quotes  from  the  Sydney  Papers  a  curious  account 


with  the  daughter  and  heiress  of  John,  Lord 
Russell,  son  of  Francis,  Earl  of  Bedford.  The 
queen  was  met  at  the  water-side  by  the  bride, 
and  carried  to  her  house  in  a  lectica  by  six 
knights.  Her  majesty  dined  there,  and  supped 
in  the  same  neighbourhood  with  Lord  Cobham, 
where  there  was  *a  memorable  maske  of  eight 
ladies,  and  a  strange  dawnce  new  invented.  Their 
attire  is  this  :  each  hath  a  skirt  of  cloth  of  silver, 
a  mantell  of  coruscian  taffete,  cast  under  the 
arme,  and  their  haire  loose  about  their  shoulders, 
curiously  knotted  and  interlaced.  Mrs.  Fitton 
leade.      These  eight  ladys  maskers  choose  eight 


Blaclcfriars.] 


OLD  BLACKFRIARS  BRIDGE. 


205 


ladies  more  to  dawnce  the  measures.  Mrs.  Fitton 
went  to  the  queen  and  weed  her  dawnce.  Her 
majesty  (the  love  of  Essex  rankUng  in  her  heart) 
asked  what  she  was?  ^''Affection"  she  said. 
"  Affection  /"  said   the  queen  ;  "  affection   is   false ; 


Sunday,  November  19,  1769.  It  was  built  from 
the  design  of  Robert  Mylne,  a  clever  young 
Scotch  engineer,  whose  family  had  been  master 
masons  to  the  kings  of  Scotland  for  five  hundred 
years.  Mylne  had  just  returned  from  a  pro- 
yet  her  majestie  rose  up  and  dawnced.'     At  this    fessional  tour  in  Italy,  where  he  had  followed  in 


LAYING  THE  FOUNDATION-STONE  OF  BLACKFRIARS  BRIDGE,    1760,    FROM   A  CONTEMPORARY  PRINT   {see  page  206). 


time  the  queen  was  sixty.  Surely,  as  Mr.  Walpole 
observed,  it  was  at  that  period  as  natural  for  her 
as  to  be  in  love !  I  must  not  forget  that  in  her 
passage  from  the  bride's  to  Lord  Cobham's  she 
went  through  the  house  of  Dr.  Puddin,  and  was 
presented  by  the  doctor  with  a  fan." 

Old  Blackfriars  Bridge,  pulled  down  a  few  years 
since,  was  begun   in    1760,   and   first  opened  on 
18 


the  footsteps  of  Vitruvius,  and  gained  the  first 
prize  at  the  Academy  of  St.  Luke.  He  arrived 
in  London  friendless  and  unknown,  and  at  once 
entered  into  competition  with  twenty  other  archi- 
tects for  the  new  bridge.  Among  these  rivals 
was  Smeaton,  the  great  engineer  (a  protege  of  Lord 
Bute's),  and  Dr.  Johnson's  friend,  Gwynn,  well 
known  for  his  admirable  work  on  London  improve- 


206 


OLD  AND    NEW    LONDON. 


[Blackfriars. 


ments.  The  committee  were,  however,  just  enough 
to  be  unanimous  in  favouring  the  young  unknown 
Scotchman,  and  he  carried  off  the  prize.  Directly 
it  was  known  that  Myine's  arches  were  to  be 
elUptical,  every  one  unacquainted  ^vith  the  subject 
began  to  write  in  favour  of  the  semi-circular  arch. 
Among  the  champions  Dr.  Johnson  was,  if  not  the 
most  ignorant,  the  most  rash. '  He  ^vrote  three 
letters  to  the  printer  of  the  Gazetteer,  praising 
Gwynn's  plans  and  denouncing  the  Scotch  con- 
queror. G^vynn  had  "coached  "  the  learned  Doctor 
in  a  very  unsatisfactory  way.  In  his  early  days  the 
giant  of  Bolt  Court  had  been  accustomed  to  get 
up  subjects  rapidly,  but  the  science  of  architecture 
was  not  so  easily  digested.  The  Doctor  contended 
"that  the  first  excellence  of  a  bridge  built  for 
commerce  over  a  large  river  is  strength."  So  far 
so  good ;  but  he  then  went  on  to  try  and  show 
that  the  pointed  arch  is  necessarily  weak,  and  here 
he  himself  broke  down.  He  allowed  that  there 
was  an  elliptical  bridge  at  Florence,  but  he  said 
carts  were  not  allowed  to  go  over  it,  which  proved 
its  fragility.  He  also  condemned  a  proposed  cast- 
iron  parapet,  in  imitation  of  one  at  Rome,  as  too 
poor  and  trifling  for  a  great  design.  He  allowed 
that  a  certain  arch  of  Perault's  was  elliptical,  but 
then  he  contended  that  it  had  to  be  held  together 
by  iron  clamps.  He  allowed  that  Mr.  Mylne  had 
gained  the  prize  at  Rome,  but  the  competitors,  the 
arrogant  despot  of  London  clubs  asserted,  were 
only  boys ;  and,  moreover,  architecture  had  sunk 
so  low  at  Rome,  that  even  the  Pantheon  had  been 
deformed  by  petty  decorations.  In  his  third  letter 
the  Doctor  grew  more  scientific,  axd  even  more 
confused.  He  was  very  angry  with  Mr.  Myine's 
friends  for  asserting  that  though  a  semi-ellipse 
might  be  weaker  than  a  semicircle,  it  had  quite 
strength  enough  to  support  a  bridge.  "I  again 
venture  to  declare,"  he  wrote — "  I  again  venture  to 
declare,  in  defiance  of  all  this  contemptuous  supe- 
riority" (how  arrogant  men  hate  other  people's 
arrogance  !),  "  that  a  straight  line  will  bear  no  weight. 
Not  even  the  science  of  Vasari  will  make  that  form 
strong  which  the  laws  of  nature  have  condemned 
to  weakness.  By  the  position  that  a  straight  line 
will  bear  nothing  is  meant  that  it  receives  no 
strength  from  straightness ;  for  that  many  bodies 
laid  in  straight  lines  will  support  weight  by  the 
cohesion  of  their  parts,  every  one  has  found  who 
has  seen  dishes  on  a  shelf,  or  a  thief  upon  the 
gallows.  It  is  not  denied  that  stones  may  be  so 
crushed  together  by  enormous  pressure  on  each 
side,  that  a  heavy  mass  may  be  safely  laid 
upon  them ;  but  the  strength  must  be  derived 
merely  from  the  lateral  resistance,  and  the  line  so 


loaded  will  be  itself  part  of  the  load.  The  semi- 
elliptical  arch  has  one  recommendation  yet  un- 
examined. We  are  told  that  it  is  difficult  of 
execution." 

In  the  face  of  this  noisy  newspaper  thunder, 
Mylne  went  on,  and  produced  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  bridges  in  England  for  ;^  15 2, 6 40  3s.  lod., 
actually  ^^163  less  than  the  original  estimate — an 
admirable  example  for  all  architects,  present  and  to 
come.  The  bridge,  which  had  eight  arches,  and  was 
995  yards  from  wharf  to  wharf,  was  erected  in  ten 
years  and  three  quarters.  Mylne  received  ;2^5oo 
a  year  and  ten  per  cent,  on  the  expenditure.  His 
claims,  however,  were  disputed,  and  not  allowed 
by  the  grateful  City  till  1776.  The  bridge-tolls 
were  bought  by  Government  in  1785,  and  the 
passage  then  became  free.  It  was  afterwards 
lowered,  and  the  open  parapet,  condemned  by 
Johnson,  removed.  It  was  supposed  that  Myine's 
mode  of  centreing  was  a  secret,  but  in  contempt 
of  all  quackery  he  deposited  exact  models  of  his 
system  in  the  British  Museum.  He  was  afterwards 
made  surveyor  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  and  in  181 1 
was  interred  near  the  tomb  of  Wren.  He  was  a 
despot  amongst  his  workmen,  and  ruled  them  with 
a  rod  of  iron.  However,  the  foundations  of  this 
bridge  were  never  safely  built,  and  latterly  the 
piers  began  visibly  to  subside.  The  semi-circular 
arches  would  have  been  far  stronger. 

The  foundation-stone  of  Blackfriars  Bridge  was 
laid  by  Sir  Thomas  Chitty,  Lord  Mayor,  on  the 
31st  of  October,  1760.  Horace  Walpole,  always 
Whiggish,  describing  the  event,  says  : — "  The  Lord 
Mayor  laid  the  first  stone  of  the  new  bridge  yester- 
day. There  is  an  inscription  on  it  in  honour  of 
Mr.  Pitt,  which  has  a  very  Roman  air,  though  very 
unclassically  expressed.  They  talk  of  the  conta- 
gion of  his  public  spirit ;  I  believe  they  had  not  got 
rid  of  their  panic  about  mad  dogs."  Several  gold, 
silver,  and  copper  coins  of  the  reign  of  George  II. 
(just  dead)  were  placed  under  the  stone,  with  a 
silver  medal  presented  to  Mr.  Mylne  by  the 
Academy  of  St.  Luke's,  and  upon  two  plates  of  tin 
— Bonnel  Thornton  said  they  should  have  been 
lead — was  engraved  a  very  shaky  Latin  inscrip- 
tion, thus  rendered  into  English  :— 

On  the  last  day  of  October,  in  the  year  1760, 

And  in  the  beginning  of  the  most  auspicious  reign  of 

George  the  Third, 

Sir  Thomas  Chitty,  Knight,  Lord  Mayor, 

laid  the  first  stone  of  this  Bridge, 

undertaken  by  the  Common  Council  of  London 

(amidst  the  rage  of  an  extensive  war) 

for  the  public  accommodation 

and  ornament  of  the  City ; 

Robert  Mylne  being  the  architect. 


Black  friars.] 


MYLNE,  THE   ARCHITECT. 


207 


And  that  there  might  remain  to  posterity 

a  monument  of  this  city's  affection  to  the  man 

who,  by  the  strength  of  his  genius, 

the  steadiness  of  his  mind, 

and  a  certain  kind  of  happy  contagion  of  his 

Probity  and  Spirit 

(under  the  Divine  favour 

and  fortunate  auspices  of  George  the  Second) 

recovered,  augmented,  and  secured 

the  British  Empire 

in  Asia,  Africa,  and  America, 

and  restored  the  ancient  reputation 

and  influence  of  his  country 

amongst  the  nations  of  Europe  ; 

the  citizens  of  London  have  unanimously  voted  this 

Bridge  to  be  inscribed  with  the  name  of 

William  Pitt. 

On  this  pretentious  and  unlucky  inscription,  that 
reckless  wit,  Bonnel  Thornton,  instantly  wrote  a 
squib,  under  the  obvious  pseudonym  of  the  "  Rev. 
Busby  Birch."  In  these  critical  and  political 
remarks  (which  he  entitled  "  City  Latin  ")  the  gay 
scofifer  professed  in  his  preface  to  prove  "almost 
every  word  and  every  letter  to  be  erroneous  and 
contrary  to  the  practice  of  both  ancients  and 
modems  in  this  kind  of  writing,"  and  appended  a 
plan  or  pattern  for  a  new  inscription.  The  clever 
little  lampoon  soon  ran  to  three  editions.  The 
ordinary  of  Newgate,  my  lord's  chaplain,  or  the 
masters  of  Merchant  Taylors',  Paul's,  or  Charter- 
house schools,  who  produced  the  wonderful  pon- 
tine inscription,  must  have  winced  under  the  blows 
of  this  jester's  bladderful  of  peas.  Thornton 
laughed  most  at  the  awkward  phrase  implying  that 
Mr.  Pitt  had  caught  the  happy  contagion  of  his  own 
probity  and  spirit.  He  said  that  "  Gulielmi  Pitt " 
should  have  been  "Gulielmi  Fossce."  Lastly,  he 
proposed,  for  a  more  curt  and  suitable  inscription, 
the  simple  words — 

"  GuiL.  Foss^, 

Patri  Patriae  D.D.D.  {i.e.,  Datur,  Dicatur,  Dedicatur)." 

Party  feeling,  as  usual  at  those  times,  was  rife. 
Mylne  was  a  friend  of  Paterson,  the  City  soUcitor, 
an  apt  scribbler  and  a  friend  of  Lord  Bute,  who  no 
doubt  favoured  his  young  countryman.  For,  being 
a  Scotchman,  Johnson  no  doubt  took  pleasure  in 
opposing  him,  and  for  the  same  reason  Churchill, 
in  his  bitter  poem  on  the  Cock  Lane  ghost,  after 
ridiculing  Johnson's  credulity,  goes  out  of  his  way 
to  sneer  at  Mylne  : — 

"  What  of  that  bridge  which,  void  of  sense, 
But  well  supplied  with  impudence, 
Englishmen,  knowing  not  the  Guild, 
Thought  they  might  have  the  claim  to  build  ; 
Till  Paterson,  as  white  as  milk. 
As  smooth  as  oil,  as  soft  as  silk, 
In  solemn  manner  had  decreed 
That,  on  the  other  side  the  Tweed, 


Art,  born  and  bred  and  fully  grown. 
Was  with  one  Mylne,  a  man  unknown  ? 
But  grace,  preferment,  and  renown 
Deserving,  just  arrived  in  town ; 
One  Mylne,  an  artist,  perfect  quite, 
Both  in  his  own  and  country's  right, 
As  fit  to  make  a  bridge  as  he, 
With  glorious  Patavinity, 
To  build  inscriptions,  worthy  found 
To  lie  for  ever  underground." 

In  1766  it  was  opened  for  foot  passengers,  the 
completed  portion  being  connected  with  the  shore 
by  a  temporary  wooden  structure ;  two  years  later 
it  was  made  passable  for  horses,  and  in  1769  it  was 
fully  opened.  An  unpopular  toll  of  one  halfpenny 
on  week-days  for  every  person,  and  of  one  penny 
on  Sundays,  was  exacted.  The  result  of  this  was 
that  while  the  Gordon  Riots  were  raging,  in  1780, 
the  too  zealous  Protestants,  forgetting  for  a  time 
the  poor  tormented  Papists,  attacked  and  burned 
down  the  toll-gates,  stole  the  money,  and  destroyed 
all  the  account-books.  Several  rascals'  lives  were 
lost,  and  one  rioter,  being  struck  with  a  bullet,  ran 
howling  for  thirty  or  forty  yards,  and  then  dropped 
down  dead.  Nevertheless,  the  iniquitous  toll 
continued  until  1785,  when  it  was  redeemed  by 
Government. 

The  bridge,  according  to  the  order  of  Common 
Council,  was  first  named  Pitt  Bridge,  and  the 
adjacent  streets  (in  honour  of  the  great  earl) 
Chatham  Place,  William  Street,  and  Earl  Street. 
But  the  first  name  of  the  bridge  soon  dropped  off, 
and  the  monastic  locality  asserted  its  prior  right. 
This  is  the  more  remarkable  (as  Mr.  Timbs  judi- 
ciously observes),  because  with  another  Thames 
bridge  the  reverse  change  took  place.  Waterloo 
Bridge  was  first  called  Strand  Bridge,  but  it  was 
soon  dedicated  by  the  people  to  the  memory  of 
the  most  famous  of  British  victories. 

The  ;£i$2,64o  that  the  bridge  cost  does  not 
include  the  ;^5,830  spent  in  altering  and  fiUing  up 
the  Fleet  Ditch,  or  the  ^2,167  the  cost  of  the  tem- 
porary wooden  bridge.  The  piers,  of  bad  Portland 
stone,  were  decorated  by  some  columns  of  unequal 
sizes,  and  the  line  of  parapet  was  low  and  curved. 
The  approaches  to  the  bridge  were  also  designed 
by  Mylne,  who  built  himself  a  house  at  the  corner 
of  Little  Bridge  Street.  The  walls  of  the  rooms 
were  adorned  with  classical  medallions,  and  on  the 
exterior  was  the  date  (1780),  with  Mylne's  crest, 
and  the  initials  "  R.  M."  Dr.  Johnson  became  a 
friend  of  Mylne's,  and  dined  with  him  at  this 
residence  at  least  on  one  occasion.  The  house 
afterwards  became  the  "  York  Hotel,"  and,  accord- 
ing to  Mr.  Timbs,  was  taken  down  in  1863. 

The  Bridge  repairs  (between  1833  and  1840),  by 


208 


OLD   AND  NEW  LONDON. 


rBl.ickfriars. 


Walker  and  Burgess,  engineers,  at  an  expense  of 
^74,000,  produced  a  loss  to  the  contractors ;  and 
the  removal  of  the  cornice  and  balustrade  spoiled 
the  bridge,  from  whence  old  Richard  Wilson,  the 
landscape-painter,  used  to  come  and  admire  the 
grand  view  of  St.  Paul's.  The  bridge  seemed  to  be 
as  unlucky  as  if  it  had  incurred  Dr.  Johnson's  curse. 
In  1843  the  Chamberlain  reported  to  the  Common 
Council  that  the  sum  of  ;;^ioo,96o  had  been 
9,lready  expended  in  repairing  Mylne's  faulty  work, 
besides  the  ;^8oo  spent  in  procuring  a  local  Act 
(4  WiUiam  IV,).  According  to  a  subsequent  report, 
;;^io,2oo  had  been  spent  in  six  years  in  repairing 
one  arch  alone.  From  1851  to  1859  the  expendi- 
ture had  been  at  the  rate  of  ;^6oo  a  year.  Boswell, 
indeed,  with  all  his  zealous  partiality  for  the  Scotch 
architect,  had  allowed  that  the  best  Portland  stone 
belonged  to  Government  quarries,  and  from  this 
Parliamentary  interest  had  debarred  Mylne. 

The  tardy  Common  Council  was  at  last  forced, 
in  common  decency,  to  build  a  new  bridge.  The 
architect  began  by  building  a  temporary  structure 
of  great  strength.  It  consisted  of  two  storeys — 
the  lower  for  carriages,  the  upper  for  pedestrians — 
and  stretching  990  feet  from  wharf  to  wharf  The 
lower  piles  were  driven  ten  feet  into  the  bed  of  the 
river,  and  braced  with  horizontal  and  diagonal 
bracings.  The  demolition  began  with  vigour  in 
1864.  In  four  months  only,  the  navigators'  brawny 
arms  had  removed  twenty  thousand  tons  of  earth, 
stone,  and  rubble  above  the  turning  of  the  arches, 
and  the  pulHng  down  those  enemies  of  Dr.  Johnson 
commenced  by  the  removal  of  the  key-stone  of  the 
second  arch  on  the  Surrey  side.  The  masonry  of 
the  arches  proved  to  be  rather  thinner  than  it 
appeared  to  be,  and  was  stuffed  with  river  ballast, 
mixed  with  bones  and  small  old-fashioned  pipes. 
The  bridge  had  taken  nearly  ten  years  to  build ;  it 
was  entirely  demolished  in  less  than  a  year,  and 
rebuilt  in  two.  In  some  cases  the  work  of  removal 
and  re-construction  went  on  harmoniously  and 
simultaneously  side  by  side.  Ingenious  steam 
cranes  travelled  upon  rails  laid  on  the  upper 
scaffold  beams,  and  lifted  the  blocks  of  stone  with 
playful  ease  and  speed.  In  December,  1864,  the 
men  worked  in  the  evenings,  by  the  aid  of  naphtha 
lamps. 

According  to  a  report  printed  in  the  Times, 
Blackfriars  Bridge  had  suffered  from  the  removal  of 
London  Bridge,  which  served  as  a  mill-dam,  to 
restrain  the  speed  and  scour  of  the  river. 

Twelve  designs  had  been  sent  in  at  the  competi- 
tion, and,  singularly  enough,  among  the  competitors 
was  a  Mr.  Mylne,  grandson  of  Johnson's  foe.  The 
design  of  Mr.  Page  was  first  selected,  as  the  hand- 


somest and  cheapest.  It  consisted  of  only  three 
arches.  Ultimately  Mr.  Joseph  Cubitt  won  the 
prize.  Cubitt's  bridge  has  five  arches,  the  centre 
one  eighty-nine  feet  span;  the  style,  Venetian 
Gothic ;  the  cost,  ;^265,ooo.  The  piers  are  grey, 
the  columns  red,  granite ;  the  bases  and  capitals  are 
of  carved  Portland  stone ;  the  bases,  balustrades, 
and  roads  of  somewhat  over-ornamented  iron. 

The  Qtiartei-ly  Rcviau,  of  April,  1872,  contains 
the  following  bitter  criticisms  of  the  new  double 
bridge  : — "  With  Blackfriars  Bridge,"  says  the  writer, 
"we  find  the  public  thoroughly  well  pleased,  though 
the  design  is  really  a  wonder  of  depravity.  Polished 
granite  columns  of  amazing  thickness,  with  carved 
capitals  of  stupendous  weight,  all  made  to  give 
shop-room  for  an  apple-woman,  or  a  convenient 
platform  for  a  suicide.  The  parapet  is  a  fiddle- 
faddle  of  pretty  cast-iron  arcading,  out  of  scale 
with  the  columns,  incongruous  with  the  capitals, 
and  quite  unsuited  for  a  work  that  should  be  simply 
grand  in  its  usefulness ;  and  at  each  corner  of  the 
bridge  is  a  huge  block  of  masonry,  apropos  of 
nothing,  a  well-known  evidence  of  desperate  im- 
becility." 

Bridge  Street  is  too  new  for  many  traditions.  Its 
chief  hero  is  that  active-minded  and  somewhat 
shallow  speculator.  Sir  Richard  Phillips,  the  book- 
seller and  projector.  An  interesting  memoir  by 
Mr.  Timbs,  his  intimate  friend,  furnishes  us  with 
many  curious  facts,  and  shows  how  the  publisher 
of  Bridge  Street  impinged  on  many  of  the  most 
illustrious  of  his  contemporaries,  and  how  in  a  way 
he  pushed  forward  the  good  work  which  afterwards 
owed  so  much  to  Mr.  Charles  Knight.  Phillips,  born 
in  London  in  1767,  was  educated  in  Soho  Square, 
and  afterwards  at  Chiswick,  where  he  remembered 
often  seeing  Hogarth's  widow  and  Dr.  Griffith,  of 
the  Monthly  Review  (Goldsmith's  tyrant),  attending 
church.  He  was  brought  up  to  be  a  brewer,  but 
in  1788  settled  as  a  schoolmaster,  first  at  Chester 
and  afterwards  at  Leicester.  At  Leicester  he  opened 
a  bookseller's  shop,  started  a  newspaper  (the 
Leicester  Herald),  and  established  a  philosophical 
society.  Obnoxious  as  a  Radical,  he  was  at  last 
entrapped  for  selling  Tom  Paine's  "  Rights  of 
Man,"  and  was  sent  to  gaol  for  eighteen  months, 
where  he  was  visited  by  Lord  Moira,  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk,  and  other  advanced  men  of  the  day.  His 
house  being  burned  down,  he  removed  to  London, 
and  projected  a  Sunday  newspaper,  but  even- 
tually Mr.  Bell  stole  the  idea  and  started  the 
Messenger.  In  1795  this  restless  and  energetic 
man  commenced  the  MontJily  Magazine.  Before 
this  he  had  already  been  a  hosier,  a  tutor,  and  a 
speculator  in  canals.  The  politico-literary  magazine 


Blackfriars.] 


PRINTING  HOUSE  SQUARE. 


iog 


was  advertised  by  circulars  sent  to  eminent  men 
of  the  opposition  in  commercial  parcels,  to  save 
the  enormous  postage  of  those  unregenerate  days. 
Dr.  Aiken,  the  literary  editor,  afterwards  started  a 
rival  magazine,  called  the  AthaKzum.  The  Gentle- 
man's Magazine  never  rose  to  a  circulation  above 
10,000,  which  soon  sank  to  3,000.  Phillips's  maga- 
zine sold  about  3,750.  With  all  these  multifarious 
pursuits,  Phillips  was  an  antiquary — purchasing 
Wolsey's  skull  for  a  shilling,  a  portion  of  his  stone 
coffin,  that  had  been  turned  into  a  horse-trough 
at  the  "White  Horse"  inn,  Leicester;  and  Rufus's 
stirrup,  from  a  descendant  of  the  charcoal-burner 
who  drove  the  body  of  the  slain  king  to  Win- 
chester. 

As  a  pushing  publisher  Phillips  soon  distinguished 
himself,  for  the  Liberals  came  to  him,  and  he  had 
quite  enough  sense  to  discover  if  a  book  was  good. 
He  produced  many  capital  volumes  of  Ana,  on  the 
French  system,  and  memoirs  of  Foote,  Monk,  Lewes, 
Wilkes,  and  LadyMary  Wortley  Montagu.  He  pub- 
lished Holcroft's  "  Travels,"  Godwin's  best  novels, 
and  Miss  Owenson's  (Lady  Morgan's)  first  work, 
"The  Novice  of  St.  Dominick."  In  1807,  when  he 
removed  to  New  Bridge  Street,  he  served  the  office 
of  sheriff ;  was  knighted  on  presenting  an  address, 
and  effected  many  reforms  in  the  prisons  and  lock- 
up houses.  In  his  useful  "  Letter  to  the  Livery  of 
London"  he  computes  the  number  of  writs  then 
annually  issued  at  24,000  ;  the  sheriffs'  expenses  at 
;^2,ooo.  He  also  did  his  best  to  repress  the 
cruelties  of  the  mob  to  poor  wretches  in  the  pillory. 
He  was  a  steady  friend  of  Alderman  Waithman, 
and  was  with  him  in  the  carriage  at  the  funeral  of 
Queen  Caroline,  in  182 1,  when  a  bullet  from  a 
soldier's  carbine  passed  through  the  carriage  window 
near  Hyde  Park.  In  i8og  Phillips  had  some 
reverses,  and  breaking  up  his  publishing-office  in 
Bridge  Street,  devoted  himself  to  the  profitable 
reform  of  school-books,  publishing  them  under  the 
names  of  Goldsmith,  Mavor,  and  Blair. 

This  active-minded  man  was  the  first  to  assert 
that  Dr.  Wilmot  wrote  "  Junius,"  and  to  start  the 
celebrated  scandal  about  George  III.  and  the 
young  Quakeress,  Hannah  Lightfoot,  daughter  of  a 
linendraper,  at  the  corner  of  Market  Street,  St. 
James's.  She  afterwards,  it  is  said,  married  a  grocer, 
named  Axford,  on  Ludgate  Hill,  was  then  carried 
off  by  the  prince,  and  bore  him  three  sons,  who 
in  time  became  generals.  The  story  is  perhaps 
traceable  to  Dr.  Wilmot,  whose  daughter  married 
the  Duke  of  Cumberland.  Phillips  found  time  to 
attack  the  Newtonian  theory  of  gravitation,  to 
advocate  a  memorial  to  Shakespeare,  to  compile  a 
book  containing  a  million   of  facts,  to  write   on 


Divine  philosophy,  and  to  suggest  (as  he  asserted)  to 
Mr.  Brougham,  in  1825,  the  first  idea  of  the  Society 
for  Useful  Knowledge.  Almost  ruined  by  the 
failures  during  the  panic  in  1826,  he  retired  to 
Brighton,  and  there  pushed  forward  his  books  and 
his  interrogative  system  of  education.  Sir  Richard's 
greatest  mistakes,  he  used  to  say,  had  been  the 
rejection  of  Byron's  early  poems,  of  "Waverley," 
of  Bloomfield's  "  Farmer's  Boy,"  and  O'Meara's 
"Napoleon  in  Exile."  He  always  stoutly  main- 
tained his  claim  to  the  suggestion  of  the  "Percy 
Anecdotes."  Phillips  died  in  1840.  Superficial 
as  he  was,  and  commercial  as  were  his  literary 
aims,  we  nevertheless  cannot  refuse  him  the  praise 
awarded  in  his  epitaph  : — "  He  advocated  civil 
liberty,  general  benevolence,  ascendancy  of  justice, 
and  the  improvement  of  the  human  race." 

The  old  monastic  ground  of  the  Black  Friars 
seems  to  have  been  beloved  by  painters,  for,  as  we 
have  seen,  Vandyke  lived  luxuriously  here,  and  was 
frequently  visited  by  Charles  I.  and  his  Court. 
Cornelius  Jansen,  the  great  portrait-painter  of 
James's  Court,  arranged  his  black  draperies  and 
ground  his  fine  carnations  in  the  same  locality ; 
and  at  the  same  time  Isaac  Oliver,  the  exquisite 
Coiirt  miniature-painter,  dwelt  in  the  same  place. 
It  was  to  him  Lady  Ayres,  to  the  rage  of  her 
jealous  husband,  came  for  a  portrait  of  Lord 
Herbert  of  Cherbury,  an  imprudence  that  very 
nearly  led  to  the  assassination  of  the  poet-lord,  who 
believed  himself  so  specially  favoured  of  Heaven. 

The  king's  printing-office  for  proclamations,  &c., 
used  to  be  in  Printing-house  Square,  but  was  re- 
moved in  1770  ;  and  we  must  not  forget  that  where 
a  Noniian  fortress  once  rose  to  oppress  the  weak, 
to  guard  the  spoils  of  robbers,  and  to  protect  the 
oppressor,  the  Times  printing-office  now  stands,  to 
diffuse  its  ceaseless  floods  of  knowledge,  to  spread 
its  resistless  segis  over  the  poor  and  the  oppressed, 
and  ever  to  use  its  vast  power  to  extend  liberty 
and  crush  injustice,  whatever  shape  the  Proteus 
assumes,  whether  it  sits  upon  a  throne  or  lurks  in 
a  swindler's  office. 

This  great  paper  was  started  in  the  year  1785, 
by  Mr.  John  Walter,  under  the  name  of  the  Daily 
Universal  Register.  It  was  first  called  the  Times, 
January  i,  1788,  when  the  following  prospectus 
appeared : — 

"  The  Universal  Register  has  been  a  name  as 
injurious  to  the  logographic  newspaper  as  Tristram 
was  to  Mr.  Shandy's  son ;  but  old  Shandy  forgot 
he  might  have  rectified  by  confirmation  the  mistake 
of  the  parson  at  baptism,  and  with  the  touch 
of  a  bishop  changed  Tristram  into  Trismegistus. 
The   Universal  Register^  from  the  day  of  its  fir|t 


OLD  AND    NEW   LONDON. 


[Blackfriars. 


appearance  to  the  day  of  its  confirmation,  had, 
Uke  Tristram,  suffered  from  innumerable  casualties, 
both  laughable  and  serious,  arising  from  its  name, 
which  in  its  introduction  was  immediately  curtailed 
of  its  fair  proportions  by  all  who  called  for  it,  the 
word  '  Universal '  being  universally  omitted,  and 


him  with  the  Cojirt  and  City  Register,  the  Old 
Annual  Register,  or  the  New  Annual  Register,  or, 
if  the  house  be  within  the  purlieus  of  Covent 
Garden  or  the  hundreds  of  Drury,  slips  into  the 
poUtician's  hand  Harris's  Register  of  Ladies. 

"  For  these  and  other  reasons  the  printer  of  the 


PRINTING   HOUSE  SQUARE  AND   THE    "  TIMES "   OFFICE    ^see  page  209). 


the  word  '  Register '  only  retained.  '  Boy,  bring 
me  the  Register.'  The  waiter  answers,  '  Sir,  we 
have  no  library ;  but  you  may  see  it  in  the  "  New 
Exchange"  coffee-house.'  *  Then  I  will  see  it  there,' 
answers  the  disappointed  politician  ;  and  he  goes 
to  the  'New  Exchange'  coffee-house,  and  calls  for 
the  Register,  upon  which  the  waiter  tells  him  he 
cannot  have  it,  as  he  is  not  a  subscriber,  or  presents 


Universal  Register  has  added  to  its  original  name 
that  of  the  Times,  which,  being  a  monosyllable, 
bids  defiance  to  the  corruptions  and  mutilations-  of 
the  language. 

"  The  Times  /  what  a  monstrous  name  !  Granted 
— for  the  Times  is  a  many-headed  monster,  that 
speaks  with  a  hundred  tongues,  and  displays  a 
thousand  characters ;   and    in  the  course  of  its 


Blackfriars.] 


THE   "TIMES"   PROSPECTUS. 


2It 


So 


212 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[ISInckfriars. 


transitions  in  life,  assumes  innumerable  shapes  and 
humours. 

"  The  critical  reader  will  observe,  we  personify 
our  new  name ;  but  as  we  give  it  no  distinction  of 
sex,  and  though  it  will  be  active  in  its  vocation, 
yet  we  apply  to  it  the  neuter  gender. 

"The  Times,  being  formed  of  and  possessing 
qualities  of  opposite  and  heterogeneous  natures, 
cannot  be  classed  either  in  the  animal  or  vegetable 
genus,  but,  like  the  polypus,  is  doubtful ;  and  in 
the  discussion,  description,  and  illustration,  will 
employ  the  pens  of  the  most  celebrated  literati. 

"  The  heads  of  the  Times,  as  has  already  been 
said,  are  many;  these  will,  however,  not  always 
appear  at  the  same  time,  but  casually,  as  public  or 
private  affairs  may  call  them  forth. 

"  The  principal  or  leading  heads  are — the  literary, 
political,  commercial,  philosophical,  critical,  thea- 
trical, fashionable,  humorous,  witty,  &:c.,  each  of 
which  is  supplied  with  a  competent  share  of 
intellect  for  the  pursuit  of  their  several  functions 
an  endowment  which  is  not  in  all  cases  to  be  found, 
even  in  the  heads  of  the  State,  the  heads  of  the 
Church,  the  heads  of  the  law,  the  heads  of  the 
navy,  the  heads  of  the  army,  and,  though  last  not 
least,  the  great  heads  of  the  universities. 

"The  political  head  of  the  Times — like  that  of 
Janus,  the  Roman  deity — is  double-faced.  With 
one  countenance  it  will  smile  continually  on  the 
friends  of  Old  England,  and  with  the  other  will 
frown  incessantly  on  her  enemies. 

"  The  alteration  we  have  made  in  our  paper  is 
not  without  precedents.  The  World  has  parted 
with  half  its  caput  mortuiim  and  a  moiety  of  its 
brains ;  \h.^  Herald\vzs,  cutoff  one  half  of  its  head  and 
has  lost  its  original  humour;  the  Post,  it  is  true, 
retains  its  whole  head  and  its  old  features  ;  and  as 
to  the  other  public  prints,  they  appear  as  having 
neither  heads  nor  tails. 

"On  the  Parliamentary  head,  every  communica- 
tion that  ability  and  industry  can  produce  may  be 
expected.  To  this  great  national  object  the  Times 
will  be  most  sedulously  attentive,  most  accurately 
correct,  and  strictly  impartial  in  its  reports." 

Both  the  Times  and  its  predecessor  were  printed 
"  logographically,"  Mr.  Walter  having  obtained  a 
patent  for  his  peculiar  system.  The  plan  consisted 
in  abridging  the  compositors'  labour  by  casting 
all  the  more  frequently  recurring  words  in  metal. 
It  was,  in  fact,  a  system  of  partial  stereotyping. 
The  English  language,  said  the  sanguine  inventor, 
contained  above  90,000  words.  This  number 
Walter  had  reduced  to  about  5,000.  The  pro- 
jector was  assailed  by  the  wits,  who  declared  that 
,his  orders  to  the  type-founders  ran, — "  Send  me  a 


hundredweight,  in  separate  pounds,  of  heat,  cold, 
wet,  dry,  murder,  fire,  dreadful  robbery,  atrocious 
outrage,  fearful  calamity,  and  alarming  explosion." 
But  nothing  could  daunt  or  stop  Walter.  One 
eccentricity  of  the  Daily  Register  was  that  on  red- 
letter  days  the  title  was  printed  in  red  ink,  and 
the  character  of  the  day  stated  under  the  date-line. 
For  instance,  on  Friday,  August  11,  1786,  there 
is  a  ;ed  heading,  and  underneath  the  words — 

'*  Princess  of  Brunswick  born. 
Holiday  at  the  Bank,  Excise  offices,  and  the  Exchequer." 

The  first  number  of  the  Titnes  is  not  so  large  as 
the  Morning  Herald  or  Alorning  Chronicle  of  the 
same  date,  but  larger  than  the  London  Chronicle, 
and  of  the  same  size  as  the  Public  Advertiser. 
(Knight  Hunt.) 

The  first  Walter  lived  in  rough  times,  and  suffered 
from  the  political  storms  that  then  prevailed.  He 
was  several  times  imprisoned  for  articles  against 
great  people,  and  it  has  been  asserted  that  he 
stood  in  the  pillory  in  1790  for  a  libel  against  the 
Duke  of  York.  This  is  not,  however,  true  ;  but  it 
is  a  fact  that  he  was  sentenced  to  such  a  punish- 
ment, and  remained  sixteen  months  in  Newgate, 
till  released  at  the  intercession  of  the  Prince  of 
Wales.  The  first  Walter  died  in  181 2.  The  second 
Mr.  Walter,  who  came  to  the  helm  in  1803,  was 
the  real  founder  of  the  future  greatness  of  the 
Times;  and  he,  too,  had  his  rubs.  In  1804  he 
offended  the  Government  by  denouncing  the  foolish 
Catamaran  expedition.  For  this  the  Government 
meanly  deprived  his  family  of  the  printing  for  the 
Customs,  and  also  withdrew  their  advertisements. 
During  the  war  of  1805  the  Government  stopped 
all  the  foreign  papers  sent  to  the  Times.  Walter, 
stopped  by  no  obstacle,  at  once  contrived  other 
means  to  secure  early  news,  and  had  the  triumph  of 
announcing  the  capitulation  of  Flushing  forty-eight 
hours  before  the  intelligence  had  arrived  through 
any  other  channel. 

There  were  no  reviews  of  books  in  the  Times 
till  long  after  it  was  started,  but  it  paid  great  atten- 
tion to  the  drama  from  its  commencement.  There 
were  no  leading  articles  for  several  years,  yet  in 
the  very  first  year  the  Times  displays  threefold  as 
many  advertisements  as  its  contemporaries.  For 
many  years  Mr.  Walter,  with  his  usual  sagacity 
and  energy,  endeavoured  to  mature  some  plan  for 
printing  the  Times  hy  sicdjm.  As  early  as  1804  a 
compositor  named  Martyn  had  invented  a  machine 
for  the  purpose  of  superseding  the  hand-press, 
which  took  hours  struggling  over  the  three  or  four 
thousand  copies  of  the  Times.  The  pressmen 
threatened  destruction  to  the  new  machine,  and  it 


Blackfriars.] 


THE   "TIMES." 


213 


had  to  be  smuggled  piecemeal  into  the  premises, 
while  Martyn  sheltered  himself  under  various  dis- 
guises to  escape  the  vengeance  of  the  workmen. 
On  the  eve  of  success,  however,  Walter's  father  lost 
courage,  stopped  the  supplies,  and  the  project  was 
for  the  time  abandoned.  In  1814  Walter,  however, 
returned  to  the  charge.  Koenig  and  Barnes  put 
their  machinery  in  premises  adjoining  the  Times 
office,  to  avoid  the  violence  of  the  pressmen.  •  At 
one  time  the  two  inventors  are  said  to  have  aban- 
doned their  machinery  in  despair,  but  a  clerical 
friend  of  Walter  examined  the  difficulty  and  removed 
it.  The  night  came  at  last  when  the  great  experi- 
ment was  to  be  made.  The  unconscious  pressmen 
were  kept  waiting  in  the  next  office  for  news  from 
the  Continent.  At  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  Mr. 
Walter  entered  the  press-room,  with  a  wet  paper  in 
his  hand,  and  astonished  the  men  by  telling  them 
that  the  Times  had  just  been  printed  by  steam.  If 
they  attempted  violence,  he  said,  there  was  a  force 
ready  to  suppress  it ;  but  if  they  were  peaceable  their 
wages  should  be  continued  until  employment  was 
found  for  them.  He  could  now  print  1,100  sheets 
an  hour.  By-and-by  Koenig's  machine  proved  too 
complicated,  and  Messrs.  Applegarth  and  Cowper 
invented  a  cylindrical  one,  that  printed  8,000  an 
hour.  Then  came  Hoe's  process,  which  is  now 
said  to  print  at  the  rate  of  from  18,000  to  22,000 
copies  an  hour  (Grant).  The  various  improvements 
in  steam-printing  have  altogether  cost  the  Ti7nes, 
according  to  general  report,  not  less  than  ;!^8o,ooo. 
About  18 1 3  Dr.  Stoddart,  the  brother-in-law 
of  Hazlitt  (afterwards  Sir  John  Stoddart,  a  judge 
in  Malta),  edited  the  Ttjnes  with  ability,  till  his 
almost  insane  hatred  of  Bonaparte,  "theCorsican 
fiend,"  as  he  called  him,  led  to  his  secession  in 
1 815  or  1 816.  Stoddart  was  the  "Doctor  Slop" 
whom  Tom  Moore  derided  in  his  gay  little  Whig 
lampoons.  The  next  editor  was  Thomas  Barnes, 
a  better  scholar  and  a  far  abler  man.  He  had 
been  a  contemporary  of  Lamb  at  Christ's  Hospital, 
and  a  rival  of  Blomfield,  afterwards  Bishop  of 
London.  While  a  student  in  the  Temple  he 
wrote  the  Times  a  series  of  political  letters  in  the 
manner  of  "  Junius,"  and  was  at  once  placed  as  a 
reporter  in  the  gallery  of  the  House.  Under  his 
editorship  Walter  secured  some  of  his  ablest  contri- 
butors, including  that  Captain  Stirling,  "  The  Thun- 
derer," whom  Carlyle  has  sketched  so  happily. 
Stirling  was  an  Irishman,  who  had  fought  with  the 
Royal  troops  at  Vinegar  Hill,  then  joined  the  line, 
and  afterwards  turned  gentleman  farmer  in  the  Isle 
of  Bute.  He  began  writing  for  the  Times  about 
181 5,  and,  it  is  said,  eventually  received  ;;^2,ooo  a 
year  as  a  writer  of  dashing  and  effective  leaders. 


Lord  Brougham  also,  it  is  said,  wrote  occasional 
articles,  Tom  Moore  was  even  offered  ;^ioo  a 
month  if  he  would  contribute,  and  Southey  declined 
an  offer  of  ;^2,ooo  a  year  for  editing  the  Ti/}7ies. 
Macaulay  in  his  day  wrote  many  brilliant  squibs  in 

the  Times ;  amongst  them  one  containing  the  line : 

» 

"  Ye  diners  out,  from  whom  we  guard  our  spoons," 

and  another  on  the  subject  of  Wat  Banks's  candi- 
dateship  for  Cambridge.  Barnes  died  in  1841. 
Horace  Twiss,  the  biographer  of  Lord  Eldon  and 
nephew  of  Mrs.  Siddons,  also  helped  the  Times 
forward  by  his  admirable  Parliamentary  summaries,  ' 
the  first  the  Times  had  attempted.  This  able  man 
died  suddenly  in  1848,  while  speaking  at  a  meeting 
of  the  Rock  Assurance  Society  at  Radley's  Hotel, 
Bridge  Street. 

One  of  the  longest  wars  the  Times  ever  carried 
on  was  that  against  Alderman  Harmer,  It  was 
Harmer's  turn,  in  due  order  of  rotation,  to  become 
Lord  Mayor.  A  strong  feeling  had  arisen  against 
Harmer  because,  as  the  avowed  proprietor  of 
the  Weekly  Dispatch,  he  inserted  certain  letters 
of  the  late  Mr.  Williams  ("PubHcola"),  which 
were  said  to  have  had  the  effect  of  preventing 
Mr.  Walter's  return  for  South wark  (see  page  59). 
The  Times  upon  this  wrote  twelve  powerful  leaders 
against  Harmer,  which  at  once  decided  the  ques- 
tion. This  was  a  great  assertion  of  power,  and 
raised  the  Times  in  the  estimation  of  all  England. 
For  these  twelve  articles,  originally  intended  for 
letters,  the  writer  (says  Mr,  Grant)  received  ;!^2oo. 
But  in  1841  the  extraordinary  social  influence  of 
this  giant  paper  was  even  still  more  shown.  Mr. 
O'Reilly,  their  Paris  correspondent,  obtained  a  clue 
to  a  vast  scheme  of  fraud  concocting  in  Paris  by  a 
gang  of  fourteen  accomplished  swindlers,  who  had 
already  netted  ;£io,'joo  of  the  million  for  which 
they  had  planned.  At  the  risk  of  assassination, 
O'Reilly  exposed  the  scheme  in  the  Times,  dating 
the  expose  Brussels,  in  order  to  throw  the  swindlers 
on  the  ^vrong  scent. 

At  a  public  meeting  of  merchants,  bankers,  and 
others  held  in  the  Egyptian  Hall,  Mansion  House, 
October  i,  1841,  the  Lord  Mayor  (Thomas  Johnson) 
in  the  chair,  it  was  unanimously  resolved  to  thank 
the  proprietors  of  the  Times  for  the  services  they  had 
rendered  in  having  exposed  the  most  remarkable 
and  extensively  fraudulent  conspiracy  (the  famous 
"  Bogle  "  swindle)  ever  brought  to  light  in  the  mer- 
cantile world,  and  to  record  in  some  substantial 
manner  the  sense  of  obligation  conferred  by  the 
proprietors  of  the  Times  on  the  commercial  world.       \ 

The  proprietors  of  the  Tijnes  declining  to  receive 
the  ^1^2,625  subscribed  by  the  London  merchants 


214 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Blackfriars. 


to  recompense  them  for  doing  their  duty,  it  was 
resolved,  in  1842,  to  set  apart  the  funds  for  the 
endowment  of  two  scholarships,  one  at  Christ's 
Hospital,  and  one  at  the  City  of  London  School. 
In  both  schools  a  commemorative  tablet  was  put 
up,  as  well  as  one  at  the  Royal  Exchange  and  the 
Times  printing-office. 

At  various  periods  the  Times  has  had  to  endure 
violent  attacks  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and 
many  strenuous  efforts  to  restrain  its  vast  powers. 
In  1819  John  Payne  CoUier,  one  of  their  Parlia- 
mentary reporters,  and  better  kno^vn  as  one  of  the 
greatest  of  Shakesperian  critics,  was  committed 
into  the  custody  of  the  Serjeant-at-Arms  for  a 
report  in  which  he  had  attacked  Canning.  The 
Tijnes,  however,  had  some  powerful  friends  in  the 
House ;  and  in  1821  we  find  Mr.  Hume  complaining 
that  the  Government  advertisements  were  syste- 
matically withheld  from  the  Times.  In  1831 
Sir  R.  H.  Inglis  complained  that  the  Times  had 
been  guilty  of  a  breach  of  privilege,  in  asserting 
that  there  were  borough  nominees  and  lackeys  in 
the  House.  Sir  Charles  Wetherell,  that  titled,  in- 
comparable old  Tory,  joined  in  the  attack,  which 
Burdett  chivalrously  cantered  forward  to  repel.  Sir 
Henry  Hardinge  wanted  the  paper  prosecuted,  but 
Lord  John  Russell,  Orator  Hunt,  and  O'Connell, 
however,  moved  the  previous  question,  and  the 
great  debate  on  the  Reform  Bill  then  proceeded. 
The  same  year  the  House  of  Lords  flew  at  the 
great  paper.  The  Earl  of  Limerick  had  been  called 
"an  absentee,  and  a  thing  with  human  pretensions." 
The  Marquis  of  Londonderry  joined  in  the  attack. 
The  next  day  Mr.  Lawson,  printer  of  the  Times , 
was  examined  and  worried  by  the  House ;  and 
Lord  Wynford  moved  that  Mr.  Lawson,  as  printer 
of  a  scandalous  libel,  should  be  fined  jQ'i.oo,  and 
committed  to  Newgate  till  the  fine  be  paid.  The 
next  day  Mr.  Lawson  handed  in  an  apology,  but 
Lord  Brougham  generously  rose  and  denied  the 
power  of  the  House  to  imprison  and  fine  without  a 
trial  by  jury.  The  Tory  lords  spoke  angrily ;  the 
Earl  of  Limerick  called  the  press  a  tyrant  that 
ruled  all  things,  and  crushed  everything  under  its 
feet ;  and  the  Marquis  of  Londonderry  complained 
of  the  coarse  and  virulent  libels  against  Queen 
Adelaide,  for  her  supposed  opposition  to  Reform. 

In  1833  O'Connell  attributed  dishonest  motives 
to  the  London  reporter  who  had  suppressed  his 
speeches,  and  the  reporters  in  the  Titnes  expressed 
their  resolution  not  to  report  any  more  of  his 
speeches  unless  he  retracted.  O'Connell  then 
moved  in  the  House  that  the  printer  of  the  Times  be 
summoned  to  the  bar  for  printing  their  resolution, 
but  his  motion  was  rejected.     In  1838  Mr.  Lawson 


was  fined  ;^2oo  for  accusing  Sir  John  Conroy, 
treasurer  of  the  household  of  the  Duchess  of  Kent, 
of  peculation.  In  1840  an  angry  member  brought 
a  breach  of  privilege  motion  against  the  Times,  and 
advised  every  one  who  was  attacked  in  that  paper 
to  horsewRip  the  editor. 

In  January,  1S29,  the  Times  came  out  with  a 
double  sheet,  consisting  of  eight  pages,  or  forty- 
eight  columns.  In  1830  it  paid  ;^7o,ooo  adver- 
tisement duty.  In  1800  its  sale  had  been  below 
that  of  the  Morning  ChroJiicle,  Post,  Herald,  and 
Advertiser. 

The  Times,  according  to  Mr.  Grant,  in  one  day 
of  1870,  received  no  less  than  ^1,500  for  adver- 
tisements. On  June  22,  1862,  it  produced  a 
paper  containing  no  less  than  twenty-four  pages,  or 
144  columns.  In  1854  the  Times  had  a  circulation 
of  51,000  copies;  in  i860,  60,000.  For  special 
numbers  its  sale  is  enormous.  The  biography  of 
Prince  Albert  sold  90,000  copies ;  the  marriage  of 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  110,000  copies.  The  income 
of  the  Times  from  advertisements  alone  has  been 
calculated  at  ;^26o,ooo.  A  writer  in  a  Philadelphia 
paper  of  1867  estimates  the  paper  consumed  weekly 
by  the  Tijnes  at  seventy  tons ;  the  ink  at  two  tons. 
There  are  employed  in  the  office  ten  stereotypers, 
sixteen  firemen  and  engineers,  ninety  machine-men, 
six  men  who  prepare  the  paper  for  printing,  and 
seven  to  transfer  the  papers  to  the  news-agents. 
The  new  Walter  press  prints  22,000  to  24,000  im- 
pressions an  hour,  or  1 2,000  perfect  sheets  printed 
on  botl\  sides.  It  prints  from  a  roll  of  paper  three- 
quarters  of  a  mile  long,  and  cuts  the  sheets  and  piles 
them  without  help.  It  is  a  self-feeder,  and  requires 
only  a  man  and  two  boys  to  guide  its  operations. 
A  copy  of  the  Times  has  been  known  to  contain 
4,000  advertisements ;  and  for  every  daily  copy 
it  is  computed  that  the  compositors  mass  together 
not  less  than  2,500,000  separate  types. 

The  number  of  persons  engaged  in  daily  working 
for  the  Times  is  put  at  nearly  350. 

In  the  annals  of  this  paper  we  must  not  forget 
the  energy  that,  in  1834,  established  a  system  of 
home  expresses,  that  enabled  them  to  give  the 
earliest  intelligence  before  any  other  paper ;  and  at 
an  expense  of  ^^200  brought  a  report  of  Lord 
Durham's  speech  at  Glasgow  to  London  at  the 
then  unprecedented  rate  of  fifteen  miles  an  hour ; 
nor  should  we  forget  their  noble  disinterestedness 
during  the  railway  mania  of  1845,  when,  although 
they  were  receiving  more  than  ;!^3,ooo  a  week  for 
railway  advertisements,  they  warned  the  country 
unceasingly  of  the  misery  and  ruin  that  must  in- 
evitably follow.  The  Times  proprietors  are  known 
to   pay  the  highest   sums  for  articles,  and  to  be 


Blackfriars.] 


APOTHECARIES'   HALL. 


215 


uniformly  generous  in  pensioning  men  who  have 
spent  their  lives  in  its  service. 

The  late  Mr.  Walter,  even  when  M.P.  for  Berk- 
shire and  Nottingham,  never  forgot  Printing-house 
Square  when  the  debate,  however  late,  had  closed. 
One  afternoon,  says  Mr.  Grant,  he  came  to  the  office 
and  found  the  compositors  gone  to  dinner.  Just  at 
that  moment  a  parcel,  marked  "  immediate  and  im- 
portant," arrived.  It  was  news  of  vast  importance. 
He  at  once  slipped  off  his  coat,  and  set  up  the 
news  with  his  own  hands ;  a  pressman  was  at  his 
post,  and  by  the  time  the  men  returned  a  second 
edition  was  actually  printed  and  published.  But 
his  foresight  and  energy  was  most  conspicuously 
shown  in  1845,  when  the  jealousy  of  the  French 
Government  had  thrown  obstacles  in  the  way  of  the 
7»;/^j' couriers,  who  brought  their  Indian  despatches 
from  Marseilles.  What  were  seas  and  deserts  to 
Walter  ?  He  at  once  took  counsel  with  Lieutenant 
Waghorn,  who  had  opened  up  the  overland  route 
to  India,  and  proposed  to  try  a  new  route  by 
Trieste.  The  result  was  that  Waghorn  reached 
London  two  days  before  the  regular  mail — the 
usual  mail  aided  by  the  French  Government.  The 
Morning  Herald  was  at  first  forty-eight  hours  before 
the  Times,  but  after  that  the  Times  got  a  fortnight 
ahead;  and  although  the  Trieste  route  was  aban- 
doned, the  Times,  eventually,  was  left  alone  as  a 
troublesome  and  invincible  adversary. 

Apothecaries'  Hall,  the  grave  stone  and  brick 
building,  in  Water  Lane,  Blackfriars,  was  erected  in 
1670  (Charles  II.),  as  the  dispensary  and  hall  of 
the  Company  of  Apothecaries,  incorporated  by  a 
charter  of  James  I.,  at  the  suit  of  Gideon  Delaune, 
the  king's  own  apothecary.  Drugs  in  the  Middle 
Ages  were  sold  by  grocers  and  pepperers,  or  by 
the  doctors  themselves,  who,  early  in  James's  reign, 
formed  one  company  with  the  apothecaries  ;  but 
the  ill-assorted  union  lasted  only  eleven  years,  for 
the  apothecaries  were  then  fast  becoming  doctors 
themselves. 

Garth,  in  his  "  Dispensary,"  describes,  in  the 
Hogarthian  manner,  the  topographical  position  of 
Apothecaries'  Hall : — 

* '  Nigh  where  Fleet  Ditch  descends  in  sable  streams, 
To  wash  the  sooty  Naiads  in  the  Thames, 
There  stands  a  structure  on  a  rising  hill, 
Where  tyros  take  their  freedom  out  to  kill." 

Gradually  the  apothecaries,  refusing  to  be  merely 
"the  doctors'  tools,"  began  to  encroach  more  and 
more  on  the  doctors'  province,  and  to  prescribe  for 
and  even  cure  the  poor.  In  1687  (James  II.)  open 
war  broke  out.  First  Dryden,  then  Pope,  fought  on 
the  side  of  the  doctors  against  the  humbler  men, 
whom  they  were  taught  to  consider  as  mere  greedy 


mechanics  and  empirics.     Dryden  first  let  fly  his 
mighty  shaft  : — 

"  The  apothecary  tribe  is  wholly  onnd  ; 
From  files  a  random  recipe  they  take, 
And  many  deaths  from  one  prescription  make. 
Garth,  generous  as  his  muse,  prescribes  and  givee  ; 
The  shopman  sells,  and  by  destruction  lives." 

Pope  followed  with  a  smaller  but  keener  arrow : — 

"  So  modern  'pothecaries,  taught  the  art 
By  doctors'  bills  to  play  the  doctor's  part, 
Bold  in  the  practice  of  mistaken  rules, 
Prescribe,  apply,  and  call  their  masters  fools." 

The  origin  of  the  memorable  affray  between  the 
College  of  Physicians  and  the  Company  of  Apothe- 
caries is  admirably  told  by  Mr.  Jeafifreson,  in  his 
"  Book  of  Doctors."  The  younger  physicians, 
impatient  at  beholding  the  increasing  prosperity 
and  influence  of  the  apothecaries,  and  the  older 
ones  indignant  at  seeing  a  class  of  men  they  had 
despised  creeping  into  their  quarters,  and  craftily 
laying  hold  of  a  portion  of  their  monopoly,  con- 
cocted a  scheme  to  reinstate  themselves  in  public 
favour.  Without  a  doubt,  many  of  the  physicians 
who  countenanced  this  scheme  gave  it  their  support 
from  purely  charitable  motives ;  but  it  cannot  be 
questioned  that,  as  a  body,  the  dispensarians  were 
only  actuated  in  their  humanitarian  exertions  by  a 
desire  to  lower  the  apothecaries  and  raise  them- 
selves in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  In  1687  the 
physicians,  at  a  college  meeting,  voted  "that  all 
members  of  the  college,  whether  fellows,  candi- 
dates, or  licentiates,  should  give  their  advice  gratis 
to  all  their  sick  neighbouring  poor,  when  desired, 
within  the  city  of  London,  or  seven  miles  round." 
The  poor  folk  carried  their  prescriptions  to  the 
apothecaries,  to  learn  that  the  trade  charge  for 
dispensing  them  was  beyond  their  means.  The 
physicians  asserted  that  the  demands  of  the  drug- 
vendors  were  extortionate,  and  were  not  reduced 
to  meet  the  finances  of  the  applicants,  to  the  end 
that  the  undertakings  of  benevolence  might  prove 
abortive.  This .  was,  of  course,  absurd.  The 
apothecaries  knew  their  own  interests  better  than 
to  oppose  a  system  which  at  least  rendered  drug- 
consuming  fashionable  with  the  lower  orders. 
Perhaps  they  regarded  the  poor  as  their  peculiar 
property  as  a  field  of  practice,  and  felt  insulted  at 
having  the  same  humble  people  for  whom  they 
had  pompously  prescribed,  and  put  up  boluses  at 
twopence  apiece,  now  entering  their  shops  with 
papers  dictating  what  the  twopenny  Ipolus  was  to 
be  composed  of  But  the  charge  preferred  against 
them  was  groundless.  Indeed,  a  numerous  body 
of  the  apothecaries  expressly  offered  to  sell  medi- 
cines "  to  the  poor  within  their  respective  parishes 


2l6 


OLD   AND    NEW   LONDON. 


[Blackfriars. 


at  such  rates  as  the  committee  of  physicians  should 
think  reasonable." 

But  this  would  not  suit  the  game  of  the  phy- 
sicians. "  A  proposal  was  started  by  a  committee 
of  the  college  that  the  college  should  furnish  the 
medicines   of  the   poor,   and  perfect  alone  that 


paring  and  delivering  medicines  at  their  intrinsic 
value." 

Such  was  the  version  of  the  affair  given  by 
the  college  apologists.  The  plan  was  acted  upon, 
and  a  dispensary  was  eventually  established  (some 
nine  years  after  the  vote  of  1687)  at  the  College 


THE  COLLEGE  OF  PHYSICIANS,    WARWICK   LANE  {see  page  2l6). 


charity  which  the  apothecaries  refused  to  concur 
in;  and,  after  divers  methods  ineffectually  tried, 
and  much  time  wasted  in  endeavouring  to  bring 
the  apothecaries  to  terms  of  reason  in  relation  to 
the  poor,  an  instrument  was  subscribed  by  divers 
charitably-disposed  members  of  the  college,  now 
in  numbers  about  fifty,  wherein  they  obliged  them- 
selves to  pay  ten  pounds  apiece  towards  the  pre- 


of  Physicians,  Warwick  Lane,  where  medicines 
were  vended  to  the  poor  at  cost  price.  This 
measure  of  the  college  was  impolitic  and  unjusti- 
fiable. It  was  unjust  to  that  important  division  of 
the  trade  who  were  ready  to  vend  the  medicines  at 
rates  to  be  paid  by  the  college  authorities,  for  it 
took  altogether  out  of  their  hands  the  small  amount 
of  profit  which  they,  as  dealers,  could  have  realised 


Blackfriars.  ] 


A   MEDICAL  CIVIL  WAR. 


217 


on  those  terms.  It  was  also  an  eminently  unwise 
course.  The  College  sank  to  the  level  of  the 
Apothecaries'  Hall,  becoming  an  emporium  for  the 
sale  of  medicines.  It  was  all  very  well  to  say  that 
no  profit  was  made  on  such  sale,  the  censorious 
w&rld  would  not  believe  it.     The  apothecaries  and 


fees.  They  therefore  joined  in  the  cry  against 
the  dispensary.  The  profession  was  split  up 
into  two  parties — Dispensarians  and  Anti-Dispen- 
sarians.  The  apothecaries  combined,  and  agreed 
not  to  recommend  the  Dispensarians.  The  Anti- 
Dispensarians  repaid  this  ill  service  by  refusing  to 


OUTER   COURT  OF   LA   BELLE   SAUVAGE   IN    1 828,    FROM   AN    ORIGINAL   DRAWING   IN    MR.    GARDNER'S   COLLECTION 

{see  page  22 1 ). 


their  friends  denied  that  such  was  the  fact,  and 
vowed  that  the  benevolent  dispensarians  were  bent 
only  on  underselling  and  ruining  them. 

Again,  the  movement  introduced  dissensions 
within  the  walls  of  the  college.  Many  of  the  first 
physicians,  with  the  conservatism  of  success,  did 
not  care  to  offend  the  apothecaries,  who  were 
continually   calling  them    in    and    paying    them 


meet  Dispensarians  in  consultation.  Sir  Thomas 
Millington,  the  President  of  the  College,  Hans 
Sloane,  John  Woodward,  Sir  Edmund  King,  and 
Sir  Samuel  Garth,  were  amongst  the  latter.  Of 
these  the  last  named  was  the  man  who  rendered 
the  most  efficient  service  to  his  party.  For  a  time 
Garth's  great  poem,  "The  Dispensary,"  covered 
the  apothecaries  and  Anti-Dispensarians  with  ridi- 


2l8 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Blackfriars. 


cule.    It  rapidly  passed  through  numerous  editions. 
To  say  that  of  all  the  books,  pamphlets,  and  broad- 
sheets  thrown   out  by   the  combatants   on  both 
sides,  it  is  by  far  the  one  of  the  greatest  merit, 
would  be  scant  justice,  when  it  might  almost  be 
said  that  it  is  the  only  one  of  them  that  can  now 
be  read  by  a  gentleman  ^vithout  a  sense  of  annoy- 
ance and  disgust.     There  is  no  point  of  view  from 
which  the  medical  profession  appears  in  a  more 
humiliating  and  contemptible  light  than  that  which 
the  literature  of  this  memorable  squabble  presents 
to  the  student.     Charges  of  ignorance,  dishonesty, 
and  extortion  were  preferred  on  both  sides.     And 
the  Dispensarian   physicians  did   not   hesitate  to 
taunt  their  brethren  of  the   opposite   camp  with 
playing  corruptly  into  the  hands  of  the  apothecaries 
— prescribing  enormous  and  unnecessary  quantities 
of  medicine,  so  that  the  drug-vendors  might  make 
heavy  bills,  and,  as  a  consequence,  recommend  in 
all   directions   such   complacent    superiors    to   be 
called  in.     Garth's,  unfair  and  violent  though  it  is, 
nowhere  offends  against  decency.    As  a  work  of  art 
it  cannot  be  ranked  high,  and  is  now  deservedly 
forgotten,  although  it  has  many  good   lines  and 
some   felicitous   satire.      Garth   lived   to    see  the 
apothecaries  gradually  emancipate  themselves  from 
the   ignominious   regulations   to  which  the^  con- 
sented when  their  vocation  was  first  separated  from 
the  grocery  trade.     Four  years  after  his  death  they 
obtained   legal   acknowledgment  of  their  right  to 
dispense  and  sell  medicines  without  the  prescrip- 
tion of  a  physician;  and  six  years  later  the  law 
again  decided  in  their  favour  with  regard  to  the 
physicians'  right   of  examining  and   condemning 
their  drugs.     In  1721,  Mr.  Rose,  an  apothecary, 
on  being  prosecuted  by  the  college  for  prescribing 
as  well   as   compounding   medicines,  carried   the 
matter  into  the  House  of  Lords,  and  obtained  a 
favourable  decision;  and  from  1727,  in  which  year 
Mr.  Goodwin,  an  apothecary,  obtained  in  a  court 
of  law  a  considerable  sum  for  an  illegal  seizure  of 
his  wares  (by  Drs.  Arbuthnot,  Bale,  and  Levit),  the 
physicians   may  be  said  to  have  discontinued  to 
exercise  their  privileges  of  inspection. 

In  his  elaborate  poem  Garth  cruelly  caricatures 
the  apothecaries  of  his  day : — 

"  Long  has  he  been  of  that  amphibious  fry, 
Bold  to  prescribe,  and  busy  to  apply  ; 
His  shop  the  gazing  vulgar's  eyes  employs, 
With  foreign  trinkets  and  domestic  toys. 
Here  mummies  lay,  most  reverently  stale, 
And  there  the  tortoise  hung  her  coat  of  mail ; 
Not  far  from  some  huge  shark's  devouring  head 
The  flying-fish  their  finny  pinions  spread. 
Aloft  in  rows  large  poppy-heads  were  strung, 
And  near,  a  seal/  alligator  hung. 


In  this  place  drugs  in  musty  heaps  decay'd, 
In  that  dried  bladders  and  false  teeth  were  laid. 

"  An  inner  room  receives  the  num'rous  shoals 
Of  such  as  pay  to  be  reputed  fools ; 
Globes  stand  by  globes,  volumes  on  volumes  lie, 
And  planetary  schemes  amuse  the  eye. 
The  sage  in  velvet  chair  here  lolls  at  ease. 
To  promise  future  health  for  present  fees  ; 
Then,  as  from  tripod,  solemn  shams  reveals. 
And  what  the  stars  know  nothing  of  foretells. 
Our  manufactures  now  they  merely  sell, 
And  their  true  value  treacherously  tell ; 
Nay,  they  discover,  too,  their  spite  is  such, 
That  health,  than  crowns  more  valued,  cost  not  much ; 
Whilst  we  must  steer  our  conduct  by  these  rules, 
To  cheat  as  tradesmen,  or  to  starve  as  fools." 

Before  finally  leaving  Blackfriars,  let  us  gather 
up  a  few  reminiscences  of  the  King's  and  Queen's 
printers  who  here  first  worked  their  inky  presses. 

Queen  Anne,  by  patent  in  1713,  constituted 
Benjamin  Tooke,  of  Fleet  Street,  and  John  Barber 
(afterwards  Alderman  Barber),  Queen's  printers  for 
thirty  years.  This  Barber,  a  high  Tory  and  sus- 
pected Jacobite,  was  Swift's  printer  and  warm  friend. 
A  remarkable  story  is  told  of  Barber's  dexterity  in 
his  profession.  Being  threatened  with  a  prosecution 
by  the  House  of  Lords,  for  an  offensive  paragraph 
in  a  pamphlet  which  he  had  printed,  and  being 
warned  of  his  danger  by  Lord  Bolingbroke,  he 
called  in  all  the  copies  from  the  publishers,  can- 
celled the  leaf  which  contained  the  obnoxious 
passage,  and  returned  them  to  the  booksellers  with 
a  new  paragraph  supplied  by  Lord  Bolingbroke;  so 
that  when  the  pamphlet  was  produced  before  the 
House,  and  the  passage  referred  to,  it  was  found 
unexceptionable.  He  added  greatly  to  his  wealth 
by  the  South  Sea  Scheme,  which  he  had  prudence 
enough  to  secure  in  time,  and  purchased  an  estate 
at  East  Sheen  with  part  of  his  gain.  In  principles 
he  was  a  Jacobite;  and  in  his  travels  to  Italy, 
whither  he  went  for  the  recovery  of  his  health,  he 
was  introduced  to  the  Pretender,  which  exposed 
him  to  some  danger  on  his  return  to  England; 
for,  immediately  on  his  arrival,  he  was  taken  into 
custody  by  a  King's  messenger,  but  was  released 
without  punishment.  After  his  success  in  the  South 
Sea  Scheme,  he  was  elected  Alderman  of  Castle 
BaynardWard,  1722  ;  sheriff,  1730;  and,  in  1732-3, 
Lord  Mayor  of  London. 

John  Baskett  subsequently  purchased  both  shares 
of  the  patent,  but  his  printing-offices  in  Blackfriars 
(now  Printing  House  Square)  were  soon  afterwards 
destroyed  by  fire.  In  1739  George  II.  granted  a 
fresh  patent  to  Baskett  for  sixty  years,  with  the 
privilege  of  supplying  Parliament  with  stationery. 
Half  this  lease  Baskett  sold  to  Charles  Eyre,  who 
eventually  appointed  William  Stralian  his  printer. 


Blackfriars.] 


A  NOTEWORTHY  MAN  AND  A  NOTEWORTHY  PLACE. 


219 


Strahan  soon  after  brought  in  Mr.  Eyre,  and  in 
1770  erected  extensive  premises  in  Printer  Street, 
New  Street  Square,  between  Gough  Square  and 
Fetter  Lane,  near  the  present  offices  of  Mr.  Spottis- 
woode,  one  of  whose  family  married  Mr.  Strahan's 
daughter.  Strahan  died  a  year  after  his  old  friend, 
Dr.  Johnson,  at  his  house  in  New  Street,  leaving 
;^i,ooo  to  the  Stationers'  Company,  which  his 
son  Andrew  augmented  with  ^2,000  more.  This 
son  died  in  1831,  aged  eighty-three. 

William  Strahan,  the  son  of  a  Scotch  Custom- 
house officer,  had  come  up  to  London  a  poor 
printers'  boy,  and  worked  his  way  to  wealth  and 
social  distinction.  He  was  associated  with  Cadell 
in  the  purchase  of  copyrights,  on  the  death  of 
Cadell's  partner  and  former  master,  Andrew  Millar, 
who  died  circa  1768.  The  names  of  Strahan  and 
Cadell  appeared  on  the  title-pages  of  the  great  works 
of  Gibbon,  Robertson,  Adam  Smith,  and  Black- 
stone.  In  1776  Hume  wrote  to  Strahan,  "There 
will  be  no  books  of  reputation  now  to  be  printed 
in  London,  but  through  your  hands  and  Mr. 
Cadell's."  Gibbon's  history  was  a  vast  success, 
rhe  first  edition  of  1,000  went  off  in  a  few  days. 
This  produced  ^^490,  of  which  Gibbon  received 
;^32  6  13  s.  4d.  The  great  history  was  finished  in 
1788,  by  the  publication  of  the  fourth  quarto 
volume.  It  appeared  on  the  author's  fifty-first 
birthday,  and  the  double  festival  was  celebrated 
by  a  dinner  at  Mr.  Cadell's,  when  complimentary 
verses  from  that  wretched  poet,  Hayley,  made  the 
great  man  with  the  button-hole  mouth  blush  or 
feign  to  blush.  That  was  a  proud  day  for  Gibbon, 
and  a  proud  day  for  Messrs.  Cadell  and  Strahan. 

The  first  Strahan,  Johnson's  friend,  was  M.P. 
for  Malmesbury  and  Wootton  Bassett  (1775-84), 
and  his  taking  to  a  carriage  was  the  subject  of  a 
recorded  conversation  between  Boswell  and  John- 
son, who  gloried  in  his  friend's  success.  It  wa^ 
Strahan  who,  with  Johnston  and  Dodsley,  pur- 
chased, in  1759,  for  ;!^ioo,  the  first  edition  of 
Johnson's  "  Rasselas,  Prince  of  Abyssinia,"  that 
sententious  story,  which  Johnson  wrote  in  a  week, 
to  defray  the  expenses  of  his  mother's  funeral. 

Boswell  has  recorded  several  conversations  be- 
tween Dr.  Johnson  and  Strahan.  Strahan,  at  the 
doctor's  return  from  the  Hebrides,  asked  him,  with 
a  firm  tone  of  voice,  what  he  thought  of  his  country. 
"That  it  is  a  very  vile  country,  to  be  sure,  sir," 
returned  for  answer  Dr.  Johnson.  **  Well,  sir,"  re- 
plied the  other,  somewhat  mortified,  "God  made 
it."  "Certainly  he  did,"  answered  Dr.  Johnson 
again ;  "  but  we  must  always  remember  that  be 
made  it  for  Scotchmen,  and  —  comparisons  are 
odious,  Mr.  Strahan — but  God  made  hell." 


Boswell  has  also  a  pretty  anecdote  relating  to 
one  of  the  doctor's  visits  to  Strahan's  printing- 
office,  which  shows  the  "  Great  Bear "  in  a  very 
amiable  light,  and  the  scene  altogether  is  not  un- 
worthy of  the  artist's  pencil. 

"  Mr.  Strahan,"  says  Boswell,  "  had  taken  a  poor 
boy  from  the  country  as  an  apprentice,  upon  John- 
son's recommendation.  Johnson  having  inquired 
after  him,  said,  'Mr.  Strahan,  let  me  have  five  guineas 
on  account,  and  I'll  give  this  boy  one.  Nay,  if  a 
man  recommends  a  boy,  and  does  nothing  for  hirn, 
it  is  a  sad  work.  Call  him  down.'  I  followed  him 
into  the  court-yard,  behind  Mr.  Strahan's  house, 
and  there  I  had  a  proof  of  what  I  heard  him 
profess  — that  he  talked  alike  to  all.  '  Some  people 
will  tell  you  that  they  let  themselves  down  to  the 
capacity  of  their  hearers.  I  never  do  that.  I  speak 
uniformly  in  as  intelligible  a  manner  as  I  can.' 
'  Well,  my  boy,  how  do  you  go  on  ?'  '  Pretty  well, 
sir ;  but  they  are  afraid  I'm  not  strong  enough  for 
some  parts  of  the  business.'  Johnson:  'Why,  I 
shall  be  sorry  for  it ;  for  when  you  consider  with 
how  little  mental  power  and  corporal  labour  a 
printer  can  get  a  guinea  a  week,  it  is  a  very  de- 
sirable occupation  for  you.  Do  you  hear  ?  Take 
all  the  pains  you  can ;  and  if  this  does  not  do, 
we  must  think  of  some  other  way  of  life  for  you. 
There's  a  guinea.'  Here  was  one  of  the  many 
instances  of  his  active  benevolence.  At  the  same 
time  the  slow  and  sonorous  solemnity  with  which, 
while  he  bent  himself  down,  he  addressed  a  little 
thick,  short-legged  boy,  contrasted  with  the  boy's 
awkwardness  and  awe,  could  not  but  excite  some 
ludicrous  emotions." 

In  Ireland  Yard,  on  the  west  side  of  St.  Andrew's 
Hill,  and  in  the  parish  of  St.  Anne,  Blackfriars, 
stood  the  house  which  Shakespeare  bought,  in  the 
year  161 2,  and  which  he  bequeathed  by  will  to  his 
daughter,  Susanna  Hall.  In  the  deed  of  conveyance 
to  the  poet,  the  house  is  described  as  "  abutting 
upon  a  street  leading  down  to  Puddle  Wharf,  and 
now  or  late  in  the  tenure  or  occupation  of  one 
William  Ireland  "  (hence,  we  suppose,  Ireland  Yard), 
"  part  of  which  said  tenement  is  erected  over  a 
great  gate  leading  to  a  capital  messuage,  which 
some  time  was  in  the  tenure  of  William  Blackwell, 
Esq.,  deceased,  and  since  that  in  the  tenure  or 
occupation  of  the  Right  Honourable  Henry,  now 
Earl  of  Northumberland."  The  original  deed  of 
conveyance  is  shown  in  the  City  of  London 
Library,  at  Guildhall,  under  a  handsome  glass  case. 

The  street  leading  down  to  Puddle  Wharf  is 
called  St.  Andrew's  Hill,  from  the  Church  of  St. 
Andrew's-in-the- Wardrobe.  The  proper  name  (says 
Cunningham)  is  Puddle  Dock  Hill. 


220 


OLD  AND   NEW   LONDON. 


rLudgate  Hill. 


CHAPTER      XIX. 
LUDGATE  HILL. 

An  Ugly  Bridge  and  "  Ye  Belje  Savage  " — A  Radical  Publisher — The  Principal  Gate  of  London — From  a  Fortress  to  a  Prison—"  Remember  the 

Poor  Prisoners  "—  Relics  of  Early  Times— St.  Martin's,  Ludgate — The  London  Coffee  House — Celebrated   Goldsmiths  on  Ludgate  Hill 

Mrs.  Rundell's  Cookery  Book — Stationers'  Hall — Old  Burgavenny  House  and  its  History — Early  Days  of  the  Stationers'  Company — The 
Almanacks — An  Awkward  Misprint— The  Hall  and  its  Decorations — The  St.  Cecilia  Festivals — Dryden's  "St.  Cecilia's  Day"  and 
"  Alexander's  Feast " — Handel's  Setting  of  them— A  Modest  Poet — Funeral  Feasts  and  Political  Banquets — The  Company's  Plate — Their 
Charities — The  Pictures  at  Stationers'  Hall — The  Company's  Arms — Famous  Masters. 


Of  all  the  eyesores  of  modem  London,  surely 
the  most  hideous  is  the  Ludgate  Hill  Viaduct — 
that  enormous  flat  iron  that  lies  across  the  chest  of 
Ludgate  Hill  like  a  bar  of  metal  on  the  breast  of 
a  wretch  in  a  torture-chamber.  Let  us  hope  that 
a  time  will  come  when  all  designs  for  City  improve- 
ments will  be  compelled  to  endure  the  scrutiny  and 
win  the  approval  of  a  committee  of  taste.  The 
useful  and  the  beautiful  must  not  for  ever  be 
divorced.  The  railway  bridge  lies  flat  across  the 
street,  only  eighteen  feet  above  the  roadway,  and  is 
a  miracle  of  clumsy  and  stubborn  ugliness,  entirely 
spoiling  the  approach  to  one  of  the  finest  building^ 
in  London.  The  five  girders  of  wrought  iron  cross 
the  street,  here  only  forty-two  feet  wide,  and  the 
span  is  sixty  feet,  in  order  to  allow  of  future 
enlargement  of  the  street.  Absurd  lattice-work, 
decorative  brackets,  bronze  armorial  medallions, 
and  gas  lanterns  and  standards,  form  a  combination 
that  only  the  unsettled  and  imitative  art  of  the 
ruthless  nineteenth  century  could  have  put  together. 
Think  of  what  the  Egyptians  in  the  times  of  the 
Pharaohs  did  with  granite  !  and  observe  what  we 
Englishmen  of  the  present  day  do  with  iron. 
Observe  this  vulgar  daubing  of  brown  paint  and 
barbaric  gilding,  and  think  of  what  the  Moors  did 
with  colour  in  the  courts  of  the  Alhambra!  A 
viaduct  was  necessary,  we  allow,  but  such  a  viaduct 
even  the  architect  of  the  National  Gallery  would 
have  shuddered  at.  The  difficulties,  we  however 
allow,  were  great.  The  London,  Chatham,  and 
Dover,  eager  for  dividends,  was  bent  on  wedding 
the  Metropolitan  Railway  near  Smithfield;  but  how 
could  the  hands  of  the  affianced  couple  be  joined  ? 
If  there  was  no  viaduct,  there  must  be  a  tunnel. 
Now,  the  bank  of  the  river  being  a  very  short  dis- 
tance from  Smithfield,  a  very  steep  and  dangerous 
gradient  would  have  been  required  to  effect  the 
junction.  Moreover,  had  the  line  been  carried 
under  Ludgate  Hill,  there  must  have  been  a  slight 
detour  to  ease  the  ascent,  the  cost  of  which  detour 
would  have  been  enormous.  The  tunnel  proposed 
would  have  involved  the  destruction  of  a  few  trifles 
— such,  for  instance,  as  Apothecaries'  Hall,  the 
churchyard  adjoining,  the  Times  printing  office — 


besides  doing  injury  to  the  foundations  of  St. 
Martin's  Church,  the  Old  Bailey  Sessions  House, 
and  Newgate.  Moreover,  no  station  would  have 
been  possible  between  the  Thames  and  Smithfield. 
The  puzzled  inhabitants,  therefore,  ended  in  despair 
by  giving  evidence  in  favour  of  the  viaduct.  The 
stolid  hammermen  went  to  work,  and  the  iron 
nightmare  was  set  up  in  all  its  Babylonian 
hideousness. 

The  enormous  sura  of  upwards  of  ;^  10,000  was 
awarded  as  the  Metropolitan  Board's  quota  for 
removing  the  hoarding,  for  widening  the  pavement 
a  few  feet  under  the  railway  bridge  over  Ludgate 
Hill,  and  for  rounding  off"  the  corner. 

An  incredible  quantity  of  ink  has  been  shed 
about  the  origin  of  the  sign  of  the  "  Belle  Sauvage  " 
inn,  and  even  now  the  controversy  is  scarcely  settled. 
Mr.  Riley  records  that  in  1380  (Richard  II.)  a 
certain  William  Lawton  was  sentenced  to  an  uncom- 
fortable hour  in  the  pillory  for  trying  to  obtain, 
by  means  of  a  forged  letter,  twenty  shillings  from 
William  Savage,  Fleet  Street,  in  the  parish  of  St. 
Bridget.  This  at  least  shows  that  Savage  was 
the  name  of  a  citizen  of  the  locality.  In  1453 
(Henry  VI.)  a  clause  roll  quoted  by  Mr.  Lysons 
notices  the  bequest  of  John  French  to  his  mother, 
Joan  French,  widow,  of  "  Savage's  Inn,"  otherwise 
called  the  "  Bell  in  the  Hoop,"  in  the  parish  of 
St.  Bride's.  Stow  (Elizabeth)  mentions  a  Mrs. 
Savage  as  having  given  the  inn  to  the  Cutlers'  Com- 
pany, which,  however,  the  books  of  that  company 
disprove.  This,  anyhow,  is  certain,  that  in  1568 
(Elizabeth)  a  John  Craythorne  gave  the  reversion 
of  the  "  Belle  Sauvage  "  to  the  Cutlers'  Company, 
on  condition  that  two  exhibitions  to  the  university 
and  certain  sums  to  poor  prisoners  be  paid  by  them 
out  of  the  estate.  A  portrait  of  Craythorne's  wife 
still  hangs  in  Cutler's  Hall.  In  1584  the  inn  was 
described  as  ''Ye  Belle  Savage."  In  1648  and 
1672  the  landlords'  tokens  exhibited  (says  Mr. 
Noble)  an  Indian  woman  holding  a  bow  and 
arrow.  The  sign  in  Queen  Anne's  time  was  a 
savage  man  standing  by  a  bell.  The  question, 
therefore,  is,  whether  the  name  of  the  inn  was 
originally  derived  from  Isabel  (Bel)  Savage,  the  land- 


Ludgate  Hill.] 


THE  "BELLE  SAUVAGE"— A  RADICAL  PUBLISHER. 


221 


lady,  or  the  sign  of  the  bell  and  savage ;  or  whether 
it  was,  as  the  Spectator  cleverly  suggests,  from  La 
Belle  Sauvage,  "  the  beautiful  savage,"  which  is  a 
derivation  very  generally  received.  There  is  an  old 
French  romance  formerly  popular  in  this  country, 
the  heroine  of  which  was  known  as  La  Belle 
Sauvage ;  and  it  is  possible  that  Mrs.  Isabel  Savage, 
the  ancient  landlady,  might  have  become  in  time 
confused  with  the  heroine  of  the  old  romance. 

In  the  ante-Shakespearean  days  our  early  actors 
performed  in  inn-yards,  the  court-yard  representing 
the  pit,  the  upper  and  lower  galleries  the  boxes 
and  gallery  of  the  modern  theatre.  The  "  Belle 
Sauvage,"  says  Mr.  Collier,  was  a  favourite  place 
for  these  performances.  There  was  also  a  school  of 
defence,  or  fencing  school,  here  in  Queen  Eliza- 
beth's time ;  so  many  a  hot  Tybalt  and  fiery 
Mercutio  have  here  crossed  rapiers,  and  many  a  silk 
button  has  been  reft  from  gay  doublets  by  the 
quick  passadoes  of  the  young  swordsmen  who  ruffled 
it  in  the  Strand.  This  quondam  inn  was  also  the 
place  where  Banks,  the  showman  (so  often  men- 
tioned by  Nash  and  others  in  EUzabethan  parnphlets 
and  lampoons),  exhibited  his  wonderful  trained 
horse  "  Marocco,"  the  animal  which  once  ascended 
the  tower  of  St.  Paul's,  and  who  on  another  occa- 
sion, at  his  master's  bidding,  delighted  the  mob  by 
selecting  Tarleton.,  the  low  comedian,  as  the  greatest 
fool  present.  Banks  eventually  took  his  horse,  which 
was  shod  with  silver,  to  Rome,  and  the  priests, 
frightened  at  the  circus  tricks,  burnt  both  "  Marocco" 
and  his  master  for  witchcraft.  At  No.  1 1  in  this 
yard — now  such  a  little  world  of  industry,  although 
it  no  longer  rings  with  the  stage-coach  horn — lived 
in  his  obscurer  days  that  great  carver  in  wood, 
Grinling  Gibbons,  whose  genius  Evelyn  first  brought 
under  the  notice  of  Charles  II.  Horace  Walpole 
says  that,  as  a  sort  of  advertisement.  Gibbons  carved 
an  exquisite  pot  of  flowers  in  wood,  which  stood 
on  his  window-sill,  and  shook  surprisingly  with  the 
motion  of  the  coaches  that  passed  beneath.  No 
man  (says  Walpole)  before  Gibbons  had  "  ever  given 
to  wood  the  loose  and  airy  lightness  of  flowers,  or 
linked  together  the  various  productions  of  the 
elements  with  a.  free  disorder  natural  to  each 
species."  His  chef  d'(£uvre  of  skill  was  an  imitation 
point-lace  cravat,  which  he  carved  at  Chatsworth  for 
the  Duke  of  Devonshire.  Petworth  is  also  gar- 
landed with  Gibbons'  fruit,  flowers,  and  dead  game. 

Belle  Sauvage  Yard  no  longer  re-echoes  with  the 
guard's  rejoicing  horn,  and  the  old  coaching  in- 
terest is  now  only  represented  by  a  railway  parcel 
ofiice  huddled  up  in  the  left-hand  corner.  The  old 
galleries  are  gone  over  which  pretty  chambermaids 
leant  and  waved  their  dusters  in  farewell  greeting 


to  the  handsome  guards  or  smart  coachmen.  In- 
dustries of  a  very  different  character  have  now 
turned  the  old  yard  into  a  busy  hive.  It  is  not  for 
us  to  dilate  upon  the  firm  whose  operations  are 
carried  on  here,  but  it  may  interest  the  reader  to 
know  that  the  very  sheet  he  is  now  perusing  was 
printed  on  the  site  of  the  old  coaching  inn,  and 
published  very  near  the  old  tap-room  of  La  Belle 
Sauvage  \  for  where  coach-wheels  once  rolled  and 
clattered,  only  printing-press  wheels  now  revolve. 

The  old  inn-yard  is  now  very  much  altered  in 
plan  from  what  it  was  in  former  days.  Originally  it 
consisted  of  two  courts.  Into  the  outer  one  of  these 
the  present  archway  from  Ludgate  Hill  led.  It  at 
one  period  certainly  had  contained  private  houses, 
in  one  of  which  Grinling  Gibbons  had  lived.  The 
inn  stood  round  an  inner  court,  entered  by  a 
second  archway  which  stood  about  half-way  up  the 
present  yard.  Over  the  archway  facing  the  outer 
court  was  the  sign  of  "  The  Bell,"  and  all  round 
the  interior  ran  those  covered  galleries,  so  pro-> 
minent  a  feature  in  old  London  inns. 

Near  the  "  Belle  Sauvage  "  resided  that  proud 
cobbler  mentioned  by  Steele,  who  has  recorded  his 
eccentricities.  This  man  had  bought  a  wooden 
figure  of  a  beau  of  the  period,  who  stood  before  him 
in  a  bending  position,  and  humbly  presented  him 
with  his  awl,  wax,  bristles,  or  whatever  else  his 
tyrannical  master  chose  to  place  in  his  hand. 

To  No,  45  (south  side),  Ludgate  Hill,  that 
strange,  independent  man,  Lamb's  friend,  William 
Hone,  the  Radical  publisher,  came  from  Ship  Court, 
Old  Bailey,  where  he  had  published  those  blas- 
phemous "  Parodies,"  for  which  he  was  three  times 
tried  and  acquitted,  to  the  vexation  of  Lord  Ellen- 
borough.  Here,  having  sown  his  seditious  wild  oats 
and  broken  free  from  the  lawyers.  Hone  continued 
his  occasional  clever  political  satires,  sometimes 
suggested  by  bitter  Hazlitt  and  illustrated  by 
George  Cruikshank's  inexhaustible  fancy.  Here 
Hone  devised  those  delightful  miscellanies,  the 
"  Every-Day  Book"  and  "  Year  Book,"  into  which 
Lamb  and  many  young  poets  threw  all  their  humour 
and  power.  The  books  were  commercially  not 
very  successful,  but  they  have  delighted  generations, 
and  will  delight  generations  to  come.  Mr.  Timbs, 
who  saw  much  of  Hone,  describes  him  as  sitting 
in  a  second-floor  back  room,  surrounded  by  rare 
books  and  black-letter  volumes.  His  conversion 
from  materialism  to  Christianity  was  apparently 
sudden,  though  the  process  of  change  had  no 
doubt  long  been  maturing.  The  story  of  his  con- 
version is  thus  related  by  Mr.  Timbs  : — "  Hone 
was  once  called  to  a  house,  in  a  certain  street  in 
a  part  of  the  world  of  London  entirely  unknown 


222 


OLD    AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Ludgate  Hill. 


Ludgate  Hill.] 


THE   PRINCIPAL  GATE   OF   LONDON. 


223 


to  him.  As  he  walked  he  reflected  on  the  entirely 
unknown  region.  He  arrived  at  the  house,  and  was 
shown  into  a  room  to  wait.  All  at  once,  on  looking 
round,  to  his  astonishment  and  almost  horror, 
every  object  he  saw  seemed  familiar  to  him.  He 
said  to  himself,  '  What  is  this  ?  I  was  never  here 
before,  and  yet  I  have  seen  all  this  before,  and  as  a 


the  knot  in  the  particular  place  was  a  mere  coinci- 
dence. But,  considering  that  Hone  was  a  self- 
educated  man,  and,  like  many  sceptics,  was 
incredulous  only  with  regard  to  Christianity,  and 
even  believed  he  once  saw  an  apparition  in  Ludgate 
Hill,  who  can  be  surprised  ? 
At  No.  7,  opposite  Hone's,  "  The  Percy  Auec- 


THE   MUTILATED   STATUES   FROM    LUD   GATE,    I798   {see  page  226). 


proof  I  have  I  now  remember  a  very  peculiar  knot 
behind  the  shutters.'  He  opened  the  shutters,  and 
found  the  very  knot.  '  Now,  then,'  he  thought, 
'  here  is  something  I  cannot  explain  on  any  prin- 
ciple— there  must  be  some  power  beyond  matter.' " 
The  argument  that  so  happily  convinced  Hone  does 
not  seem  to  us  in  itself  as  very  convincing.  Hone's 
recognition  of  the  room  was  but  some  confused 
/nemory  of  an  analogous  place.  Knots  are  not 
uncommon  in  deal  shutters,  and  the  discovery  of 


dotes,"  that  well-chosen  and  fortunate  selection  of 
every  sort  of  story,  were  first  published. 

Lud  Gate,  which  Stow  in  his  "  Survey  "  designates 
the  sixth  and  principal  gate  of  London,  taken 
down  in  1760  at  the  solicitation  of  the  chief 
inhabitants  of  Farringdon  Without  and  Farring- 
don  Within,  stood  between  the  present  London 
Tavern  and  the  church  of  St.  Martin.  According 
to  old  Geoffry  of  Monmouth's  fabulous  history  of 
England,  this  entrance  to  London  was  first  built 


224 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Ludgate  HilL 


by  King  Lud,  a  British  monarch,  sixty-six  years 
before  Christ.  Our  later  antiquaries,  ruthless 
as  to  legends,  however  romantic,  consider  its 
original  name  to  have  been  the  Flood  or  Fleet 
Gate,  which  is  far  more  feasible.  Liid  Gate  was 
either  repaired  or  rebuilt  in  the  year  12 15,  when 

\  the  armed  barons,  under  Robert  Fitzwalter,  re- 
pulsed at  Northampton,  were  welcomed  to  London, 
and  there  awaited  King  John's  concession  of  the 
Magna  Charta.  While  in  the  metropolis  these 
greedy  and  fanatical  barons  spent  their  time  in 
spoiling  the  houses  of  the  rich  Jews,  and  used 
the  stones  in  strengthening  the  walls  and  gates  of 
the  City.  That  this  tradition  is  true  was  proved 
in  1586,  when  (as  Stow  says)_  all  the  gate  was 
rebuilt.  Embedded  among  other  stones  was  found 
one  on  which  was  engraved,  in  Hebrew  characters, 
the  words  "  This  is  the  ward  of  Rabbi  Moses,  the 
son  of  the  honourable  Rabbi  Isaac."  This  stone 
was  probably  the  sign  of  one  of  the  Jewish  houses 
pulled  down  by  Fitzwalter,  Magnaville,  and  the 
Earl  of  Gloucester,  perhaps  for  the  express  purpose 
of  obtaining  ready  materials  for  strengthening  the 
bulwarks  of  London.  In  1260  (Henry  III.)  Lud 
Gate  was  repaired,  and  beautified  with  images  of 
King  Lud  and  other  monarchs.  In  the  reign  of 
Edward  VI.  the  citizens,  zealous  against  everything 
that  approached   idolatry,  smote  off  the  heads  of 

.  Lud  and  his  family ;  but  Queen  Mary,  partial  to 
all  images,  afterwards  replaced  the  heads  on  the 
old  bodies. 

In  1554  King  Lud  and  his  sons  looked  down 
on  a  street  seething  with  angry  men,  and  saw  blood 
shed  upon  the  hill  leading  to  St.  Paul's.  Sir  Thomas 
Wyat,  a  Kentish  gentleman,  urged  by  the  Earl  of 
Devon,  and  led  on  by  the  almost  universal  dread  of 
Queen  Mary's  marriage  with  the  bigoted  Philip  of 
Spain,  assembled  1,500  armed  men  at  Rochester 
Castle,  and,  aided  by  500  Londoners,  who  deserted 
to  him,  raised  the  standard  of  insurrection.  Five 
vessels  of  the  fleet  joined  him,  and  with  seven  pieces 
of  artillery,  captured  from  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  he 
marched  upon  London.  Soon  followed  by  15,000 
men,  eager  to  save  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  Wyat 
marched  through  Dartford  to  Greenwich  and 
Deptford.  With  a  force  now  dwindled  to  7,000 
men,  Wyat  attacked  London  Bridge.  Driven  from 
there  by  the  Tower  guns,  he  marched  to  Kingston, 
crossed  the  river,  resolving  to  beat  back  the 
Queen's  troops  at  Brentford,  and  attempt  to  enter 
the  City  by  Lud  Gate,  which  some  of  the  Protestant 
citizens  had  offered  to  throw  open  to  him.  The 
Queen,  with  true  Tudor  courage,  refused  to  leave 
St.  James's,  and  in  a  council  of  war  it  was  agreed 
to  throw  a  strong  force  into  Lud  Gate,  and,  per- 


mitting Wyat's  advance  up  Fleet  Street,  to  enclose 
him  like  a  wild  boar  in  the  toils.  At  nine  on  a 
February  morning,  1554,  Wyat  reached  Hyde  Park 
Comer,  was  cannonaded  at  Hay  Hill,  and  further 
on  towards  Charing  Cross  he  and  some  three  or 
four  hundred  men  were  cut  off  from  his  other 
followers.  Rushing  on  with  a  standard  through 
Piccadilly,  Wyat  reached  Lud  Gate.  There  (says 
Stow)  he  knocked,  calling  out,  '"'  I  am  Wyat ;  the 
Queen  has  granted  all  my  petitions." 

But  the  only  reply  from  the  strongly-guarded 
gate  was  the  rough,  stern  voice  of  Lord  William 
Howard — "Avaunt,  traitor;  thou  shalt  have  no 
entrance  here." 

No  friends  appearing,  and  the  Royal  troops 
closing  upon  him,  Wyat  said,  "  I  have  kept  my 
promise,"  and  retiring,  silent  and  desponding,  sat 
down  to  rest  on  a  stall  opposite  the  gate  of  the 
"Belle  Sauvage."  Roused  by  the  shouts  and 
sounds  of  fighting,  he  fought  his  way  back,  with 
forty  of  his  staunchest  followers,  to  Temple  Bar, 
which  was  held  by  a  squadron  of  horse.  There 
the  Norroy  King-of-Arms  exhorted  him  to  spare 
blood  and  yield  himself  a  prisoner.  Wyat  then  sur- 
rendered himself  to  Sir  Maurice  Berkeley,  who  just 
then  happened  to  ride  by,  ignorant  of  the  affray, 
and,  seated  behind  Sir  Maurice,  he  was  taken  to 
St.  James's.  On  April  nth  Wyat  perished  on  the 
scaffold  at  Tower  Hill.  This  rash  rebellion  also 
led  to  the  immediate  execution  of  the  innocent 
and  unhappy  Lady  Jane  Grey  and  her  husband, 
Guilford  Dudley,  endangered  the  life  of  the  Princess 
Elizabeth,  and  hastened  the  Queen's  marriage  with 
Philip,  which  took  place  at  Winchester,  July  25th 
of  the  same  year. 

In  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  (1586),  the  old  gate, 
being  "  sore  decayed,"  was  pulled  down,  and  was 
newly  built,  with  images  of  Lud  and  others  on  the 
east  side,  and  a  "picture  of  the  lion-hearted 
queen "  on  the  west,  the  cost  of  the  whole  l:)eing 
over  ^1,500. 

Lud  Gate  became  a  free  debtors'  prison  the  first 
year  of  Richard  II.,  and  was  enlarged  in  1463 
(Edward  IV.)  by  that  "  well-disposed,  'blessed,  and 
devout  woman,"  the  widow  of  Stephen  Forster, 
fishmonger,  Mayor  of  London  in  1454.  Of  this 
benefactress  of  Lud  Gate,  Maitland  (1739)  has  the 
following  legend.  Forster  himself,  according  to 
this  story,  in  his  younger  days  had  once  been 
a  pining  prisoner  in  Lud  Gate.  Being  one  day  at 
the  begging  grate,  a  rich  widow  asked  how  much 
would  release  him.  He  said,  "Twenty  pounds." 
She  paid  it,  and  took  him  into  her  service,  where, 
by  his  indefatigable  application  to  business,  he  so 
gained  her  affections  that  she  married  him,  and  he 


Whitefriars.] 


"REMEMBER  THE   POOR   PRISONERS." 


225 


earned  so  great  riches  by  commerce  that  she  con- 
curred with  him  to  make  his  former  prison  more 
commodious,  and  to  endow  a  new  chapel,  where, 
on  a  wall,  there  was  this  inscription  on  a  brass 
plate : — 

"  Devout  souls  that  pass  this  way, 
For  Stephen  Forster,  late  Lord  Mayor,  heartily  pray, 
And  Dame  Agnes,  his  spouse,  to  God  consecrate, 
That  of  pity  this  house  made  for  Londoners  in  Lud  Gate  ; 
So  that  for  lodging  and  water  prisoners  here  nought  pay, 
As  their  keepers  shall  all  answer  at  dreadful  doomsday." 

This  legend  of  Lud  Gate  is  also  the  foundation  of 
Rowley's  comedy  of  ^  Woman  Never  Vexi;  or,  The 
Widow  of  Coriihill,  which  has  in  our  times  been 
revived,  with  alterations,  by  Mr.  Planche.  In  the  first 
scene  of  the  fifth  act  occurs  the  following  passage : — 

"  Mrs.  S.   Forster.  But  why  remove  the  prisoners  from 

Ludgate  ? 
"  Stephen  Forster.  To  take  the  prison  down  and  build  it 
new, 
With  leads  to  walk  on,  chambers  large  and  fair ; 
For  when  myself  lay  there  the  noxious  air 
Choked  up  my  spirits.     None  but  captives,  wife,  ( 

Can  know  what  captives  feel." 

Stow,  however,  seems  to  deny  this  story,  and 
suggests  that  it  arose  from  some  mistake.  The 
stone  with  the  inscription  was  preserved  by  Stow 
when  the  gate  was  rebuilt,  together  with  Forster's 
arms,  "  three  broad  arrow-heads,"  and  was  fixed 
over  the  entry  to  the  prison.  The  enlargement  of 
the  prison  on  the  south-east  side  formed  a  quadrant 
thirty-eight  feet  long  and  twenty-nine  feet  wide. 
There  were  prisoners'  rooms  above  it,  with  a  leaden 
roof,  where  the  debtors  could  walk,  and  both  lodging 
and  water  were  free  of  charge. 

Strype  says  the  prisoners  in  Ludgate  were  chiefly 
merchants  and  tradesmen,  who  had  been  driven  to 
want  by  losses  at  sea.  When  King  Philip  came 
to  London  after  his  marriage  witl;  Mary  in  1554 
thirty  prisoners  in  Lud  Gate,  who  were  in  gaol  for 
,T^io,ooo,  compounded  for  at  ^,^2,000,  presented 
the  king  a  well-penned  Latin  speech,  written  by 
"  the  curious  pen  "  of  Roger  Ascham,  praying  the 
king  to  redress  their  miseries,  and  by  his  royal 
generosity  to  free  them,  inasmuch  as  the  place  was 
not  sceleratormn  career,  sed  miserorum  custodia  (not 
a  dungeon  for  the  wicked,  but  a  place  of  detention 
for  the  wretched). 

Marmaduke  Johnson,  a  poor  debtor  in  Lud  Gate 
the  year  before  the  Restoration,  wrote  a  curious 
account  of  the  prison,  which  Strype  printed.  The 
officials  in  "King  Lud's  House"  seem  to  have 
been — i,  a  reader  of  Divine  service ;  2,  the 
upper  steward,  called  the  master  of  the  box ;  3, 
the  under  steward ;  4,  seven  assistants — that  is, 
one   for  every   day  of   the  week  ;    5,  a  running  I 


assistant ;  6,  two  churchwardens ;  7,  a  scavenger ; 
8,  a  chamberlain;  9,  a  runner;  10,  the  cryers  at 
the  grate,  six  in  number,  who  by  turns  kept  up  the 
ceaseless  cry  to  the  passers-by  of  "  Remember  the 
poor  prisoners  !  "  The  officers'  charge  (says  John- 
son) for  taking  a  debtor  to  Ludgate  was  sometimes 
three,  four,  or  five  shillings,  though  their  just  due  is 
but  twopence ;  for  entering  name  and  address, 
fourteen  pence  to  the  turnkey;  a  lodging  is  one 
penny,  twopence,  or  threepence ;  for  sheets  to  the 
chamberlain,  eighteenpence ;  to  chamber-fellows  a 
garnish  of  four  shillings  (for  non-payment  of  this 
his  clothes  were  taken  away,  or  "  mobbed,"  as  it  was 
called,  till  he  did  pay) ;  and  the  next  day  a  due  of 
sixteen  pence  to  one  of  the  stewards,  which  was 
called  table  money.  At  his  discharge  the  several  fees 
were  as  follows  : — Two  shillings  the  master's  fee ; 
fourteen  pence  for  the  turning  of  the  key ;  twelve 
pence  for  every  action  that  lay  against  him.  For 
leave  to  go  out  with  a  keeper  upon  security  (as 
formerly  in  the  Queen's  Bench)  the  prisoners  paid 
for  the  first  time  four  shillings  and  tenpence, 
and  two  shillings  every  day  afterwards.  The  exor- 
bitant prison  fees  of  three  shillings  a  day  swallowed 
up  all  the  prison  bequests,  and  the  miserable  debtors 
had  to  rely  on  better  means  from  the  Lord  Mayor's 
table,  the  light  bread  seized  by  the  clerk  of  the 
markets,  and  presents  of  under-sized  and  illegal 
fish  from  the  water-bailiffs. 

A  curious  handbill  of  the  year  1664,  preserved  b/ 
Mr.  Collier,  and  containing  the  petition  of  180  poor 
Ludgate  prisoners,  seems  to  have  been  a  circular 
taken  round  by  the  alms-seekers  of  the  prison, 
who  perambulated  the  streets  with  baskets  at  their 
backs  and  a  sealed  money-box  in  their  hands. 
"We  most  humbly  beseech  you,"  says  the  handbill, 
"  even  for  God's  cause,  to  relieve  us  with  your 
charitable  benevolence,  and  to  put  into  this  bearer's 
box — the  same  being  sealed  with  the  house  seal, 
as  it  is  figured  upon  this  petition." 

A  quarto  tract,  entitled  "  Prison  Thoughts,"  by 
Thomas  Browning,  citizen  and  cook  of  London,  a 
prisoner  in  Lud  Gate,  "where  poor  citizens  are  con- 
fined and  starve  amidst  copies  of  their  freedom," 
was  published  in  that  prison,  by  the  author,  in 
1682.  It  is  \vritten  both  in  prose  and  verse,  and 
probably  gave  origin  to  Dr.  Dodd's  more  elaborate 
work  on  the  same  subject.  The  following  is  a 
specimen  of  the  poetry : — 

"  ON  PATIENCE. 
'•  Patience  is  the  poor  man's  walk. 
Patience  is  the  dumb  man's  talk. 
Patience  is  the  lame  man's  thighs, 
Patience  is  the  blind  man's  eyes. 
Patience  is  the  poor  man's  ditty, 
Patience  is  the  exil'd  man's  city, 


226 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Luc' gate  Hill. 


Patience  is  the  sick  man's  bed  of  down, 
Patience  is  the  wise  man's  crown, 
Patience  is  the  live  man's  story. 
Patience  is  the  dead  man's  glory. 

*'  When  your  troubles  do  controul, 
In  Patience  then  possess  your  soul." 

In  the  Spectator  (Queen  Anne)  a  writer  says  : 
"  Passing  under  Lud  Gate  the  other  day,  I  heard  a 
voice  bawling  for  charity  which  I  thought  I  had 
heard  somewhere  before.  Coming  near  to  the 
grate,  the  prisoner  called  me  by  my  name,  and 
desired  I  would  throw  something  into  the  box." 

The  prison  at  Lud 
Gate  was  gutted  by  the 
Great  Fire  of  1666,  and 
in  1760,  the  year  of 
George  IIL's  acces- 
sion, the  gate,  impeding 
traffic,  was  taken  down, 
and  the  materials  sold 
for  £\a,Z.  The  pri- 
soners were  removed 
to  the  London  Work- 
house, in  Bishopsgate 
Street,  a  part  whereof 
was  fitted  up  for  that 
purpose,  and  Lud  Gate 
prisoners  continued  to 
be  received  there  until 
the  year  1794,  when 
they  were  removed  to 
the  prison  of  Lud  Gate, 
adjoining  the  compter 
in  Giltspur  Street. 

When  old  Lud  Gate 
was  pulled  down,  Lud 
and  his  worthy  sons 
were  given  by  the  City 
to  Sir  Francis  Gosling, 
who  intended  to  set 
them  up  at  the  east  end  of  St.  Dunstan's.  Never- 
theless the  royal  effigies,  of  very  rude  workmanship, 
were  sent  to  end  their  days  in  the  parish  bone-house ; 
a  better  fate,  however,  awaited  them,  for  the  late 
Marquis  of  Hertford  eventually  purchased  them, 
and  they  are  now,  with  St.  Dunstan's  clock,  in 
Hertford  Villa,  Regent's  Park.  The  statue  of 
Elizabeth  was  placed  in  a  niche  in  the  outer  wall 
of  old  St.  Dunstan's  Church,  and  it  still  adorns  the 
new  church,  as  we  have  before  mentioned  in  our 
chapter  on  Fleet  Street. 

In  1792  an  interesting  discovery  was  made  in 
St.  Martin's  Court,  Ludgate  Hill.  Workmen  came 
upon  the  remains  of  a  small  barbican,  or  watch- 
tower,  part  of  the  old  City  wall  of  1276 ;  and  in  a 


OLD   LUD   GATE,    FROM   A   PRINT   PUBLISHED   ABOUT 
{see  page  223). 


line  with  the  Old  Bailey  they  found  another  outwork. 
A  fragment  of  it  in  a  court  is  now  built  up.  A  fire 
which  took  place  on  the  premises  of  Messrs.  Kay, 
Ludgate  Hill,  May  1^1792,  disclosed  these  interesting 
ruins,  probably  left  by  the  builders  after  the  fire  of 
1666  as  a  foundation  for  new  buildings.  The  tower 
projected  four  feet  from  the  wall  into  the  City  ditch, 
and  measured  twenty-two  feet  from  top  to  bottom. 
The  stones  were  of  different  sizes,  the  largest  and 
the  corner  rudely  squared.  They  had  been  bound 
together  with  cement  of  hot  lime,  so  that  wedges 
had  to  be  used  to  split  the  blocks  asunder.     Small 

square  holes  in  the 
sides  of  the  tower 
seemed  to  have  been 
used  either  to  receive 
floor  timbers,  or  as 
peep-holes  for  the  sen- 
tries. The  adjacent 
part  of  the  City  wall 
was  about  eight  feet 
thick,  and  of  rude 
workmanship,  consist- 
ing of  irregular-sized 
stones,  chalk,  and  flint. 
The  only  bricks  seen 
in  this  part  of  the 
wall  were  on  the  south 
side,  bounding  Stone- 
cutters' Alley.  On  the 
east  half  of  Chatham 
Place,  Blackfriars 
Bridge,  stood  the  tower 
built  by  order  of  Ed- 
ward I.,  at  the  end  of 
a  continuation  of  the 
City  wall,  running  from 
Lud  Gate  behind  the 
houses  in  Fleet  Ditch 
to  the  Thames.    A  rare 


1750 


plan  of  London,  by  Hollar  (says  Mr.  J.  T.  Smith), 
marks  this  tower.  Roman  monuments  have  been 
so  frequently  dug  up  near  St.  Martin's  Church,  that 
there  is  no  doubt  that  a  Roman  extra-mural  ceme- 
tery once  existed  here;  in  the  same  locality,  in 
1800,  a  sepulchral  monument  was  dug  up,  dedi- 
cated to  Claudina  Mertina,  by  her  husband,  a 
Roman  soldier.  A  fragment  of  a  statue  of  Hercules 
and  a  female  head  were  also  found,  and  were  pre- 
served at  the  "  London  "  Coffee  House. 

Ludgate  Hill  and  Street  is  probably  the  greatest 
thoroughfare  in  London.  Through  Ludgate  Hill 
and  Street  there  have  passed  in  twelve  hours  8,752 
vehicles,  13,025  horses,  and  105,352  persons. 

St.    Martin's,  Ludgate,    though   one   of  Wren's 


Ludgate  Hill.] 


ST.    MARTIN'S,   LUDGAIE. 


227 


churches,  is  not  a  romantic  building;  yet  it  has 
its  legends.  Robert  of  Gloucester,  a  rhyming 
chronicler,  describes  it  as  built  by  Cadwallo,  a 
British  prince,  in  the  seventh  century  : — 

"  A  chirch  of  Sent  Martyn  livying  he  let  rere, 
In  whyche  yet  man  should  Goddy's  seruys  do, 
And  singe  for  his  soule,  and  al  Christine  also." 

The  church  seems  to  have  been  rebuilt  in  1437 
(Henry  VI.).  From  the  parish  books,  which  com- 
mence in  14 10,  we  find  the  old  church  to  have  had 
several  chapels,  and  to  have  been  well  furnished 
with  plate,  paintings,  and  vestments,  and  to  have 
had  two  projecting  porches  on  the  south  side, 
next  Ludgate  Hill.  The  right  of  presentation  to 
St.  Martin's  belong'^d  to  the  Abbot  of  Westminster, 
but  Queen  Mary  granted  it  to  the  Bishop  of  London. 
The  following  curious  epitaph  in  St.  Martin's,  found 
also  elsewhere,  has  been  beautifully  paraphrased 
by  the  Quaker  poet,  Bernard  Barton : — 

Eartli  goes  to  ^  f  As  mold  to  mold, 

Earth  treads  on  |  I  Glittering  in  gold, 

Earth  as  to  [-Krirth,  i  Return  nere  should, 

Earth  shall  to  j  ^  Goe  ere  he  would. 

Earth  upon  ^  f  Consider  may, 

Earth  goes  to  I  J  Naked  away, 

Earth  though  on  1  i-^r"ii  j  Be  stout  and  gay. 

Earth  sht^U  from  J  I.  Passe  poore  away. 

Strype  says  of  St.  Martin's — "  It  is  very  comely, 
and  ascended  up  by  stone  steps,  well  finished 
within  ;  and  hath  a  most  curious  spire  steeple,  of 
excellent  workmanship,  pleasant  to  behold."  The 
new  church  stands  farther  back  than  the  old. 
The  little  black  spire  that  adorns  the  tower  rises 
from  a  small  bulb  of  a  cupola,  round  which  runs 
a  light  gallery.  Between  the  street  and  the  body 
of  the  church  Wren,  always  ingenious,  contrived 
an  ambulatory  the  whole  depth  of  the  tower,  to 
deaden  the  sound  of  passing  traffic.  The  church 
is  a  cube,  the  length  57  feet,  the  breadth  66  feet; 
the  spire,  168  feet  high,  is  dwarfed  by  St.  Paul's. 
The  church  cost  in  erection  ^{^5,3 7  8  iSs.  8d. 

The  composite  pillars,  organ  balcony,  and  oaken 
altar-piece  are  tasteless  and  pagan.  The  font  was 
the  gift  of  Thomas  Moiley,  in  1673,  and  is  en- 
circled by  a  favourite  old  Greek  palindrome,  that 
is,  a  puzzle  sentence  that  reads  equally  well  back- 
wards or  forwards — 

"  Tripson  anomeema  me  monan  opsin." 
(Cleanse  thy  sins,  not  merely  thy  outward  self.) 

This  inscription,  according  to  Mr.  G.  Godwin 
("Churches  of  London"),  is  also  found  on  the  font 
in  the  basilica  of  St.  Sophia,  Constantinople.  In  the 
vestry-room,  approached  by  a  flight  of  stairs  at  the 
north-east  anQ;le  of  the  church,  there  is  a  carved 


seat  (date  1690)  and  several  chests,  covered  with 
curious  indented  ornaments. 

On  this  church,  and  other  satellites  of  St.  Paul's, 
a  poet  has  written — 

"  So,  like  a  bishop  upon  dainties  fed, 
St.  Paul's  lifts  up  his  sacerdotal  head  ; 
While  his  lean  curates,  slim  and  lank  to  view, 
Around  him  point  their  steeples  to  the  blue." 

Coleridge  used  to  compare  a  Mr.  H ,  who 

was  always  putting  himself  forward  to  interpret  Fox's 
sentiments,  to  the  steeple  of  St.  Martin's,  which 
is  constantly  getting  in  the  way  when  you  wish  to 
see  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's. 

One  great  man,  at  least,  has  been  connected 
with  this  church,  where  the  Knights  Templars  were 
put  to  trial,  and  that  was  good  old  Purchas,  the 
editor  and  enlarger  of  "  Hakluyt's  Voyages."  He 
was  rector  of  this  parish.  Hakluyt  was  a  pre- 
bendary of  Westminster,  who,  with  a  passion  for 
geographical  research,  though  he  himself  never 
ventured  farther  than  Paris,  had  devoted  his  life, 
encouraged  by  Drake  and  Raleigh,  in  collecting 
from  old  libraries  and  the  lips  of  venturous 
merchants  and  sea  -  captains  travels  in  various 
countries.  The  manuscript  remains  were  bought 
by  Purchas,  who,  with  a  veneration  worthy  of  that 
heroic  and  chivalrous  age,  wove  them  into  his 
"Pilgrims"  (five  vols.,  folio),  which  are  a  treasury 
of  travel,  exploit,  and  curious  adventures.  It  has 
been  said  that  Purchas  ruined  himself  by  this  pub- 
lication, and  that  he  died  in  prison.  This  is  not, 
however,  true.  He  seems  to  have  impoverished 
himself  chiefly  by  taking  upon  himself  the  care  and 
cost  of  his  brother  and  brother-in-law's  children. 
He  appears  to  have  been  a  single-minded  man,  with 
a  thorough  devotion  to  geographic  study.  Charles  I. 
promised  him  a  deanery,  but  Purchas  did  not  live 
to  enjoy  it. 

There  is  an  architectural  tradition  that  Wren  pur- 
posely designed  the  spire  of  St.  Martin's,  Ludgate, 
small  and  slender,  to  give  a  greater  dignity  to  the 
dome  of  St.  Paul's. 

The  London  Coffee  House,  24  to  26,  Ludgate 
Hill,  a  place  of  celebrity  in  its  day,  was  first  opened 
in  May,  1731.  The  proprietor,  James  Ashley,  in 
his  advertisement  announcing  the  opening,  pro- 
fesses cheap  prices,  especially  for  punch.  The  usual 
price  of  a  quart  of  arrack  was  then  eight  shillings, 
and  six  shillings  for  a  quart  of  rum  made  into 
punch.  This  new  punch  house,  Dorchester  beer, 
and  Welsh  ale  warehouse,  on  the  contrary,  professed 
to  charge  six  shillings  for  a  quart  of  arrack  made 
into  punch  ;  while  a  quart  of  rum  or  brandy  made 
into  punch  was  to  be  four  shillings,  and  half  a 
quartern  fourpcnce  halfpenny,  and  gentlemen  were 


228 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


Ludgate  Hill.] 


to  have  punch  as  quickly  made  as  a  gill  of  wine 
could  be  drawn.  After  Roney  and  Ellis,  the  house, 
according  to  Mr.  Timbs,  was  taken  by  Messrs. 
Leech  and  Dallimore.  Mr.  Leech  was  the  father 
of  one  of  the  most  admirable  caricaturists  of 
modern  times.  Then  came  Mr.  Lovegrove,  from 
the  "Horn,"  Doctors'  Commons.  In  1856  Mr. 
Robert  Clarke  took  possession,  and  was  the  last 
tenant,  the  house  being  closed  in  1867,  and  pur- 


Prison.  At  the  bar  of  the  London  Coffee  House 
was  sold  Rowley's  British  Cephalic  Snuff.  A 
singular  incident  occurred  here  many  years  since. 
Mr.  Brayley,  the  topographer,  was  present  at  a 
party,  when  Mr.  Broadhurst,  the  famous  tenor,  by 
singing  a  high  note  caused  a  wine-glass  on  the 
table  to  break,  the  bowl  being  separated  from  the 
stem. 

At  No.  32  (north  side)  for  many  years  Messrs. 


RUINS  OF   THE   BARBICAN   ON    LUDGATE   HILL     (see  page  226). 


chased  by  the  Corporation  for  ^^38,000.  Several 
lodges  of  Freemasons  and  sundry  clubs  were  wont 
to  assemble  here  periodically — among  them  "  The 
Sons  of  Industry,"  to  which  many  of  the  influential 
tradesmen  of  the  wards  of  Farringdon  have  been 
long  attached.  Here,  too,  in  the  large  hall,  the 
juries  from  the  Central  Criminal  Court  were  lodged 
during  the  night  when  important  cases  lasted  more 
than  one  day.  During  the  Exeter  Hall  May 
meetings  the  London  Coffee  House  was  frequently 
resorted  to  as  a  favourite  place  of  meeting.  It  was 
also  noted  for  its  publishers'  sales  of  stocks  and 
copyrights.     It  was  within  the  rules  of  the  Fleet 


Rundell  and  Bridge,  the  celebrated  goldsmiths  and 
diamond  merchants,  carried  on  their  business.  Here 
Flaxman's  chef  d'oeuvre,  the  Shield  of  Achilles,  in 
silver  gilt,  was  executed ;  also  the  crown  worn  by 
that  august  monarch,  George  IV.  at  his  corona- 
tion, for  the  loan  of  the  jewels  of  which  ;^7,ooo 
was  charged,  and  among  the  elaborate  luxuries  a 
gigantic  silver  wine-cooler  (now  at  Windsor),  that 
took  two  years  in  chasing.  Two  men  could  be 
seated  inside  that  great  cup,  and  on  grand  occasions 
it  has  been  filled  with  wine  and  served  round  to 
the  guests.  Two  golden  salmon,  leaning  against 
each  other,  was  the  sign  of  this  old  shop,  now 


Ludgate  Hill.l 


THE   STATIONERS'   COMPANY. 


229 


removed.  Mrs.  Rundell  met  a  great  want  of 
her  day  by  writing  her  well-known  book,  "  The 
Art  of  Cookery,"  published  in  1806,  and  which 
has  gone  through  countless  editions.  Up  to  1833 
she  had  received  no  remuneration  for  it,  but  she 
ultimately  obtained  2,000  guineas.  People  had 
no  idea  of  cooking  in  those  days  ;  and  she  laments 
in  her  preface  the  scarcity  of  good  melted  butter, 
good  toast  and  water,  and  good  coffee.  Her  direc- 
tions  were  sensible   and  clear ;   and  she  studied 


was  first  incorporated.  The  old  house  had  been, 
in  the  reign  of  Edward  HI.,  the  palace  of  John, 
Duke  of  Bretagne  and  Earl  of  Richmond.  It  was 
afterwards  occupied  by  the  Earls  of  Pembroke.  In 
Elizabeth's  reign  it  belonged  to  Lord  Abergavenny, 
whose  daughter  married  Sir  Thomas  Vane.  In 
161 1  (James  I.)  the  Stationers'  Company  purchased 
it  and  took  complete  possession.  The  house  was 
swept  away  in  the  Great  Fire  of  1666,  when 
the    Stationers  —  the    greatest    sufferers    on    that 


INTERIOR  OF   STATIONERS'    HALL   (see  page  230). 


economical  cooking,  which  great  cooks  like  Ude 
and  Francatelli  despised.  It  is  not  every  one  who 
can  aflFord  to  prepare  for  a  good  dish  by  stewing 
down  half-a-dozen  hams. 

The  hall  of  the  Stationers'  Company  hides  itself 
with  the  modesty  of  an  author  in  Stationers'  Hall 
Court,  Ludgate  Hill,  close  abutting  on  Paternoster 
Row,  a  congenial  neighbourhood.  This  hall  of 
the  master,  and  keeper,  and  wardens,  and  com- 
monalty of  the  mystery  or  art  of  the  Stationers  of 
the  City  of  London  stands  on  the  site  of  Burg^- 
venny  House,  which  the  Stationers  modified  and 
re-erected  in  the  third  and  fourth  years  of  Philip 
and  Mary — the  dangerous  period  when  the  company 
20 


occasion  —  lost    property    to     the    amount    of 

;£"200,000. 

The  fraternity  of  the  Stationers  of  London  (says 
Mr.  John  Cough  Nichols,  F.S.A.,  who  has  written 
a  most  valuable  and  interesting  historical  notice  of 
the  Worshipful  Company)  is  first  mentioned  in  the 
fourth  year  of  Henry  IV.,  when  their  bye-laws  were 
approved  by  the  City  authorities,  and  they  are 
then  described  as  "  writers  (transcribers),  lymners  of 
books  and  dyverse  things  for  the  Church  and  other 
uses."  In  early  times  all  special  books  were  pro- 
tected by  special  letters  patent,  so  that  the  early 
registers  of  Stationers'  Hall  chiefly  comprise  books 
of  entertainment,  sermons,  pamphlets,  and  ballads. 


2.^0 


OLD  AND    NEW    LONDON. 


[Ludgate  Hill. 


ISIary  originally  incorporated  the  society  in  order 
to  put  a  stop  to  heretical  writings,  and  gave  the 
Company  power  to  search  in  any  shop,  house, 
chamber,  or  building  of  printer,  binder,  or  seller, 
for  books  published  contrary  to  statutes,  acts,  and 
proclamations.  King  James,  in  the  first  year  of  his 
reign,  by  letters-patent,  granted  the  Stationers'  Com- 
pany the  exclusive  privilege  of  printing  Almanacs, 
Primers,  Psalters,  the  A  B  C,  the  ''Little  Cate- 
chism," and  Nowell's  Catechism. 

The  Stationers'  Company,  for  two  important 
centuries  in  English  history  (says  Mr.  Cunningham), 
had  pretty  well  the  monopoly  of  learning.  Printers 
were  obliged  to  serve  their  time  to  a  member  of 
the  Company ;  and  almost  every  publication,  from 
a  Bible  to  a  ballad,  was  required  to  be  "  entered  at 
Stationers'  Hall."  The  service  is  now  unnecessary, 
but  Parliament  still  requires,  under  the  recent 
Copyright  Act,  that  the  proprietor  of  ever>'  pub- 
lished work  should  register  his  claim  in  the  books 
of  the  Stationers'  Company,  and  pay  a  fee  of  five 
shillings.  The  number  of  the  freemen  of  the 
Company  is  between  i,ooo  and  i,ioo,  and  of  the 
livery,  or  leading  persons,  about  450.  The  capital 
of  the  Company  amounts  to  upwards  of  ^^40,000, 
divided  into  shares,  varying  in  value  from  ;^4o  to 
;^4oo  each.  The  great  treasure  of  the  Stationers' 
Company  is  its  series  of  registers  of  works  entered 
for  publication.  This  valuable  collection  of  entries 
commences  in  1557,  and,  though  often  consulted 
and  quoted,  was  never  properly  understood  till  Mr. 
J.  Payne  Collier  published  two  carefully-edited 
volumes  of  extracts  from  its  earlier  pages. 

The  celebrated  Bible  of  the  year  1632,  with  the 
important  word  "not"  omitted  in  the  seventh 
commandment — "Thou  shalt  not  commit  adul- 
tery"— was  printed  by  the  Stationers'  Company. 
Archbishop  Laud  made  a  Star-Chamber  matter 
of  the  omission,  and  a  heavy  fine  was  laid  upon 
the  Company  for  their  neglect.  And  in  another 
later  edition,  in  Psalm  xiv.  the  text  ran,  "  The  fool 
hath  said  in  his  heart.  There  is  a  God."  For  the 
omission  of  the  important  word  "  no  "  the  printer 
was  fined  ;^3,ooo.  Several  other  errors  have 
occurred,  but  the  wonder  is  that  they  have  not  been 
more  frequent. 

The  only  publications  wLich  the  Company  con- 
tinues to  issue  are  a  Latin  gradus  and  almanacks, 
of  which  it  had  at  one  time  the  entire  monopoly. 
Almanack-day  at  Stationers'  Hall  (every  22nd  of 
November,  at  three  o'clock)  is  a  sight  worth  seeing, 
from  the  bustle  of  the  porters  anxious  to  get  off 
with  early  supplies.  The  Stationers'  Company's 
almanacks  are  now  by  no  means  the  best  of  the  day. 
Mr.  Charles  Knight,  who  worked  so  strenuously 


and  so  successfully  for  the  spread  of  popular 
education,  first  struck  a  blow  at  the  absurd 
monopoly  of  almanack  printing.  So  much  behind 
the  age  is  this  privileged  Company,  that  it  actually 
still  continues  to  publish  Moore's  quack  almanack, 
with  the  nonsensical  old  astrological  tables,  de- 
scribing the  moon's  influence  on  various  parts  or 
the  human  body.  One  year  it  is  said  they  had 
the  courage  to  leave  out  this  farrago,  with  the 
hieroglyphics  originally  stolen  by  Lilly  from  monkish 
manuscripts,  and  from  Lilly  stolen  by  Moore.  The 
result  was  that  most  of  the  copies  were  returned  on 
their  hands.  They  have  not  since  dared  to  oppose 
the  stolid  force  of  vulgar  ignorance.  They  still 
publish  Wing's  sheet  almanack,  though  Wing  was 
an  impostor  and  fortune-teller,  who  died  eight 
years  after  the  Restoration.  All  this  is  very  un- 
worthy of  a  privileged  company,  with  an  invested 
capital  of  ;^4o,ooo,  and  does  not  much  help 
forward  the  enlightenment  of  the  poorer  classes. 
This  Company  is  entitled,  for  the  supposed  security 
of  the  copyright,  to  two  copies  of  every  work, 
however  costly,  published  in  the  United  Kingdom, 
a  mischievous  tax,  which  restrains  the  publication 
of  many  valuable  but  expensive  works. 

The  first  Stationers'  Hall  was  in  Milk  Street. 
In  1553  they  removed  to  St.  Peter's  College,  near 
St.  Paul's  Deanery,  where  the  chantry  priests  of 
St.  Paul's  had  previously  resided.  The  present 
hall  closely  resembles  the  hall  at  Bridewell,  having 
a  row  of  oval  windows  above  the  lower  range, 
which  were  fitted  up  by  Mr.  Mylne  in  1800,  when 
the  chamber  was  cased  with  Portland  stone  and  the 
lower  windows  lengthened. 

The  great  window  at  the  upper  end  of  the  hall 
was  erected  in  1801,  at  the  expense  of  Mr.  Alder- 
man Cadell.  It  includes  some  older  glass  blazoned 
with  the  arms  and  crest  of  the  company,  the  two 
emblematic  figures  of  Religion  and  Learning  being 
designed  by  Smirke.  Like  most  ancient  halls,  it 
has  a  raised  dais,  or  haut  place,  which  is  occupied 
by  the  Court  table  at  the  two  great  dinners  in 
August  and  November.  On  the  wall,  above  the 
wainscoting  that  has  glowed  red  with  the  reflection 
of  many  a  bumper  of  generous  wine,  are  hung  in 
decorous  state  the  pavises  or  shields  of  arms  of 
members  of  the  court,  which  in  civic  processions 
are  usually  borne  by  a  body  of  pensioners,  the 
number  of  whom,  when  the  Lord  Mayor  is  a  member 
of  the  Company,  corresponds  with  the  years  of  that 
august  dignitary's  age.  In  the  old  water-show  these 
escutcheons  decorated  the  sides  of  the  Company's 
barge  when  they  accompanied  the  Lord  Mayor  to 
Westminster,  and  called  at  the  landing  of  Lambeth 
Palace  to  pay  their  respects  to  the  representative  of 


I 


LudgateHilM 


THE   COMMEMORATION   OF  ST.    CECILIA. 


231 


their  former  ecclesiastical  censors.  On  this  occa- 
sion the  Archbishop  usually  sent  out  the  thirsty- 
Stationers  a  hamper  of  wine,  while  the  rowers  of 
the  barge  had  bread  and  cheese  and  ale  to  their 
hearts'  content.  It  is  still  the  custom  (says  Mr. 
Nichols)  to  forward  the  Archbishop  annually  a 
set  of  the  Company's  almanacks,  and  some  also 
to  the  Lord  Chancellor  and  the  Master  of  -the 
Rolls.  Formerly  the  twelve  judges  and  various 
other  persons  received  the  same  compliment.  Alas 
for  the  mutation  of  other  things  than  almanacs, 
however;  for  in  1850  the  Company's  barge,  being 
sold,  was  taken  to  Oxford,  where  it  may  still  be 
seen  on  the  Isis,  the  property  of  one  of  the  College 
boat  clubs.  At  the  upper  end  of  the  hall  is  a 
court  cupboard  or  buffet  for  the  display  of  the 
Company's  plate,  and  at  the  lower  end,  on  either 
side  of  the  doorway,  is  a  similar  recess.  The 
entrance-screen  of  the  hall,  guarded  by  allegorical 
figures,  and  crowned  by  the  royal  arms  (with  the 
inescutcheon  of  Nassau — William  III.),  is  richly 
adorned  with  carvings. 

Stationers'  Hall  was  in  1677  used  for  Divine 
service  by  the  parish  of  St.  Martin's,  Ludgate,  and 
towards  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century  an 
annual  musical  festival  was  instituted  on  the  22nd  of 
November,  in  commemoration  of  Saint  Cecilia,  and 
as  an  excuse  for  some  good  music.  A  splendid 
entertainment  was  provided  in  the  hall,  preceded 
by  a  grand  concert  of  vocal  and  instrumental 
music,  which  was  attended  by  people  of  the  first 
rank.  The  special  attraction  was  always  an  ode  to 
Saint  Cecilia,  set  by  Purcell,  Blow,  or  some  other 
eminent  composer  of  the  day.  Dryden's  and 
Pope's  odes  are  almost  too  well  known  to  need 
mention ;  but  Addison,  Yalden,  Shadwell,  and  even 
D'Urfey,  tried  their  hands  on  praises  of  the  same 
musical  saint. 

After  several  odes  by  the  mediocre  satirist, 
Oldham,  and  that  poor  verse-maker,  Nahum  Tate, 
who  scribbled  upon  King  David's  tomb,  came 
Dryden.  The  music  to  the  first  ode,  says  Scott, 
was  first  wTitten  by  Percival  Clarke,  who  killed 
himself  in  a  fit  of  lovers'  melancholy  in  1707.  It 
was  then  reset  by  Draghi,  the  Italian  composer, 
and  in  1 7 1 1  was  again  set  by  Clayton  for  one  of 
Sir  Richard  Steele's  public  concerts.  The  first  ode 
(1687)  contains  those  fine  lines  : — 

"  From  harmony,   rom  heavenly  harmony, 
This  universal  frame  began ; 
From  harmony  to  harmony, 
Through  all  the  compass  of  the  notes  it  ran, 
The  diapason  closing  full  in  man." 

Of  the  composition  of  this  ode,  for  which 
Dryden  received  ^40,  and  \vhicH  was  aft^pyards 


eclipsed  by  the  glories  of  its  successor,  the  follow- 
ing interesting  anecdote  is  told  : — 

"  Mr.  St.  John,  afterwards  Lord  Bolingbroke, 
happening  to  pay  a  morning  visit  to  Dryden, 
whom  he  always  respected,  found  him  in  an  un- 
usual agitation  of  spirits,  even  to  a  trembling.  On 
inquiring  the  cause,  '  I  have  been  up  all  night,' 
replied  the  old  bard.  *  My  musical  friends  made 
me  promise  to  write  them  an  ode  for  their  feast  of 
St.  Cecilia.  I  have  been  so  struck  with  the  subject 
which  occurred  to  me,  that  I  could  not  leave  it  till 
I  had  completed  it.  Here  it  is,  finished  at  one 
sitting.'  And  immediately  he  showed  him  the 
ode." 

Dryden's  second  ode,  "  Alexander's  Feast ;  or, 
the  Power  of  Music,"  was  Avritten  for  the  St. 
Cecilian  Feast  at  Stationers'  Hall  in  1697.  This 
ode  ends  with  those  fine  and  often-quoted  lines  on 
the  fair  saint : — 

"  Let  old  Timotheus  yield  the  prize, 

Or  both  divide  the  crown  ; 

He  raised  a  mortal  to  the  skies, 

She  drew  an  angel  down." 

Handel,  in  1736,  set  this  ode,  and  reproduced  it 
at  Covent  Garden,  with  deserved  success.  Not 
often  do  such  a  poet  and  such  a  musician  meet 
at  the  same  anvil.  The  great  German  also  set  the 
former  ode,  which  is  known  as  "  The  Ode  on 
St.  Cecilia's  Day."  Dryden  himself  told  Tonson 
that  he  thought  with  the  town  that  this  ode  was 
the  best  of  all  his  poetry ;  and  he  said  to  a  young 
flatterer  at  Will's,  with  honest  pride — "You  are 
right,  young  gentleman ;  a  nobler  never  was  pro- 
duced, nor  ever  will." 

Many  magnificent  funerals  have  been  marshalled 
in  the  Stationers'  Hall ;  it  has  also  been  used  for 
several  great  political  banquets.  In  September, 
1 83 1,  the  Reform  members  of  the  House  of 
Commons  gave  a  dinner  to  the  Chancellor  of  the 
Exchequer  (Lord  Althorp)  and  to  Lord  Johnf 
Russell — Mr.  Abercromby  (afterwards  Speaker) 
presiding.  In  May,  1842,  the  Duke  of  Wellington 
presided  over  a  dinner  for  the  Infant  Orphan 
Asylum,  and  in  June,  1847,  a  dinner  for  the  King's 
College  Hospital  was  given  under  Sir  Robert  Peel's 
presidency.  In  the  great  kitchen  below  the  hall, 
Mr.  Nichols,  who  is  an  honorary  member  of  the 
Company,  says  there  have  been  sometimes  seen  at 
the  same  time  as  many  as  eighteen  haunches  of 
venison,  besides  a  dozen  necks  and  other  joints ; 
for  these  companies  are  as  hospitable  as  they  are 
rich. 

The  funeral  feast  of  Thomas  Sutton,  of  the 
Charterhouse,  was  given  May  28th,  16 12,  in 
Statiopers'   Hall,   the    procession   having    started 


232 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


ILudgate  Hill. 


from  Doctor  Law's,  in  Paternoster  Row.  For  the 
repast  were  provided  "32  neats'  tongues,  40  stone 
of  beef,  24  marrow-bones,  r  lamb,  46  capons,  32 
geese,  4  pheasants,  12  pheasants'  pullets,  12  god- 
wits,  24  rabbits,  6  hearnshaws,  43  turkey-chickens, 
48  roast  chickens,  18  house  pigeons,  72  field 
pigeons,  36  quails,  48  ducklings,  160  eggs,  3 
salmon,  4  congers,  10  turbots,  2  dories,  24  lobsters, 
4  mullets,  a  firkin  and  keg  of  sturgeon,  3  barrels 
of  pickled  oysters,  6  gammon  of  bacon,  4  West- 
phalia gammons,  1 6  fried  tongues,  1 6  chicken  pies, 
16  pasties,  16  made  dishes  of  rice,  16  neats'-tongue 
pies,  16  custards,  16  dishes  of  bait,  16  mince  pies, 
16  orange  pies,  16  gooseberry  tarts,  8  redcare  pies, 
6  dishes  of  whitebait,  and  6  grand  salads." 

To  the  west  of  the  hall  is  the  handsome  court- 
room, where  the  meetings  of  the  Company  are 
held.  The  wainscoting,  &c.,  were  renewed  in  the 
year  1757,  and  an  octagonal  card-room  was  added 
by  Mr.  Mylne  in  1828.  On  the  opposite  side 
of  the  hall  is  the  stock-room,  adorned  by  beautiful 
carvings  of  the  school  of  Grinling  Gibbons.  Here 
the  commercial  committees  of  the  Company  usually 
meet. 

The  nine  painted  storeys  which  stood  in  the 
old  hall,  above  the  wainscot  in  the  council  parlour, 
probably  crackled  to  dust  in  the  Great  Fire,  which 
also  rolled  up  and  took  away  the  portraits  of  John 
Cawood,  printer  to  Philip  and  Mary,  and  his 
master,  John  Raynes.  This  same  John  Cawood 
seems  to  have  been  specially  munificent  in  his 
donations  to  the  Company,  for  he  gave  two  new 
stained-glass  windows  to  the  hall ;  also  a  hearse- 
cover,  of  cloth  and  gold,  powdered  with  blue  velvet 
and  bordered  with  black  velvet,  embroidered  and 
stained  with  blue,  yellow,  red,  and  green,  besides 
considerable  plate. 

The  Company's  curious  collection  of  plate  is 
carefully  described  by  Mr.  Nichols.  In  1581  it 
seems  every  master  on  quitting  the  chair  was 
required  to  give  a  piece  of  plate,  weighing  fourteen 
ounces  at  least ;  and  every  upper  or  under  warden 
a  piece  of  plate  of  at  least  three  ounces.  In  this 
accumulative  manner  the  Worshipful  Company  soon 
became  possessed  of  a  glittering  store  of  "  salts," 
gilt  bowls,  college  pots,  snuffers,  cups,  and  flagons. 
Their  greatest  trophy  seems  to  have  been  a  large 
silver-gilt  bowl,  given  in  1626  by  a  Mr.  Hulet 
(Owlett),  weighing  sixty  ounces,  and  shaped  like  an 
owl,  in  allusion  to  the  donor's  name.  In  the  early 
Civil  War,  when  the  Company  had  to  pledge  their 
plate  to  meet  the  heavy  loans  exacted  by  Charles 
the  Martyr  from  a  good  many  of  his  unfortunate 
subjects,  the  cherished  Owlett  was  specially  ex- 
cepted.     Among  other   memorials  in  the  posses- 


sion of  the  Company  was  a  silver  college  cup 
bought  in  memory  of  Mr.  John  Sweeting,  who,  dying 
in  1659  (the  year  before  the  Restoration),  founded 
by  ^\'ill  the  pleasant  annual  venison  dinner  of  the 
Company  in  August. 

It  is  supposed  that  all  the  great  cupboards  of 
plate  were  lost  in  the  fire  of  1666,  for  there  is  no 
piece  now  existing  (says  Mr.  Nichols)  of  an  earlier 
date  than  1676.  It  has  been  the  custom  also 
from  time  to  time  to  melt  down  obsolete  plate 
into  newer  forms  and  more  useful  vessels.  Thus 
salvers  and  salt-cellars  were  in  1720-21  turned  into 
monteaths,  or  bowls,  filled  with  water,  to  keep  the 
wine-glasses  cool  3  and  in  1844  ^  handsome  rose- 
water  dish  was  made  out  of  a  silver  bowl,  and  an 
old  tea-urn  and  coffee-urn.  This  custom  is  rather 
too  much  like  Saturn  devouring  his  own  children, 
and  has  led  to  the  destruction  of  many  curious  old 
relics.  The  massive  old  plate  now  remaining  is 
chiefly  of  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  High  among 
these  presents  tower  the  quaint  silver  candlesticks 
bequeathed  by  Mr.  Richard  Royston,  twice  Master 
of  the  Stationers'  Company,  who  died  in  1686,  and 
had  been  bookseller  to  three  kings — ^James  I., 
Charles  L,  and  Charles  II.  The  ponderous  snuffers 
and  snuffer-box  are  gone.  There  were  also  three 
other  pairs  of  candlesticks,  given  by  Mr.  Nathanael 
Cole,  who  had  been  clerk  of  the  Company,  at  his 
death  in  1760.  A  small  two-handled  cup  was 
bequeathed  in  177 1  by  that  worthy  old  printer, 
William  Bowyer,  as  a  memorial  of  the  Company's 
munificence  to  his  father  after  his  loss  by  fire  in 
1712-13. 

The  Stationers  are  very  charitable.  Their  funds 
spring  chiefly  from  ;^i,i5o  bequeathed  to  them 
by  Mr,  John  Norton,  the  printer  to  the  learned 
Queen  Elizabeth  in  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew, 
alderman  of  London  in  the  reign  of  James  I.,  and 
thrice  Master  of  this  Company.  The  money  laid 
out  by  Norton's  wish  in  the  purchase  of  estates 
in  fee-simple  in  Wood  Street  has  grown  and  grown. 
One  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  out  of  this  bequest 
the  old  printer  left  to  the  minister  and  church- 
wardens of  St.  Faith,  in  order  to  have  distributed 
weekly  to  twelve  poor  persons — six  appointed  by 
the  parish,  and  six  by  the  Stationers'  Company — 
twopence  each  and  a  penny  loaf,  the  vantage  loaf 
(the  thirteenth  allowed  by  the  baker)  to  be  tlie 
clerk's ;  ten  shillings  to  be  paid  for  an  annual 
sermon  on  Ash  Wednesday  at  St.  Faith's ;  the 
residue  to  be  laid  out  in  cakes,  wine,  and  ale  for 
the  Company  of  Stationers,  either  before  or  after 
the  sermon.  The  liverymen  still  (according  to  Mr. 
Nichols)  enjoy  this  annual  dole  of  well-spiced  and 
substantial  buns.     The  sum  of  ;^i,ooo  was  left  for 


LudgateHiu.]       PICTURES  POSSESSED  BY  THE  STATIONERS'  COMPANY. 


233 


the  generous  purpose  of  advancing  small  loans  to 
struggling  young  men  in  business.  In  1861,  how- 
ever, the  Company,  under  the  direction  of  the 
Court  of  Chancery,  devoted  the  sum  to  the  found- 
ing of  a  commercial  school  in  Bolt  Court,  for  the 
sons  of  liverymen  and  freemen  of  the  Company, 
and;!^8,5oo  were  spent  in  purchasing  Mr.  Bensley's 
premises  and  Dr.  Johnson's  old  house.  The 
doctor's  usual  sitting-room  is  now  occupied  by  the 
head  master.  The  school  itself  is  built  on  the  site 
formerly  occupied  by  Johnson's  garden.  The  boys 
pay  a  quarterage  not  exceeding  jQz.  The  school 
has  four  exhibitions. 

The  pictures  at  Stationers'  Hall  are  worthy  of 
mention.  In  the  stock-room  are  portraits,  after 
Kneller,  of  Prior  and  Steele,  which  formerly  be- 
longed to  Harley,  Earl  of  Oxford,  Swift's  great 
patron.  The  best  picture  in  the  room  is  a  portrait 
by  an  unknown  painter  of  Tycho  Wing,  the  astro- 
nomer, holding  a  celestial  globe.  Tycho  was  the 
son  of  Vincent  Wing,  the  first  author  of  the 
almanacks  still  published  under  his  name,  and  who 
died  in  1668.  There  are  also  portraits  of  that 
worthy  old  printer,  Samuel  Richardson  and  his 
wife ;  Archbishop  Tillotson,  by  Kneller ;  Bishop 
Hoadley,  prelate  of  the  Order  of  the  Garter ; 
Robert  Nelson,  the  author  of  the  "Fasts  and 
Festivals,"  who  died  in  17 14-15,  by  Kneller;  and 
one  of  William  Bowyer,  the  Whitefriars  printer, 
with  a  posthumous  bust  beneath  it  of  his  son,  the 
printer  of  the  votes  of  the  House  of  Commons. 
There  was  formerly  a  brass  plate  beneath  this  bust 
expressing  the  son's  gratitude  to  the  Company  for 
their  munificence  to  his  father  after  the  fire  which 
destroyed  his  printing-office. 

In  the  court-room  hangs  a  portrait  of  John 
Boydell,  who  was  Lord  Mayor  of  London  in 
the  year  1791.  This  picture,  by  Graham,  was 
formerly  surrounded  by  allegorical  figures  of  Jus- 
tice, Prudence,  Industry,  and  Commerce  \  but 
they  have  been  cut  out  to  reduce  the  canvas 
to  Kit-cat  size.  There  is  a  portrait,  by  Owen, 
of  Lord  Mayor  Domville,  Master  of  the  Stationers' 
Company,  in  the  actual  robe  he  wore  when  he  rode 
before  the  Prince  Regent  and  the  Allies  in  1814  to 
the  Guildhall  banquet  and  the  Peace  thanksgiving. 
In  the  card-room  is  an  early  picture,  by  West,  of 
King  Alfred  dividing  his  loaf  with  the  pilgrim — 
a  representation,  by  the  way,  of  a  purely  imaginary 
occurrence — in  fact,  the  old  legend  is  that  it 
was  really  St.  Cuthbert  who  executed  this  gene- 
rous partition.  There  are  also  portraits  of  the 
two  Strahans,  Masters  in  1774  and  1816;  one  of 
Alderman  Cadell,  Master  in  1798,  by  Sir  William 
Beechey  ;  and  one  of  John  NichoUs,  Master  of  the 


Company  in  1804,  after  a  portrait  by  Jackson.  In 
the  hall,  over  the  gallery,  is  a  picture,  by  Graham, 
of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  escaping  from  the  Castle 
of  Lochleven.  It  was  engraved  by  Dawe,  after- 
wards a  Royal  Academician,  when  he  was  only 
fourteen  years  of  age. 

The  arms  of  the  Company  appear  from  a  Herald 
visitation  of  1634  to  have  been  azure  on  a  chevron, 
an  eagle  volant,  with  a  diadem  between  two  red 
roses,  with  leaves  vert,  between  three  books  clasped 
gold ;   in   chief,  issuing   out  of  a  cloud,  the  sun- 
beams gold,  a  holy  spirit,  the  wings  displayed  silver, 
with  a  diadem  gold.     In  later  times  the  books  have 
been  blazoned  as  Bibles.      In  a  "  tricking  "  in  the 
volume  before  mentioned,  in  the  College  of  Arms, 
St.  John  the  Evangelist  stands  behind  the  shield 
in  the  attitude  of  benediction,  and  bearing  in  his 
left  hand  a    cross   with  a   serpent   rising  from  it 
(much  more   suitable    for    the   scriveners   or  law 
writers,  by  the  bye).      On  one  side  of  the  shield 
stands  the  Evangelist's  emblematic  eagle,  holding  an 
inkhom  in    his  beak.      The   Company  never   re- 
ceived any  grant  of  arms  or  supporters,  but  about 
the  year  1790  two  angels  seem  to  have  been  used 
as  supporters.     About  1788  the  motto  "Verbum 
Domini  manet  in  eternum  "  (The  word  of  the  Lord 
endureth  for  ever)  began  to  be  adopted,  and  in  the 
same  year  the  crest  of  an  eagle  was   used.      On 
the  silver  badge  of  the  Company's  porter  the  sup- 
porters are  naked  winged  boys,  and  the  eagle  on 
the  chevron  is  turned  into  a  dove  holding  an  olive- 
branch.     Some  of  the  buildings  of  the  present  hall 
are  still  let  to  Paternoster  Row  booksellers  as  ware- 
houses. 

The  list  of  masters  of  this  Company  includes 
Sir  John  Key,  Bart.  ("  Don  Key"),  Lord  Mayor  in 
1 831-183  2.  In  17 12  Thomas  Parkhurst,  who  had 
been  Master  of  the  Worshipful  Company  in  1683, 
left  ^37  to  purchase  Bibles  and  Psalters,  to  be 
annually  given  to  the  poor  ;  hence  the  old  custom 
of  giving  Bibles  to  apprentices  bound  at  Stationers' 
Hall. 

This  is  the  first  of  the  many  City  companies  of 
which  we  shall  have  by  turns  to  make  mention 
m  the  course  of  this  work.  Though  no  longer 
useful  as  a  guild  to  protect  a  trade  which  now 
needs  no  fostering,  we  have  seen  that  it  still  retains 
some  of  its  mediaeval  virtues.  It  is  hospitable  and 
charitable  as  ever,  if  not  so  given  to  grand  funeral 
services  and  ecclesiastical  ceremonials.  Its  pri- 
vileges have  grown  out  of  date  and  obsolete,  but 
they  harm  no  one  but  authors,  and  to  the  wrongs 
of  authors  both  Governments  and  Parliaments  have 
been  from  time  immemorial  systematically  in- 
different. 


234 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[St.   Paul's. 


OLD  ST.  Paul's,  from  a  view  by  hollar. 


CHAPTER      XX. 
sr.   PAUL'S. 

London's  chief  Sanct-uary  of  Religion— The  Site  of  St.  Paul's — The  Earliest  auilienticated  Church  there— The  Shrine  of  Erkenwald— St.  Paul'  ■ 
Burnt  and  Rebuilt — It  becomes  the  .Scene  of  a  Strange  Incident— -Important  Political  Meeting  within  its  Walls — The  Great  Charter  pub- 
lished there — St.  Paul's  and  Papal  Power  in  England — Turmoils  around  the  Gnind  Cathedral — Relics  and  Chantry  Chapels  in  St.  Paul'.^ — 
Royal  Visits  to  .'^t.  Paul's— Richard,  Buke  of  York,  and  Henry  VI.-  A  Fruitless  RecouciHation — Jane  Shore's  Penance— A  Tragedy  of  the 
Lollards'  Tower — A  Royal  Marriage — Henry  VIII.  and  Cardinal  Wolscy  at  St.  Paul's — "  Peter  of  Westminster  "—A  Bonfire  of  Bibles-'I'he 
Cathedral  Clergy  Fined — A  Miraculous  Rood — St.  Paul's  under  Edward  VI.  and  Bi.shop  Ridley — A  Protestant  Tumult  at  Paul's  Cross  - 
Strange  Ceremonials — Queen  Elizabeth's  Miuiificence — The  Burning  of  the  Spire — Desecration  of  the  Nave — Elizabeth  and  Dean  Nowell — 
Thanksgiving  for  the  Armada — The  "Children  of  Paul's" -Government  Lotteriej — E.xeculions  in  the  Churchyard — Inigo  Jones's 
Re.>-torations  and  the  Puritan  Parliament — The  Great  Fire  of  1666— Burning  of  Old  St.  Paul's,  and  Destruction  of  its  Monuments— Evelyn's 
Description  of  the  Fire — Sir  Christopher  Wren  called  in. 


Stooping  under  the  flat  iron  bar  that  lies  Hke  a 
bone  in  the  mouth  of  Ludgate  Hill,  we  pass  up 
the  gentle  ascent  between  shops  hung  with  gold 
chains,  brimming  with  wealth,  or  crowded  with  all 
the  luxuries  that  civilisation  has  turned  into  neces- 
sities ;  and  once  past  the  impertinent  black  spire  of 
St.  Martin's,  we  come  full-butt  upon  the  great  grey 
dome.  The  finest  building  in  London,  with  the 
worst  approach ;  the  shrine  of  heroes ;  the  model 
of  grace ;  the  chef-d'oeuvre  of  a  great  genius,  rises 


before  us,  and  between  its  sable  Corinthian  pillars 
we  have  now  to  thread  our  way  in  search  of  the 
old  legends  of  St.  Paul's. 

The  old  associations  rise  around  us  as  we  pass 
across  the  paved  area  that  surrounds  Queen  Anne's 
mean  and  sooty  statue.  From  the  times  of  the 
Saxons  to  the  present  day,  London's  chief  sanctuary 
of  religion  has  stood  here  above  the  river,  a  land- 
mark to  the  ships  of  all  nations  that  have  floated 
on  the  welcoming  waters  of  the  Thames.     That 


St.  Paul's.] 


THE  SITE   OF  ST.    PAUL'S. 


235 


great  dome,  circled  with  its  coronet  of  gold,  is  the 
first  object  the  pilgrim  traveller  sees,  whether  he 
approach  by  river  or  by  land ;  the  sparkle  of  that 
golden  cross  is  seen  from  many  a  distant  hill  and 
plain.  St.  Paul's  is  the  central  object — the  very 
palladium — of  modern  London. 


of  London  from  two  Welsh  words,  "  Llan-den  " — 
church  of  Diana.  Dugdale,  to  confirm  these  tra- 
ditions, drags  a  legend  out  of  an  obscure  monkish 
chronicle,  to  the  effect  that  during  the  Diocletian 
persecution,  in  which  St.  Alban,  a  centurion,  was 
martyred,  the  Romans  demolished  a  church  stand- 


oLu  ST.  Paul's.— THE  interior,  looking  east. 


Camden,  the  Elizabethan  historian,  revived  an 
old  tradition  that  a  Roman  temple  to  Diana  once 
stood  where  St.  Paul's  was  afterwards  built ;  and 
he  asserts  that  in  the  reign  of  Edward  III.  an  in- 
credible quantity  of  ox-skulls,  stag-horns,  and  boars' 
tusks,  together  with  some  sacrificial  vessels,  were 
exhumed  on  this  site.  Selden,  a  better  Orientalist 
than  Celtic  scholar  (Charles  I.),  derived  the  name 


ing  on  the  site  of  St.  Paul's,  and  raised  a  temple  to 
Diana  on  its  ruins,  while  in  Thorny  Island,  West- 
minster, St.  Peter,  in  the  like  manner,  gave  way 
to  Apollo.  These  myths  are,  however,  more  than 
doubtful. 

Sir  Christopher  Wren's  excavations  for  the 
foundation  of  modern  St.  Paul's  entirely  refuted 
these  confused  stories,  to  which  the  learned  and 


236 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


LSt.  Paul's.^ 


the  credulous  had  paid  too  much  deference.  He 
dug  down  to  the  river-level,  and  found  neither  ox- 
bone  nor  stag-horn.  What  he  did  find,  however, 
was  curious.  It  was  this  : — i.  Below  the  mediaeval 
graves  Saxon  stone  coffins  and  Saxon  tombs,  lined 
with  slabs  of  chalk.  2.  Lower  still,  British  graves, 
and  in  the  earth  around  the  ivory  and  box-wood 
skewers  that  had  fastened  the  Saxons'  woollen 
shrouds.  3.  'At  the  same  level  with  the  Saxon 
graves,  and  also  deeper,  Roman  funeral  urns. 
These  were  discovered  as  deep  as  eighteen  feet. 
Roman  lamps,  tear  vessels,  and  fragments  of 
sacrificial  vessels  of  Samian  ware  were  met  with 
chiefly  towards  the  Chcapside  corner  of  the  church- 
yard. 

There  had  evidently  been  a  Roman  cemetery  out- 
side this  Praetorian  camp,  and  beyond  the  ancient 
walls  of  London,  the  wise  nation,  by  the  laws  of  the 
Twelve  Tables,  forbidding  the  interment  of  the  dead 
within  the  walls  of  a  city.  There  may  have  been 
a  British  or  a  Saxon  temple  here ;  for  the  Church 
tried  hard  to  conquer  and  consecrate  places  where 
idolatry  had  once  triumphed.  But  the  Temple  of 
Diana  was  moonshine  from  the  beginning,  and  moon- 
shine it  will  ever  remain.  The  antiquaries  were, 
however,  angry  with  Wren  for  the  logical  refutation 
of  their  belief.  Dr.  Woodward  (the  "Martinus 
Scriblerus"  of  Pope  and  his  set)  was  especially 
vehement  at  the  slaying  of  his  hobby,  and  produced 
a  small  brass  votive  image  of  Diana,  that  had  been 
found  between  the  Deanery  and  Blackfriars.  Wren, 
who  could  be  contemptuous,  disdained  a  reply,  and 
so  the  matter  remained  till  1830,  when  the  discovery 
of  a  rude  stone  altar,  with  an  image  of  Diana, 
under  the  foundation  of  the  new  Goldsmith's  Hall, 
Foster  Lane,  Cheapside,  revived  the  old  dispute,  yet 
did  not  help  a  whit  to  prove  the  existence  of  the 
supposed  temple  to  the  goddess  of  moonshine. 

The  earliest  authenticated  church  of  St.  Paul's 
was  built  and  endowed  by  Ethelbert,  King  of  East 
Kent,  with  the  sanction  of  Sebert,  King  of  the 
East  Angles;  and  the  first  bishop  ^ho  preached 
within  its  walls  was  Mellitus,  the  companion  of 
St.  Augustine,  the  first  Christian  missionary  who 
visited  the  heathen  Saxons.  The  visit  of  St.  Paul 
to  England  in  the  time  of  Boadicea's  war,  and  that 
of  Joseph  of  Arimathea,  are  mere  monkish  legends. 
The  Londoners  again  became  pagan,  and  for 
thirty-eight  years  there  was  no  bishop  at  St. 
Paul's,  till  a  brother  of  St.  Chad  of  Lichfield 
came  and  set  his  foot  on  the  images  of  Thor  and 
Wodin.  With  the  fourth  successor  of  Mellitus, 
Saint  Erkenwald,  wealth  and  splendour  returned 
to  St.  Paul's.  This  zealous  man  worked  miracles 
botli  before  and  after  his  death.     He  used  to  be  | 


driven  about  in  a  cart,  and  one  legend  says  that  he 
often  preached  to  the  woodmen  in  the  wild  forests 
that  lay  to  the  north  of  London.  On  a  certain  day 
one  of  the  cart-wheels  came  off  in  a  slough.  The 
worthy  confessor  was  in  a  dilemma.  The  congre- 
gation under  the  oaks  might  have  waited  for  ever, 
but  the  one  wheel  left  was  equal  to  the  occasion, 
for  it  suddenly  grew  invested  with  special  powers  of 
balancing,  and  went  on  as  steadily  as  a  velocipede 
with  the  smiling  saint.  This  was  pretty  well,  but 
still  nothing  to  what  happened  after  the  good  man's 
death. 

St.  Erkenwald  departed  at  last  in  the  odour  of 
sanctity  at  his  sister's  convent  at  Barking.  Eager  to 
get  hold  of  so  valuable  a  body,  the  Chertsey  monks 
instantly  made  a  dash  for  it,  pursued  by  the  equally 
eager  clergy  of  St.  Paul's,  who  were  fully  alive  to 
the  value  of  their  dead  bishop,  whose  shrine  would 
become  a  money-box  for  pilgrim's  offerings.  The 
London  priests,  by  a  forced  march,  got  first  to 
Barking  and  bore  off  the  body ;  but  the  monks  of 
Chertsey  and  the  nuns  of  Barking  followed,  -wringing 
their  hands  and  loudly  protesting  against  the  theft. 
The  river  Lea,  sympathising  with  their  prayers,  roSe 
in  a  flood.  There  was  no  boat,  no  bridge,  and  a 
fight  for  the  body  seemed  imminent.  A  pious  man 
present,  however,  exhorted  the  monks  to  peace, 
and  begged  them  to  leave  the  matter  to  heavenly 
decision.  The  clergy  of  St.  Paul's  then  broke  forth 
into  a  litany.  The  Lea  at  once  subsided,  the 
cavalcade  crossed  at  Stratford,  the  sun  cast  down 
its  benediction,  and  the  clergy  passed  on  to  St. 
Paul's  with  their  holy  spoil.  From  that  time  the 
shrine  of  Erkenwald  became  a  source  of  wealth  and 
power  to  the  cathedral. 

The  Saxon  kings,  according  to  Dean  Milman, 
were  munificent  to  St.  Paul's.  The  clergy  claimed 
Tillingham,  in  Essex,  as  a  grant  from  King  Ethel- 
bert,  and  that  place  still  contributes  to  the  mainte- 
nance of  the  cathedral.  The  charters  of  Athel- 
stane  are  questionable,  but  the  places  mentioned  in 
them  certainly  belonged  to  St.  Paul's  till  the  Eccle- 
siastical Commissioners  broke  in  upon  that  wealth ; 
and  the  charter  of  Canute,  still  preserved,  and  no 
doubt  authentic,  ratifies  the  donations  of  his  Saxon 
predecessors. 

William  the  Conqueror's  Norman  Bishop  of 
London  was  a  good,  peace-loving  man,  who  inter- 
ceded with  the  stern  monarch,  and  recovered  the 
forfeited  privileges  of  the  refractory  London  citizens. 
For  centuries — indeed,  even  up  to  the  end  of 
Queen  Mary's  reign — the  mayor,  aldermen,  and 
crafts  used  to  make  an  annual  procession  to  St. 
Paul's,  to  visit  the  tomb  of  good  Bishop  William 
in  the  nave.      In  1622  the  Lord  Mayor,  Edward 


St.  Paul's.] 


ST.    PAUL'S   BURNT  AND   REBUILT. 


237 


Barkham,  caused  these  quaint  lines  to  be  carved 
on  the  bishop's  tomb  : — 

"  Walkers,  whosoe'er  ye  bee, 
If  it  prove  you  chance  to  see, 
Upon  a  solemn  scarlet  day, 
The  City  senate  pass  this  way, 
Their  grateful  memory  for  to  show, 
Which  they  the  reverent  ashes  owe 
Of  Bishop  Norman  Here  inhumed, 
By  whom  this  city  has  assumed 
Large  privileges  ;  those  obtained 
By  him  when  Conqueror  William  reigned. 
This  being  by  Barkham's  thankful  mind  renewed, 
Call  it  the  monument  of  gratitude. " 

The  ruthless  Conqueror  granted  valuable  privi- 
leges to  St.  Paul's.  He  freed  the  church  from  the 
payment  of  Danegeld,  and  all  services  to  the  Crown. 
His  words  (if  they  are  authentic)  are — "  Some 
lands  I  give  to  God  and  the  church  of  St.  Paul's, 
in  London,  and  special  franchises,  because  I  wish 
that  this  church  may  be  free  in  all  things,  as  I  wish 
my  soul  to  be  on  the  day  of  judgment."  In  this 
same  reign  tlie  Primate  Lanfranc  held  a  great 
council  at  St.  Paul's — a  council  which  Milman 
calls  "the  first  full  Ecclesiastical  Parliament  of 
P^ngland."  Twelve  years  after  (1087),  the  year 
the  Conqueror  died,  fire,  that  persistent  enemy 
of  St.  Paul's,  almost  entirely  consumed  the 
cathedral. 

Bishop  Maurice  set  to  work  to  erect  a  more 
splendid  building,  with  a  vast  crypt,  in  which  the 
valuable  remains  of  St.  Erkenwald  were  enshrined. 
William  of  Malmesbury  ranked  it  among  the  great 
buildings  of  his  time.  One  of  the  last  acts  of  the 
Conqueror  was  to  give  the  stone  of  a  Palatine 
tower  (on  the  subsequent  site  of  Blackfriars)  for  the 
building.  The  next  bishop,  De  Balmeis,  is  said 
to  have  devoted  the  whole  of  his  revenues  for 
twenty  years  to  this  pious  work.  Fierce  Rufus — 
no  friend  of  monks — did  little  ;  but  the  milder 
monarch,  Henry  I.,  granted  exemption  of  toll  to 
all  vessels,  laden  with  stone  for  St.  Paul's,  that 
entered  the  Fleet. 

To  enlarge  the  area  of  the  church.  King  Henry 
gave  part  of  the  Palatine  Tower  estate,  which  was 
turned  into  a  churchyard  and  encircled  with  a  wall, 
wliich  ran  along  Carter  Lane  to  Creed  Lane,  and 
was  freed  of  l)uildings.  The  bishop,  on  his  part, 
contributed  to  the  service  of  the  altar  the  rents  of 
Paul's  Wharf,  and  for  a  school  gave  the  house  of 
Durandus,  at  the  comer  of  Bell  Court.  On  the 
bishop's  death,  the  Crown  seized  his  wealth,  and 
the  bishop's  boots  were  carried  to  the  Excliequer 
full  of  gold  and  silver.  St.  Bernard,  however, 
praises  him,  and  says  :  "  It  was  not  wonderful  that 
Master  Gilbert  should  be  a  bishop ;  but  that  the 


Bishop  of  London  should  live  like  a  poor  man, 
that  was  magnificent." 

In  the  reign  of  Stephen  a  dreadful  fire  broke  out 
and  raged  from  London  Bridge  to  St.  Clement 
Dqnes.  In  this  fire  St.  Paul's  was  partially 
destroyed.  The  Bishop,  in  his  appeals  for  contri-. 
butions  to  the  church,  plej^ded  that  this  was  the 
only  London  church  specially  dedicated  to  St, 
Paul,  The  citizens  of  London  were  staunch  advo- 
cates of  King  Stephen  against  the  Empress  Maud, 
and  at  their  folkmote,  held  at  the  Cheapside  end 
of  St.  Paul's,  claimed  the  privilege  of  naming  a 
monarch. 

In  the  reign  of  Henry  II.  St.  Paul's  was  the 
scene  of  a  strange  incident  connected  with  the 
quarrel  between  the  King  and  that  ambitious 
Churchman,  the  Primate  Becket.  Gilbert  Foliot, 
the  learned  and  austere  Bishop  of  London,  had 
sided  with  the  King  and  provoked  the  bitter  hatred 
of  Becket.  During  the  celebration  of  mass  a 
daring  emissary  of  Becket  had  the  boldness  to 
thrust  a  roll,  bearing  the  dreaded  sentence  of 
excommunication  against  Foliot,  into  the  hands 
of  the  officiating  priest,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
cry  aloud — "  Know  all  men  that  Gilbert,  Bishop 
of  London,  is  excommunicated  by  Thomas,  Arch- 
bishop pf  Canterbury ! "  Foliot  for  a  time  defied 
the  interdict,  but  at  last  bowed  to  his  enemy's 
authority,  and  refrained  from  entering  the  Church 
of  St.  Paul's. 

The  reign  of  Richard  I.  was  an  eventful  one  to 
St.  Paul's.  In  1 191,  when  Coeur  de  Lion  was  in 
Palestine,  Prince  John  and  all  the  bishops  met  in 
the  nave  of  St.  Paul's  to  arraign  William  de  Long- 
champ,  one  of  the  King's  regents,  of  many  acts  of 
tyranny.  In  the  reign  of  their  absentee  monarch 
the  Londoners  grew  mutinous,  and  their  leader, 
William  Fitzosbert,  or  Longbeard,  denounced  their 
oppressors  from  Paul's  Cross.  These  disturbances 
ended  in  the  siege  of  Bow  Church,  where  Fitz- 
osbert had  fortified  himself,  and  by  the  burning 
alive  of  him  and  other  ringleaders.  It  was  at  this 
period  that  Dean  Radulph  de  Diceto,  a  monkish 
chronicler  of  learning,  built  the  Deanery,  "  inha- 
bited," says  Milman,  "  after  him,  by  many  men  of 
letters ;"  before  the  Reformation,  by  the  admirable 
Colet;  after  the  Reformation  by  Alexander  Nowell, 
Donne,  Sancroft  (who  rebuilt  the  mansion  after  the 
Great  Fire),  Stillingfleet,  Tillotson,  W.  Sherlock, 
Butler,  Seeker,  Newton,  Van  Mildert,  Copleston, 
and  Milman. 

St.  Paul's  was  also  the  scene  of  one  of  those  great 
meetings  of  prelates,  abbots,  deans,  priors,  and 
barons  that  finally  led  to  King  John's  concession 
of  Magna  Charta.     On  this  solemn  occasion — so 


238 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[St.  Paul's. 


important  for  the  progress  of  England — the  Primate 
Langton  displayed  the  old  charter  of  Henry  I.  to 
the  chief  barons,  and  made  them  sacredly  pledge 
themselves  to  stand  up  for  Magna  Charta  and  the 
liberties  of  England. 

One  of  the  first  acts  of  King  Henry  IH.  was 
to  hold  a  council  in  St.  Paul's,  and  there  publish 
the  Great  Charter.  Twelve  years  after,  when  a 
Papal  Legate  enthroned  himself  in  St.  Paul's,  he 
was  there  openly  resisted  by  Cantelupe,  Bishop  of 
Worcester. 

Papal  power  in  this  reign  attained  its  greatest 
height  in  England.  On  the  death  of  Bishop  Roger, 
an  opponent  of  these  inroads,  the  King  gave  orders 
that  out  of  the  episcopal  revenue  1,500  poor 
should  be  feasted  on  the  day  of  the  conversion  of 
St.  Paul,  and  1,500  lights  offered  in  the  church. 
The  country  was  filled  \vith  Italian  prelates.  An 
Italian  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  coming  to  St. 
Paul's,  with  a  cuirass  under  his  robes,  to  demand 
first-fruits  from  the  Bishop,  found  the  doors  closed 
in  his  face  ;  and  two  canons  of  the  Papal  party, 
endeavouring  to  install  themselves  at  St.  Paul's, 
were  in  1259  killed  by  the  angry  populace. 

In  the  reign  of  this  weak  king  several  folkmotes 
of  the  London  citizens  were  held  at  Paul's  Cross, 
in  the  churchyard.  On  one  occasion  the  king 
himself,  and  his  brother,  the  King  of  Almayne, 
were  present  All  citizens,  even  to  the  age  of 
twelve,  were  sworn  to  allegiance,  for  a  great  out- 
break for  liberty  was  then  imminent.  The  inventory 
of  the  goods  of  Bishop  Richard  de  Gravesend, 
Bishop  of  London  for  twenty-five  years  of  this 
reign,  is  still  preserved  in  the  archives  of  St. 
Paul's.  It  is  a  roll  twenty-eight  feet  long.  The 
value  of  the  whole  property  was  nearly  ;^3,ooo, 
and  this  sum  (says  Milman)  must  be  multiplied  by 
about  fifteen  to  bring  it  to  its  present  value. 

When  the  citizens  of  London  justly  ranged 
themselves  on  the  side  of  Simon  de  Montfort,  who 
stood  up  for  their  liberties,  the  great  bell  of  St. 
Paul's  was  the  tocsin  that  summoned  the  burghers 
to  arms,  especially  on  that  memorable  occasion 
when  Queen  Eleanor  tried  to  escape  by  water  from 
the  Tower  to  Windsor,  where  her  husband  was, 
and  the  people  who  detested  her  tried  to  sink  her 
barge  as  it  passed  London  Bridge. 

In  the  equally  troublous  reign  of  Edward  II. 
St.  Paul's  was  again  splashed  with  blood.  The 
citizens,  detesting  the  king's  foreign  favourites,  rose 
against  the  Bishop  of  Exeter,  Edward's  regent  in 
London.  A  letter  from  the  queen,  appealing  to 
them,  was  affixed  to  the  cross  in  Cheapside.  The 
bishop  demanded  the  City  keys  of  the  Lord 
Mayor,  and  the  people  sprang  to  arras,  with  cri^g 


of  "  Death  to  the  queen's  enemies  ! "  They  cut 
off  the  head  of  a  servant  of  the  De  Spensers,  burst 
open  the  gates  of  the  Bishop  of  Exeter's  palace 
(Essex  Street,  Strand),  and  plundered,  sacked, 
and  destroyed  everything.  The  bishop,  at  the 
time  riding  in  the  Islington  fields,  hearing  the 
danger,  dashed  home,  and  made  straight  for 
sanctuary  in  St.  Paul's.  At  the  north  door,  how- 
ever, the  mob  thickening,  tore  him  from  his  horse, 
and,  hurrying  him  into  Cheapside,  proclaimed 
him  a  traitor,  and  beheaded  him  there,  with  two 
of  his  servants.  They  then  dragged  his  body 
back  to  his  palace,  and  flung  the  corpse  into  the 
river. 

In  the  inglorious  close  of  the  glorious  reign  of 
Edward  III.,  Courtenay,  Bishop  of  London,  an 
inflexible  prelate,  did  his  best  to  induce  some  of 
the  London  rabble  to  plunder  the  Florentines,  at 
that  time  the  great  bankers  and  money-lenders  of 
the  metropolis,  by  reading  at  Paul's  Cross  the 
interdict  Gregory  XL  had  launched  against  them ; 
but  on  this  occasion  the  Lord  Mayor,  leading  the 
principal  Florentine  merchants  into  the  presence 
of  the  aged  king,  obtained  the  royal  protection  for 
them.  •  •    '.  u;^,. 

Wycliffe  and  his  adherents  (amongst  whom 
figured  John  of  Gaunt — "  old  John  of  Gaunt, 
time  -  honoured  Lancaster  "  —  Chaucer's  patron) 
soon  brewed  more  trouble  in  St.  Paul's  for  the 
proud  bishop.  The  great  reformer  being  sum- 
moned to  an  ecclesiastical  council  at  St.  Paul's, 
was  accompanied  by  his  friends,  John  of  Gaunt 
and  the  Earl  Marshal,  Lord  Percy.  When  in  the 
lady  chapel  Percy  demanded  a  soft  seat  for 
Wycliffe.  The  bishop  said  it  was  law  and  reason 
that  a  cited  man  should  stand  before  the  ordinary. 
Angry  words  ensued,  and  the  Duke  of  Lancaster 
taunted  Courtenay  with  his  pride.  The  bishop 
answered,  "  I  trust  not  in  man,  but  in  God  alone, 
who  will  give  me  boldness  to  speak  the  truth." 
A  rumour  was  spread  that  John  of  Gaunt  had 
threatened  to  drag  the  bishop  out  of  the  church 
by  the  hair,  and  that  he  had  vowed  to  abolish 
the  title  of  Lord  Mayor.  A  tumult  began.  All 
through  the  City  the  billmen  and  bowmen  gathered. 
The  Savoy,  John  of  Gaunt's  palace,  would  have 
been  burned  but  for  the  intercession  of  the  bishop. 
A  priest  mistaken  for  Percy  was  murdered.  The 
duke  fled  to  Kensington,  and  joined  the  Princess 
of  Wales. 

Richard  II.,  that  dissolute,  rash,  and  unfortunate 
monarch,  once  only  (alive)  came  to  St.  Paul's  in 
great  pomp,  his  robes  hung  with  bells,  and  after- 
wards feasted  at  the  house  of  his  favourite.  Sir 
Nicholas  Brember,  who  was  eventually  put  to  death. 


St.  Paul's.] 


THE  CATHEDRAL  STRUCTURE. 


239 


The  Lollards  were  now  making  way,  and  Arch- 
bishop Courtenay  had  a  great  barefooted  proces- 
sion to  St.  Paul's  to  hear  a  famous  Carmelite 
preacher  inveigh  against  the  WyclifFe  doctrines. 
A  Lollard,  indeed,  had  the  courage  to  nail  to  the 
doors  of  St.  Paul's  twelve  articles  of  the  new  creed 
denouncing  the  mischievous  celibacy  of  the  clergy, 
transubstantiation,  prayers  for  the  dead,  pilgrim- 
ages, and  other  mistaken  and  idolatrous  usages. 
When  Henry  Bohngbroke  (not  yet  crowned  Henry 
IV.)  came  to  St.  Paul's  to  offer  prayer  for  the 
dethronement  of  his  ill-fated  cousin,  Richard,  he 
paused  at  the  north  side  of  the  altar  to  shed  tears 
over  the  grave  of  his  father,  John  of  Gaunt, 
interred  early  that  very  year  in  the  Cathedral. 
Not  long  after  the  shrunken  body  of  the  dead 
king,  on  its  way  to  the  Abbey,  was  exposed  in 
St.  Paul's,  to  prove  to  the  populace  that  Richard 
was  not  still  alive.  Hardynge,  in  his  chronicles 
(quoted  by  Milman),  says  that  the  usurping  king 
and  his  nobles  spread — some  seven,  some  nine — 
cloths  of  gold  on  the  bier  of  the  murdered  king. 

Bishop  Braybroke,  in  the  reign  of  Edward  IV,, 
was  strenuous  in  denouncing  ecclesiastical  abuses. 
Edward  III.  himself  had  denounced  the  resort  of 
mechanics  to  the  refectory,  the  personal  vices  of 
the  priests,  and  the  pilfering  of  sacred  vessels.  He 
restored  the  communion-table,  and  insisted  on  daily 
alms-giving.  But  Braybroke  also  condemned  worse 
abuses.  He  issued  a  prohibition  at  Paul's  Cross 
against  barbers  shaving  on  Sundays ;  he  forbade 
the  buying  and  selling  in  the  Cathedral,  the 
flinging  stones  and  shooting  arrows  at  the  pigeons 
and  jackdaws  nestling  in  the  walls  of  the  church, 
and  the  playing  at  ball,  both  within  and  without 
the  church,  a  practice  which  led  to  the  breaking  of 
many  beautiful  and  costly  painted  windows. 

But  here  we  stop  awhile  in  our  history  of  St. 
Paul's,  on  the  eve  of  the  sanguinary  wars  of 
the  Roses,  to  describe  mediaeval  St.  Paul's,  its 
structure,  and  internal  government.  Foremost 
among  the  relics  were  two  arms  of  St.  Mellitus 
(miraculously  enough,  of  quite  different  sizes). 
Behind  the  high  altar — what  Dean  Milman  justly 
calls  "  the  pride,  glory,  and  fountain  of  wealth  "  to 
St.  Paul's — was  the  body  of  St.  Erkenwald,  covered 
with  a  shrine  which  three  London  goldsmiths  had 
spent  a  whole  year  in  chiselling ;  and  this  shrine  was 
covered  with  a  grate  of  tinned  iron.  The  very  dust 
of  the  chapel  floor,  mingled  with  water,  was  said  to 
work  instantaneous  cures.  On  the  anniversary  of  S  t. 
Erkenwald  the  whole  clergy  of  the  diocese  attended 
in  procession  in  their  copes.  When  King  John 
of  France  was  made  captive  at  Poictiers,  and  paid 
his  orisons  at  St.  Paul's,  he  presented  four  golden 


basins  to  the  high  altar,  and  twenty-tv^'O  nobles 
at  the  shrine  of  St.  Erkenwald.  Milman  calculates 
that  in  1344  the  oblation-box  alone  at  St.  Paul's 
produced  an  annual  sum  to  the  dean  and  chapter 
of  ;!^9,ooo.  Among  other  relics  that  were  milch 
cows  to  the  monks  were  a.  knife  of  our  Lord,' 
some  hair  of  Mary  Magdalen,  blood  of  St.  Paul, 
milk  of  the  Virgin,  the  hand  of  St.  John,  pieces 
of  the  mischievous  skull  of  Thomas  k  Becket, 
and  the  head  and  jaw  of  King  Ethelbert.  These 
were  all  preserved  in  jewelled  cases.  One  hun- 
dred and  eleven  anniversary  masses  were  cele- 
brated. The  chantry  chapels  in  the  Cathedral 
were  very  numerous,  and  they  were  served  by  an 
army  of  idle  and  often  dissolute  mass  priests. 
There  was  one  chantry  in  Pardon  Churchyard,  on 
the  north  side  of  St.  Paul's,  east  of  the  bishop's 
chapel,  where  St.  Thomas  Becket's  ancestors  were 
buried.  The  grandest  was  one  near  the  nave, 
built  by  Bishop  Kemp,  to  pray  for  himself  and 
his  royal  master,  Edward  IV.  Another  was 
founded  by  Henry  IV.  for  the  souls  of  his  father, 
John  of  Gaunt,  and  his  mother,  Blanche  of  Castile. 
A  third  was  built  by  Lord  Mayor  Pulteney,  who 
was  buried  in  St.  Lawrence  Pulteney,  so  called 
from  him.  The  revenues  of  these  chantries  were 
vast. 

But  to  return  to  our  historical  sequence.  During 
the  ruthless  Wars  of  the  Roses  St.  Paul's  became 
the  scene  of  many  curious  ceremonials,  on  which 
Shakespeare  himself  has  touched,  in  his  early  his- 
torical plays.  It  was  on  a  platform  at  the  cathedral 
door  that  Roger  Bolingbroke,  the  spurious  necro- 
mancer who  was  supposed  to  have  aided  the  am- 
bitious designs  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Glou- 
cester, was  exhibited.  The  Duchess's  penance  for 
the  same  offence,  according  to  Milman's  opinion, 
commenced  or  closed  near  the  cathedral,  in  that 
shameful  journey  when  she  was  led  through  the 
streets  wrapped  in  a  sheet,  and  carrying  a  lighted 
taper  in  her  hand.  The  duke,  her  husband,  was 
eventually  buried  at  St.  Paul's,  where  his  tomb 
became  the  haunt  of  needy  men  about  town, 
whence  the  well-known  proverb  of  "dining  with 
Duke  Humphrey." 

Henry  VI.'s  first  peaceful  visit  to  St.  Paul's  is 
quaintly  sketched  by  that  dull  old  poet,  Lydgate, 
who  describes  "  the  bishops  zn  pojitificalibus,  the 
Dean  of  Paules  and  canons,  every  one  who  con- 
veyed the  king  " 

"  Up  into  the  church,  with  full  devout  singing  ; 
And  when  he  had  made  his  offering, 
The  mayor,  the  citizens,  bowed  and  left  him." 

While  all  the  dark  troubles  still  were  pending, 
we  find  the  Duke  of  York  taking  a  solemn  oath 


240 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[St.  Paul's. 


on  the  host  of  fealty  to  King  Henry,  Six  years 
later,  after  the  battle  of  St.  Albans,  the  Yorkists  and 
Lancastrians  met  again  at  the  altar  of  St.  Paul's  in 
feigned  unity.  The  poor  weak  monarch  was  crowned, 
and  had  sceptre  in  hand,  and  his  proud  brilliant 
queen  followed  him  in  smiling  converse  with  the 
Duke  of  York.  Again  the  city  poet  broke  into 
rejoicing  at  the  final  peace  : — 

"  At  Paul's  in  London,  with  great  renown, 
On  Lady  Day  in  Lent,  this  peace  was  wrought ; 


I  knelt  before  the  primate,  and  swore  allegiance  to 

I  the  king ;   and  the  duke's  two  sons,   March  and 

I  Rutland,  took  the  same  oath. 

Within   a  few   months    Wakefield    was   fought ; 

,  Richard  was  slain,  and  the  duke's  head,  adorned 
with  a  mocking  paper  crown,  was  sent,  by  the  she- 

■  wolf  of  a  queen,  to  adorn  the  walls  of  York. 

The  next  year,  however,  fortune  forsook  Henry 
for  ever,  and  St.  Paul's  welcomed  Edward  IV.  and 
the  redoubtable  "  king-maker,"  who  had  won  the 


THE   CHURCH   OF  ST.    FAITH,    TilE   CRYPT   OF   OLD   ST.    PAUL'S,    FROM   A   VIEW    BY    HOLLAR. 


The  King,  the  Queen,  with  lords  many  an  one, 

To  worship  the  \'irgin  as  they  ought, 
Went  in  procession,  and  spared  right  nought 

In  sight  of  all  the  commonalty  ; 
In  token  this  love  was  in  heart  and  thought, 

Rejoice  England  in  concord  and  unity." 

Alas  for  such  reconciliations  !  Four  years  later 
more  blood  had  been  shed,  more  battle-fields 
strewn  with  dead.  The  king  was  a  captive, 
had  disinherited  his  own  son,  and  granted  the 
succession  to  the  Duke  of  York,  whose  right  a 
Parliament  had  acknowledged.  His  proud  queen 
was  in  the  North  rallying  the  scattered  Lancas- 
trians. York  and  Warwick,  Henry's  deadly  enemies, 


crown  for  him  at  the  battle  of  Mortimer's  Cross ; 
and  no  Lancastrian  dared  show  his  face  on  that 
triumphant  day.  Ten  years  later  Warwick,  veering 
to  the  downfallen  king,  was  slain  at  Barnet,  and 
the  body  of  the  old  warrior,  and  that  of  his  brother, 
were  exposed,  barefaced,  for  three  days  in  St.  Paul's, 
to  the  delight  of  all  true  Yorkists.  Those  were 
terrible  times,  and  the  generosity  of  the  old  chivalry 
seemed  nowdespised  and  forgotten.  The  next  month 
there  was  even  a  sadder  sight,  for  the  body  of  King 
Henry  himself  was  displayed  in  the  Cathedral. 
Broken-hearted,  said  the  Yorkists,  but  the  Lancas- 
trian belief  (favoured  by  Shakespeare)  was  that 
Richard  Duke  of  Gloucester,  the   wicked  Crook- 


St.  Paul's.] 


MORE  SAD   MEMORIES  AROUND   ST.    PAUL'S. 


241 


back,  stabbed  him  with  his  own  hand  in  the  Tower, 
and  it  was  said  that  blood  poured  from  the  body 
when  it  lay  in  the  Cathedral.  Again  St.  Paul's  was 
profaned  at  the  death  of  Edward  IV.,  when  Richard 
came  to  pay  his  ostentatious  orisons  in  the  Cathe- 
dral, while  he  was  already  planning  the  removal 
of  the  princes  to  the  Tower.  Always  anxious  to 
please  the  London  citizens,  it  was  to  St.  Paul's 
Cross  that  Richard  sent  Dr.  Shaw  to  accuse 
Clarence  of  illegitimacy.  At  St.  Paul's,  too,  ac- 
cording to  Shakespeare,  who  in  his  historic  plays 
often  follows  traditions  now  forgotten,  or  chronicles 
that  have  perished,  the  charges  against  Hastings 


mangledj  and  ill-shaped  body  thrown,  like  carrion, 
across  a  pack-horse  and  driven  off  to  Leicester,  and 
Henry  VII.,  the  astute,  the  wily,  the  thrifty,  reigned 
in  his  stead.  After  Henry's  victory  over  Simnel  he 
came  two  successive  days  to  St.  Paul's  to  offer  his 
thanksgiving,  and  Simnel  (afterwards  a  scullion  in 
the  royal  kitchen)  rode  humbly  at  his  conqueror's 
side. 

The  last  ceremonial  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VII. 
that,  took  place  at  St.  Paul's  was  the  ill-fated 
marriage  of  Prince  Arthur  (a  mere  boy,  who  died 
six  months  after)  with  Katherine  of  Arragon.  The 
whole  church  was  hung  with  tapestry,  and  there 


ST.  Paul's  after  the  fall  of  the  spire,  from  a  view  by  hollar  (seepage  244). 


were  publicly  read.  Jane  Shore,  the  mistress,-  and 
supposed  accomplice  of  Hastings  in  bewitching 
Richard,  did  penance  in  St.  Paul's.  She  was  the 
wife  of  a  London  goldsmith,  and  had  been  mistress 
of  Edward  IV.  Her  beauty,  as  she  walked  down- 
cast with  shame,  is  said  to  have  moved  every  heart 
to  pity.  On  his  accession,  King  Richard,  nervously 
fingering  his  dagger,  as  was  his  wont  to  do  accord- 
ing to  the  chronicles,  rode  to  St.  Paul's,  and  was 
received  by  procession,  amid  great  congratulation 
and  acclamation  from  the  fickle  people.  Kemp, 
who  was  the  Yorkist  bishop  during  all  these 
dreadful  times,  rebuilt  St.  Paul's  Cross,  which  then 
became  one  of  the  chief  ornaments  of  London. 
Richard's   crown   was   presently  beaten   into   a 

hawthorn  bush  on  Bosworth  Field,  and  his  defaced. 
21 


was  a  huge  scaffold,  with  seats  round  it,  reaching 
from  the  west  door  to  the  choir.  On  this  platform 
the  ceremony  was  performed.  All  day,  at  several 
places  in  the  city,  and  at  the  west  door  of  the 
Cathedral,  the  conduits  ran  for  the  delighted  people 
with  red  and  white  wine.  The  wedded  children 
were  lodged  in  the  bishop's  palaca,  and  three  days 
later  returned  by  water  to  Westminster.  When 
Henry  VII.  died,  his  body  lay  in  state  in  St.  Paul's, 
and  from  thence  it  was  taken  to  Windsor,  to  remain 
there  till  the  beautiful  chapel  he  had  endowed  at 
Westminster  was  ready  for  his  reception.  The 
Dean  and  Chapter  of  St.  Paul's  were  among  the 
trustees  for  the  endowment  he  left,  and  the  Cathe- 
dral still  possesses  the  royal  testament. 

A  Venetian  ambassador  who  was  present  has 


242 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


(St.  Paul's. 


left  a  graphic  description  of  one  of  the  earliest 
ceremonies  (15 14)  which  Henry  VIIL  witnessed 
at  St.  Paul's.  The  Pope  (Leo  X.)  had  sent  the 
young  and  chivalrous  king  a  sword  and  cap  of 
maintenance,  as  a  special  mark  of  honour.  The 
cap  was  of  purple  satin,  covered  with  embroidery 
and  pearls,  and  decked  with  ermine.  The  king 
rode  from  the  bishop's  palace  to  the  cathedral 
on  a  beautiful  black  palfrey,  the  nobility  walking 
before  him  in  pairs.  At  the  high  altar  the  king 
donned  the  cap,  and  was  girt  with  the  sword. 
The  procession  then  made  the  entire  circuit  of  the 
church.  The  king  wore  a  gown  of  purple  satin 
and  gold  in  chequer,  and  a  jewelled  collar;  his 
cap  of  purple  velvet  had  two  jewelled  rosettes, 
and  his  doublet  was  of  gold  brocade.  The  nobles 
wore  massive  chains  of  gold,  and  their  chequered 
silk  gowns  were  lined  with  sables,  lynx-fur,  and 
swansdown. 

In  the  same  reign  Richard  Fitz  James,  the 
fanatical  Bishop  of  London,  persecuted  the  Lol- 
lards, and  burned  two  of  the  most  obstinate  at 
Smithfield.  It  is  indeed,  doubtful,  even  now,  if 
Fitz  James,  in  his  hatred  of  the  reformers,  stopped 
short  of  murder.  In  1514,  Richard  Hunn,  a  citizen 
who  had  disputed  the  jurisdiction  of  the  obnoxious 
Ecclesiastical  Court,  was  thrown  into  the  Lollard's 
Tower  (the  bishop's  prison,  at  the  south-west  corner 
of  the  Cathedral).  A  Wycliffe  Bible  had  been 
found  in  his  house ;  he  was  adjudged  a  heretic, 
and  one  night  this  obstinate  man  was  found  hung 
in  his  cell.  The  clergy  called  it  suicide,  but  the 
coroner  brought  in  a  verdict  of  wilful  murder 
against  the  Bishop's  Chancellor,  the  sumner,  and 
the  bell-ringer  of  the  Cathedral.  The  king,  how- 
ever, pardoned  them  all  on  their  paying  ;^  1,5  00  to 
Hunn's  family.  The  bishop,  still  furious,  burned 
Hunn's  body  sixteen  days  after,  as  that  of  a 
heretic,  in  Smithfield.  This  fanatical  bishop  was 
the  ceaseless  persecutor  of  Dean  Colet,  that  ex- 
cellent and  enlightened  man,  who  founded  St. 
Paul's  School,  and  was  the  untiring  friend  of 
Erasmus,  whom  he  accompanied  on  his  memorable 
visit  to  Becket's  shrine  at  Canterbury. 

In  15 18  Wolsey,  proud  and  portly,  appears 
upon  the  scene,  coming  to  St.  Paul's  to  sing  mass 
and  celebrate  eternal  peace  between  France,  Eng- 
land, and  Spain,  and  the  betrothal  of  the  beautiful 
Princess  Mary  to  the  Dauphin  of  France.  The 
large  chapel  and  the  choir  were  hung  with  gold 
brocade,  blazoned  with  the  king's  arms.  Near 
the  altar  was  the  king's  pew,  formed  of  cloth  of 
gold,  and  in  front  of  it  a  small  altar  covered  with 
silver-gilt  images,  with  a  gold  cross  in  the  centre. 
Two  low  masses  were  said  at  this  before  the  king, 


while  high  mass  was  being  sung  to  the  rest.  On 
the  opposite  side  of  the  altar,  on  a  raised  and 
canopied  chair,  sat  Wolsey ;  further  off  stood  the 
legate  Campeggio. .  The  twelve  bishops  and  six 
abbots  present  all  wore  their  jewelled  mitres,  while 
the  king  himself  shone  out  in  a  tunic  of  purple 
velvet,  "powdered"  with  pearls  and  rubies,  sap- 
phires and  diamonds.  His  collar  was  studded 
with  carbuncles  as  large  as  walnuts.  A  year  later 
Charles  V.  was  proclaimed  emperor  by  the  heralds 
at  St.  Paul's.  Wolsey  gave  the  benediction,  no 
doubt  Nvith  full  hope  of  the  Pope's  tiara. 

In  1521,  but  a  little  later,  Wolsey,  "Cai'dinal  of 
St.  Cecilia  and  Archbishop  of  York,"  was  welcomed 
by  Dean  Pace  to  St.  Paul's.  He  had  come  to 
sit  near  Paul's  Cross,  to  hear  Fisher,  Bishop  of 
Rochester,  by  the  Pope's  command,  denounce 
"Martinus  Eleutherius"  and  his  accursed  works, 
many  of  which  were  burned  in  the  churchyard 
during  the  sermon,  no  doubt  to  the  infinite  alarm 
of  all  heretical  booksellers  in  the  neighbouring 
street  Wolsey  had  always  an  eye  to  the  emperor's 
helping  him  to  the  papacy ;  and  when  Charles  V. 
came  to  England  to  visit  Henry,  in  1522,  Wolsey 
said  mass,  censed  by  more  than  twenty  obsequious 
prelates.  It  was  Wolsey  who  first,  as  papal  legate, 
removed  the  convocation  entirely  from  St.  Paul's 
to  Westminster,  to  be  near  his  hOuse  at  Whitehall. 
His  ribald  enemy,  Skelton,  then  hiding  from  the 
cardinal's  wrath  in  the  Sanctuary  at  Westminster, 
wrote  the  following  rough  distich  on  the  arbitrary 
removal : — 

"  Gentle  Paul,  lay  down  thy  sword. 
For  Peter  of  Westminster  hath  shaven  thy  beard." 

On  the  startling  news  of  the  battle  of  Pavia, 
when  Francis  I.  was  taken  prisoner  by  his  great 
rival  of  Spain,  a  huge  bonfire  illumined  the  west  front 
of  St.  Paul's,  and  hogsheads  of  claret  were  broached 
at  the  Cathedral  door,  to  celebrate  the  welcome 
tidings.  On  the  Sunday  after,  the  bluff  king,  the 
queen,  and  both  houses  of  Parliament,  attended  a 
solemn  *'  Te  Deum "  at  the  cathedral ;  while  on 
St.  Matthew's  Day  there  was  a  great  procession  of 
all  the  religious  orders  in  London,  and  Wolsey, 
with  his  obsequious  bishops,  performed  service  at 
the  high  altar.  Two  years  later  Wolsey  came 
again,  to  lament  or  rejoice  over  the  sack  of  Rome 
by  the  Constable  Bourbon,  and  the  captivity  of 
the  Pope. 

Singularly  enough,  the  fire  lighted  by  Wolsey  in 
St.  Paul's  Churchyard  had  failed  to  totally  bum  up 
Luther  and  all  his  works ;  and  on  Shrove  Tuesday, 
1527,  Wolsey  made  another  attempt  to  reduce  the 
new-formed  Bible  to  ashes.  In  the  great  pro- 
cession that  came  on  this  day  to  St.  Paul's  there 


St.  Paul's.] 


POLITICAL   PEACE  AND   RELIGIOUS  WARFARE. 


243 


were  six  Lutherans  in  penitential  dresses,  carrying 
terribly  symbolical  fagots  and  huge  lighted  tapers. 
On  a  platform  in  the  nave  sat  the  portly  and  proud 
cardinal,  supported  by  thirty-six  zealous  bishops, 
abbots,  and  priests.  At  the  foot  of  the  great  rood 
over  the  northern  door  the  heretical  tracts  and 
Testaments  were  thrown  into  a  fire.  The  prisoners, 
on  their  knees,  begged  pardon  of  God  and  the 
Catholic  Church,  and  were  then  led  three  times 
round  the  fire,  which  they  fed  with  the  fagots  they 
had  carried. 

Four  years  later,  after  Wolsey's  fall,  the  London 
clergy  were  summoned  to  St.  Paul's  Chapter-house 
(npar  the  south  side).  The  king,  offended  at  the 
Church  having  yielded  to  Wolsey's  claims  as  a 
papal  legate,  by  which  the  penalty  of  praemunire 
had  been  incurred,  had  demanded  from  it  the 
alarming  fine  of  ;^  100,000.  Immediately  six 
hundred  clergy  of  all  ranks  thronged  riotously  to 
the  chapter-house,  to  resist  this  outrageous  tax. 
The  bishop  was  all  for  concession;  their  goods 
and  lands  were  forfeit,  their  bodies  liable  to  im- 
prisonment. The  humble  clergy  cried  out,  "We 
have  never  meddled  in  the  cardinal's  business. 
Let  the  bishops  and  abbots,  who  have  offended, 
pay."  Blows  were  struck,  and  eventually  fifteen 
priests  and  four  laymen  were  condemned  to  terms 
of  imprisonment  in  the  Fleet  and  Tower,  for  their 
resistance  to  despotic  power. 

In  1535  nineteen  German  Anabaptists  were 
examined  in  St.  Paul's,  and  fourteen  of  them  sent 
to  the  stake.  Then  came  plain  signs  that  the 
Reformation  had  commenced.  The  Pope's  autho- 
rity had  been  denied  at  Paul's  Cross  in  1534. 
A  miraculous  rood  from  Kent  was  brought  to  St. 
Paul's,  and  the  machinery  that  moved  the  eyes 
and  lips  was  shown  to  the  populace,  after  which 
it  was  thrown  down  and  broken  amid  contemptuous 
laughter.  Nor  would  this  chapter  be  complete  if 
we  did  not  mention  a  great  civic  procession  at  the 
close  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  On  Whit 
Sunday,  1546,  the  children  of  Paul's  School,  with 
parsons  and  vicars  of  every  London  church,  in 
their  copes,  went  from  St.  Paul's  to  St.  Peter's, 
Comhill,  Bishop  Bonner  bearing  the  sacrament 
under  a  canopy;  and  at  the  Cross,  before  the 
mayor,  aldermen,  and  all  the  crafts,  heralds  pro- 
claimed perpetual  peace  between  England,  France, 
and  the  Emperor.  Two  months  after,  the  ex- 
bishop  of  Rochester  preached  a  sermon  at  Paul's 
Cross  recanting  his  heresy,  four  of  his  late  fellow- 
prisoners  in  Newgate  having  obstinately  perished 
at  the  stake. 

In  the  reign  of  Edward  VI.  St.  Paul's  witnessed 
far  different  scenes.    The  year  of  the  accession  of 


the  child -king,  funeral  service  was  read  to  the 
memory  of  Francis  I.,  Latin  dirges  were  chanted, 
and  eight  mitred  bishops  sang  a  requiem  to  the 
monarch  lately  deceased.  At  the  coronation, 
while  the  guilds  were  marshalled  along  Cheap- 
side,  and  tapestries  hung  from  every  window,  an 
acrobat  descended  by  a  cable  from  St.  Paul's 
steeple  to  the  anchor  of  a  ship  near  the  Deanery 
door.  In  November  of  the  next  year,  at  night,  the 
crucifixes  and  images  in  St.  Paul's  were  pulled 
down  and  removed,  to  the  horror  of  the  faithful, 
and  all  obits  and  chantreys  were  confiscated,  and 
the  vestments  and  altar  cloths  were  sold.  The 
early  reformers  were  backed  by  greedy  partisans. 
The  Protector  Somerset,  who  was  desirous  of 
building  rapidly  a  sumptuous  palace  in  the  Strand, 
pulled  down  the  chapel  and  charnel-house  in  the 
Pardon  churchyard,  and  carted  off  the  stones  of 
St.  Paul's  cloister.  When  the  good  Ridley  was 
installed  Bishop  of  London,  he  would  not  enter 
the  choir  until  the  lights  on  the  altar  were  ex- 
tinguished. Very  soon  a  table  was  substituted  for 
the  altar,  and  there  was  an  attempt  made  to  re- 
move the  organ.  The  altar,  and  chapel,  and 
tombs  (all  but  John  of  Gaunt's)  were  then  ruth- 
lessly destroyed. 

During  the  Lady  Jane  Grey  rebellion,  Ridley 
denounced  Mary  and  Elizabeth  as  bastards.  The 
accession  of  gloomy  Queen  Mary  soon  turned  the 
tables.  As  the  Queen  passed  to  her  coronation,  a 
daring  Dutchman  stood  on  the  cross  of  St.  Paul's 
waving  a  long  streamer,  and  shifting  from  foot  to 
foot  as  he  shook  two  torches  which  he  held  over 
his  head. 

But  the  citizens  were  Protestants  at  heart.  At  the 
first  sermon  preached  at  St.  Paul's  Cross,  Dr.  Bourne, 
a  rash  Essex  clergyman,  prayed  for  the  dead,  praised 
Bonner,  and  denounced  Ridley.  The  mob,  in- 
flamed to  madness,  shouted,  **  He  preaches  dam- 
nation !  Pull  him  down !  pull  him  down  !"  A 
dagger,  thrown  at  the  preacher,  stuck  quivering  in 
a  side-post  of  the  pulpit.  With  difficulty  two  good 
men  dragged  the  rash  zealot  safely  into  St.  Paul's 
School.  For  this  riot  several  persons  were  sent  to 
the  Tower,  and  a  priest  and  a  barber  had  their 
ears  nailed  to  the  pillory  at  St.  Paul's  Cross.  The 
crosses  were  raised  again  in  St.  Paul's,  and  the  old 
ceremonies  and  superstitions  revived.  On  St. 
Katherine's  Day  (in  honour  of  the  queen's  mother's 
patron  saint)  there  was  a  procession  with  lights, 
and  the  image  of  St.  Katherine,  round  St.  Paul's 
steeple,  and  the  bells  rang.  Yet  not  long  after  this, 
when  a  Dr.  Pendleton  preached  old  doctrines  at 
St.  Paul's  Cross,  a  gun  was  fired  at  him.  When 
Bonner  was  released   from  the   Marshalsea  and 


244^ 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


ISt.  Pa«l'sVv 


restored  to  his  see,  the  people  shouted,  "  Welcome 
home ;"  and  -a  woman  ran  forward  and  kissed 
him.  We  are  told  that  he  knelt  in  prayer  on  tlie 
Cathedral  steps. 

In  1554,  at  the  reception  in  St.  Paul's  of  Car- 
dinal Pole,  King  Philip  attended  with  English, 
Spanish,  and  German  guards,  and  a  great  retinue 
of  nobles.  Bishop  Gardiner  preached  on  the  \viden- 
ing  heresy  till  the  audience  groaned  and  wept  Of 
the  cruel  persecutions  of  the  Protestants  in  this 
reign  St.  Paul's  was  now  and  then  a  witness,  and 
likewise  of  the  preparations  for  the  execution  of 
Protestants,  which  Bonner's  party  called  "  trials." 
Thus  we  find  Master  Cardmaker,  vicar  of  St. 
Bride's,  and  Wame,  an  upholsterer  in  Walbrook, 
both  arraigned  at  St.  Paul's  before  the  bishop  for 
heresy,  and  earned  back  from  there  to  Newgate, 
to  be  shortly  after  burned  alive  in  Smithfield. 

In  the  midst  of  these  horrors,  a  strange  cere- 
mony took  place  at  St.  Paul's,  more  worthy,  indeed, 
of  the  supposititious  temple  of  Diana  than  of 
a  Christian  cathedral,  did  it  not  remind  us  that 
Popery  was  always  strangely  intermingled  with  frag- 
ments of  old  paganism.  In  June,  1557  (St.  Paul's 
Day,  says  Machyn,  an  undertaker  and  chronicler 
of  Mary's  reign),  a  fat  buck  was  presented  to  the 
dean  and  chapter,  according  to  an  annual  grant 
made  by  Sir  Walter  le  Baud,  an  Essex  knight,  in  the 
reign  of  Edward  I.  A  priest  from  each  London 
parish  attended  in  his  cope,  and  the  Bishop  of 
London  wore  his  mitre,  while  behind  the  burly, 
bullying,  persecutor  Bonner  came  a  fat  buck,  his 
head  with  his  horns  borne  upon  a  pole;  forty 
huntsmen's  horns  blowing  a  rejoicing  chorus. 

The  last  event  of  this  blood-stained  reign  was 
the  celebration  at  St.  Paul's  of  the  victory  over 
the  French  at  the  battle  of  St.  Quintin  by  Philip 
and  the  Spaniards.  A  sermon  was  preached  to 
the  city  at  Paul's  Cross,  bells  were  rung,  and  bon- 
fires blazed  in  every  street. 

At  Elizabeth's  accession  its  new  mistress  soon 
purged  St.  Paul's  of  all  its  images :  copes  and 
shaven  crowns  disappeared.  The  first  ceremony  of 
the  new  reign  was  the  performance  of  the  obsequies 
of  Henry  II.  of  France.  The  empty  hearse  was 
hung  with  cloth  of  gold,  the  choir  draped  in  black, 
the  clergy  appearing  in  plain  black  gowns  and  caps. 
And  now,  what  the  Catholics  called  a  great  judgment 
fell  on  the  old  Cathedral  During  a  great  storm  in 
1 56 1,  St.  Martin's  Church,  Ludgate,  was  struck  by 
lightning ;  immediately  after,  the  wooden  steeple  of 
St.  Paul's  started  into  a  flame.  The  fire  burned 
downwards  furiously  for  four  hours,  the  bells  melted, 
the  lead  poured  in  torrents ;  the  roof  fell  in,  and 
the  whole  Cathedral  became  for  a  time  a  ruin. 


Soon  after,  at  the  Cross,  Dean  Newell  rebuked  the 
Papists  for  crying  out  "a  judgment."  In  papal 
times  the  church  had  also  suffered.  In  Richard  I.'s 
reign  an  earthquake  shook  do^vn  the  spire,  and  in 
Stephen's  time  fire  had  also  brought  destruction. 
The  Crown  and  City  were  roused  by  this  misfortune, 
Thrifty  Elizabeth  gave  1,000  marks  in  gold,  and 
1,000  marks'  worth  of  timber;  the  City  gave 
a  great  benevolence,  and  the  clergy  subscribed 
;;^i,4io.  In  one  month  a  false  roof  was  erected, 
and  by  the  end  of  the  year  the  aisles  were  leaded 
in.  On  the  ist  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,  for- 
bidding 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  church- 
yard, and  had  his  ears  nailed  to  a  post,  and  then 
cut  off.  These  proclamations,  however,  led  to  no  re- 
form. 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  dis- 
reputable flaunting  women  met  there  by  appoint- 
ment. 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  Mmi  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, 
\Vhere  all  our  British  sinners  swear  and  talk, 
Old  hardy  ruffians,  bankrupts,  soothsayers, 
And  youths  whose  cousenage  is  old  as  theirs." 


St  Paul's.] 


FINE  PROSPECTS  FOR  ST.   PAUL'S. 


Hi 


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  pakce.  It  declared 
her  crown  forfeited  and  her  people  absolved  from 
their  oaths  of  allegiance.  The  fanatic  maniac, 
Felton,  was  soon  discovered,  and  hung  on  a  gallows 
at  the  bishop's  gates. 

One  or  two  anecdotes  of  interest  specially  con- 
nect EHzabeth  with  St.  Paul's.  On  one  occa- 
sion Dean  Nowell  placed  in  the  queen's  closet 
(pew)  a  splendid  prayer-book,  full  of  German 
scriptural  engravings,  richly  illuminated.  The 
zealous  queen  was  furious;  the  book  seemed  to 
her  of  Catholic  tendencies. 

"Who  placed  this  book  on^  my  cushion?  You 
know  I  have  an  aversion  to  idolatry.  The  cuts 
resemble  angels  and  saints — nay,  even  grosser 
absurdities." 

The  frightened  dean  pleaded  innocence  of  all 
evil  intentions.  The  queen  prayed  God  to  grant 
him  more  wisdom  for  the  future,  and  asked  him 
where  they  came  from.  When  told  Germany,  she 
replied,  "It  is  well  it  was  a  stranger.  Had  it 
been  one  of  my  subjects,  we  should  have  ques- 
tioned the  matter." 

Once  again  Dean  Nowell  vexed  the  queen — this 
time  from  being  too  Puritan.  On  Ash  Wed- 
nesday, 1572,  the  dean  preaching  before  her,  he 
denounced  certain  popish  superstitions  in  a  book 
recently  dedicated  to  her  majesty.  He  specially 
denounced  the  use  of  the  sign  of  the  cross.  Sud- 
denly a  harsh  voice  was  heard  in  tlie  royal  closet. 
It  was  Elizabeth's.  She  chidingly  bade  Mr.  Dean 
return  from  his  ungodly  digression  and  revert  to 
his  text.  The  next  day  the  frightened  dean 
wrote  a  most  abject  apology  to  the  high-spirited 
queen. 

The  victory  over  the  Armada  was,  of  course, 
not  forgotten  at  St.  Paul's.  When  the  thanks- 
giving sermon  was  preached  at  Paul's  Cross,  eleven 
Spanish  ensigns  waved  over  the  cathedral  battle- 
ments, and  one  idolatrous  streamer  with  an  image 
of  the  Virgin  fluttered  over  the  preacher.  That 
was  in  September;  the  Queen  herself  came  in 
November,  drawn  by  four  white  horses,  and  with 
the  privy  council  and  all  the  nobility.  Elizabeth 
heard  a  sermon,  and  dined  at  the  bishop's  palace. 

The  •'  children  of  Paul's,"  whom  Shakespeare,  in 
Hamlet,  mentions  with  the  jealousy  of  a  rival 
manager,  were,  as  Dean  Milman  has  proved,  the 
chorister-boys  of  St.  Paul's.  They  acted,  it  is  sup- 
posed, in  their  singing-school.  The  .play  began  at 
four  p.m.,  after  prayers,  and  the  price  of  admission 
was  4d. ,  They  are  known  at  a  later  period  to 


have  acted  some  of  Lily's  Euphuistic  plays,  and 
one  of  Middleton's. 

In  this  reign  lotteries  for  Government  purposes 
were  held  at  the  west  door  of  St.  Paul's,  where  a 
wooden  shed  was  erected  for  drawing  the  prizes, 
which  were  first  plate  and  then  suits  of  armour. 
In  the  first  lottery  (1569)  there  were  40,000  lots 
at  I  OS.  a  lot,  and  the  profits  were  applied  to  re- 
pairing the  harbours  of  England. 

In  the  reign  of  James  I.  blood  was  again  shed 
before  St.  Paul's.  Years  before  a  bishop  had  been 
murdered  at  the  north  door;. now,  before  the  west 
entrance  (in  January,  1605-6),  four  of  the  despe- 
rate Gunpowder  Plot  conspirators  (Sir  Everard 
Digby,  Winter,  Grant,  and  Bates)  were  there  hung, 
drawn,  and  quartered.  Their  attempt  to  restore 
the  old  religion  by  one  blow  ended  in  the  hang- 
man's strangling  rope  and  the  executioner's  cruel 
knife.  In  the  May  following  a  man  of  less-proven 
guilt  (Garnet,  the  Jesuit)  suffered  the  same  fate  in 
St.  Paul's  Churchyard;  and  zealots  of  his  faith 
affirmed  that  on  straws  saved  from  the  scaffold 
miraculous  portraits  of  their  martyr  were  discovered. 

The  ruinous  state  of  the  great  cathedral,  still 
without  a  tower,  now  aroused  the  theological  king. 
He  first  tried  to  saddle  the  bishop  and  chapter, 
but  Lord  Southampton,  Shakespeare's  friend,  inter- 
posed to  save  them.  Then  the  matter  went  to 
sleep  for  twelve  years.  In  1620  the  king  again 
awoke,  and  came  in  state  with  all  his  lords  on 
horseback,  to  hear  a  sermon  at  the  Cross  and  to 
view  the  church.  A  royal  commission  followed, 
Inigo  Jones,  the  king's  protege,  whom  James  had" 
brought  from  Denmark,  being  one  of  the  com- 
missioners. The  sum  required  was  estimated  at 
;;^2 2,536.  The  king's  zeal  ended  here;  and  his 
favourite,  Buckingham,  borrowed  the  stone  col- 
lected for  St.  Paul's  for  his  Strand  palace,  and  from 
parts  of  it  was  raised  that  fine  water-gate  still  exist- 
ing in  the  Thames  Embankment  gardens. 

When  Charles  I.  made^i  that  narrow  -  minded 
churchman.  Laud,  Bishop  of  London,  one  of  Laud's 
first  endeavours  was  to  restore  St.  Paul's.  Charles  I. 
was  a  man  of  taste,  and  patronised  painting  and 
architecture.  Inigo  Jones  was  already  building 
the  Banqueting  House  at  Whitehall.  The  king 
was  so  pleased  lyith  Inigo's  design  for  the  new 
portico  of  St.  Paul's,  that  he  proposed  to  pay  for 
that  himself.  Laud  gave  ;;^  1,200.  The  fines  of 
the  obnoxious  and  illegal  High  Commission  Court 
were  set  apart  for  the  same  object.  The  small 
sheds  and  houses  round  the  west  front  were  ruth- 
lessly cleared  away.  All  shops  in  Cheapside  and 
Lombard  Street,  except  goldsmiths,  were  to  be 
shut  up,  that  the  eastern  approach  to  St.  Paul's 


246 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[St.  Paul's.  , 


might  appear  more  splendid.  The  church  of 
St.  Gregory,  at  the  south-west  wing  of  the  cathedral, 
was  removed  and  rebuilt.  Inigo  Jones  cut  away 
all  the  decayed  stone  and  crumbling  Gothic  work  of 
the  Cathedral,  and  on  the  west  portico  expended 
all  the  knowledge  he  had  acquired  in  his  visit  to 
Rome.  The  result  was  a  pagan  composite,  beautiful 
but  incongruous.  The  front,  161  feet  long  and 
162  feet  high,  was  supported  by  fourteen  Corinthian 
columns.  On  the  parapet  above  the  pillars  Inigo 
proposed  that  there  should  stand   ten   statues  of 


1639,  a  paper  was  found  in  the  yard  of  the  deanery, 
before  Laud's  house,  inscribed — "  Laud,  look  to 
thyself.  Be  assured  that  thy  life  is  sought,  as  thou 
art  the  fountain  of  all  wickedness ;"  and  in  October, 

1640,  the  High  Commission  sitting  at  St.  Paul's, 
nearly  2,000  Puritans  made  a  tumult,  tore  down 
the  benches  in  the  consistory,  and  shouted,  "  We 
will  have  no  bishops  and  no  High  Commission." 

The  Parliament  made  short  work  with  St.  Paul's, 
of  Laud's  projects,  and  Inigo  Jones's  classicalisms. 
They  at  once  seized  the  ;!£"i 7,000  or  so  left  of  the 


THE  CHAPTER  HOUSE  OF  OLD   ST.    PAUl's,    FROM  A  VIEW   BY   HOLLAR   (see  page  243). 


princely  benefactors  of  St.  Paul's.  At  each  angle 
of  the  west  front  there  was  a  tower.  The  portico 
was  intended  for  a  Paul's  Walk,  to  drain  off  the 
profanation  from  within. 

Nor  were  the  London  citizens  backward.  One 
most  large-hearted  man.  Sir  Paul  Pindar,  a  Turkey 
merchant  who  had  been  ambassador  at  Constanti- 
nople, and  whose  house  is  still  to  be  seen  in  Bishops- 
gate  Street,  contributed  ;^  10,000  towards  the  screen 
and  south  transept.  The  statues  of  James  and 
Charles  were  set  up  over  the  portico,  and  the 
steeple  was  begun,  when  the  storm  arose  that  soon 
whistled  off  the  king's  unlucky  head.  The  coming 
troubles  cast  shadows  around  St.  Paul's.   In  March, 


subscription.  To  Colonel  Jephson's  regiment,  in 
arrears  for  pay,  ^^1,746,  they  gave  the  scaffolding 
round  St.  Paul's  tower,  and  in  pulling  it  to  'pieces 
down  came  part  of  St.  Paul's  south  transept.  The 
copes  in  St.  Paul's  were  burnt  (to  extract  the  gold), 
and  the  money  sent  to  the  persecuted  Protestant 
poor  in  Ireland.  The  silver  vessels  were  sold  to  buy 
artillery  for  Cromwell.  There  was  a  story  current 
that  Cromwell  intended  to  sell  St.  Paul's  to  the  Jews 
for  a  synagogue.  The  east  end  of  the  church  was 
walled  in  for  a  Puritan  lecturer ;  the  graves  were 
desecrated ;  the  choir  became  a  cavalry  barracks ; 
the  portico  was  let  out  to  sempsters  and  hucksters, 
who  lodged  in  rooms  above;  James  and  Charles 


St.  Paul's.! 


REPAIRS   OF  ST.    PAUL'S. 


247 


DR.     BOURNE    PREACHING    AT    PAUL'S    CROSS  {sfe  page  24^). 


245 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


CSt.  Paul's 


were  toppled  from  the  portico ;  while  the  pulpit  and 
cross  were  entirely  destroyed.  The  dragoons  in 
St  Paul's  became  so  troublesome  to  the  inhabitants 
by  their  noisy  brawling  games  and  their  rough 
interruption  of  passengers,  that  in  165 1  we  find 
them  forbidden  to  play  at  ninepins  from  six  a.ni. 
to  nine  p.m. 

When  the  Restoration  came,  sunshine  again  fell 
upon  the  ruins.  Wren,  that  great  genius,  was  called 
in.  His  report  was  not  very  favourable.  The 
pillars  were  giying  way ;  the  whole  work  had  been 
from  the  beginning  ill  designed  and  ill  built ;  the 
tower  was  leaning.  He  proposed  to  have  a  rotunda, 
with  cupola  and  kntem,  to  give  the  church  light, 
"  and  incomparable  more  grace"  than  the  lean  shaft 
of  a  steeple  could  possibly  afford.  He  closed  his 
report  by  a  eulogy  on  the  portico  of  Inigo  Jones,  as 
"  an  absolute  piece  in  itself."  Some  of  the  stone 
collected  for  St.  Paul's  went,  it  is  said,  to  build 
Lord  Clarendon's  house  (site  of  Albemarle  Street). 
On  August  27,  1 66 1,  good  Mr.  Evelyn,  one  of 
the  commissioners,  describes  going  with  Wren,  the 
Bishop  and  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  &c.,  and  resolving 
finally  on  a  new  foundation.  On  Sunday,  Sep- 
tember 2,  the  Great  Fire  drew  a  red  cancelling  line 
over  Wren's  half-drawn  plans.  The  old  cathedral 
passed  away,  like  Elijah,  in  flames.  The  fire  broke 
out  about  ten  o'clock  on  Saturday  night  at  a  bake- 
house in  Pudding  Lane,  near  East  Smithfield.  Sun- 
day afternoon  Pepys  found  all  the  goods  carried 
that  morning  to  Cannon  Street  now  removing  to 
Lombard  Street.  At  St  Paul's  Wharf  he  takes 
water,  follows  the  king's  party,  and  lands  at  Bank- 
side.  "  In  comers  and  upon  steeples,  and  between 
churches  and  houses,  as  far  as  we  could  see  up  the 
city,  a  most  horrid,  bloody,  malicious  flame,  not 
like  the  flame  of  an  ordbary  fire."  On  the  7th, 
he  saw  St.  Paul's  Church  with  all  the  roof  off",  and 
the  body  of  the  quire  fallen  into  St.  Faith's. 

On  Monday,  the  3rd,  Mr.  Evelyn  describes  the 
whole  north  of  the  City  on  fire,  the  sky  light  for 
ten  miles  round,  and  the  scaffolds  round  St.  Paul's 
catching.  On  the  4th  he  saw  the  stones  of  St 
Paul's  flying  Uke  grenades,  the  melting  lead  running 
in  streams  down  the  streets,  the  very  pavements 
too  hot  for  the  feet,  and  the  approaches  too 
blocked  for  any  help  to  be  applied.  A  Westminster 
boy  named  Taswell  (quoted  by  Dean  Milman 
from  "  Camden's  Miscellany,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  12)  has  also 
sketched  the  scene.  On  Monday,  the  3rd,  from 
Westminster  he  saw,  about  eight  o'clock,  the  fire 
burst  forth,  and  before  nine  he  could  read  by  the 
blaze  a  i6mo  "  Terence  "  which  he  had  with  him. 
The  boy  at  once  set  out  for  St  Paul's,  resting  by 
the  way  uponJFleet  Bridge,  being  almost  faintjvith 


the  intense  heat  of  the  air.  The  bells  were  melting, 
and  vast  avalanches  of  stones  were  pouring  from 
the  walls.  Near  the  east  end  he  found  the  body 
of  an  old  woman,  who  had  cowered  there,  burnedi 
to  a  coal.  Taswell  also  relates  that  the  ashes  of 
the  books  kept  in  St.  Faith's  were  blown  as  far 
as  Eton. 

On  the  7th  (Friday)  Evelyn  again  visited  St. 
Paul's.  The  portico  he  found  rent  in  pieces,  the 
vast  stones  split  asunder,  and  nothing  remaining 
entire  but  the  inscription  on  the  architrave,  not 
one  letter  of  which  was  injured.  Six  acres  of  lead 
on  the  roof  were  all  melted.  The  roof  of  St 
Faith's  had  fallen  in,  and  all  the  magazines  and 
books  from  Paternoster  Row  were  consumed, 
burning  for  a  week  together.  Singularly  enough, 
the  lead  over  the  altar  at  the  east  end  was 
untouched,  and  among  the  monuments  the  body 
of  one  bishop  (Braybroke — Richard  H.)  remained 
entire.  The  old  tombs  nearly  all  perished;  amongst 
them  those  of  two  Saxon  kings,  John  of  Gaunt,  his 
wife  Constance  of  Castile,  poor  St.  Erkenwald,  and 
scores  of  bishops,  good  and  bad;  Sir  Nicholas 
Bacon,  Elizabeth's  Lord  Keeper,  and  father  of  the 
great  philosopher ;  the  last  of  the  true  knights,  the 
gallant '  Sir  Philip  Sidney ;  and  Walsingham,  that 
astute  counsellor  of  Elizabeth.  Then  there  was  Sir 
Christopher  Hatton,  the  dancing  chancellor,  whose 
proud  monument  crowded  back  Walsingham  and 
Sidney's.  According  to  the  old  scoffing  distich, 
"  Philip  and  Francis  they  have  no  tomb, 
For  great  Christopher  takes  all  the  room." 

Men  of  letters  in  old  St.  Paul's  (says  Dean  Milman) 
there  were  few.  The  chief  were  Lily,  the  gram- 
marian, second  master  of  St.  Paul's ;  and  Linacre, 
the  physician,  the  friend  of  Colet  and  Erasmus, 
Of  artists  there  was  at  least  one  great  man — 
Vandyck,  who  was  buried  near  John  of  Gaunt 
Among  citizens,  the  chief  was  Sir  William  Hewet, 
whose  daughter  married  Osborne,  an  apprentice, 
who  saved  her  from  drowning,  and  who  was  the 
ancestor  of  the  Dukes  of  Leeds. 

After  the  fire.  Bishop  Sancroft  preached  in  a 
patched-up  part  of  the  west  end  of  the  ruins.  All 
hopes  of  restoration  were  soon  abandoned,  as  Wren 
had,  with  his  instinctive  genius,  at  once  predicted. 
Sancroft  at  onee  wrote  to  the  great  architect, 
*'  What  you  last  whispered  in  my  ear  is  now  come 
to  pass."  A  pillar  has  fallen,  and  the  rest 
threatens  to  follow."  The  letter  concludes  thus : 
"You  are  so  absolutely  necessary  to  us,  that  we 
can  do  nothing,  resolve  on  nothing,  without  you." 
There  was  plenty  of  zeal  in  London  still ;  but, 
nevertheless,  after  all,  nothing  was  done  to  the  re- 
building till  the  year  1673. 


St.  Paul's.] 


THE  NEW   CATHEDRAL. 


249 


CHAPTERXXI, 

ST.  PAUL'S  {continued). 

The  Rebuilding  of  St.  Paul's— III  Treatment  of  its  Architect— Cost  of  the  Present  Fabric— Royal  [Visitors— The  First  Grave  In  St,  Paul's— 
Monuments  in  St.  Paul's — Nelson's]  Funeral — Military  Heroes  in  St,  Paul's — The  Duke  of  Wellington's  Funeral — Other  Great  Men  in 
St.  Paul's— Proposals  for  the  Completion  and  Decoration  of  the  Building — Dimensions  of  St  Paul's — Plan  of  Construction — The  Dome, 
Ball,  and  Cross— Mr.  Horner  and  his  Observatory — Two  Narrow  Escapes— Sir  James  Thomhill— Peregrine  Falcons  on  St.  Paul's — Nooks 
and  Corners  of  the  Cathedral — The  Library,  Model  Room,  and  Clock — The  Great  Bell — A  Lucky  Error — Curious  Story  of  a  Monomaniac — 
The  Poets  and  the  Cathedral — The  Festivals  of  the  Charity  Schools  and  of  the  Sons  of  the  Clergy. 


Towards  the  rebuilding  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral, 
Charles  II.,  generous  as  usual  in  promises,  offered 
an  annual  contribution  of  ;!^  1,000 ;  but  this, 
however,  never  seems  to  have  been  paid.  It,  no 
doubt,  went  to  pay  Nell  Gwynne's  losses  at  the 
gambling-table,  or  to  feed  the  Duchess  of  Ports- 
mouth's lap-dogs.  Some  ;^i,7oo  in  fines,  however, 
were  set  apart  for  the  new  building.  The  Primate 
Sheldon  gave  ;^2,ooo.  Many  of  the  bishops  con- 
tributed largely,  and  there  were  parochial  collec- 
tions all  over  England.  But  the  bulk  of  the  money 
was  obtained  from  the  City  duty  on  coals,  which  (as 
Dean  Milman  remarks)  in  time  had  their  revenge 
in  destroying  the  stonework  of  the  Cathedral.  It 
was  only  by  a  fortunate  accident  that  Wren  became 
the  builder ;  for  Charles  II.,  whose  tastes  and  vices 
were  all  French,  had  in  vain  invited  over  Perrault, 
the  designer  of  one  of  the  fronts  of  the  Louvre. 

The  great  architect,  Wren,  was  the  son  of  a 
Dean  of  Windsor,  and  nephew  of  a  Bishop  of 
Norwich  whom  Cromwell  had  imprisoned  for  his 
Romish  tendencies.  From  a  boy  Wren  had  shown 
a  genius  for  scientific  discovery.  He  distinguished 
himself  in  almost  every  branch  of  knowledge,  and 
to  his  fruitful  brain  we  are  indebted  for  some  fifty- 
two  suggestive  discoveries.  He  now.  hoped  to 
rebuild  London  on  a  magnificent  scale  ;  but  it  was 
not  to  be.  Even  in  the  plans  for  the  new 
cathedral  Wren  was  from  the  beginning  thwarted 
and  impeded.  Ignorance,  envy,  jealousy,  and 
selfishness  met  him  at  every  line  he  drew.  He 
made  two  designs — the  first  a  Greek,  the  second 
a  Latin  cross.  The  Greek  cross  the  clergy  con- 
sidered as  unsuitable  for  a  cathedral.  The  model 
for  it  was  long  preserved  in  the  Trophy  Room  of 
St.  Paul's,  where,  either  from  neglect  or  the  zeal  of 
relic-hunters,  the  western  portico  was  lost.  It  is 
now  at  South  Kensington,  and  is  still  imperfect. 
The  interior  of  the  first  design  is  by  many  con- 
sidered superior  to  the  present  interior.  The 
present  recesses  along  the  aisles  of  the  nave, 
tradition  says,  were  insisted  on  by  James  II.,  who 
thought  they  would  be  useful  as  side  chapels  when 
masses  were  once  more  introduced. 

The  first  stone  was  laid  by  Wren  on  the  21st 


June,  1675,  but  there  was  no  public  ceremonial. 
Soon  after  the  great  geometrician  had  drawn  the 
circle  for  the  beautiful  dome,  he  sent  a  workman 
for  a  stone  to  mark  the  exact  centre.  The  man  re- 
turned with  a  fragment  of  a  tombstone,  on  which 
was  the  one  ominous  word  (as  every  one  observed) 
"  Resurgam ! "  The  ruins  of  old  St.  Paul's  were 
stubborn.  In  trying  to  blow  up  the  tower,  a 
passer-by  was  killed,  and  Wren,  with  his  usual 
ingenuity,  resorted  successfully  to  the  old  Roman 
battering-ram,  which  soon  cleared  a  way.  "  I  build 
for  eternity,"  said  Wren,  with  the  true  confidence 
of  genius,  as  he  searched  for  a  firm  foundation. 
Below  the  Norman,  Saxon,  and  Roman  graves  he 
dug  and  probed  till  he  could  find  the  most  reliable 
stratum.  Below  the  loam  was  sand ;  under  the  sand 
a  layer  of  fresh-water  shells ;  under  these  were  sand, 
gravel,  and  London  clay.  At  the  north-east  corner 
of  the  dome  Wren  was  vexed  by  coming  upon  a  pit 
dug  by  the  Roman  potters  in  search  of  clay.  He,' 
however,  began  from  the  solid  earth  a  strong  pier 
of  masonry,  and  above  turned  a  short  arch  to  the 
former  foundation.  He  also  slanted  the  new 
building  more  to  the  north-east  than  its  predecessor, 
in  order  to  widen  the  street  south  of  St.  Paul'.s. 

Well  begun  is  half  done.  The  Cathedral  grew 
fast,  and  in  two-and-twenty  years  fi-om  the  laying 
of  the  first  stone  the  choir  was  opened  for  Divine 
service.  The  master  mason  who  helped  to  lay  the 
first  stone  assisted  in  fixing  the  last  in  the  lantern. 
A  great  day  was  chosen  for  the  opening  of  St. 
Paul's.  December  2nd,  1697,  was  the  thanksgiving 
day  for  the  Peace  of  Ryswick — the  treaty  which 
humbled  France,  and  seated  William  firmly  and 
permanently  on  the  English  throne.  The  king, 
much  against  his  will,  was  persuaded  to  stay  at 
home  by  his  courtiers,  who  dreaded  armed  Jacobites 
among  the  300,000  people  who  would  throng  the 
streets.  Worthy  Bishop  Compton,  who,  dressed  as 
a  trooper,  had  guarded  the  Princess  Anne  in  her 
flight  from  her  father,  preached  that  inspiring  day 
on  the  text,  "  I  was  glad  when  they  said  unto  me, 
Let  us  go  into  the  house  of  the  Lord."  From 
then  till  now  the  daily  voice  of  prayer  and  praise 
has  never  ceased  in  St.  Paul's, 


250 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[St.  Paul's. 


Queen  Anne,  during  her  eventful  reign,  went 
seven  times  to  St,  Paul's  in  solemn  procession,  to 
commemorate  victories  over  France  or  Spain.  The 
first  of  these  (1702)  was  a  jubilee  for  Marlborough's 
triumph  in  the  Low  Countries,  and  Rooke's  de- 
struction of  the  Spanish  fleet  at  Vigo.  The  Queen 
sat  on  a  raised  and  canopied  throne ;  the  Duke 
of  Marlborough,  as  Groom  of  the  Stole,  on  a 
stool  behind  her.  The  Lords  and  Commons,  who 
had  arrived  in  procession,  were  arranged  in  the 
choir.  The  brave  old  Whig  Bishop  of  Exeter,  Sir 
Jonathan  Trelawney  ("  and  shall  Trelawney  die  ?"), 
preached  the  sermon.  Guns  at  the  Tower,  on  the 
river,  and  in  St.  James's  Park,  fired  off  the  Te 
Deum,  and  when  the  Queen  started  and  returned. 
In  1704,  the  victory  of  Blenheim  was  celebrated; 
in  1705,  the  forcing  of  the  French  lines  at  Tirle- 
mont;  in  1706,  the  battle  of  RamilUes  and  Lord 
Peterborough's  successes  in  Spain;  in  1707,  more 
triumphs;  in  1708,  the  battle  of  Oudenarde ;  and 
last  of  all,  in  17 13,  the  Peace  of  Utrecht,  when  the 
Queen  was  unable  to  attend.  On  this  last  day 
the  charity  children  of  London  (4,000  in  number) 
first  attended  outside  the  church. 

St.  Paul's  was  already,  to  all  intents  and  pur- 
poses, completed.  The  dome  was  ringed  with  its 
golden  gallery,  and  crowned  with  its  glittering  cross. 
In  1 7 1  o.  Wren's  son  and  the  body  of  Freemasons 
had  laid  the  highest  stone  of  the  lantern  of  the 
cupola,  and  now  commenced  the  bitterest  morti- 
fications of  Wren's  life.  The  commissioners  had 
dwindled  down  to  Dean  Godolphin  and  six  or 
seven  civilians  from  Doctors'  Commons.  Wren's 
old  friends  were  dead.  His  foes  compelled  him 
to  pile  the  organ  on  the  screen,  though  he  had  in- 
tended it  to  be  under  the  north-east  arch  of  the 
choir,  where  it  now  is.  Wren  wished  to  use 
mosaic  for  internal  decoration ;  they  pronounced 
it  too  costly,  and  they  took  the  painting  of  the 
cupola  out  of  Wren's  hands  and  gave  it  to 
Hogarth's  father-in-law.  Sir  James  Thornhill.  They 
complained  of  wilful  delay  in  the  work,  and 
accused  Wren  or  his  assistant  of  corruption ;  they 
also  withheld  part  of  his  salary  till  the  work  was 
completed.  Wren  covered  the  cupola  with  lead, 
at  a  cost  of  ;3^2,5oo ;  the  committee  were  for 
copper,  at  ;!^3,o5o.  About  the  iron  railing  for  the 
churchyard  there  was  also  wrangling.  Wren  wished 
a  low  fence,  to  leave  the  vestibule  and  the  steps 
free  and  open.  The  commissioners  thought  Wren's 
design  mean  and  weak,  and  chose  the  present  heavy 
and  cumbrous  iron-work,  which  breaks  up  the  view 
of  the  west  front. 

The  new  organ,  by  Father  Bernard  Smith,  which 
cost  ;^2,ooo,  was  shorn  of  its  full  size  by  Wren, 


perhaps  in  vexation  at  its  misplacement.  The 
paltry  statue  of  Queen  Anne,  in  the  churchyard, 
was  by  Bird,  and  cost  ;^i,i3o,  exclusive  of  the 
marble,  which  the  Queen  provided.  The  carvings  in 
thechoir,  by  Grinling  Gibbons,  cost  ;^i,337  7s.  sd. 
On  some  of  the  exterior  sculpture  Gibber  worked. 

In  17 18  a  violent  pamphlet  appeared,  written, 
it  was  supposed,  by  one  of  the  commissioners.  It 
accused  Wren's  head  workmen  of  pilfering  timber 
and  cracking  the  bells.  Wren  proved  the  charges 
to  be  malicious  and  untrue.  The  commissioners 
now  insisted  on  adding  a  stone  balustrade  all 
round  St.  Paul's,  in  spite  of  Wren's  protests.  He 
condemned  the  addition  as  "  contrary  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  architecture,  and  as  breaking  into  the 
harmony  of  the  whole  design;"  but,  he  said, 
"  ladies  think  nothing  well  without  an  edging." 

The  next  year,  the  commissioners  went  a  step 
further.  Wren,  then  eighty-six  years  old,  and  in 
the  forty-ninth  year  of  office,  was  dismissed  without 
apology  from  his  post  of  Surveyor  of  Public 
Works.  The  German  Court,  hostile  to  all  who 
had  served  the  Stuarts,  appointed  in  his  place  a 
poor  pretender,  named  Benson.  This  charlatan — 
now  only  remembered  by  a  line  in  the  "  Dunciad," 
which  ridicules  the  singular  vanity  of  a  man  who 
erected  a  monument  to  Milton,  in  Westminster 
Abbey,  and  crowded  the  marble  with  his  own  titles 
— was  afterwards  dismissed  from  his  surveyorship 
with  ignominy,  but  had  yet  influence  enough  at 
Court  to  escape  prosecution  and  obtain  several 
valuable  sinecures.  Wren  retired  to  his  house  at 
Hampton  Court,  and  there  sought  consolation  in 
philosophical  and  religious  studies.  Once  a  year, 
says  Horace  Walpole,  the  good  old  man  was 
carried  to  St.  Paul's,  to  contemplate  the  glorious 
chef-cTmivre  of  his  genius,  Steele,  in  the  Taikr, 
refers  to  Wren  s  vexations,  and  attributes  them  to 
his  modesty  and  bashfulness. 

The  total  sum  expended  on  the  building  of  St 
Paul's  Cathedral,  according  to  Dean  Milman,  was 
;^736,752  2S.  3^d. ;  a  small  residue  from  the  coal 
duty  was  all  that  was  left  for  future  repairs.  To 
this  Dean  Clark  added  about  £s°°i  P^rt  of  the 
profits  arising  from  an  Essex  estate  (the  gift  of 
an  old  Saxon  king),  leased  from  the  Dean  and 
Chapter.  The  charge  of  the  fabric  was  vested  not 
in  the  Dean  and  Chapter,  but  in  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  the  Bishop  of  London,  and  the  Lord 
Mayor  for  the  time  being.  These  trustees  elect  the 
surveyor  and  audit  the  accounts. 

On  the  accession  of  George  I.  (17 15),  the  new 
king,  princes,  and  princesses  went  in  state  to  St. 
Paul's.  Seventy  years  elapsed  before  an  English 
king  again  entered  Wren's  cathedral,     In  April, 


St,  Paul's.] 


NELSON'S  FUNERAL  IN  ST.   PAUL'S. 


251 


1789,  George  IIL  came  to  thank  God  for  his  tem- 
porary recovery  from  insanity.  Queen  Charlotte, 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  the  Duke  of  York  were 
present,  and  both  Houses  of  Parliament.  Bishop 
Porteous  preached  the  sermon,  and  6,goo  charity 
children  joined  in  the  service.  In  1797,  King 
George  came  again  to  attend  a  thanksgiving  for 
Lord  Duncan's  and  Lord  Howe's  naval  victories ; 
French,  Spanish,  and  Dutch  flags  waved  above 
the  procession,  and  Sir  Horatio  Nelson  was  there 
among  other  heroes. 

The  first  grave  sunk  in  St.  Paul's  was  fittingly 
that  of  Wren,  its  builder.  He  Hes  in  the  place  of 
honour,  the  extreme  east  of  the  crypt.  The  black 
marble  slab  is  railed  in,  and  the  light  from  a  small 
window-grating  falls  upon  the  venerated  name. 
Sir  Christopher  died  in  1723,  aged  ninety-one. 
The  fine  inscription,  *'  Si  monumentum  requiris, 
circumspice,"  written  probably  by  his  son,  or  Mylne, 
the  builder  of  Blackfriars  Bridge,  was  formerly  in 
front  of  the  organ-gallery,  but  is  now  placed  over 
the  north-western  entrance. 

The  clergy  of  St.  Paul's  were  for  a  long  time 
jealous  of  allowing  any  monument  in  the  cathedral. 
Dean  Newton  wished  for  a  tomb,  but  it  was  after- 
wards erected  in  St.  Mary-le-Bow.  A  better  man 
than  the  vain,  place-hunting  dean  was  the  first 
honoured.  The  earliest  statue  admitted  was  that  of 
the  benevolent  Howard,  who  had  mitigated  suffering 
and  sorrow  in  all  the  prisons  of  Europe ;  he  stands 
at  the  corner  of  the  dome  facing  that  half-stripped 
athlete.  Dr.  Johnson,  and  the  two  are  generally 
taken  by  country  visitors  for  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul. 
He  who  with  Goldsmith  had  wandered  through  the 
Abbey,  wondering  if  one  day  their  names  might 
not  be  recorded  there,  found  a  grave  in  West- 
minster, and,  thanks  to  Reynolds,  the  first  place  of 
honour.  Sir  Joshua  himself,  as  one  of  our  greatest 
painters,  took  the  third  place,  that  Hogarth  should 
have  occupied ;  and  the  fourth  was  awarded  to  that 
great  Oriental  scholar.  Sir  William  Jones.  The 
clerical  opposition  was  now  broken  through,  for  the 
world  felt  that  the  Abbey  was  full  enough,  and  that 
St.  Paul's  required  adorning. 

Henceforward  St,  Paul's  was  chiefly  set  apart  for 
naval  and  military  heroes  whom  the  city  could 
best  appreciate,  while  the  poets,  great  writers,  and 
statesmen  were  honoured  in  the  Abbey,  and  laid 
among  the  old  historic  dead.  From  the  beginning 
our  sculptors  resorted  to  pagan  emblems  and 
pagan  allegorical  figures;  the  result  is  that  St. 
Paul's  resembles  a  Pantheon  of  the  Lower  Empire, 
and  is  a  hospital  of  third-rate  art.  The  first  naval 
conqueror  so  honoured  was  Rodney ;  Rossi  re- 
ceived ;^6,ooo  for  his  cold  and  clumsy  design : 


Lord  Howe's  statue  followed;  and  next  that 
of  Lord  Duncan,  the  hero  of  Camperdo^vn.  It  is 
a  simple  statue  by  Westmacott,  with  a  seaman  and 
his  wife  and  child  on  the  pedestal.  For  Earl  St. 
Vincent,  Bailey  produced  a  colossal  statue  and  the 
usual  scribbling,  History  and  a  trumpeting  Victory. 
Then  came  Nelson's  brothers  in  arms — men  of 
lesser  mark ;  but  the  nation  was  grateful,  and  the 
Government  was  anxious  to  justify  its  wars  by  its 
victories,  St,  Paul's  was  growing  less  particular,  and 
now  opened  its  arms  to  the  best  men  it  could  get. 
Many  of  Nelson's  captains  preceded  him  on  the 
red  road  to  death — Westcott,  who  fell  at  Aboukir ; 
Mosse  and  Riou,  who  fell  before  Copenhagen  (a 
far  from  stainless  victory).  Riou  was  the  brave  man 
whom  Campbell  immortalised  in  his  fiery  "  Battle 
of  the  Baltic."    Riou  lies 

"  Full  many  a  fathom  deep, 
By  thy  wild  and  stormy  steep, 

Elsinore." 

Then  at  last,  in  1806,  came  a  hero  worthy,  indeed, 
of  such  a  cathedral — Nelson  himself  At  what  a 
moment  had  Nelson  expired !  At  the  close  of  a 
victory  that  had  annihilated  the  fleets  of  France 
and  Spain,  and  secured  to  Britain  the  empire  of 
the  seas.  The  whole  nation  that  day  shed  tears  of 
"  pride  and  of  sorrow,"  The  Prince  of  Wales  and 
all  his  brothers  led  the  procession  of  nearly  8,000 
soldiers,  and  the  chief  mourner  was  Admiral 
Parker  (the  Mutiny  of  the  Nore  Parker).  Nelson's 
coffin  was  formed  out  of  a  njast  of  the  L  Orient — 
a  vessel  blown  up  at  the  battle  of  the  Nile,  and 
presented  to  Nelson  by  his  friend,  the  captain 
of  the  Swiftstire.  The  sarcophagus,  singularly 
enough,  had  been  designed  by  Michael  Angelo's 
contemporary,  Torreguiano,  for  Wolsey,  in  the 
days  of  his  most  insatiable  pride,  and  had  re- 
mained ever  since  in  Wolsey's  chapel  at  Windsor ; 
Nelson's  flag  was  to  have  been  placed  over  the 
coffin,  but  as  it  was  about  to  be  lowered,  the 
sailors  who  had  borne  it,  as  if  by  an  irresistible 
impulse,  stepped  forward  and  tore  it  in  pieces, 
for  relics.  Dean  Milman,  who,  as  a  youth,  was 
present,  says,  "I  heard,  or  fancied  I  heard,  the 
low  wail  of  the  sailors  who  encircled  the  remains  of 
their  admiral."  Nelson's  trusty  companion,  Lord 
CoUingwood,  who  led  the  vanguard  at  Trafalgar, 
sleeps  near  his  old  captain,  and  Lord  Northesk, 
who  led  the  rear-guard,  is  buried  opposite.  A  brass 
plate  on  the  pavement  under  the  dome  marks 
the  spot  of  Nelson's  tomb.  The  monument  to 
Nelson,  inconveniently  placed  at  the  opening  of 
the  choir,  is  "by  one  of  our  greatest  sculptors — 
Flaxman.  It  is  hardly  worthy  of  the  occasion, 
and  the  figures  on  the  pedestal  are  puerile.     Lord 


252 


OLD  AND  NEW   LONDON. 


[St.  Paul's. 


Lyons  is  the  last  admiral  whose  monument  has 
been  erected  in  St.  Paul's. 

The  military  heroes  have  been  contributed  by 
various  wars,  just  and  unjust,  successful  and  the 
reverse.  There  is  that  tough  old  veteran,  Lord 
Heathfield,  who  drove  off  two  angry  nations  from  the 
scorched  rock  of  Gibraltar ;  Sir  Isaac  Brock,  who  fell 
near  Niagara;  Sir  Ralph  Abercromby, who  perished 
in  Egypt;  and  Sir  John  Moore,  who  played  so 
well  a  losing  game  at  Corunna.  Cohorts  of  Welling- 
ton's soldiers  too  lie  in  St.  Paul's — brave  men,  who 


15,000  persons  were  present.  The  impressive 
funeral  procession,  with  the  representatives  of  the 
various  regiments,  and  the  solemn  bursts  of  the 
"  Dead  March  of  Saul "  at  measured  intervals,  can 
never  be  forgotten  by  those  who  were  present. 
The  pall  was  borne  by  the  general  officers  who  had 
fought  by  the  side  of  Wellington,  and  the  cathedral 
was  illuminated  for  the  occasion.  The  service  was 
read  by  Dean  Milman,  who  had  been,  as  we  have 
before  mentioned,  a  spectator  of  Nelson's  funeral. 
So  perfectly  adapted  for  sound  is  St.  Paul's,  that 


THE   REBUILDING  OF  ST.   PAUL's.      FROM   AN   ORIGINAL    DRAWING  IN  THE   POSSESSION   OF  J.  G.  CRACE,    ESQ. 


sacrificed  their  lives  at  Talavera,  Vimiera,  Ciudad 
Rodrigo,  Salamanca,  Vittoria,  and  Bayonne.  Nor 
has  our  proud  and  just  nation  disdained  to  honour 
even  equally  gallant  men  who  were  defeated.  There 
are  monuments  in  St.  Paul's  to  the  vanquished  at 
Bergen-op-Zoom,  New  Orleans,  and  Baltimore. 

That  climax  of  victory,  Waterloo,  brought  Pon- 
sonby  and  Picton  to  St.  Paul's.  Picton  lies  in  the 
vestibule  of  the  Wellington  chapel.  Thirty-seven 
years  after  Waterloo,  in  the  fulness  of  his  years, 
Wellington  was  deservedly  honoured  by  a  tomb  in 
St.  Paul's.  It  was  impossible  to  lay  him  beside 
Nelson,  so  the  eastern  chapel  of  the  crypt  was 
appropriated  for  his  sarcophagus.     From  12,000  to 


though  the  walls  were  muffled  with  black  cloth,  the 
Dean's  voice  could  be  heard  distinctly,  even  up  in 
the  western  gallery.  The  sarcophagus  which  holds 
Wellington's  ashes  is  of  massive  and  imperishable 
Cornish  porphyry,  grand  from  its  perfect  simplicity, 
and  worthy  of  the  man  who,  without  gasconade  or 
theatrical  display,  trod  stedfastly  the  path  of  duty. 

After  Nelson  and  Wellington,  the  lesser  names 
seem  to  dwindle  down.  Yet  among  the  great, 
pure,  and  good,  we  may  mention,  there  are  some 
Crimean  memorials.  There  also  is  the  monument 
of  Cornwallis,  that  good  Governor-General  of  India ; 
those  of  the  two  Napiers,  the  historian  and  the 
conqueror   of   Scinde,    true    knights    both;    that 


St.  Paul's.] 


GENIUS    WORTHILY    ENSHRINED. 


253 


of  Elphinstone,  who  twice  refused  the  dignity  of 
Governor-General  of  India ;  and  that  of  the  saviour 
of  our  Indian  empire,  Sir  Henry  Lawrence.  Nor 
should  we  forget  the  monuments  of  two  Indian 
bishops — the  scholarly  Middleton,  and  the  excellent 
and   lovable  Heber.     There  is  an  unsatisfactory 


monument  in  such  a  place,  is  the  historian  Hallam, 
a  calm,  sometimes  cold,  but  always  impartial  writer. 
In  the  crypt  near  Wren  lie  many  of  our  most 
celebrated  English  artists.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 
died  in  1792,  His  pall  was  borne  by  peers,  and 
upwards  of  a  hundred  carriages  followed  his  hearse. 


THE  CHOIR  OF  ST.  PAUL's  BEFORE  THE  REMOVAL  OF  THE  %C^Y.-E.V.,  from  an  engraving  published  in  1754. 


statue  of  Turner,  by  Bailey;  and  monuments  to 
Dr.  Babington,  a  London  physician,  and  Sir  Astley 
Cooper,  the  great  surgeon.  The  ambitious  monu- 
ment to  Viscount  Melbourne,  the  Queen's  first 
prime  minister,  by  Baron  Marochetti,  stands  in  one 
of  the  alcoves  of  the  nave ;  great  gates  of  black 
marble  represent  the  entrance  to  a  tomb,  guarded 
by  two  angels  of  white  marble  at  the  portals.  More 
worthy  than  the  gay  Melbourne  of  the  honour  of  a 
22 


Near  him  lies  his  successor  as  president,  West,  the 
Quaker  painter ;  courtly  Lawrence  ;  Barry,  whom 
Reynolds  detested;  rough,  clever  Opie ;  Dance; 
and  eccentric  Fuseli.  In  this  goodly  company,  also, 
sleeps  a  greater  than  all  of  these — Joseph  Mallord 
William  Turner,  the  first  landscape  painter  of  the 
world.  He  had  requested,  when  dying,  to  be  buried 
as  near  to  his  old  master,  Reynolds,  as  possible.  It 
is  said  that  Turner,  soured  with  the  world,  had 


354 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[St.  Paul's. 


threatened  to  make  his  shroud  out  of  his  grand 
picture  of  "The  Building  of  Carthage."  In  this 
consecrated  spot  also  rests  Robert  ^Mylne,  the 
builder  of  Blackfriars  Bridge,  and  Mr.  Charles 
Robert  Cockerell,  the  eminent  architect. 

Only  one  robbery  has  occurred  in  modern  times 
in  St.  Paul's.  In  December,  1810,  the  plate  reposi- 
tory of  the  cathedral  was  broken  open  by  thieves, 
with  the  connivance  of,  as  is  supposed,  some  official, 
and  1,761  ounces  of  plate,  valued  at  above  ;^2, 000, 
were  stolen.  The  thieves  broke  open  nine  doors 
to  get  at  the  treasure,  which  was  never  afterwards 
heard  of.  The  spoil  included  the  chased  silver-gilt 
covers  of  the  large  (1640)  Bible,  chalices,  plates, 
tankards,  and  candlesticks. 

The  cathedral,  left  colourless  and  blank  by 
Wren,  has  never  yet  been  finished.  The  Protestant 
choir  remains  in  one  corner,  like  a  dry,  shrivelled 
nut  in  a  large  shell.  Like  the  proud  snail  in  the 
fable,  that  took  possession  of  the  lobster-shell  and 
starved  there,  we  remained  for  more  than  a  century 
complacently  content  with  our  unfurnished  house. 
At  length  our  tardy  zeal  awoke.  In  1858  the 
Bishop  of  London  wrote  to  the  Dean  and  Chapter, 
urging  a  series  of  Sunday  evening  services,  for  the 
benefit  of  the  floating  masses  of  Londoners.  Dean 
Milman  replied,  at  once  warming  to  the  proposal, 
and  suggested  the  decoration  and  completion  of 
SL  Paul's.  The  earnest  appeal  for  "the  noblest 
church,  in  its  style,  of  Christian  Europe,  the  master- 
piece of  Wren,  the  glory  and  pride  of  London," 
was  at  once  responded  to.  A  committee  of  the 
leading  merchants  and  bankers  was  formed,  in- 
cluding those  great  authorities,  Sir  Charles  Barry, 
Mr.  Cockerell,  Mr.  Tite,  and  Mr.  Penrose.  They 
at  once  resolved  to  gladden  the  eye  with  colour, 
without  disturbing  the  solemn  and  harmonious 
simplicity.  Paintings,  mosaics,  marble  and  gilding 
were  requisite;  the  dome  was  to  be  relieved  of 
Thomhill's  lifeless  grisailles;  and  above  all,  stained- 
glass  windows  were  pronounced  indispensable. 

The  dome  had  originally  been  filled  by  Thorn- 
hill  with  eight  scenes  from  the  life  of  St.  Paul.  He 
received  for  them  the  not  very  munificent  but  quite 
adequate  sum  of  40s.  per  square  yard.  They  soon 
began  to  show  symptoms  of  decay,  and  Mr,  Parris, 
the  painter,  invented  an  apparatus  by  which  they 
could  easily  be  repaired,  but  no  funds  could  then  be 
found ;  yet  when  the  paintings  fell  off  in  flakes,  much 
money  and  labour  was  expended  on  the  restoration, 
which  has  now  proved  useless.  Mr.  Penrose  has 
shown  that  so  ignorant  was  Sir  James  of  per- 
spective, that  his  painted  architecture  has  actually 
the  effect  of  making  Wren's  thirty-two  pilasters 
seem  to  lean  forward. 


Much  has  already  been  done  in  St,  Paul's,  Two 
out  of  the  eight  large  spandrel  pictures  round  the 
dome  are  already  executed.  There  are  eventually 
to  be  four  evangelists  and  four  major  prophets. 
Above  the  gilt  rails  of  the  whispering  gallery 
an  inscription  on  a  mosaic  and  gold  ground  has 
been  placed.  A  marble  memorial  pulpit  has  been 
put  up.  The  screen  has  been  removed,  and  the 
organ,  greatly  enlarged  and  improved,  has  been 
divided  into  two  parts,  which  have  been  placed  on 
either  side  of  the  choir,  above  the  stalls ;  the  dome 
is  lighted  with  gas ;  the  golden  galler>-,  ball,  and 
cross  have  been  re-gilt.  The  great  baldachino  is  still 
wanting,  but  nine  stained-glass  windows  have  been 
erected,  and  among  the  donors  have  been  the 
Drapers*  and  Goldsmiths'  Companies;  there  are  also 
memorial  windows  to  the  late  Bishop  Blomfield  and 
^V.  Cotton,  Esq.  The  Grocers',  Merchant  Taylors', 
Goldsmiths',  Mercers,  and  Fishmongers'  Com- 
panies have  generously  gilt  the  vaults  of  the  choir 
and  the  arches  adjoining  the  dome.  Some  fifty 
or  more  windows  still  require  stained  glass.  The 
wall  panels  are  to  be  in  various  places  adorned  with 
inlaid  marbles.  It  is  not  intended  that  St.  Pauli 
should  try  to  rival  St.  Peter's  at  Rome  in  exube- 
rance of  ornament,  but  it  still  requires  a  good  deal 
of  clothing.  The  great  army  of  sable  martyrs  in 
marble  have  been  at  last  washed  white,  and  the 
fire-engines  might  now  advantageously  be  used 
upon  the  exterior. 

A  kvr  figures  about  the  dimensions  of  St,  Paul's 
will  not  be  uninteresting.  The  cathedral  is  2,292 
feet  in  circumference,  and  the  height  from  the  nave 
pavement  to  the  top  of  the  cross  is  365  feet.  The 
height  of  St.  Peter's  at  Rome  being  432  feet,  St. 
Paul's  could  stand  inside  St.  Peter's.  The  western 
towers  are  220  feet  high.  From  east  to  west, 
St,  Paul's  is  500  feet  long,  while  St,  Peter's  is  669 
feet.  The  cupola  is  considered  by  many  as  more 
graceful  than  that  of  St.  Peter's,  "though  in  its 
connection  with  the  church  by  an  order  higher 
than  that  below  it  there  is  a  violation  of  the  laws 
of  the  art."  The  external  appearance  of  St.  Paul's 
rivals,  if  not  excels,  that  of  St.  Peter's,  but  the 
inside  is  much  inferior.  The  double  portico  of 
St.  Paul's  has  been  greatly  censured.  The  commis- 
sioners insisted  on  twelve  columns,  as  emblematical 
of  the  twelve  apostles,  and  Wren  could  not  obtain 
stones  of  sufficient  size ;  but  (as  Mr.  Gwilt  ob- 
serves) it  would  have  been  better  to  have  had 
joined  pillars  rather  than  a  Composite  heaped  on  a 
Corinthian  portico.  In  the  tympanum  is  the  Con- 
version of  St,  Paul,  sculptured  in  high  relief  by 
Bird ;  on  the  apex  is  a  colossal  •  figure  of  St,  Paul, 
and  on  the  right  and  left  are  St.  Peter  and  St. 


St.  Paul's. 


ANECDOTES  AND  FACTS  CONCERNING  ST.  PAUL'S. 


255 


James.  Over  the  southern  portico  is  sculptured 
the  Phoenix ;  over  the  north  are  the  royal  arms 
and  regalia,  while  on  each  side  stand  on  guard  five 
statues  of  the  apostles.  The  ascent  to  the  whisper- 
ing gallery  is  by  260  steps,  to  the  outer  and  highest 
golden  gallery  560  steps,  and  to  the  ball  616  steps. 
The  outer  golden  gallery  is  at  the  summit  of  the 
dome.  The  inner  golden  gallery  is  at  the  base  of 
the  lantern.  Through  this  the  ascent  is  by  ladders 
to  the  small  dome,  immediately  below  the  inverted 
consoles  which  support  the  ball  and  cross.  Ascend- 
ing through  the  cross  iron-work  in  the  centre,  you 
look  into  the  dark  ball,  which  is  said  to  weigh 
5,600  pounds  ;  thence  to  the  cross,  which  weighs 
3,360  pounds,  and  is  30  feet  high.  In  182 1-2  Mr. 
Cockerell  removed  for  a  time  the  ball  and  cross. 

From  the  haunches  of  the  dome,  says  Mr.  Gwilt, 
200  feet  above  the  pavement  of  the  church, 
another  cone  of  brickwork  commences,  85  feet 
high  and  94  feet  diameter  at  the  bottom.  This 
cone  is  pierced  with  apertures,  as  well  for  the 
purpose  of  diminishing  its  weight  as  for  distributing 
the  light  between  it  and  the  outer  dome.  At  the 
top  it  is  gathered  into  a  dome  in  the  form  of  a 
hyperboloid,  pierced  near  the  vertex  with  an  aper- 
ture 1 2  feet  in  diameter.  The  top  of  this  cone  is 
285  feet  from  the  pavement,  and  carries  a  lantern 
55  feet  high,  terminating  in  a  dome  whereon  a  ball 
and  (Aveline)  cross  is  raised.  The  last-named 
cone  is  provided  with  corbels,  sufficient  in  number 
to  receive  the  hammer-beams  of  the  external  dome, 
which  is  of  oak,  and  its  base  220  feet  from  the 
pavement,  its  summit  being  level  with  the  top  of 
the  cone.  In  form  it  is  nearly  hemispherical,  and 
generated  by  radii  57  feet  in  length,  whose  centres 
are  in  a  horizontal  diameter  passing  through  its 
base.  The  cone  and  the  interior  dome  are  re- 
strained in  their  lateral  thrust  on  the  supports  by 
four  tiers  of  strong  iron  chains  (weighing  95  cwt. 
3  qrs.  23  lbs.),  placed  in  grooves  prepared  for  their 
reception,  and  run  with  lead.  The  lowest  of  these 
is  inserted  in  masonry  round  their  common  base, 
and  the  other  three  at  different  heights  on  the 
exterior  of  the  cone.  Over  the  intersection  of  the 
nave  and  transepts  for  the  external  work,  and  for 
a  height  of  25  feet  above  the  roof  of  the  church, 
a  cylindrical  wall  rises,  whose  diameter  is  146  feet. 
Between  it  and  the  lower  conical  wall  is  a  space, 
but  at  intervals  they  are  connected  by  cross-walls. 
This  cylinder  is  quite  plain,  but  perforated  by  two 
courses  of  rectangular  apertures.  On  it  stands  a 
peristyle  of  thirty  columns  of  the  Corinthian  order, 
40  feet  high,  including  bases  and  capitals,  with  a 
plain  entablature  crowned  by  a  balustrade.  In  this 
peristyle  every  fourth  intergplumniation  is  filled  up 


solid,  with  a  niche,  and  connection  is  provided 
between  it  and  the  wall  of  the  lower  cone.  Ver- 
tically over*  the  base  of  that  cone,  above  the  peri- 
style, rises  another  cylindrical  wall,  appearing  above 
the  balustrade.  It  is  ornamented  with  pilasters, 
between  which  are  two  tiers  of  rectangular  windows. 
From  this  wall  the  external  dome  springs.  The 
lantern  receives  no  support  from  it.  It  is  merely 
ornamental,  differing  entirely,  in  that  respect,  from 
the  dome  of  St.  Peter's. 

In  1822  Mr.  Horner  passed  the  summer  in  the 
lantern,  sketching  the  metropolis ;  he  afterwards 
erected  an  observatory  several  feet  higher  than 
the  cross,  and  made  sketches  for  a  panorama  on  a 
surface  of  1,680  feet  of  drawing  paper.  From  these 
sheets  was  painted  a  panorama  of  London  and 
the  environs,  first  exhibited  at  the  Colosseum,  in 
Regent's  Park,  in  1829.  The  view  from  St.  Paul's 
extends  for  twenty  miles  round.  On  the  south 
the  horizon  is  bounded  by  Leith  Hill.  In  high 
winds  the  scaffold  used  to  creak  and  whistle  like  a 
ship  labouring  in  a  storm,  and  once  the  observatory 
was  torn  from  its  lashings  and  turned  partly  over  on 
the  edge  of  the  platform.  The  sight  and  sounds 
of  awaking  London  are  said  to  have  much  impressed 
the  artist. 

On  entering  the  cathedral,  says  Mr.  Horner,  a\, 
three  in  the  morning,  the  stillness  which  then  pre- 
vailed in  the  streets  of  this  populous  city,  con- 
trasted with  their  midday  bustle,  was  only  surpassed 
by  the  more  solemn  and  sepulchral  stillness  of  the 
cathedral  itself.  But  not  less  impressive  was  the 
development  at  that  early  hour  of  the  immense 
scene  from  its  lofty  summit,  whence  was  frequently 
beheld  "  the  forest  of  London,"  without  any  indica- 
tion of  animated  existence.  It  was  interesting  to 
mark  the  gradual  symptoms  of  returning  life,  until 
the  rising  sun  vivified  the  whole  into  activity, 
bustle,  and  business.  On  one  occasion  the  night 
was  passed  in  the  observatory,  for  the  purpose  of 
meeting  the  first  glimpse  of  day ;  but  the  cold  was 
so  intense  as  to  preclude  any  wish  to  repeat  the 
experiment. 

Mr.  Horner,  in  his  narrative,  mentions  a  narrow 
escape  of  Mr.  Gwyn,  while  engaged  in  measuring 
the  top  of  the  dome  for  a  sectional  drawing  he 
was  making  of  the  cathedral.  While  absorbed  in 
his  work  Mr.  Gwyn  slipped  down  the  globular 
surface  of  the  dome  till  his  foot  stopped  on  a 
projecting  lump  of  lead.  In  this  awful  situation, 
like  a  man  hanging  to  the  moon,  he  remained  till 
one  of  his  assistants  providentially  saw  and  rescued 
him. 

The  following  was,  if  possible,  an  even  narrower 
escape  : — When  Sir  James  Thornhill  was  painting 


2S6 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


ISt.  Paul's. 


the  cupola  of  St  Paul's  Cathedral,  a  gentleman  of 
his  acquaintance  was  one  day  with  him  on  the 
scaffolding,  which,  though  wide,  was  not  railed ;  he 
had  just  finished  the  head  of  one  of  the  apostles, 
and  running  back,  as  is  usual  with  painters,  to 
observe  the  effect,  had  almost  reached  the  ex- 
tremity ;  the  gentleman,  seeing  his  danger,  and  not 
having  time  for  words,  snatched  up  a  large  brush 
and  smeared  the  face.  Sir  James  ran  hastily  for- 
ward, crj'ing  out,  '•  Bless  my  soul,  what  have  you 
done  ?"  '*  I  have  only  saved  your  life  !"  responded 
his  friend. 

Sir  James  Thomhill  was  the  son  of  a  reduced 
Dorsetshire  gentleman.  His  uncle,  the  well-known 
physician,  Dr.  Sydenham,  helped  to  educate  him. 
He  travelled  to  see  the  old  masters,  and  on  his 
return  Queen  Anne  appointed  him  to  paint  the 
dome  of  St.  Paul's.  He  was  considered  to  have 
executed  the  work,  in  the  eight  panels,  *'  in  a  noble 
manner."  "  He  afterwards,"  says  Pilkington,  *'  exe- 
cuted several  public  works — painting,  at  Hampton 
Court,  the  Queen  and  Prince  George  of  Denmark, 
allegorically ;  and  in  the  chapel  of  All  Souls,  Oxford, 
the  portrait  of  the  founder,  over  the  altar  the  ceiling, 
and  figures  between  the  windows.  His  masterpiece 
is  the  refectory  and  saloon  at  Greenwich  Hospital. 
He  was  knighted  by  George  H.  He  died  May  4, 
1734,  leaving  a  son,  John,  who  became  serjeant 
painter  to  the  king,  and  a  daughter,  who  married 
Hogarth.  He  was  a  well-made  and  pleasant  man, 
and  sat  in  Parliament  for  some  years." 

The  cathedral  was  artificially  secured  from 
lightning,  according  to  the  suggestion  of  the  Royal 
Society,  in  1769.  The  seven  iron  scrolls  sup- 
porting the  ball  and  cross  are  connected  with  other 
rods  (used  merely  as  conductors),  which  unite  them 
with  several  large  bars  descending  obliquely  to  the 
stone-work  of  the  lantern,  and  connected  by  an 
iron  ring  with  four  other  iron  bars  to  the  lead 
covering  of  the  great  cupola,  a  distance  of  forty- 
eight  feet ;  thence  the  communication  is  continued 
by  the  rain-water  pipes,  which  pass  into  the  earth, 
thus  completing  the  entire  communication  from 
the  cross  to  the  ground,  partly  through  iron  and 
partly  through  lead.  On  the  clock-tower  a  bar  of 
iron  connects  the  pine-apple  on  the  top  with  the 
iron  staircase,  and  thence  with  the  lead  on  the 
roof  of  the  church.  The  bell-tower  is  similarly 
protected.  By  these  means  the  metal  used  in  the 
building  is  made  available  as  conductors,  the  metal 
employed  merely  for  that  purpose  being  exceedingly 
small  in  quantity. 

In  1 841  the  exterior  of  the  dome  was  repaired 
by  workmen  resting  upon  a  shifting  iron  frame. 
In  1848  a  scaffold  and  observatory,  as  shown  on 


page  258,  were  raised  round  the  cross,  and  in  three 
months  some  four  thousand  observations  were  made 
for  a  new  trigonometrical  survey  of  London. 

Harting,  in  his  "  Birds  of  Middlesex,"  mentions 
the  peregrine  fiilcons  of  St.  Paul's.  "A  pair  of 
these  birds,"  he  says,  "  for  many  years  frequented 
the  top  of  St.  Paul's,  where  it  was  supposed  they 
had  a  nest ;  and  a  gentleman  with  whom  I  am 
acquainted  has  assured  me  that  a  friend  of  his 
once  saw  a  peregrine  strike  down  a  pigeon  in 
London,  his  attention  having  been  first  attracted 
by  seeing  a  crowd  of  persons  gazing  upwards  at 
the  hawk  as  it  sailed  in  circles  over  the  houses." 
A  pair  frequenting  the  buildings  at  Westminster 
is  referred  to  in  "  Annals  of  an  Eventful  Life/' 
by  G.  W.  Dasent,  D.C.L. 

A  few  nooks  and  corners  of  the  cathedral  have 
still  escaped  us.  The  library  in  the  gallery  over 
the  southern  aisle  was  formed  by  Bishop  Compton, 
and  consists  of  some  7,000  volumes,  including 
some  manuscripts  from  old  St.  Paul's.  The  room 
contains  some  loosely  hung  flowers,  exquisitely 
carved  in  wood  by  Grinling  Gibbons,  and  the 
floor  is  composed  of  2,300  pieces  of  oak,  inlaid 
without  nails  or  pegs.  At  the  end  of  the  gallery 
is  a  geometrical  staircase  of  no  steps,  which  was 
constructed  by  Wren  to  furnish  a  private  access 
to  the  library.  In  crossing  thence  to  the  northern 
gallery,  there  is  a  fine  view  of  the  entire  vista  of 
the  cathedral.  The  model-room  used  to  contain 
Wren's  first  design,  and  some  tattered  flags  once- 
hung  beneath  the  dome.  Wren's  noble  model, 
we  regret  to  learn,  is  "a  ruin,  after  one  hundred 
and  forty  years  of  neglect,"  the  funds  being 
insufficient  for  its  repair.  A  staircase  from  the 
southern  gallery  leads  to  the  south-western  cam- 
panile tower,  in  which  is  the  clock-room.  Tlie 
clock,  which  cost  ;^3oo,  was  made  by  Langley 
Bradley  in  1708.  The  minute-hands  are  9  feet 
8  inches  long,  and  weigh  75  pounds  each.  The 
pendulum  is  16  feet  long,  and  the  bob  weighs  180 
pounds,  and  yet  is  suspended  by  a  spring  no  thicker 
than  a  shilling.  The  clock  goes  eight  days,  and 
strikes  the  hours  on  the  great  bell,  the  clapper  of 
which  weighs  180  pounds.  Below  the  great  bell 
are  two  smaller  bells,  on  which  the  clock  strikes  the 
quarters.  In  the  northern  tower  is  the  bell  that 
tolls  for  prayers.  Mr.  E.  B.  Denison  pronounced 
the  St.  Paul's  bell,  although  the  smallest,  as  by 
far  the  best  of  the  four  large  bells  of  England — 
York,  Lincoln,  and  Oxford  being  the  other  three. 

The  great  bell  of  St.  Paul's  (about 'five  tons)  has 
a  diameter  of  nine  feet,  and  weighs  11,474  pounds. 
It  was  cast  from  the  metal  of  Great  Tom  (Ton), 
a  bell  that  once  hung  in  a  clock  tower  opposite 


St.  Paul's.] 


A    SINGULAR    CASE    OF    DIABLERIE. 


257 


Westminster  Hall.  It  was  given  away  in  1698 
by  William  III.,  and  bought  for  St.  Paul's  for 
jCs^S  17s-  ^^-  It  was  re-cast  in  17 16.  The  key- 
note (tonic)  or  sound  of  this  bell  is  A  flat — perhaps 
A  natural — of  the  old  pitch.  It  is  never  tolled 
but  at  the  death  or  funeral  of  any  of  the  Royal 
Family,  the  Bishop  of  London,  the  Dean,  or  the 
Lord  Mayor,  should  he  die  during  his  mayoralty. 

It  was  not  this  bell,  but  the  Westminster  Great 
Tom,  which  the  sentinel  on  duty  during  the  reign 
of  William  III.  declared  he  heard  strike  thirteen 
instead  of  twelve  at  midnight ;  and  the  truth  of 
the  fact  was  deposed  to  by  several  persons,  and 
the  life  of  the  poor  soldier,  sentenced  to  death  for 
having  fallen  asleep  upon  his  post,  was  thus  saved. 
The  man's  name  was  Hatfield.  He  died  in  1770 
in  Aldersgate,  aged  102  years. 

Before  the  time  of  the  present  St.  Paul's,  and  as 
long  ago  as  the  reign  of  Henry  VII.,  there  is  on 
record  a  well-attested  story  of  a  young  girl  who, 
going  to  confess,  was  importuned  by  the  monk 
then  on  his  turn  there  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
fession in  the  building ;  and  quickly  escaping  from 
him  up  the  stairs  of  the  great  clock  tower,  raised 
the  clapper  or  hammer  of  the  bell  of  the  clock,  just 
as  it  had  finished  striking  twelve,  and,  by  means  of 
the  roof,  eluded  her  assailant  and  got  away.  On 
accusing  him,  as  soon  as  she  reached  her  friends 
and  home,  she  called  attention  to  the  fact  of  the 
clock  having  struck  thirteen  that  time ;  and  on 
those  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  the 
cathedral  being  asked  if  so  unusual  a  thing  had 
been  heard,  they  said  it  was  so.  This  proved  the 
story,  and  the  monk  was  degraded. 

And  here  we  must  insert  a  curious  story  of  a 
monomaniac  whose  madness  was  associated  with 
St.  Paul's.  Dr.  Pritchard,  in  an  essay  on  "Som- 
nambulism and  Animal  Magnetism,"  in  the  "  Cyclo- 
poadia  of  Medicine,"  gives  the  following  remarkable 
case  of  ecstasis  : — 

A  gentleman  about  thirty-five  years  of  age,  of 
active  habits  and  good  constitution,  living  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  London,  had  complained  for 
about  five  weeks  of  a  slight  headache.  He  was 
feverish,  inattentive  to  his  occupation,  and  negli- 
gent ©f  his  family.  He  had  been  cupped,  and 
taken  some  purgative  medicine,  when  he  was  risited 
by  Dr.  Arnould,  of  Camberwell.  By  that  gentle- 
man's advice,  he  was  sent  to  a  private  asylum,  where 
he  remained  about  two  years.  His  delusions  very 
gradually  subsided,  and  he  was  afterwards  restored 
to  his  family.  The  account  which  he  gave  of  fiim- 
self  was,  almost  trrlxitim,  as  follows : — One  after- 
noon in  the  month  of  May,  feeling  himself  a 
little  unsettled,  and  not   inclined  to  business,  he 


thought  he  would  take  a  walk  into  the  City  to 
amuse  his  mind;  and  having  strolled  into  St. 
Paul's  Churchyard,  he  stopped  at  the  shop-window 
of  Carrington  and  Bowles,  and  looked  at  the 
pictures,  among  which  was  one  of  the  cathedral. 
He  had  not  been  long  there  before  a  short,  grave- 
looking,  elderly  gentleman,  dressed  in  dark  brown 
clothes,  came  up  and  began  to  examine  the  prints, 
and,  occasionally  casting  a  glance  at  him,  very 
soon  entered  into  conversation  with  him ;  and, 
praising  the  view  of  St.  Paul's  which  was  exhibited 
at  the  window,  told  him  many  anecdotes  of  Sir 
Christopher  Wren,  the  architect,  and  asked  him  at 
the  same  time  if  he  had,,  ever  ascended  to  the  top 
of  the  dome.  He  replied  in  the  negative.  The 
stranger  then  inquired  if  he  had  dined,  and  pro- 
posed that  they  should  go  to  an  eating-house  in 
the  neighbourhood,  and  said  that  after  dinner  he 
would  accompany  him  up  St.  Paul's.  "  It  was  a 
glorious  afternoon  for  a  view,  and  he  was  so 
familiar  with  the  place  that  he  could  point  out 
every  object  worthy  of  attention."  The  kindness 
of  the  old  gentleman's  manner  induced  him  to 
comply  with  the  invitation,  and  they  went  to  a 
tavern  in  some  dark  alley,  the  name  of  which  he 
did  not  know.  They  dined,  and  very  soon  left  the 
table  and  ascended  to  the  ball,  just  below  the 
cross,  which  they  entered  alone.  They  had  not! 
been  there  many  minutes  wlien,  while  he  was 
gazing  on  the  extensive  prospect,  and  delighted 
with  the  splendid  scene  below  him,  the  grave 
gentleman  pulled  out  from  an  inside  coat-pocket 
something  resembling  a  compass,  having  round 
the  edges  some  curious  figures.  Then,  having 
muttered  some  unintelligible  words,  he  placed  it 
in  the  centre  of  the  ball.  He  felt  a  great  trembling 
and  a  sort  of  horror  come  over  him,  which  was 
increased  by  his  companion  asking  him  if  he 
should  like  to  see  any  friend  at  a  distance,  and  to 
know  what  he  was  at  that  moment  doing,  for  if  so 
the  latter  could  show  him  any  such  person.  It 
happened  that  his  father  had  been  for  a  long 
time  in  bad  health,  and  for  some  weeks  past  he 
had  not  visited  him.  A  sudden  thought  came 
into  his  mind,  so  powerful  that  it  overcame  his 
terror,  that  he  should  like  to  see  his  father.  He 
had  no  sooner  expressed  the  wish  than  the  exact 
person  of  his  father  was  immediately  presented 
to  his  sight  in  the  mirror,  reclining  in  his  arm- 
chair and  taking  his  afternoon  sleep.  Not  having 
fully  believed  in  the  power  of  the  stranger  to 
make  good  his  offer,  he  became  overwhelmed 
with  terror  at  the  clearness  and  truth  of  the  vision 
presented  to  him,  and  he  entreated  his  mysterious 
companion  that  they  might  immediately  descend, 


258 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[St.  Paul's. 


as  he  felt  very  ill.  The  request  was  complied 
with,  and  on  parting  under  the  portico  of  the 
northern  entrance  the  stranger  said  to  him,  "  Re- 
member, you  are  the  slave  of  the  Man  of  the 
Mirror ! "  He  returned  in  the  evening  to  his 
home,  he  does  not  know  exactly  at  what  hour; 


there  is  no  concealment  from  him,  for  all  places 
are  alike  open  to  him ;  he  sees  us  and  he  hears 
us  now.'  I  asked  him  where  this  being  was  who 
saw  and  heard  us.  He  replied,  in  a  voice  of  deep 
agitation,  *  Have  I  not  told  you  that  he  lives  in  the 
ball  below  the  cross  on  the  top  of  St.  Paul's,  and 


THE  SCAFFOLDING  AND  OBSERVATORY  ON   ST.    PAUL'S   IN    1848   {see  page  256). 


felt  himself  unquiet,  depressed,  gloomy,  apprehen- 
sive, and  haunted  with  thoughts  of  the  stranger. 
For  the  last  three  months  he  has  been  conscious 
of  the  power  of  the  latter  over  him.  Dr.  Amould 
adds  : — "  I  inquired  in  what  way  his  power  was 
exercised.  He  cast  on  me  a  look  of  suspicion, 
mingled  with  confidence,  took  my  arm,  and  after 
leading  me  through  two  or  three  rooms,  and  then 
into   the    garden,  exclaimed,    *  It  is    of  no  use ; 


that  he  only  comes  down  to  take  a  walk  in  the 
churchyard  and  get  his  dinner  at  the  house  in  the 
dark  alley?  Since  that  fatal  interview  with  the 
necromancer,'  he  continued,  'for  such  I  believe 
him  to  be,  he  is  continually  dragging  me  before 
him  on  his  mirror,  and  he  not  only  sees  me  every 
moment  of  the  day,  but  he  reads  all  my  thoughts, 
and  I -have  a  dreadful  consciousness  that  no  action 
of  my  life  is  free  from  his  inspection,  and  no  place 


St.  Paul's] 


THE   "SLAVE  OF  THE  MAN   OF  THE  MIRROR." 


259 


i6o 


OLD  ANt)    NEW    LONDOJ^. 


[St.  PauVs. 


can  afiford  me  security  from  his  power.'  On  my 
replying  that  the  darkness  of  the  night  would 
afford  him  protection  from  these  machinations,  he 
said,  *  I  know  what  you  mean,  but  you  are  quite 
mistaken.  I  have  only  told  you  of  the  mirror ; 
but  in  some  part  of  the  building  which  we  passed 
in  coming  away,  he  showed  me  what  he  called  a 
great  bell,  and  I  heard  sounds  which  came  from 
it,  and  which  went  to  it — sounds  of  laughter,  and 
of  anger,  and  of  pain.  There  was  a  dreadful  con- 
fusion of  sounds,  and  as  I  listened,  with  wonder 
and  affright,  he  said,  '  This  is  my  organ  of  hearing ; 
this  great  bell  is  in  communication  with  all  other 
bells  within  the  circle  of  hieroglyphics,  by  which 
every  word  spoken  by  those  under  mjr  command  is 
made  audible  to  me.'  Seeing  me  look  surprised 
at  him,  he  said,  *  I  have  not  yet  told  you  all,  for  he 
practises  his  spells  by  hieroglyphics  on  walls  and 
houses,  and  wields  his  power,  like  a  detestable 
tyrant,  as  he  is,  over  the  minds  of  those  whom  he 
has  enchanted,  and  who  are  the  objects  of  his  con- 
stant spite,  within  the  circle  of  the  hieroglyphics.' 
I  asked  him  what  these  hieroglyphics  were,  and 
how  he  perceived  them.  He  replied,  *  Signs  and 
symbols  which  you,  in  your  ignorance  of  their  true 
meaning,  have  taken  for  letters  and  words,  and 
read,  as  you  have  thought,  "  Day  and  Martin's  and 
Warren's  blacking." '  *  Oh  !  that  is  all  nonsense  ! ' 
*  They  are  only  the  mysterious  characters  which  he 
traces  to  mark  the  boundary  of  his  dominion,  and 
by  which  he  prevents  all  escape  from  his  tremendous 
power.  How  have  I  toiled  and  laboured  to  get 
beyond  the  limit  of  his  influence  I  Once  I  walked 
for  three  days  and  three  nights,  till  I  fell  down 
under  a  wall,  exhausted  by  fatigue,  and  dropped 
asleep  ;  but  on  awakening  I  saw  the  dreadful  signs 
before  mine  eyes,  and  I  felt  myself  as  completely 
under  his  infernal  spells  at  the  end  as  at  the  begin- 
ning of  my  journey.' " 

It  is  probable  that  this  gentleman  had  actually 
ascended  to  the  top  of  St.  Paul's,  and  that  impres- 
sions there  received,  being  afterwards  renewed  in 
his  mind  when  in  a  state  of  vivid  excitement,  in  a 
dream  of  ecstatic  reverie,  became  so  blended  with 
the  creations  of  fancy  as  to  form  one  mysterious 
vision,  in  which  the  true  and  the  imaginary  were 
afterwards  inseparable.  Such,  at  least,  is  the  best 
explanation  of  the  phenomena  which  occurs  to  us. 

In  1855  the  fees  for  seeing  St.  Paul's  completely 
were  4s.  4d.  each  person.  In  1847  the  mere  two- 
pences  paid  to  see  the  forty  monuments  produced 
the  four  vergers  the  sum  of  ;^43o  3s.  8d.  These 
exorbitant  fees  originated  in  the  "  stairs-foot  money  " 
started  by  Jennings,  the  carpenter,  in  1 707,  as  a  fund 
for  the  injured  during  the  building  of  the  cathedral. 


The  staff  of  the  cathedral  consists  of  the  dean, 
the  precentor,  the  chancellor,  the  treasurer,  the  five 
archdeacons  of  London,  Middlesex,  Essex,  Col- 
chester, and  St.  Albans,  thirty  major  canons  or 
prebendaries  (four  of  whom  are  resident),  twelve 
minor  canons,  and  six  vicars-choral,  besides  the 
choristers.  One  of  the  vicars-choral  officiates  as 
organist,  and  three  of  the  minor  canons  hold  the 
appointments  of  sub-dean,  librarian,  and  succentor, 
or  under-precentor. 

Three  of  the  most  celebrated  men  connected 
with  St.  Paul's  in  the  last  century  have  been  Mil- 
man,  Sydney  Smith,  and  Barham  (the  author  of 
"Ingoldsby  Legends").  Smith  and  Barham  both 
died  in  1845. 

Of  Sydney  Smith's  connection  with  St.  Paul's 
we  have  many  interesting  records.  One  of  the 
first  things  Lord  Grey  said  on  entering  Downing 
Street,  to  a  relation  who  was  with  him,  was,  "  Now 
I  shall  be  able  to  do  something  for  Sydney  Smith," 
and  shortly  after  he  was  appointed  by  the  Premier 
to  a  prebendal  stall  at  St.  Paul's,  in  exchange  for 
the  one  he  held  at  Bristol. 

Mr.  Cockerell,  the  architect,  and  superintendent 
of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  in  a  letter  printed  in  Lady 
Holland's  "  Memoir,"  describes  the  ^esfa  of  the 
canon  residentiary  ;  how  his  early  communications 
with  himself  (Mr.  C.)  and  all  the  officers  of  the 
chapter  were  extremely  unpleasant ;  but  when  the 
canon  had  investigated  the  matter,  and  tliere  had 
been  "  a  little  collision,"  nothing  could  be  more 
candid  and  kind  than  his  subsequent  treatment. 
He  examined  the  prices  of  all  the  materials  used 
in  the  repairs  of  the  cathedral — as  Portland  stone, 
putty,  and  white  lead  ;  every  item  was  taxed,  pay- 
ments were  examined,  and  nothing  new  could  be 
undertaken  without  his  survey  and  personal  super- 
intendence. He  surveyed  the  pinnacles  and 
heights  of  the  sacred  edifice ;  and  once,  when  it 
was  feared  he  might  stick  fast  in  a  narrow  opening 
of  the  western  towers,  he  declared  that  "  if  there 
were  six  inches  of  space  there  would  be  room 
enough  for  him."  The  insurance  of  the  magni- 
ficent cathedral,  Mr.  Cockerell  tells  us,  engaged 
his  early  attention;  St.  Paul's  was  speedily  and 
effectually  insured  in  some  of  the  most  substantial 
offices  in  London.  Not  satisfied  with  this  security, 
he  advised  the  introduction  of  the  mains  of  the 
New  River  into  the  lower  parts  of  the  fabric,  and 
cisterns  and  movable  engines  in  the  roof;  and 
quite  justifiable  was  his  joke,  that  "  he  would  re- 
produce the  Deluge  in  our  cathedral." 

He  had  also  the  library  heated  by  a  stove,  so  as 
to  be  more  comfortable  to  the  studious  ;  and  the 
bindings  of  the  books  were  repaired.     Lastly,  Mr. 


St.  Paul's.) 


THE  POETS  ON  ST.   PAUL'S. 


261 


Smith  materially  assisted  the  progress  of  a  suit  in 
Chancery,  by  the  suGcessful  result  of  which  a  con- 
siderable addition  was  made  to  the  fabric  fund. 

It  is  very  gratifying  to  read  these  circumstantial 
records  of  the  practical  qualities  of  Mr.  Sydney 
Smith,  as  applied  to  the  preservation  of  our  magni- 
ficent metropolitan  cathedral. 

Before  we  leave  Mr.  Smith  we  may  record  an 
odd  story  of  Lady  B.  calling  the  vergers  "  virgins." 
She  asked  Mr.  Smith,  one  day,  if  it  was  true  that  he 
walked  down  St.  Paul's  with  three  virgins  holding 
silver  pokers  before  him.  He  shook  his  head  and 
looked  very  grave,  and  bade  her  come  and  see. 
"  Some  enemy  of  the  Church,"  he  said,  "  some 
Dissenter,  had  clearly  been  misleading  her." 
■  Let  us  recapitulate  a  few  of  the  English  poets 
who  have  made  special  allusions  to  St.  Paul's  in 
their  writings,  Denham  says  of  the  restoration  of 
St.  Paul's,  began  by  Charles  I. : — 

"  First  salutes  the  place, 
Crowned  with  that  sacred  pile,  so  vast,  so  high, 
That  whether  'tis  a  part  of  earth  or  sky 
Uncertain  seems,  and  may  be  thought  a  proud 
Aspiring  mountain  or  descending  cloud. 
Paul's,  the  late  theme  of  such  a  muse,  whose  flight 
Has  bravely  reached  and  soared  above  thy  height, 
Now  shalt  thou  stand,  though  sword,  or  time,  or  fire, 
Or  zeal  more  fierce  than  they,  thy  fall  conspire  ; 
Secure,  while  thee  the  best  of  poets  sings, 
Preserved  from  niin  by  the  best  of  kings." 

Byron,  in  the  Tenth  Canto  of  "  Don  Juan,"  treats 
St.  Paul's  contemptuously — sneering,  as  was  his 
affectation,  at  everything,  human  or  divine ; — 

"A  mighty  mass  of  brick,  and  smoke,  and  shipping. 

Dirty  and  dusky,  but  as  wide  as  eye 
Could  reach,  with  here  and  there  a  sail  just  skipping 

In  sight,  then  lost  amidst  the  forestry 
Of  masts  ;  a  wilderness  of  steeples  peeping 

On  tiptoe  through  their  sea-coal  canopy; 
A  huge,  dim  cupola,  like  a  foolscap  crown 
On  a  fool's  head — and  there  is  London  Town  !" 

Among  other  English  poets  who  have  sung  of 
St.  Paul's,  we  must  not  forget  Tom  Hood,  with  his 
delightfully  absurd  ode,  written  on  the  cross,  and 
full  of  most  wise  folly  : — 

"  The  man  that  pays  his  pence  and  goes 
Up  to  thy  lofty  cross,  St.  Paul's, 
Looks  over  London's  naked  nose, 
Women  and  men ; 
The  world  is  all  beneath  his  ken  ; 
He  sits  above  the  ball, 
He  seems  on  Mount  Olympus'  top. 
Among  the  gods,  by  Jupiter  !  and  lets  drop 
His  eyes  from  the  empyreal  clouds 
On  mortal  crowds. 

"  Seen  from  these  skies. 
How  small  those  emmets  in  our  eyes  I 


Some  carry  little  sticks,  and  one 
His  eggs,  to  warm  them  in  the  sun  ; 
Dear,  what  a  hustle 
And  bustle  ! 
And  there's  my  aunt !    I  know  her  by  her  waist, 
So  long  .md  thin. 
And  so  pinch'd  in. 
Just  in  the  pismire  taste. 

"  Oh,  what  are  men  I    Beings  so  small 
That,  should  I  fall. 
Upon  their  little  heads,  I  must 
Crush  them  by  hundreds  into  dust. 

"  And  what  is  life  and  all  its  ages  ! 
There's  seven  stages  ! 
Tumham  Green !  Chelsea  !  Putney  I  Fulham ! 
Brentford  and  Kew ! 
And  Tooting,  too ! 
And,  oh,  what  very  little  nags  to  pull  'era  ! 
Yet  each  would  seem  a  horse  indeed, 

If  here  at  Paul's  tip-top  we'd  got  'em  ! 
Although,  like  Cinderella's  breed, 

They're  mice  at  bottom. 
Then  let  me  not  despise  a  horse, 
Though  he  looks  small  from  Paul's  liigh  cross  j 
Since  he  would  be,  as  near  the  sky, 
Fourteen  hands  high. 

"  What  is  this  world  with  London  in  its  lap? 

Mogg's  map. 
The  Thames  that  ebbs  and  flows  in  its  broad  channel  ? 

A  tidy  kennel  ! 
The  bridges  stretching  from  its  banks  ? 

Stone  planks. 
Oh,  nie  !     Hence  could  I  read  an  admonition 

To  mad  Ambition  ! 
But  that  he  would  not  listen  to  my  call, 
Though  I  should  stand  upon  the  cross,  and  ball !" 

We  can  hardly  close  our  account  of  St.  Paul's 
without  referring  to  that  most  beautiful  and  touch- 
ing of  all  London  sights,  the  anniversary  of  the 
charity  schools  on  the  first  Thursday  in  June. 
About  8,000  children  are  generally  present,  ranged 
in  a  vast  amphitheatre  under  the  dome.  Blake, 
the  true  but  unrecognised  predecessor  of  Words- 
worth, has  written  an  exquisite  little  poem  on  the 
scene,  and  well  it  deserves  it.  Such  nosegays  of 
little  rosy  faces  can  be  seen  on  no  other  day. 
Very  grand  and  overwhelming  are  the  beadles  of  St. 
Mary  Axe  and  St.  Margaret  Moses  on  this  tremen- 
dous morning,  and  no  young  ensign  ever  bore  his 
colours  prouder  than  do  these  good-natured  dig- 
nitaries their  maces,  staves,  and  ponderous  badges. 
In  endless  ranks  pour  in  the  children,  clothed 
in  all  sorts  of  quaint  dresses.  Boys  in  the  knee- 
breeches  of  Hogarth's  school-days,  bearing  glit- 
tering pewter  badges  on  their  coats  ;  girls  in  blue 
and  orange,  with  quaint  little  mob-caps  white  as 
snow,  and  long  white  gloves  covering  all  their  little 
arms.    See,  at  a  given  signal  of  an  extraordinary 


262 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[St.  Paul's  Churchyard. 


fugleman,  how  they  all  rise ;  at  another  signal  how 
they  hustle  down.  Then  at  last,  when  the  "  Old 
Hundredth "  begins,  all  the  little  voices  unite  as 
the  blending  of  many  waters.  Such  fresh,  happy 
voices,  singing  with  such  innocent,  heedful  tender- 
ness as  would  bring  tears  to  the  eyes  of  even  stony- 
hearted old  Malthus,  bring  to  the  most  irreligious 
thoughts  of  Him  who  bade  little  children  come  to 
Him,  and  would  not  have  them  repulsed. 
Blake's  poem  begins — 

"  'Twas  on  a  Holy  Thursday,  their  innocent  faces  clean, 
Came  children  walking  two  and  two,  in  red  and  blue  and 

green  ; 
Grey-headed  beadles  walked  before,  with  wands  as  white  as 

snow, 
Till  into  the  high  dome  of  Paul's  they  like  Thames'  waters 

flow. 

•'Oh,   what  a  multitude   they  seemed,   those  flowers   of 

London  town  ; 
Seated  in  companies  they  were,  with  radiance  all  their  own  ; 


The  hum  of  multitudes  was  there,  but  multitudes  of  lambs, 
Thousands  of  little  boys  and  girls,  raising  their  innocent  hands. 

"  Now  like  a  mighty  wind  they  raise  to  heaven  the  voice  of 

song. 
Or  like  harmonious  thunderings  the  seats  of  heaven  among  ; 
Beneath  them  sit  the  aged  men,  wise  guardians  of  the  poor  ; 
Then  cherish  pity,  lest  you  di've  an  angel  from  your  door." 

The  anniversary  Festival  of  the  Sons  of  the  Clergy, 
in  the  middle  of  May,  when  the  choirs  of  West- 
minster and  the  Chapel  Royal  sing  selections  from 
Handel  and  other  great  masters,  is  also  a  day  not 
easily  to  be  forgotten,  for  St.  Paul's  is  excellent  for 
sound,  and  the  fine  music  rises  like  incense  to  the 
dome,  and  lingers  there  as  "  loth  to  die,"  arousing 
thoughts  that,  as  Wordsworth  beautifully  says,  are  in 
themselves  proofs  of  our  immortality.  It  is  on  such 
occasions  we  feel  how  great  a  genius  reared  St. 
Paul's,  and  cry  out  with  the  poet — 

*'  He  thought  not  of  a  perishable  home 
Who  thus  could  build." 


CHAPTER    XXn. 
ST.   PAUL'S    CHURCHYARD. 

St  Paul's  Churchyard  and  Literature— Queen  Anne's  Statue— Execution  of  a  Jesuit  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard— Miracle  of  the  "  Face  in  the 
Straw'" — Wilkinson's  Story— Newbery  the  Bookseller — Paul's  Chain — "Cocker" — Chapter  House  of  St.  Paul's— St.  Paul's  Coffee  House- 
Child's  Coffee  House  and  the  Clergy — Garrick's  Club  at  the  "  Queen's  Arms,"  and  the  Company  there — "  Sir  Benjamin  "  Figgins — Johnson 
the  Bookseller — Hunter  and  his  Guests — Fuseli — Ronnycastle — Kinnaird — Musical  Associations  of  the  Churchyard — Jeremiah  .Clark  and 
his  Works — Handel  at  Meares' Shop — Young  the  Violin-maker— The  "  Castle  "  Concerts — An  Old  Advertisement — Wren  at  the  "Goose 
and  Gridiron" — St.  Paul's  School— Famous  Paulines— Pepys  visiting  his  Old  School— Milton  at  St.  Paul's. 


The  shape  of  St.  Paul's  Churchyard  has  been 
compared  to  that  of  a  bow  and  a  string.  The 
south  side  is  the  bow,  the  north  the  string.  The 
booksellers  overflowing  from  Fleet  Street  mustered 
strong  here,  till  the  Fire  scared  them  off  to  Little 
Britain,  from  whence  they  regurgitated  to  the  Row. 
At  the  sign  of  the  "White  Greyhound"  the  first 
editions  of  Shakespeare's  "  Venus  and  Adonis " 
and  "  The  Rape  of  Lucrece,"  the  first-fruits  of  a 
great  harvest,  were  published  by  John  Harrison. 
At  the  "  Flower  de  Luce"  and  the  "  Crown"  ap- 
peared the  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor;  at  the 
"  Green  Dragon,"  in  the  same  locality,  the  Merchant 
of  Venice;  at  the  "Fox,"  Richard  II.;  at  the 
"  Angel,"  mchard  III  ;  at  the  "  Gun,"  Titus  An- 
dronicus;  and  at  the  "Red  Bull,"  that  masterpiece, 
King  Lear.  So  that  in  this  area  near  the  Row  the 
great  poet  must  have  paced  with  his  first  proofs  in 
his  doublet-pocket,  wondering  whether  he  should 
ever  rival  Spenser,  or  become  immortal,  like 
Chaucer.    Here  he  must  have  come  smiling  over 


Falstaff's  perils,  and  here  have  walked  with  the 
ripened  certainty  of  greatness  and  of  fanie  stirring 
at  his  heart. 

The  ground-plot  of  the  Cathedral  is  2  acres  16 
perches  70  feet.  The  western  area  of  the  church- 
yard marks  the  site  of  St.  Gregory's  Church.  On 
the  mean  statue  of  Queen  Anne  a  scurrilous  epi- 
gram was  once  written  by  some  ribald  Jacobite, 
who  spoke  of  the  queen — 

"  With  her  face  to  the  brandy-shop  and  her  back  to  the 
church." 

The  precinct  wall  of  St.  Paul's  first  ran  from  Ave 
Maria  Lane  eastward  along  Paternoster  Row  to 
the  old  Exchange,  Cheapside,  and  then  southwards 
to  Carter  Lane,  at  the  end  of  which  it  turned  to 
Ludgate  Archway.  In  the  reign  of  Edward  II.  the 
Dean  and  Chapter,  finding  the  precinct  a  resort  of 
thieves  and  courtesans,  rebuilt  and  purified  it. 
Within,  at  the  north-west  corner,  stood  the  bishop's 
palace,  beyond  which,  eastward,  was  Pardon  Church- 
yard and  Becket  Chapel,  rebuilt  with  a  stately 


St.  Paul's  Churchyard.]     AN   EXECUTION   IN    ST.   PAUL'S  CHURCHYARD. 


263 


cloister  in  the  reign  of  Henry  V.  On  the  walls  of 
this  cloister,  pulled  down  by  the  greedy  Protector 
Somerset  (Edward  VI.),  was  painted  one  of  those 
grim  Dances  of  Death  which  Holbein  at  last  carried 
to  perfection.  The  cloister  was  full  of  monuments, 
and  above  was  a  library.  In  an  enclosure  east 
of  this  stood  the  College  of  Minor  Canons;  and 
at  Canon  Alley,  east,  was  a  burial  chapel  called 
the  Charnel,  from  whence  Somerset  sent  cart-loads 
of  bones  to  Finsbury  Fields.  East  of  Canon  Alley 
stood  Paul's  Cross,  where  open-air  sermons  were 
preached  to  the  citizens,  and  often  to  the  reigning 
monarch.  East  of  it  rose  St.  Paul's  School  and 
a  belfrey  tower,  in  which  hung  the  famous  Jesus 
bells,  won  at  dice  by  Sir  Giles  Partridge  from  that 
Ahab  of  England,  Henry  VIII.  On  the  south  side 
stood  the  Dean  and  Chapters  garden,  dormitory, 
refectory,  kitchen,  slaughterhouse,  and  brewery. 
These  eventually  yielded  to  a  cloister,  near  which, 
abutting  on  the  cathedral  wall,  stood  the  chapter- 
house and  the  Church  of  St.  Gregory.  West- 
ward were  the  houses  of  the  residentiaries ;  and 
the  deanery,  according  to  Milman,  an  excellent 
authority,  stood  on  its  present  site.  The  precinct 
had  six  gates — the  first  and  chief  in  Ludgate  Street ; 
the  second  in  Paul's  Alley,  leading  to  Paternoster 
Row;  the  third  in  Canon  Alley,  leading  to  the 
north  door;  the  fourth,  a  little  gate  leading  to 
Cheapside;  the  fifth,  the  Augustine  gate,  leading 
to  Watling  Street ;  the  sixth,  on  the  south  side,  by 
Paul's  Chain.  On  the  south  tower  of  the  west 
front  was  the  Lollard's  Tower,  a  bishop's  prison 
for  ecclesiastical  offenders. 

The  2,500  railings  of  the  churchyard  and  the 
seven  ornamental  gates,  weighing  altogether  two 
hundred  tons,  were  cast  in  Kent,  and  cost  6d.  a 
pound.     The  whole  cost  jr^x\,202  os.  6d. 

In  1606  St.  Paul's  Churchyard  was  the  scene  of 
the  execution  of  Father  Garnet,  one  of  the  Gun- 
powder Plot  conspirators — the  only  execution,  as 
far  as  we  know,  that  ever  desecrated  that  spot. 
It  is  very  doubtful,  after  all,  whether  Garnet  was 
cognizant  that  the  plot  was  really  to  be  carried 
out,  though  he  may  have  strongly  suspected  some 
dangerous  and  deadly  conspiracy,  and  the  Roman 
Catholics  were  prepared  to  see  miracles  wrought 
at  his  death. 

On  the  3rd  day  of  May,  1 606  (to  condense  Dr. 
Abbott's  account),  Garnet  was  drawn  upon  a 
hurdle,  according  to  the  usual  practice,  to  his 
place  of  execution.  The  Recorder  of  London, 
the  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  and  the  Dean  of  Win- 
chester were  present,  by  command  of  the  King — 
the  former  in  the  King's  name,  and  the  two  latter 
in  the  name  of  God  and  Christ,  to  assist  Garnet 


with  such  advice  as  suited  the  condition  of  a  dying 
man.     As  soon  as  he  had  ascended  the  scaffold, 
which  was  much  elevated  in  order  that  the  people 
might  behold   the    spectacle.   Garnet  saluted  the 
Recorder  somewhat  familiarly,  who  told  him  that 
"  it  was  expected  from  him  that  he  should  pub- 
licly deliver  his  real  opinion  respecting  the  con- 
spiracy and  treason ;  that  it  was  now  of  no  use 
to  dissemble,  as   all    was  clearly  and    manifestly 
proved ;  but  that  if,  in  the  true  spirit  of  repent- 
ance, he  was  willing  to  satisfy  the  Christian  world 
by  declaring  his    hearty    compunction,  he    might 
freely  state  what  he  pleased."     The  deans  then 
told  him  that  they  were  present  on  that  occasion 
by   authority,  in    order   to  suggest   to   him   such 
matters  as  might  be  useful  for  his  soul ;  that  they 
desired  to  do  this  without  offence,  and  exhorted 
him  to  prepare   and    settle    himself  for  another 
world,  and  to  commence    his  reconciliation  with 
God  by  a  sincere  and  saving  repentance.     To  this 
exhortation  Garnet  replied  "that  he  had  already 
done  so,  and  that  he  had  before  satisfied  himself 
in  this  respect."      The  clergymen  then  suggested 
"  that  he  would  do  well  to  declare  his  mind  to  the 
people."     Then  Garnet  said  to  those  near  him,  "  I 
always  disapproved  of  tumults  and  seditions  against 
the  king,  and  if  this  crime  of  the  powder  treason 
had  been  completed  I  should  have  abhorred  it  with 
my  whole  soul  and  conscience."  They  then  advised 
him  to  declare  as  much  to  the  people.     "  I  am  very 
weak,"  said  he,  "  and  my  voice  fails  me.      If  I 
should  speak  to  the  people,  I  cannot  make  them 
hear  me ;  it  is  impossible  that   they  should  hear 
me."     Then  said  Mr.  Recorder,  "  Mr.  Garnet,  if 
you  will  come  with  me,  I  will  take  care  that  they 
shall  hear  you,"  and,  going  before  him,  led  him 
to  the  western  end  of  the  scaffold.     He  still  hesi- 
tated  to  address  the  people,   but  the   Recorder 
urged  him  to  speak  his  mind  freely,  promising  to 
repeat  his  words  aloud  to  the  multitude.      Garnet 
then  addressed  the  crowd  as  follows  : — "  My  good 
fellow-citizens, — I  am  come  hither,  on  the  morrow 
of  the  invention  of  the  Holy  Cross,  to  see  an  end 
of  all  my  pains  and  troubles  in  this  world.     I  here 
declare  before   you  all  that   I    consider  the   late 
treason  and  conspiracy  against  the  State  to  be  cmel 
and  detestable ;  and,  for  my  part,  all  designs  and 
endeavours  against  the  king  were  ever  misliked  by 
me ;  and  if  this  attempt  had  been  perfected,  as  it 
was  designed,  I  think  it  would  have  been  altogether 
damnable;   and  I  pray  for   all  prosperity  to  the 
king,  the  queen,  and  the  royal  family."     Here  he 
paused,  and  the  Recorder  reminded  him  to  ask 
pardon  of  the  King  for  that  which  he  had  attempted. 
"  I  do  so,"  said  Garnet,  **  as  far  as  I  have  sinned 


264 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[St.  Paul's  Churchyard. 


against  him — namely,  in  that  I  did  not  reveal  that 
whereof  I  had  a  general  knowledge  from  Mr. 
Catesby,  but  not  other\vise."  Then  said  the  Dean 
of  Winchester,  "  Mr.  Garnet,  I  pray  you  deal 
clearly  in  the  matter :  you  were  certainly  privy  to 
the  whole  business."  "  God  forbid  !  "  said  Garnet ; 
*"I  never  understood  anything  of  the  design  of 
blowing  up  the  Parliament  House."  "  Nay,"  re- 
sponded the  Dean  of  Winchester,  "  it  is  manifest 
that  all  the  particulars  were  known  to  you,  and 


tessing  a  sin,  but  by  way  of  conference  and 
consultation ;  and  that  Greenaway  and  Catesby 
both  came  to  confer  with  him  upon  that  business, 
and  that  as  often  as  he  saw  Greenaway  he  would 
ask  him  about  that  business  because  it  troubled 
him.  "  Most  certainly,"  said  Garnet ;  "  I  did  so 
in  order  to  prevent  it,  for  I  always  misliked  it." 
Then  said  the  Dean,  "  You  only  withheld  your 
approbation  until  the  Pope  had  given  his  opinion." 
♦•  But  I  was  well  persuaded,"  said  Garnet,  "  that  the 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  ST.   PAUI.'S   {see  page  256). 


you  have  declared  under  your  own  hand  that 
Greenaway  told  you  all  the  circumstances  in  Essex." 
"  That,"  said  Garnet,  "  was  in  secret  confession, 
which  I  could  by  no  means  reveal."  Then  said 
the  Dean,  "  You  have  yourself,  Mr.  Garnet,  almost 
acknowledged  that  this  was  only  a  pretence,  for 
you  have  openly  confessed  that  Greenaway  told 
you  not  in  a  confession,  but  by  way  of  a  confes- 
sion, and  that  he  came  of  purpose  to  you  with  the 
design  of  making  a  confession ;  but  you  answered 
that  it  was  not  necessary  you  should  know  the 
full  extent  of  his  knowledge."  The  dean  Turther 
reminded  him  that  he  had  affirmed  under  his  own 
hand  that  this  was  not  told  him  by  way  of  con- 


Pope  would  never  approve  the  design."  "  Your 
intention,"  said  the  Dean  of  Winchester,  "was 
clear  from  those  two  breves  which  you  received 
from  Rome  for  the  exclusion  of  the  King." 
"  That,"  said  Garnet,  "  was  before  the  King  came 
in."  "  But  if  you  knew  nothing  of  the  particulars 
of  the  business,"  said  the  Dean,  "  why  did  you  send 
Baynham  to  inform  the  Pope  ?  for  this  also  you 
have  confessed  in  your  examinations."  Garnet 
replied,  "  I  have  already  answered  to  all  these 
matters  on  my  trial,  and  I  acknowledge  everything 
that  is  contained  in  my  written  confessions." 

Then,  turning  his  discourse  again  to  the  people, 
at  the  instance  of  the  Recorder,  he  proceeded  to 


St.  Paul's  Churchyard.] 


THE   "FACE   IN   THE   STRAW." 


265 


the  same  effect  as  before,  declaring  "  that  he  wholly 
misliked  that  cruel  and  inhuman  design,  and  that 
he  had  never  sanctioned  or  approved  of  any  such 
attempts  against  the  King  and  State,  and  that  this 
project,  if  it  had  succeeded,  would  have  been  in  his 
mind  most  damnable." 

Having  thus  spoken,  he  raised  his  hands,  and 
made  the  sign  of  the  cross  upon  his  forehead  and 


The  "  face  in  the  straw  "  was  a  miracle  said  to 
be  performed  at  Garnet's  death. 

The  original  fabricator  of  the  miracle  of  the  straw 
was  one  John  Wilkinson,  a  young  Roman  Catholic, 
who  at  the  time  of  Garnet's  trial  and  execution 
was  about  to  pass  over  into  France,  to  commence 
his  studies  at  the  Jesuits'  College  at  St.  Omer's. 
Some  time  after  his  arrival  there,  Wilkinson  was 


SpiccL  WiUtnfonu 


^ptcaJefixiJUc^t 


"the  face  in  the  straw." — FROM   ABBOT'S    "  ANTHOLOGIA,"    1613   {see  page  266). 


breast,  saying,  **  ///  fwmine  Patris^  Filii,  et  Spiritus 
Sancti!  Jesus  Maria!  Maria,  mater  gratia! 
Mater  misericordice  !  Tu  me  ab  hoste  protege,  et  hora 
mortis  siiscipe  !"  Then  he  said,  ^^  In  manus  tuas, 
Domine,  commendo  spiritum  meum,  quia  tu  redemisti 
me,  Dofnine,  Dens  veritatis  !"  Then,  again  crossing 
himself,  he  said,  ^^  Per  crucis  Jioc  signuni  fugiat 
procul  omm  maligmim  !  hifige  crucem  tuam,  Domine, 
incordemeo;"  and  again,  *' Jesus  Maria!  Maria, 
mater  gratia!"  In  the  midst  of  these  prayers  the 
ladder  was  drawn  away,  and,  by  the  express  com- 
mand of  the  King,  he  remained  hanging  from  the 
gallows  until  he  was  quite  dead, 
23 


attacked  by  a  dangerous  disease,  from  which  there 
was  no  hope  of  his  recovery  ;  and  while  in  this  state 
he  gave  utterance  to  the  story,  which  Endaemon- 
Joannes  relates  in  his  own  words,  as  follows : — 
"  The  day  before  Father  Garnet's  execution  my 
mind  was  suddenly  impressed  (as  by  some  external 
impulse)  with  a  strong  desire  to  witness  his  death, 
and  bring  home  with  me  some  relic  of  him.  I  had 
at  that  time  conceived  so  certain  a  persuasion  that 
my  design  would  be  gratified,  that  I  did  not  for  a 
moment  doubt  that  I  should  witness  some  imme- 
diate testimony  from  God  in  favour  of  the  innocence 
of  his  saint ;  though  as  often  as  the  idea  occurred 


266 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[St.  Paul's  Churchyard. 


to  my  mind,  I  endeavoured  to  drive  it  away,  that  I 
might  not  vainly  appear  to  tempt  Providence  by 
looking  for  a  miracle  where  it  was  not  necessarily 
to  be  expected.  Early  the  next  morning  I  betook 
myself  to  the  place  of  execution,  and,  arriving  there 
before  any  other  person,  stationed  myself  close  to 
the  scaffold,  though  I  was  afterwards  somewhat 
forced  from  my  position  as  the  crowd  increased." 
Having  then  described  the  details  of  the  execution, 
he  proceeds  thus  : — **  Garnet's  limbs  having  been 
divided  into  four  parts,  and  placed,  together  with 
the  head,  in  a  basket,  in  order  that  they  might  be 
exhibited,  according  to  law,  in  some  conspicuous 
place,  the  crowd  began  to  disperse.  I  then  again 
approached  close  to  the  scaffold,  and  stood  between 
the  cart  and  place  of  execution  ;  and  as  I  lingered 
in  that  situation,  still  burning  with  the  desire  of  bear- 
ing away  some  relic,  that  miraculous  ear  of  straw, 
since  so  highly  celebrated,  came,  I  know  not  how, 
into  my  hand.  A  considerable  quantity  of  dry 
straw  had  been  thrown  with  Garnet's  head  and 
quarters  into  the  basket,  but  whether  this  ear  came 
into  my  hand  from  the  scaffold  or  from  the  basket  I 
cannot  venture  to  affirm ;  this  only  I  can  truly  say, 
that  a  straw  of  this  kind  was  thrown  towards  me 
before  it  had  touched  the  ground.      This  straw  I 

afterwards  delivered  to  Mrs.  N ,  a  matron  of 

singular  Catholic  piety,  who  inclosed  it  in  a  bottle, 
which  being  rather  shorter  than  the  straw,  it 
became  slightly  bent.     A  few  days  afterwards  Mrs. 

N showed  the  straw  in  a  bottle  to  a  certain 

noble  person,  her  intimate  acquaintance,  who,  look- 
ing at   it  attentively,  at  length   said,  *I  can  see 

nothing  in   it   but   a  man's   face."      Mrs.  N 

and  myself  being  astonished  at  this  unexpected 
exclamation,  again  and  again  examined  the  ear 
of  the  straw,  and  distinctly  perceived  in  it  a  human 
countenance,  which  others  also,  coming  in  as 
casual  spectators,  or  expressly  called  by  us  as  wit- 
nesses, likewise  beheld  at  that  time.  This  is,  as 
God  knoweth,  the  true  history  of  Father  Garnet's 
straw."  The  engraving  upon  the  preceding  page  is 
taken  from  Abbot's  "Anthologia,"  published  in  1613, 
in  which  a  full  account  of  the  *'  miracle  "  is  given. 
At  65,  St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  north-west  corner, 
lived  the  worthy  predecessor  of  Messrs.  Grant  and 
Griffith,  Goldsmith's  friend  and  employer,  Mr. 
John  Newbery,  that  good-natured  man  with  the 
red-pimpled  face,  who,  as  the  philanthropic  book- 
seller, figures  pleasantly  in  the  "  Vicar  of  Wake- 
field ;"  always  in  haste  to  be  gone,  he  was  ever 
on  business  of  the  utmost  importance,  and  was 
at  that  time  actually  compiling  materials  for  the 
history  of  one  Thomas  Trip.  "The  friend  of 
all    mankind,"    Dr.  Primrose    calls    him.      "The 


honestest  man  in  the  nation,"  as  Goldsmith  said 
of  him  in  a  doggerel  riddle  which  he  wrote.  New- 
bery's  nephew  printed  the  "  Vicar  of  Wakefield  " 
for  Goldsmith,  and  the  elder  Newbury  published 
the  "Traveller,"  the  corner-stone  of  Goldsmith's 
fame.  It  was  the  elder  Newbery  who  unearthed 
the  poet  at  his  miserable  lodgings  in  Green  Arbour 
Court,  and  employed  him  to  write  his  "  Citizens  of 
the  World,"  at  a  guinea  each,  for  his  daily  news- 
paper, the  Public  Ledger  (1760).  The  Newberys 
seem  to  have  been  worthy,  prudent  tradesmen, 
constantly  vexed  and  irritated  at  Goldsmith's  ex- 
travagance, carelessness,  and  ceaseless  cry  for 
money ;  and  so  it  went  on  till  the  hare-brained, 
delightful  fellow  died,  when  Francis  Newbery  wrote 
a  violent  defence  of  the  fever  medicine,  an  excess 
of  which  had  killed  Goldsmith. 

The  office  of  the  Registrar  of  the  High  Court  of 
Admiralty  occupied  the  site  of  the  old  cathedral 
bakehouse.  Paul's  Chain  is  so  called  from  a  chain 
that  used  to  be  drawn  across  the  carriage-way  of 
the  churchyard,  to  preserve  silence  during  divine 
service.  The  northern  barrier  of  St.  Paul's  is  of 
wood.  Opposite  the  Chain,  in  1660  (the  Restora- 
tion), lived  that  king  of  writing  and  arithmetic 
masters,  the  man  whose  name  has  grown  into  a 
proverb — Edward  Cocker — who  wrote  "The  Pens 
Transcendancy,"  an  extraordinary  proof  of  true  eye 
and  clever  hand. 

In  the  Chapter  House  of  St,  Paul's,  which  Mr. 
Peter  Cunningham  not  too  severely  calls  "a 
shabby,  dingy-looking  building,"  on  the  north  side 
of  the  churchyard,  was  performed  the  unjust  cere- 
mony of  degrading  Samuel  Johnson,  the  chaplain 
to  William  Lord  Russell,  the  martyr  of  the  party 
of  liberty.  The  divines  present,  in  compassion, 
and  with  a  prescient  eye  for  the  future,  purposely 
omitted  to  strip  off  his  cassock,  which  rendered 
the  ceremony  imperfect,  and  afterwards  saved  the 
worthy  man  his  benefice. 

St.  Paul's  Coffee  House  stood  at  the  corner  of 
the  archway  of  Doctors'  Commons,  on  the  site  of 
"Paul's  Brew  House"  and  the  "Paul's  Head" 
tavern.  Here,  in  1721,  the  books  of  the  great 
collector.  Dr.  Rawlinson,  were  sold,  "  after  dinner ;" 
and  they  sold  well. 

Child's  Coffee  House,  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard, 
was  a  quiet  place,  much  frequented  by  the  clergy  of 
Queen  Anne's  reign,  and  by  proctors  from  Doctors' 
Commons.  Addison  used  to  look  in  there,  to 
smoke  a  pipe  and  listen,  behind  his  paper,  to  the 
conversation.  In  the  Spectator,  No.  609,  he  smiles 
at  a  country  gentleman  who  mistook  all  persons  in 
scarves  for  doctors  of  divinity.  This  was  at  a  time 
when  clergymen  always  wore  their  black  gowns  in 


St.  Paul's  Churchyard.] 


CITY   CLUBS   AND    COTERIES. 


267 


public.  "  Only  a  scarf  of  the  first  magnitude,"  he 
says,  "entitles  one  to  the  appellation  of  'doctor' 
from  the  landlady  and  the  boy  at  'Child's.'" 

"Child's"  was  the  resort  of  Dr.  Mead,  and  other 
professional  men  of  eminence.  The  Fellows  of  the 
Royal  Society  came  here.  Whiston  relates  that 
Sir  Hans  Sloane,  Dr.  Halley,  and  he  were  once  at 
"  Child's,"  when  Dr.  Halley  asked  him  (Whiston) 
why  he  was  not  a  member  of  the  Royal  Society  ? 
Whiston  answered,  "  Because  they  durst  not  choose 
a  heretic."  Upon  which  Dr.  Halley  said,  if  Sir 
Hans  Sloane  would  propose  him,  he  (Dr.  Halley) 
would  second  it,  which  was  done  accordingly. 

Carrick,  who  kept  up  his  interest  with  different 
coteries,  carefully  cultivated  the  City  men,  by 
attending  a  club  held  at  the  "Queen's  Arms" 
tavern,  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard.  Here  he  used 
to  meet  Mr.  Sharpe,  a  surgeon ;  Mr.  Paterson,  the 
City  Solicitor ;  Mr.  Draper,  a  bookseller,  and  Mr. 
Clutterbuck,  a  mercer;  and  these  quiet  cool  men 
were  his  standing  council  in  theatrical  affairs,  and 
his  gauge  of  the  city  taste.  They  were  none  of 
them  drinkers,  and  in  order  to  make  a  reckoning, 
called  only  for  French  wine.  Here  Dr.  Johnson 
started  a  City  club,  and  was  particular  the  members 
should  not  be  "  patriotic."  Boswell,  who  went 
with  him  to  the  "  Queen's  Arms  "  club,  found  the 
members  "  very  sensible,  well-behaved  men."  Bras- 
bridge,  the  silversmith  of  Fleet  Street,  who  wrote  his 
memoirs,  has  described  a  sixpenny  card  club  held 
here  at  a  later  date.  Among  the  members  was 
that  generous  and  hospitable  man,  Henry  Baldwin, 
who,  under  the  auspices  of  Garrick,  the  elder 
Colman,  and  Bonnell  Thornton,  stauted  the  S^. 
/amcs's  Chronicle,  the  most  popular  evening  paper 
of  the  day. 

"  I  belonged,"  says  Brasbridge,  "  to  a  sixpenny 
card  club,  at  the  'Queen's  Arms,'  in  St.  Paul's 
Churchyard;  it  consisted  of  about  twenty  mem- 
bers, of  whom  I  am  the  sole  survivor.  Among 
them  was  Mr.  Goodwin,  of  St.  Paul's  Churchyard, 
a  woollen  draper,  whose  constant  salutation,  when 
he  first  came  down-stairs  in  the  morning,  was  to  his 
shop,  in  these  words,  '  Good  morrow,  Mr.  Shop ; 
you'll  take  care  of  me,  Mr.  Shop,  and  I'll  take  care 
of  you.'  Another  was  Mr.  Curtis,  a  respectable 
stationer,  who  from  very  small  beginnings  left 
his  son  ^^90,000  in  one  line,  besides  an  estate  of 
near  j[^'^oo  a  year." 

"  The  '  Free  and  Easy  under  the  Rose '  was 
another  society  which  I  frequented.  It  was 
founded  sixty  years  ago,  at  the  '  Queen's  Arms,'  in 
St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  and  was  afterwards  removed 
to  the  '  Horn '  tavern.  It  was  originally  kept  by 
Bates,  who  was  never  so  happy  as  when  standing 


behind  a  chair  with  a  napkin  under  his  arm ;  but 
arriving  at  the  dignity  of  alderman,  tucking  in  his 
callipash  and  calipee  himself,  instead  of  handing  it 
round  to  the  company,  soon  did  his  business.  My 
excellent  friend  Briskett,  the  Marshal  of  the  High 
Court  of  Admiralty,  was  president  of  this  society 
for  many  years,  and  I  was  constantly  in  attendance 
as  his  vice.  It  consisted  of  some  thousand  mem- 
bers, and  I  never  heard  of  any  one  of  them  that 
ever  incurred  any  serious  punishment.  Our  great 
fault  was  sitting  too  late ;  in  this  respect,  according 
to  the  principle  of  Franklin,  that  '  time  is  money,' 
we  were  most  unwary  spendthrifts;  in  other  in- 
stances, our  conduct  was  orderly  and  correct." 

One  of  the  members  in  Brasbridge's  time  was 
Mr.  Hawkins,  a  worthy  but  ill-educated  spatterdash 
maker,  of  Chancery  Lane,  who  daily  murdered  the 
king's  English.  He  called  an  invalid  an  "  indi- 
vidual," and  said  our  troops  in  America  had  been 
^^  manured"  to  hardship.  Another  oddity  was  a 
Mr.  Darwin,  a  Radical,  wlio  one  night  brought 
to  the  club-room  a  caricature  of  the  head  of 
George  HI.  in  a  basket;  and  whom  Brasbridge 
nearly  frightened  out  of  his  wits  by  pretending  to 
send  one  of  the  waiters  for  the  City  Marshal. 
Darwin  was  the  great  chum  of  Mr.  Figgins,  a  wax- 
chandler  in  the  Poultry;  and  as  they  always  entered 
the  room  together,  Brasbridge  gave  them  the  nick- 
name of  "  Liver  and  Gizzard."  Miss  Boydell,  when 
her  uncle  was  Lord  Mayor,  conferred  sham  knight- 
hood on  Figgins,  with  a  tap  of  her  fan,  and  he  was 
henceforward  known  as  "Sir  Benjamin." 

The  Churchyard  publisher  of  Cowper's  first 
volume  of  poems,  "  Table  Talk,"  and  also  of  "  The 
Task,"  was  a  very  worthy,  liberal  man  —  Joseph 
Johnson,  who  also  published  the  "  Olney  Hymns " 
for  Newton,  the  scientific  writings  of  the  per- 
secuted Priestley,  and  the  smooth,  vapid  verses  of 
Darwin.  Johnson  encouraged  Fuseli  to  paint  a 
Milton  Gallery,  for  an  edition  of  the  poet  to  be 
edited  by  Cowper.  Johnson  was  imprisoned  nine 
months  in  the  King's  Bench,  for  selling  the  political 
writings  of  Gilbert  Wakefield.  He,  however,  bore 
the  oppression  of  the  majority  philosophically,  and 
rented  the  marshal's  house,  where  he  gave  dinners 
to  his  distinguished  literary  friends. 

"  Another  set  of  my  acquaintances,"  says  Leigh 
Hunt  in  his  autobiography,  "used  to  assemble  on 
Fridays  at  the  hospitable  table  of  Mr.  Hunter,  the 
bookseller,  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard.  They  were  the 
survivors  of  the  literary  party  that  were  accustomed 
to  dine  with  his  predecessor,  Mr.  Johnson.  The 
most  regular  were  Fuseli  and  Bonnycastle.  Now 
and  then  Godwin  was  present ;  oftener  Mr.  Kin- 
naird,  the  magistrate,  a  great  lover  of  Horace. 


268 


OLD  AND   NEW   LONDON. 


tSt  Paul's  Churchyard. 


"  Fuseli  was  a  small  man,  with  energetic  features 
and  a  white  head  of  liair.  Our  host's  daughter, 
then  a  httle  girl,  used  to  call  him  the  white-headed 
lion.  He  combed  his  hair  up  from  the  forehead, 
and  as  his  whiskers  were  large  his  face  was  set  in 
a  kind  of  hairy  frame,  which,  in  addition  to  the  j 
fierceness  of  his  look,  really  gave  him  an  aspect , 
of  that  sort.  Otherwise  his  features  were  rather 
sharp  than  round.  He  would  have  looked  much 
like  an  old  military  officer  if  his  face,  besides  its 
real  energy,  had  not  affected  more.  There  was 
the  same  defect  in  it  as  in  his  pictures.  Con- 
scious of  not  having  all  the  strength  he  wished, 
he  endeavoured  to  make  up  for  it  by  violence  and 
pretension.  He  carried  this  so  far  as  to  look 
fiercer  than  usual  when  he  sat  for  his  picture.  His 
friend  and  engraver,  Mr.  Houghton,  drew  an  ad- 
mirable Ukencss  of  him  in  this  state  of  dignified 
extravagance.  He  is  sitting  back  in  his  chair, 
leaning  on  his  hand,  but  looking  ready  to  pounce 
withal.  His  notion  of  repose  was  like  that  of 
Pistol. 

"A  student  reading  in  a  garden  is  all  over  inten- 
sity of  muscle,  and  the  quiet  tea-table  scene  in 
Cowper  he  has  turned  into  a  preposterous  con- 
spiracy of  huge  men  and  women,  all  bent  on 
showing  their  thews  and  postures,  with  dresses  as 
fantastic  as  their  minds.  One  gentleman,  of  the 
existence  of  whose  trousers  you  are  not  aware  till 
you  see  the  terminating  line  at  the  ankle,  is 
sitting  and  looking  grim  on  a  sofa,  with  his  hat  on 
and  no  waistcoat. 

"  Fuseli  was  lively  and  interesting  in  conversation, 
but  not  without    his  usual  faults  of  violence  and 
pretension.     Nor  was  he  always  as  decorous  as  an 
old  man  ought  to  be,   especially  one  whose  turn 
of  mind  is  not  of  the  lighter  and  more  pleasurable 
cast.     The  licences  he  took  were  coarse,  and  had 
not  sufficient   regard  to  his  company.      Certainly 
they  went  a  great  deal  beyond  his  friend  Armstrong, 
to  whose  account,  I  believe,   Fuseli's  passion  for 
swearing  was  laid.     The  poet  condescended  to  be 
a  great  swearer,  and  Fuseli    thought    it  energetic 
to  swear  like  him.      His    friendship  with  Bonny- 
castle  had  something  childlike  and  agreeable  in  it. 
Tliey  came  and  went  away  together  for  years,  like  j 
a  couple  of  old  schoolboys.     They  also  like  boys  1 
rallied  one  another,  and  sometimes  made  a  singular  . 
display  of  it — Fuseli,  at  least,  for  it  was  he  who  was  ■ 
the  aggressor.  j 

"  Bonnycastle  was   a  good   fellow.      He  was  a 
tall,  gaunt,    long-headed    man,  with  large  features  , 
and  spectacles,  and  a  deep  internal  voice,  with  a 
•  twang  of  rusticity  'in  it ;  and  he  goggled  over  his  , 
plate  like  a  horse.     I  often  thought  that  a  bag  of  | 


com  would  have  hung  well  on  him.  His  laugh 
was  equine,  and  showed  his  teeth  upwards  at  the 
sides.  Wordsworth,  who  notices  similar  mysterious 
manifestations  on  the  part  of  donkeys,  would  have 
thought  it  ominous.  Bonnycastle  was  extremely 
fond  of  quoting  Shakespeare  and  telling  stories, 
and  if  the  Edinburgh  Reinew  had  just  come  out, 
would  have  .given  us  all  the  jokes  in  it.  He  had 
once  a  hypochondriacal  disorder  of  long  dura- 
tion, and  he  told  us  that  he  should  never  forget 
the  comfortable  sensation  given  him  one  night 
during  this  disorder  by  his  knocking  a  landlord 
that  was  insolent  to  him  down  the  man's  staircase. 
On  the  strength  of  this  piece  of  energy  (having 
first  ascertained  that  the  offender  was  not  killed) 
he  went  to  bed,  and  had  a  sleep  of  unusual  sound- 
ness. 

"  It  was  delightful  one  day  to  hear  him  speak  with 
complacency  of  a  translation  which  had  appeared 
in  Arabic,  and  which  began  by  saying,  on  the 
part  of  the  translator,  that  it  pleased  God,  for  the 
advancement  of  human  knowledge,  to  raise  us  up 
a  Bonnycastle. 

"  Kinnaird,  the  magistrate,  was  a  sanguine  man, 
under  the  middle  height,  Avith  a  fine  lamping  black 
eye,  lively  to  the  last,  and  a  body  -that  '  had 
increased,  was  increasing,  and  ought  to  have  been 
diminished,'  which  is  by  no  means  what  he  thought 
of  the  prerogative.  Next  to  his  bottle,  he  was  fond 
of  his  Horace,  and,  in  the  intervals  of  business  at 
the  police  office,  would  enjoy  both  in  his  arm-chair. 
Between  the  vulgar  calls  of  this  kind  of  magis- 
tracy and  the  perusal  of  the  urbane  Horace  there 
must  have  'been  a  quota  of  contradiction,  which 
the  bottle,  perhaps,  was  required  to  render  quite 
palatable." 

Mr.  Charles  Knight's  pleasant  book,  "Shadows 
of  the  Old  Booksellers,"  also  reminds  us  of  another 
of  the  great  Churchyard  booksellers,  John  Riving- 
ton  and  Sons,  at  the  "  Bible  and  Crown."  They 
pubhshed,  in  1737,  an  early  sermon  of  Whitefield's, 
before  he  left  the  Church,  and  were  booksellers  to 
the  Society  for  Promoting  Christian  Knowledge; 
and  to  this  shop  country  clergymen  invariably  went 
to  buy  their  theology,  or  to  publish  their  own 
sermons. 

In  St.  Paul's  Churchyard  (says  Sir  John  Hawkins, 
in  his  "  History  of  Music ")  were  formerly  many 
shops  where  music  and  musical  instnniients  were 
sold,  for  which,  at  this  time,  no  better  reason  can 
be  given  than  that  the  service  at  the  Cathedral 
drew  together,  twice  a  day,  all  the  lovers  of  music 
in  London — not  to  mention  tliat  the  choirmen  were 
wont  to  assemble  there,  and  were  met  by  their 
friends  and  acquaintances. 


St.  Paul's  Churchyard]     MUSICAL   REMINISCENCES  AROUND   ST.  PAUL'S. 


269 


Jeremiah  Clark,  a   composer  of  sacred  music, 
who  shot  himself  in  his  house  in  St.  Paul's  Church- 
yard, was  educated  in  the  Royal  Chapel,  under  Dr. 
Blow,  who  entertained  so  great  a  friendship  for  him 
as  to  resign  in  his  favour  his  place  of  Master  of  the 
Children  and  Almoner  of  St.  Paul's,  Clark  being 
appointed  his  successor,  in  1693,  and  shortly  after- 
wards he  became  organist  of  the  cathedral.      "  In 
July,  1700,"  says  Sir  John  Hawkins,  "he  and  his 
fellow  pupils   were   appointed   Gentlemen   Extra- 
ordinary of  the  Royal  Chapel;  and  in  1704  they 
were  jointly  admitted  to  the  place  of  organist  thereof, 
in  the  room  of  Mr.  Francis  Piggot.     Clark  had  the 
misfortune  to  entertain  a  hopeless  passion  for  a 
very  beautiful  lady,  in  a  station  of  life  far  above 
him ;  his  despair  of  success  threw  him  into  a  deep 
melancholy;  in  short,  he  grew  weary  of  his  life, 
and  on  the  first  day  of  December,  1707,  shot  him- 
self.   He  was  determined  upon  this  method  of  put- 
ting an  end  to  his  life  by  an  event  which,  strange 
as  it  may  seem,  is  attested  by  the  late  Mr.  Samuel 
VVeeley,  one  of  the  lay-vicars  of  St.  Paul's,  who  was 
very  intimate  with  him,  and  had  heard  him  relate 
It.     Being  at  the  house  of  a  friend  in  the  country, 
he  took  an  abrupt  resolution  to  return  to  London  ; 
this  friend  having  observed  in  his  behaviour  marks 
of  great  dejection,  furnished  him  with  a  horse  and 
a  servant.     Riding  along  the  road,  a  fit  of  melan- 
choly seized   him,  upon  which  he  alighted,  and 
giving  the  servant  his  horse  to  hold,  went  into  a 
held,  in  a  corner  whereof  was  a  pond,  and  also 
trees,  and  began  a  debate  with  himself  whether  he 
should  then  end  his  days  by  hanging  or  drowning. 
Not  being  able  to  resolve  on  either,  he  thought 
of  making  what  he  looked  upon  as  chance  the 
umpire,  and  drew  out  of  his  pocket  a  piece  of 
money,  and  tossing  it  into  the  air,  it  came  doAvn 
on  its  edge,  and  stuck  in  the  clay.     Though  the 
determination  answered  not  his  wish,  it  was  far 
from    ambiguous,   as   it   seemed   to    forbid    both 
methods  of  destmction,  and  would  have  given  un- 
speakable comfort  to  a  mind  less  disordered  than 
his  was.     Being  thus  interrupted  in  his  purpose, 
he  returned,  and  mounting  his  horse,  rode  on  to 
London,  and  in  a  short  time  after  shot  himself. 
He   dwelt  in  a  house  in  St.  Paul's    Churchyard, 
situate  on  the  place  where  the  Chapter-house  now 
stands.     Old  Mr.  Reading  was  passing  by  at  the 
instant  the  pistol  went  off,  and  entering  the  house, 
found  his  friend  in  the  agonies  of  death. 

"The  compositions  of  Clark  are  few.  His 
anthems  are  remarkably  pathetic,  at  the  same  time 
that  they  preserve  the  dignity  and  majesty  of  the 
clnn-ch  style.  The  most  celebrated  of  them  gve 
*I  will  love  thee,'  printed  in  the  second  book  of 


the  '  Harmonia  Sacra ;'  •  Bow  down  thine  ear,'  and 
'  Praise  the  Lord,  O  Jerusalem.' 

*'  The  only  works  of  Clark  published  by  himself 
are  lessons  for  the  harpsichord  and  sundry  songs, 
which  are  to  be  found  in  the  collections  of  that 
day,  particularly,  in  the  '  Pills  to  Purge  Melancholy,' 
but  they  are  there  printed  without  the  basses.  He 
also  composed  for  D'Urfey's  comedy  of  *  The  Fond 
Husband,  or  the  Plotting  Sisters,'  that  sweet  ballad 
air,  'The  bonny  grey-eyed  Morn,'  which  Mr.  Gay 
has  introduced  into  '  The  Beggar's  Opera,'  and  is 
sung  to  the  words,  ''Tis  woman  that  seduces  all 
mankind.' " 

"  Mattheson,  of  Hamburg,"  says  Hawkins,  "  had 
sent  over  to  England,  in  order  to  their  being  pub- 
lished here,  two  collections  of  lessons  for  the  harp- 
sichord, and  they  were  accordingly  engraved  on 
copper,  and  printed  for   Richard   Meares,  in  St. 
Paul's  Churchyard,  and  published  in  the  year  17 14. 
Handel  was  at  this  time  in  London,  and  in  the 
afternoon  was  used  to-  frequent  St.  Paul's  Church 
for  the  sake  of  hearing  the  service,  and  of  playing 
on  the  organ  after  it  was  over;  from  whence  he 
and  some  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  choir  would 
frequently  adjourn  to  the  '  Queen's  Arms '  tavern, 
in  St,  Paul's  Churchyard,  where  was  a  harpsichord. 
It  happened  one  afternoon,  when  they  were  thus 
met  together,  Mr.  Weeley,  a  gentleman  of  the  choir, 
came  in  and  informed  them  that  Mr.  Mattheson's 
lessons  were  then  to  be  had  at  Mr.  Meares's  shop ; 
upon  which  Mr.  Handel  ordered  them  immediately 
to  be  sent  for,  and  upon  their  being  brought,  played 
them  all  over  without  rising  from  the  instrument." 
"  There  dwelt,"  says  Sir  John  Hawkins,  "  at  the 
west  corner  of  London  House  Yard,  in  St.  Paul's 
Churchyard,   at   the   sign   of   the   'Dolphin    and 
Crown,'  one  John  Young,  a  maker  of  violins  and 
other  musical  instruments.     This  man  had  a  son, 
whose  Christian  name  was  Talbot,  who  had  been 
brought  up  with  Greene  in  St.  Paul's  choir,  and 
had  attained  to  great  proficiency  on  the  violin,  as 
Greene  had  on  the  harpsichord.    The  merits  of  the 
two  Youngs,  father  and  son,  are  celebrated  in  the 
following  quibbling  verses,  which  were  set  to  music 
in  the  form  of  a  catch,  printed  in  the  pleasant 
'Musical  Companion,'  pubhshed  in  1726  : 

"  '  You  scrapers  that  want  a  good  fiddle  well  strung, 
Y»u  must  go  to  the  man  that  is  old  while  he's  young ; 
But  if  this  same  fiddle  you  fain  would  play  bold, 
You  must  go  to  his  son,  who'll  be  young  when  he's  old. 
There's  old  Young  and  young  Young,  both  men  of  renown, 
Old  sells  and  young  plays  the  best  fiddle  in  town. 
Young  and  old  live  together,  and  may  they  live  long, 
Young  to  play  an  old  fiddle,  old  to  sell  a  new  song.' 

"  This  young  man,  Talbot  Young,  together  with 


270 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[St.  Paul's  Churchyard. 


St.  Paul's  Churchyard.  J 


THE  "CASTLE"  CONCERTS. 


271 


Greene  and  several  persons,  had  weekly  meetings 
at  his  father's  house,  for  practice  of  music.  The 
fame  of  this  performance  spread  far  and  wide ;  and 
in  a  few  winters  the  resort  of  gentlemen  performers 
was  greater  than  the  house  would  admit  of;  a 
small  subscription  was  set  on  foot,  and  they  re- 


**The  'Castle '  concerts  continuing  to  flourish  for 
many  years,  auditors  as  well  as  performers  were 
admitted  subscribers,  and  tickets  were  delivered 
out  to  the  members  in  rotation  for  the  admission 
of  ladies.  Their  fund  enabling  them,  they  hired 
second-rate   singers   from   the   operas,  and   many 


otD  ST.  Paul's  school. 


moved  to  the  'Queen's  Head'  tavern,  in  Pater- 
noster Row.  Here  they  were  joined  by  Mr.  Wool- 
aston  and  his  friends,  and  also  by  a  Mr.  Franckville, 
a  fine  performer  on  the  viol  do  Gamba.  And  after 
a  few  winters,  being  grown  rich  enough  to  hire 
additional  performers,  they  removed,  in  the  year 
1724,  to  the  'Castle,'  in  Paternoster  Row,  which 
was  adorned  with  a  picture  of  Mr.  Young,  painted 
by  Woolaston. 


young  persons  of  professions  and  trades  that  de- 
pended upon  a  numerous  acquaintance,  were  in- 
duced by  motives  of  interest  to  become  members 
of  the  '  Castle '  concert. 

"  Mr.  Young  continued  to  perform  in  this  society 
till  the  declining  state  of  his  health  obliged  him  to 
quit  it;  after  which  time  Prospero  Castrucci  and 
other  eminent  performers  in  succession  continued 
to  lead  the  band.     About  the  year  1744,  at  the 


iji 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[St.  {"aul's  Churchyard. 


instance  of  an  alderman  of  London,  now  de- 
servedly forgotten,  the  subscription  was  raised  from 
two  guineas  to  five,  for  the  purpose  of  performing 
oratorios.  From  the  '  Castle '  this  society  removed 
to  Haberdashers'  Hall,  where  they  continued  for 
fifteen  or  sixteen  years  ;  from  thence  they  removed 
to  the  '  King's  Arms,'  in  Cornhill." 

A  curious  old  advertisement  of  1681  relates  to 
St.  Paul's  Alley: — "Whereas  the  yearly  meeting  of 
the  name  of  Adam  hath  of  late,  through  the  defi- 
ciency of  the  last  stewards,  been  neglected,  these 
are  to  give  notice  to  all  gentlemen  and  others  that 
are  of  that  name  that  at  William  Adam's,  -  com- 
monly called  the  '  Northern  Ale-house,'  in  St. 
Pauls  Alley,  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  there  will  be 
a  weekly  meeting,  every  Monday  night,  of  our  name- 
sakes, between  the  hours  of  six  and  eight  of  the 
clock  in  the  evening,  in  order  to  choose  stewards 
to  revive  our  antient  and  annual  feast." — Domestic 
Intelligence,  1681. 

During  the  building  of  St.  Paul's,  Wren  was  the 
zealous  Master  of  the  St.  Paul's  Freemason's  Lodge, 
which  assembled  at  the  "Goose  and  Gridiron," one 
of  the  most  ancient  lodges  in  London.  He  pre- 
sided regularly  iat  its  meetings  for  upwards  of 
eigliteen  years.  He  presented  the  lodge  with  three 
beautifully  carved  mahogany  candlesticks,  and  the 
trowel  and  mallet  which  he  used  in  laying  the  first 
stone  of  the  great  cathedral  in  1675.  ^^  1688 
Wren  was  elected  Grand  Master  of  the  order,  and 
he  nominated  his  old  fellow-workers  at  St.  Paul's, 
Cibber,  the  sculptor,  and  Strong,  the  master  mason. 
Grand  Wardens.  In  Queen  Anne's  reign  there 
were  129  lodges — eighty-six  in  London,  thirty-six 
in  provincial  cities,  and  seven  abroad.  Many  of 
the  oldest  lodges  in  London  are  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  St.  Paul's. 

"At  the  'Apple  Tree'  Tavern,"  say  Messrs. 
Hotten  and  Larwood,  in  their  history  of  "  Inn  and 
Tavern  Signs,"  "in  Charles  Street,  Covent  Garden, 
in  1716,  four  of  the  leading  London  Freemasons' 
lodges,  considering  themselves  neglected  by  Sir 
Christopher  Wren,  met  and  chose  a  Grand  Master, 
pro  tem.^  until  they  should  be  able  to  place  a  noble 
brother  at  the  head,  which  they  did  the  year  fol- 
lowing, electing  the  Duke  of  Montague.  Sir  Chris- 
topher had  been  chosen  in  1 698.  The  three  lodges 
that  joined  with  the  '  Apple  Tree'  lodge  used  to  meet 
respectively  at  the  *  Goose  and  Gridiron,'  St.  Paul's 
Churchyard  ;  the  '  Crown,'  Parker's  Lane ;  and  at 
the  '  Rummer  and  Grapes'  Tavern,  Westminster. 
The  'Goose  and  Gridiron'  occurs  at  Woodhall, 
Lincolnshire,  and  in  a  few  other  localities.  It  is 
said  to  owe  its  origin  to  the  following  circum- 
stances : — The  'Mitre'  was  a  celebrated  music-house 


in  London  House  Yard,  at  the  north-west  end  of 
St.  Paul's.  "When  it  ceased  to  be  a  music-house, 
the  succeeding  landlord,  to  ridicule  its  former 
destiny,  chose  for  his  sign  a  goose  striking  the  bars 
of  a  gridiron  with  his  foot,  in  ridicule  of  the 
'  Swan  and  Harp,'  a  common  sign  for  the  early 
music-houses.  Such  an  origin  does  the  Tatler  give ; 
but  it  may  also  be  a  vernacular  reading  of  the  coat 
of  arms  of  the  Company  of  Musicians,  suspended 
probably  at  the  door  of  the  '  Mitre'  when  it  was  a 
music-house.  These  arms  are  a  swan  with  his 
wings  expanded,  within  a  double  tressure,  counter, 
flory,  argent.  This  double  tressure  might  have 
suggested  a  gridiron  to  unsophisticated  passers-by. 

"  The  celebrated  '  Mitre,'  near  the  west  end  of 
St.  Paul's,  was  the  first  music-house  in  London. 
The  name  of  the  master  was  Robert  Herbert,  aiuis 
Farges.  Like  many  brother  publicans,  he  was, 
besides  being  a  lover  of  music,  also  a  collector  of 
natural  curiosities,  as  appears  by  his  '  Catalogue  of 
many  natural  rarities,  collected  with  great  industric, 
cost,  and  thirty  years'  travel  into  foreign  countries, 
collected  by  Robert  Herbert,  alias  Farges,  gent., 
and  sworn  servant  to  his  Majesty ;  to  be  seen  at 
the  place  called  the  Music-house,  at  the  Mitre, 
near  the  west  end  of  S.  Paul's  Church,  1664.' 
This  collection,  or,  at  least,  a  great  part  of  it, 
was  bought  by  Sir  Hans  Sloane.  It  is  conjectured 
that  the  '  Mitre '  was  situated  in  London  House 
Yard,  at  the  north-west  end  of  St.  Paul's,  on  the 
spot  where  afterwards  stood  the  house  known  by 
the  sign  of  the  '  Goose  and  Gridiron.' " 

St.  Paul's  School,  known  to  cathedral  visitors 
chiefly  by  that  murky,  barred-in,  purgatorial  play- 
ground opposite  the  east  end  of  Wren's  great 
edifice,  is  of  considerable  antiquity,  for  it  was 
founded  in  15 12  by  that  zealous  patron  of  learning, 
and  friend  of  Erasmus,  Dean  Colet.  This  liberal- 
minded  man  was  the  eldest  of  twenty-two  children, 
all  of  whom  he  survived.  His  father  was  a  City 
mercer,  who  was  twice  Lord  Mayor  of  London. 
Colet  became  Dean  of  St.  Paul's  in  1505,  and  soon 
afterwards  (as  Latimer  tells  us)  narrowly  escaped 
burning  for  Jiis  opposition  to  image  -  worship. 
Having  no  near  relatives,  Colet,  in  1509,  began  to 
found  St.  Paul's  School,  adapted  to  receive  153 
poor  boys  (the  number  of  fishes  taken  by  Peter  in 
the  miraculous  draught).  The  building  is  said  to 
have  cost  ^^4,500,  and  was  endowed  with  lands  in 
Buckinghamshire  estimated  by  Stow,  in  1598,  as 
of  the  yearly  value  of  ;^i2o  or  better,  and  now 
worth  ;^i  2,000,  with  a  certainty  of  rising. 

No  children  were  to  be  admitted  into  the  scliool 
but  such  as  could  say  their  catechism,  and  read 
and  write  competently.     Each  child  was  required 


st.Paur.sChmchyard.j      ST.    PAUL'S  SCHOOL  AND   FAMOUS   PAULINES. 


273 


to  i-jay  fourpence  on  his  first  admission  to  the 
school,  which  sum  v.as  to  be  given  to  the  "  poor 
scholar  "  who  swept  the  school  and  kept  the  seats 
clean.  The  hours  of  study  were  to  be  from  seven 
till  eleven  in  the  morning,  and  from  one  to  five 
in  the  afternoon,  with  prayers  in  the  morning,  at 
noon,  and  in  the  evening.  It  was  expressly  stipu- 
lated that  the  pupils  should  never  use  tallow  candles, 
but  only  wax,  and  those  "  at  the  cost  of  their 
friends."  The  most  remarkable  statute  of  the 
school  is  that  by  which  the  scholars  were  bound 
on  Christmas-day  to  attend  at  St,  Paul's  Church 
and  hear  the  child-bishop  sermon,  and  after  be  at 
the  high  mass,  and  each  of  them  offer  one  penny 
to  the  child-bishop.  When  Dean  Colet  was  asked 
why  he  had  left  his  foundation  in  trust  to  bymen 
(the  Mercers'  Company),  as  tenants  of  his  father, 
rather  than  to  an  ecclesiastical  foundation,  he 
answered,  "  that  there  was  no  absolute  certainty 
in  human  affairs,  but,  for  his  part,  he  found  less 
corruption  in  such  a  body  of  citizens  than  in  any 
other  order  or  degree  of  mankind." 

Erasmus,  after  describing  the  foundation  and 
the  school,  which  he  calls  "a  magnificent  Structure, 
to  which  were  attached  two  dwelling-houses  for 
the  masters,"  proceeds  to  say,  '*  He  divided  the 
school  into  four  chambers.  The  first — namely,  the 
porch  and  entrance — in  which  the  chaplain  teaches, 
where  no  child  is  to  be  admitted  who  cannot  read 
and  write ;  the  second  apartment  is  for  those  who 
are  taught  by  the  under-master;  the  third  is  for 
the  boys  of  the  upper  form,  taught  by  the  high 
master.  These  two  parts  of  the  school  are  divided 
by  a  curtain,  to  be  drawn  at  will.  Over  the  head- 
master's chair  is  an  image  of  the  boy  Jesus,  a 
beautiful  work,  in  the  gesture  of  teaching,  whom 
all  the  scholars,  going  and  departing,  salute  with 
a  hymn.  There  is  a  representation  of  God  the 
Father,  also,  saying,  *  Hear  ye  him,'  which  words 
were  written  at  my  suggestion." 

"  The  last  apartment  is  a  little  chapel  for  divine 
service.  In  the  whole  school  there  are  no  corners 
or  hiding-places ;  neither  a  dining  nor  a  sleeping 
place.  Each  boy  has  his  own  place,  one  above 
another.  F.very  class  or  form  contains  sixteen 
boys,  and  he  that  is  at  the  head  of  a  class  has  a 
little  seat,  by  way  of  pre-eminence." 

Erasmus,  who  took  a  great  interest  in  St.  Paul's 
School,  drew  up  a  grammar,  and  other  elementary 
books  of  value,  for  his  friend  Colet,  who  had  for 
one  of  his  masters  William  Lily,  "  the  model  of 
grammarians."  Colet's  masters  were  always  to  be 
married  men. 

The  school  thus  described  shared  in  the  Great 
Fire  of  1666,  and  was  rebuilt  by  tlie  Mercers' 


Company  in  1670.  This  second  structure  was 
superseded  by  the  present  edifice,  designed  and 
erected  by  George  Smith,  Esq.,  the  architect  of  the 
Mercers'  Company.  It  has  the  advantage  of  two 
additional  masters'  houses,  and  a  large  cloister  for 
a  playground  underneath  the  school 

On  occasions  of  the  sovereigns  of  England,  or 
other  royal  or  distinguished  persons,  going  in  state 
through  the  City,  a  balcony  js  erected  in  front  of 
this  building,  whence  addresses  from  the  school 
are  presented  to  the  illustrious  visitors  by  the  head 
boys.  The  origin  of  this  right  or  custom  of  the 
Paulines  is  not  known,  but  it  is  of  some  antiquity. 
Addresses  were  so  presented  to  Charles  V.  and 
Henry  VIIL,  in  1522  ;  to  Queen  EHzabeth,  1558; 
and  to  Queen  Victoria,  when  the  Royal  Exchange 
was  opened,  in  1844.  Her  Majesty,  however,  pre- 
ferred  to  receive  the  address  at  the  next  levee ;  and 
this  precedent  was  followed  when  the  multitudes  of 
London  rushed  to  welcome  the  Prince  of  Wales 
and  Princess  Alexandra,  in  1863. 

The  ancient  school-room  was  on  a  level  with 
the  street,  the  modem  one  is  built  over  the  cloister. 
It  is  a  finely-proportioned  apartment,  and  has 
several  new  class-rooms  adjoining,  erected  upon  a 
plan  proposed  by  Dr.  Kynaston,  the  present  head- 
master. At  the  south  end  of  this  noble  room, 
above  the  master's  chair,  is  a  bust  of  the  founder 
by  Roubiliac.  Over  the  seat  is  inscribed,  *'In- 
tendas  animum  studiis  et  rebus  honestis,"  and  over 
the  entrance  to  the  room  is  the  quaint  and  appro- 
priate injunction  found  at  Winchester  and  other 
public  schools — "  Doce,  disce,  aut  discede," 

St.  Paul's  School  has  an  excellent  library  imme- 
diately adjoining  the  school-room,  to  which  the 
eighth  class  have  access  out  of  school-hours,  the 
six  seniors  ogcupying  places  in  it  in  school-time. 

In  1602  the  masters'  stipends  were  enlarged, 
and  the  surplus  money  set  apart  for  college  exhi- 
bitions. The  head  master  receives  £c)oo  a  year,  the 
second  master  ;^4oo.  The  education  is  entirely 
gratuitous.  The  presentations  to  the  school  are  in 
the  gift  of  the  Master  of  the  Mercers'  Company, 
which  company  has  undoubtedly  .much  limited 
Dean  Colet's  generous  intentions.  The  school  is 
rich  in  prizes  and  exhibitions.  The  latest  chro- 
nicler of  the  Paulines  says  : — 

"  Few  public  schools  can  claim  to  have  educated 
more  men  who  figure  prominently  in  English  history 
than  St.  Paul's  School.  Sir  Edward  North,  founder 
of  the  noble  family  of  that  name;  Sir  William 
Paget,  who  from  being  the  son  of  a  serjeant-at- 
mace  became  privy  councillor  to  four  successive 
sovereigns,  and  acquired  the  title  now  held  by  his 
descendant,  the  owner  of  Beaudesert ;  and  John 


274 


OLD   AND    NEW   LONDON. 


[Paternoster  Row. 


Leland,  the  celebrated  archaeologist;  William 
Whitaker,  one  of  the  earliest  and  most  prominent 
chaplains  of  the  Reformation ;  William  Camden, 
antiquarian  and  herald ;  the  immortal  John  Milton ; 
Samuel  Pepys ;  Robert  Nelson,  author  of  the  '  Com- 
panion to  the  Festivals  and  Fasts  of  the  Church  of 
England ;.'  Dr.  Benjamin  Calamy  ;  Sir  John  Trevor, 
Master  of  the  Rolls  and  Speaker  of  the  House  of 
Commons  ;  John,  the  great  Duke  of  Marlborough ; 
Halley,  the  great  astronomer;  the  gallant  but  un- 
fortunate Major  Andre ;  Sir  Philip  Francis ;  Sir 
Charles  Wetherell ;  Sir  Frederick  Pollock,  the  late 
Lord  Chief  Baron ;  Lord  Chancellor  Truro ;  and 
the  distinguished  Greek  Professor  at  Oxford,  Ben- 
jamin Jowett." 

Pepys  seems  to  have  been  very  fond  of  his  old 
school.  In  1659,  he  goes  on  Apposition  Day  to 
hear  his  brother  John  deliver  his  speech,  which  he 
had  corrected ;  and  on  another  occasion,  meeting 
his  old  second  master,  Crumbun — a  dogmatic  old 
pedagogue,  as  he  calls  hhn — at  a  bookseller's  in 
the  Churchyard,  he  gives  the  school  a  fine  copy 
of  Stephens'  "Thesaurus."  In  1661,  going  to  the 
Mercers'  Hall  in  the  Lord  Admiral's  coach,  we  find 
him  expressing  pleasure  at  going  in  state  to  the 
place  where  as  a  boy  he  had  himself  humbly 
pleaded  for  an  exhibition  to  St.  Paul's  School. 


According  to  Dugdale,  an  ancient  cathedral 
school  existed  at  St.  Paul's.  Bishop  Balmeis 
(Henry  I.)  bestowed  on  it  "  the  house  of  Durandus, 
near  the  Bell  Tower ;"  and  no  one  could  keep  a 
school  in  London  without  the  licence  of  the  master 
of  Paul's,  except  the  masters  of  St.  Mary-le-Bow 
and  St.  Martin's-le-Grand. 

The  old  laws  of  Dean  Colet,  containing  many 
curious  provisions  and  restrictions,  among  other 
things  forbad  cock-fighting  "and  other  pageantry" 
in  the  school.  It  was  ordered  that  the  second 
master  and  chaplain  were  to  reside  in  Old  Change. 
There  was  a  bust  of  good  Dean  Colet  over  the 
head-master's  throne.  Strype,  speaking  of  the 
original  dedication  of  the  school  to  the  child  Jesus, 
says,  "  but  the  saint  robbed  his  Master  of  the  title." 
In  early  days  there  used  to  be  great  war  between 
the  "  Paul's  pigeons,"  as  they  were  called,  and  the 
boys  of  St.  Anthony's  Free  School,  Threadneedle 
Street,  whom  the  Paulines  nicl^named  "  Anthony's 
pigs."  The  Anthony's  boys  were  great  carriers  off 
of  prizes  for  logic  and  grammar. 

Of  Milton's  school-days  Mr.  Masson,  in  his 
voluminx)us  hfe  of  the  poet,  says,  "  Milton  was  at 
St  Paul's,  as  far  as  we  can  calculate,  from  1620, 
when  he  passed  his  eleventh  year,  to  1624-5,  when 
he  had  passed  his  sixteenth." 


CHAPTER      XXIII. 


PATERNOSTER  ROW. 


Its  Successions  of  Traders— The  House  of  Longman— Goldsmith  at  Fault— Tarleton,  Actor,  Host,  and  Wit — Ordinaries  around  St.  Paul's  ; 
their  Rules  and  Customs — The  "Castle" — "Dolly's" — The  "Chapter"  and  its  Frequenters— Chatterton  and  Goldsmith— Dr.  Buchan 
and  his  Prescriptions — Dr.  Gower— Dr.  Fordyce — The  "  Wittinagemot "  at  the  "  Chapter"— The  "Printing  Conger" — Mrs.  Turner,  the 
Poisoner — The  Church  of  St.  Michael  "ad  BJadum" — The  Boy  in  Panier  Alley. 


Paternoster  Row,  that  crowded  defile  north  of 
the  Cathedral,  lying  between  the  old  Grey  Friars  and 
the  Blackfriars,  was  once  entirely  ecclesiastical  in 
its  character,  and,  according  to  Stow,  was  so  called 
from  the  stationers  and  text-writers  who  dwelt 
there  and  sold  religious  and  educational  books, 
alphabets,  paternosters,  aves,  creeds,  and  graces. 
It  then  became  famous  for  its  spurriers,  and  after- 
wards for  eminent  mercers,  silkmen,  and  lacemen ; 
so  that  the  coaches  of  the  "  quality"  often  blocked 
up  the  whole  street.  After  the  fire  these  trades 
mostly  removed  to  Bedford  Street,  King  Street,  and 
Henrietta  Street,  Covent  Garden.  In  1720  (says 
Strype)  there  were  stationers  and  booksellers  who 
came  here  in  Queen  Anne's  reign  from  Little 
Britain,  and  a  good  many  tire-women,  who  sold 
commodes,  top-knots,  t^nd  other  dressings  for  the 


female  head.  By  degrees,  however,  learning  ousted 
vanity,  chattering  died  into  studious  silence,  and 
the  despots  of  literature  ruled  supreme.  Many  a 
groan  has  gone  up  from  authors  in  this  gloomy 
thoroughfare. 

One  only,  and  that  the  most  ancient,  of  the 
Paternoster  Row  book-firms,  will  our  space  permit 
us  to  chronicle.  The  house  of  Longman  is  part 
and  parcel  of  the  Row.  The  first  Longman,  born 
in  Bristol  in  1699,  was  the  son  of  a  soap  and  sugar 
merchant.  Apprenticed  in  London,  he  purchased 
{circa  1724)  the  business  of  Mr,  Taylor,  the  pub- 
lisher of  "Robinson  Crusoe,"  for  ;,^2,282  9s.  6d., 
and  his  first  venture  was  the  works  of 'Boyle.  This 
patriarch  died  in  1755,  and  was  succeeded  by  a 
nejihew,  Thomas  Longman,  who  ventured  much 
trade  in  America  and  "  the  plantaticnSr"     Jle  wag 


Paternoster  Row.] 


THE   HOUSE  OF  LONGMAN. 


275 


succeeded  by  his  son,  Mr.  T.  L.  Longman,  a  plain 
man  of  the  old  citizen  style,  who  took  as  partner 
Mr.  Owen  Rees,  a  Bristol  bookseller,  a  man  of 
industry  and  acumen. 

Before  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century  the 
house  of  Longman  and  Rees  had  become  one  of 
the  largest  in  the  City,  both  as  publishers  and 
book-merchants.  When  there  was  talk  of  an 
additional  paper-duty,  the  ministers  consulted,  ac- 
cording to  West,  the  new  firm,  and  on  their  protest 
desisted ;  a  reverse  course,  according  to  the  same 
authority,  would  have  checked  operations  on  the 
part  of  that  one  firm  alone  of  ;^ioo,ooo.  Before 
the  opening  of  the  nineteenth  century  they  had 
become  possessed  of  some  new  and  valuable 
copyrights — notably,  the  "Grammar"  of  Lindley 
Murray,  of  New  York.     This  was  in  1799. 

The  "  lake  poets  "  proved  a  valuable  acquisition. 
Wordsworth  came  first  to  them,  then  Coleridge, 
and  lastly  Southey.  In  1802  the  Longmans  com- 
menced the  issue  of  Rees'  "  Cyclopaedia,"  recon- 
structed from  the  old  Chambers',  and  about  the 
same  time  the  Annual  Review,  edited  by  Aikin, 
which  for  the  nine  years  of  its  existence  Southey 
and  Taylor  of  Norwich  mainly  supported.  The 
catalogue  of  the  firm  for  1803  is  divided  into  no 
less  than  twenty-two  classes.  Among  their  books 
we  note  Paley's  "  Natural  Theology,"  Sharon  Tur- 
ner's "Anglo-Saxon  History,"  Adolphus's  "  History 
of  King  George  HL,"  Pinkerton's  "  Geography," 
Fosbrooke's  "  British  Monachism,"  Cowper's 
"  Homer,"  Giffbrd's  "Juvenal,"  Sotheby's  ^'Oberon," 
and  novels  and  romances  not  a  few.  At  this  time 
Mr.  Longman  used  to  have  Saturday  evening  re- 
ceptions in  Paternoster  Row. 

Sir  Walter  Scott's  "Guy  Mannering,"  "The 
Monastery,"  and  "The  Abbot,"  were  published 
by  Longmans.  "  Lalla  Rookh,"  by  Tom  Moore, 
was  published  by  them,  and  they  gave  ;i^3,ooo 
for  it. 

In  181 1  Mr.  Brown,  who  had  entered  the  house 
as  an  apprentice  in  1792,  and  was  the  son  of  an 
old  servant,  became  partner.  Then  came  in  Mr. 
Orme,  a  faithful  clerk  of  the  house — for  the  house 
required  several  heads,  the  old  book  trade  alone 
being  an  important  department.  In  1826,  when 
Constable  of  Edinburgh  came  down  in  the  com- 
mercial crash,  and  brought  poor  Sir  Walter  Scott 
to  the  ground  with  him,  the  Longman  firm  suc- 
ceeded to  the  Edinburgh  Revirui,  which  is  still 
their  property.  Mr.  Green  became  a  partner  in 
1824,  and  in  1856  Mr.  Roberts  was  admitted. 
In  1829  the  firm  ventured  on  Lardner's  "  Cyclo- 
psedia,"  contributed  to  by  Scott,  Tom  Moore, 
Mackintosh,  &Cij  and  which  ended  in  1846  with  the 


133rd  volume.     In    i860  Mr.   Thomas  Longman 
became  a  partner. 

Thomas  Norton  Longman,  says  a  writer  in  the 
Critic,  resided  for  many  years  at  Mount  Grove, 
Hampstead,  where  he  entertained  many  wits  and 
scholars.  He  died  there  in  1842,  leaving  ;^2oo,ooo 
personalty.  In  1839  Mr.  William  Longman  en- 
tered the  firm  as  a  partner.  "  Longman,  Green, 
Longman,  and  Roberts "  became  the  style  of 
the  great  publishing  house,  the  founder  of  which 
commenced  business  one  hundred  and  forty-four 
years  ago,  at  the  house  which  became  afterwards 
No.  39,  Paternoster  Row. 

In  1773,  a  year  before  Goldsmith's  death.  Dr. 
Kenrick,  a  vulgar  satirist  of  the  day,  wrote  an 
anonymous  letter  in  an  evening  paper  called  The 
London  Packet,  sneering  at  the  poet's  vanit)',  and 
calling  "  The  Traveller "  a  flimsy  poem,  denying 
the  "  Deserted  Village  "  geniu.s,  fancy,  or  fire,  and 
calling  "  She  Stoops  to  Conquer  "  the  merest  pan- 
tomime. Goldsmith's  Irish  blood  fired  at  an 
allusion  to  Miss  Horneck  and  his  supposed  rejection 
by  her.  Supposing  Evans,  of  Paternoster  Row,  to 
be  the  editor  of  the  Packet,  Goldsmith  resolved  to 
chastise  him.  Evans,  a  brutal  fellow,  who  turned 
his  son  out  in  the  streets  and  separated  from  his 
wife  because  she  took  her  son's  part,  denied  all 
knowledge  of  the  matter.  As  he  turned  his  back 
to  look  for  the  libel.  Goldsmith  struck  him  sharply 
across  the  shoulders.  Evans,  a  sturdy,  hot  Welsh- 
man, returned  the  blow  with  interest,  and  in  the 
scufile  a  lamp  overhead  was  broken  and  covered 
the  combatants  with  fish-oil.  Dr.  Kenrick  then 
stepped  from  an  adjoining  room,  interposed  between 
the  combatants,  and  sent  poor  Goldsmith  home, 
bruised  and  disfigured,  in  a  coach.  Evans  subse- 
quently indicted  Goldsmith  for  the  assault,  but  the 
affair  was  compromised  by  Goldsmith  paying  ^50 
towards  a  Welsh  charity.  The  friend  who  accom- 
panied Goldsmith  to  this  chivalrous  but  unsuccess- 
ful attack  is  said  to  have  been  Captain  Horneck, 
but  it  seems  more  probable  that  it  was  Captain 
Higgins,  an  Irish  friend  mentioned  in  "  The 
Haunch  of  Venison." 

Near  the  site  of  the  present  Dolly's  Chop 
House  stood  the  "  Castle,"  an  ordinary  kept  by 
Shakespeare's  friend  and  fellow  actor,  Richard 
Tarleton,  the  low  comedian  of  Queen  Elizabeth's 
reign.  It  was  this  humorous,  ugly  actor  who  no 
doubt  suggested  to  the  great  manager  many  of 
his  jesters,  fools,  and  simpletons,  and  we  know 
that  the  tag  songs — such  as  that  at  the  end  of  All's 
Well  that  Ends  Well,  "When  that  I  was  a  little 
tiny  boy" — were  expressly  written  for  Tarleton, 
and  were  danced    by  that  comedian  to  the    tune 


276 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Paternoster  Row. 


of  a  pipe  and  a  tabor  which  he  himself  played. 
The  part  which  Tarleton  had  to  play  as  host  and 
wit  is  well  shown  in  his  "  Book  of  Jests  :" — 

"Tarleton  keeping  an  ordinary  in  Paternoster 
Row,  and  sitting  with  gentlemen  to  make  them 
merry,  would  approve  mustard  standing  before  them 
to  have  wit.  '  How  so  ?'  saies  one.  '  It  is  like  a 
witty  scold  meeting  another  scold,  knowing  that 
scold  will  scold,  begins  to  scold  first.  So,'  says 
he,  *  the  mustard  being  lickt  up,  and  knowing 
that  you  will  bite  it,  begins  to  bite  you  first.'  '  I'll 
try  that,'  saies  a  gull 
by,  and  the  mustard 
so  tickled  him  that  his 
eyes  watered.  *  How 
now  ?'  saies  Tarleton ; 

*  does  my  jest  savour?' 

*  I,'  saies  the  gull,  *  and 
bite  too.'  '  If  you  had 
had  better  ^vit,'  saies 
Tarleton,  'you  would 
have  bit  first ;  so,  then, 
conclude  with  me,  that 
dumbe  unfeeling  mus- 
tard hath  more  wit 
than  a  talking,  unfeel- 
ing foole,  as  you  are.' 
Some  were  pleased, 
and  some  were  not; 
but  all  Tarleton's  care 
was  taken,  for  his  reso- 
lution was  ever,  before 
he  talkt  any  jest,  to 
measure  his  opponent." 

A  modern  antiquary 
has  with  great  care 
culled  from  the  "Gull's 
Horn  Book"  and  other 
sources  a  sketch  of  the 
sort  of  company  that 
might  be  met  with  at 
such  an   ordinary.     It 


RICHARD  TARLETON,  THE  ACTOR  {copied  from  an  old 
wood  engraving). 


was  the  custom  for  men 
of  fashion  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  and  James 
to  pace  in  St.  Paul's  till  dinner-time,  and  after 
the  ordinary  again  till  the  hour  when  the  theatres 
opened.  The  author  of  "  Shakespeare's  England  " 
says : — 

"  There  were  ordinaries  of  all  ranks,  the  table- 
(Thote  being  the  almost  universal  mode  of  dining 
among  those  who  were  visitors  to  London  during 
the  season,  or  term-time,  as  it  was  then  called. 
There  was  the  twelvepenny  ordinary,  where  you 
might  meet  justices  of  the  peace  and  young  knights ; 
and  the  threepenny  ordinary,  which  was  frequented 
by  poor  lieutenants  and  thrifty  attorneys.     At  the 


one  the  rules  of  high  society  were  maintained,  and 
the  large  silver  salt-cellar  indicated  the  rank  of  the 
guests.  At  the  other  the  diners  were  silent  and 
unsociable,  or  the  conversation,  if  any,  was  so 
full  of  'amercements  and  feoffments'  that  a  mere 
countryman  would  have  thought  the  people  were 
conjuring. 

"  If  a  gallant  entered  the  ordinary  at  about  half- 
past  eleven,  or  even  a  little  earlier,  he  would  find 
the  room  full  of  fashion-mongers,  waiting  for  the 
meat  to  be  served.    There  are  men  of  all  classes  : 

titled  men,  who  live 
cheap  that  they  may 
spend  more  at  Court; 
stingy  men,  who  want 
to  save  the  charges  of 
house-keeping  ;  cour- 
tiers, who  come  there 
for  society  and  news ; 
adventurers,  who  have 
no  home ;  Templars, 
who  dine  there  daily; 
and  men  about  town, 
who  dine  at  whatever 
place  is  nearest  to  their 
hunger.  Lords,  citi- 
zens, concealed  Pa- 
pists, spies,  prodigal 
'prentices,  precisians^ 
aldermen,  foreigners, 
officers,  and  country 
gentlemen,  all  are  here. 
Some  have  come  on 
foot,  some  on  horse- 
back, and  some  in 
those  new  caroches  the 
poets  laugh  at." 

"The  well-bred  cour- 
tier, on  entering  the 
room,  saluted  those  of 
his  acquaintances  who 
were  in  winter  gathered  round  the  fire,  in  summer 
round  the  window,  first  throwing  his  cloak  to  his 
page  and  hanging  up  his  hat  and  sword.  The 
parvenu  would  single  out  a  friend,  and  walk  up  and 
down  uneasily  with  the  scorn  and  carelessness  of  a 
gentleman  usher,  laughing  rudely  and  nervously,  or 
obtruding  himself  into  groups  of  gentlemen  gathered 
round  a  wit  or  poet.  Quarrelsome  men  pace  about 
fretfully,  fingering  their  sword-hilts  and  maintaining 
as  sour  a  face  as  that  Puritan  moping  in  a  corner, 
pent  up  by  a  group  of  young  swaggerers,  who  are 
disputing  over  a  card  at  gleek.  Vain  men,  not 
caring  whether  it  was  Paul's,  the  Tennis  Court,  or 
the  play-house,  published  their  clothes,  and  talked 


Paternoster  Row.  3 


A  ST.  PAUL'S  CHURCHYARD   ORDINARY. 


277 


as  loud  as  they  could,  in  order  to  appear  at  ease, 
and  laughed  over  the  Water  Poet's  last  epigram  or 
the  last  pamphlet  of  Marprelate.  The  soldiers 
bragged  of  nothing  but  of  their  employment  in 
Ireland  and  the  Low  Countries — how  they  helped 
Drake  to  burn  St.  Domingo,  or  grave  Maurice 
to  hold  out  Breda.  Tom  Coryatt,  or  such  weak- 
pated  travellers,  would  babble  of  the  Rialto  and 
Prester  John,  and  exhibit  specimens  of  unicorns' 
horns  or  palm-leaves  from  the  river  Nilus.      The 


implied  that  you  had  nearly  finished  dinner.  The 
more  unabashable,  rapid  adventurer,  though  but 
a  beggarly  captain,  would  often  attack  the  capon 
while  his  neighbour,  the  knight,  was  still  encum- 
bered with  his  stewed  beef ;  and  when  the  justice  of 
the  peace  opposite,  who  has  just  pledged  him  in 
sack,  is  knuckle-deep  in  the  goose,  he  falls  stoutly 
on  the  long-billed  game ;  while  at  supper,  if  one 
of  the  college  of  critics,  our  gallant  praised  the  last 
play  or  put  his  approving  stamp  upon  the  new  poem. 


dolly's  coffee-house  (see  page  278). 


courtier  talked  of  the  fair  lady  who  gave  him  the 
glove  which  he  wore  in  his  hat  as  a  favour ;  the  poet 
of  the  last  satire  of  Marston  or  Ben  Jonson,  or 
volunteered  to  read  a  trifle  thrown  off  of  late  by 
'  Faith,  a  learned  gentleman,  a  very  worthy  friend,' 
though  if  we  were  to  enquire,  this  varlet  poet  might 
turn  out,  after  all,  to  be  the  mere  decoy  duck  of 
the  hostess,  paid  to  draw  gulls  and  fools  thither. 
The  mere  dullard  sat  silent,  playing  with  his  glove 
or  discussing  at  what  apothecary's  the  best  tobacco 
was  to  be  bought. 

"  The  dishes  seemed  to  have  been  served  up  at 

these  hot  luncheons  or  early  dinners  in  much  the 

same  order  as  at  the  present  day— meat,  poultry, 

game,   and  pastry.      '  To  be  at  your  woodcocks ' 

24 


"  Primero  and  a  'pair'  of  cards  followed  the  wine. 
Here  the  practised  player  learnt  to  lose  with  endu- 
rance, and  neither  to  tear  the  cards  nor  cnish  the 
dice  with  his  heel.  Perhaps  the  jest  may  be  tnie, 
and  that  men  sometimes  played  till  they  sold 
even  their  beards  to  cram  tennis-balls  or  stuff 
cushions.  The  patron  often  paid  for  the  wine  or 
disbursed  for  the  whole  dinner.  Then  the  drawer 
came  round  with  his  wooden  knife,  and  scraped  off 
the  crusts  and  crumbs,  or  cleared  off  the  parings 
of  fruit  and  cheese  into  his  basket.  The  torn 
cards  were  thrown  into  the  fire,  the  guests  rose, 
rapiers  were  re-hung,  and  belts  buckled  on.  The 
post  news  was  heard,  and  the  reckonings  paid. 
The  French  lackey  and  Irish  footboy  led  out  the 


2'7S 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Paternoster  Ro\ii 


hobby  horses,  and  some  rode  off  to  the  play,  others 
to  the  river-stairs  to  take  a  pair  of  oars  to  the  Surrey 
side." 

The  "  Castle,"  where  Tarleton  has  so  often 
talked  of  Shakespeare  and  his  wit,  perished  in  the 
Great  Fire ;  but  was  afterwards  rebuilt,  and  here 
"  The  Castle  Society  of  Music "  gave  their  per- 
formances," no  doubt  aided  by  many  of  the  St. 
Paul's  Choir.  Part  of  the  old  premises  were  sub- 
sequently (says  Mr.  Timbs)  the  Oxford  Bible  Ware- 
house, destroyed  by  fire  in  1822,  and  since  rebuilt. 
"  Dolly's  Tavern,"  which  stood  near  the  "  Castle," 
derived  its  name  from  Dolly,  an  old  cook  of  the 
establishment,  whose  portrait  Gainsborough  painted. 
Bonnell  Thornton  mentions  the  beefsteaks  and  gill 
ale  at  "  Dolly's,"  The  coffee-room,  with  its  project- 
ing fire-places,  is  as  old  as  Queen  Anne.  The  head 
of  that  queen  is  painted  on  a  window  at  "  Dolly's," 
and  the  entrance  in  Queen's  Head  Passage  is 
christened  from  this  painting. 

The  old  taverns  of  London  are  to  be  found  in 
the  strangest  nooks  and  corners,  hiding  away  be- 
hind shops,  or  secreting  themselves  up  alleys. 
Unlike  the  Paris  ar/e,  which  delights  in  the  free 
sunshine  of  the  boulevard,  and  displays  its  harm- 
less revellers  to  the  passers-by,  the  London  tavern 
aims  at  cosiness,  quiet,  and  privacy.  It  partitions 
and  curtains -off  its  guests  as  if  they  were  con- 
spirators and  the  wine  they  drank  was  forbidden  by 
the  law.  Of  such  taverns  the  "  Chapter"  is  a  good 
example. 

The  "  Chapter  Coffee  House,"  at  the  corner  of 
Chapter  House  Court,  was  in  the  last  century 
famous  for  its  punch,  its  pamphlets,  and  its  news- 
papers. As  lawyers  and  authors  frequented  the 
Fleet  Street  taverns,  so  booksellers  haunted  the 
"  Chapter."  Bonnell  Thornton,  in  the  Connoisseur, 
Jan.,  1754,  says: — "The  conversation  here  natu- 
rally turns  upon  the  newest  publications,  but  their 
criticisms  are  somewhat  singular.  When  they  say 
a  gooii  book  they  do  not  mean  to  praise  the  style 
or  sentiment,  but  the  quick  and  extensive  sale  of 
it     That  book  is  best  which  sells  most." 

In  1770  Chatterton,  in  one  of  those  apparently 
hopeful  letters  he  wrote  home  while  in  reality 
his  proud  heart  was  breaking,  says  : — "  I  am  quite 
familiar  at  the  '  Chapter  Coffee  House,'  and  know 
all  the  geniuses  there,"  He  desires  a  friend  to 
send  him  whatever  he  has  published,  to  be  left  at 
the  "  Chapter."  So,  again,  writing  from  the  King's 
Bench,  he  says  a  gentleman  whom  he  met  at  the 
*'  Chapter  "  had  promised  to  introduce  him  as  a  tra- 
velling tutor  to  the  young  Duke  of  Northumber- 
land ;  "  but,  alas  !  I  spoke  no  tongue  but  my  own." 

Perhaps  that  very  day  Chatterton   came,   half 


starved,  and  listened  with  eager  ears  to  great 
authors  talking.  Oliver  Goldsmith  dined  there, 
vnth  Lloyd,  that  reckless  friend  of  still  more  reck- 
less Churchill,  and  some  Grub  Street  cronies,  and 
had  to  pay  for  the  lot,  Lloyd  having  quite  for- 
gotten the  important  fact  that  he  was  moneyless. 
Goldsmith's  favourite  seat  at  the  "  Chapter"  became 
ajseat  of  honour,  and  was  pointed  out  to  visitors. 
Leather  tokens  of  the  coffee-house  are  still  in 
existence. 

Mrs.  Gaskell  has  sketched  the  "  Chapter"  in 
1848,  with  its  low  heavy-beamed  ceilings,  wains- 
coted rooms,  and  its  broad,  dark,  shallow  stair- 
case. She  describes  it  as  formerly  frequented  by 
university  men,  country  clergymen,  and  country 
booksellers,  who,  friendless  in  London,  liked  to  hear 
the  literary  chat.  Few  persons  slept  there,  and 
in  a  long,  low,  dingy  room  up-stairs  the  periodical 
meetings  of  the  trade  were  held.  "  The  high, 
narrow  windows  looked  into  the  gloomy  Row." 
Nothing  of  motion  or  of  change  could  be  seen  in 
the  grim,  dark  houses  opposite,  so  near  and  close, 
although  the  whole  width  of  the  Row  was  between. 
The  mighty  roar  of  London  ran  round  like  the 
sound  of  an  unseen  ocean,  yet  every  footfall  on 
the  pavement  below  might  be  heard  distinctly  in 
that  unfrequented  street. 

The  frequenters  of  the  "Chapter  Coffee  House" 
(1797 — 1805)  have  been  carefully  described  by 
Sir  Richard  Phillips.  Alexander  Stevens,  editor 
of  the  "  Annual  Biography  and  Obituary,"  was 
one  of  the  choice  spirits  who  met  nightly  in  the 
"  Wittinagemot,"  as  it  was  called,  or  the  north- 
east corner  box  in  the  coffee-room.  The  neigh- 
bours, who  dropped  in  directly  the  morning  papers 
arrived,  and  before  they  were  dried  by  the  waiter, 
were  called  the  Wet  Paper  Club,  and  another  set 
intercepted  the  wet  evening  papers.  Dr.  Buchan, 
author  of  that  murderous  book,  "  Domestic  Medi- 
cine," which  (teaches  a  man  how  to  kill  himself 
and  family  cheaply,  generally  acted  as  moderator. 
He  was  a  handsome,  white-haired  man,  a  Tory, 
a  good-humoured  companion,  and  a  don  vivant. 
If  any  one  began  to  complain,  or  appear  hypo- 
chondriacal, he  used  to  say — 

"  Now  let  me  prescribe  for  you,  without  a  fee. 

Here,  John,  bring  a  glass  of  punch  for  Mr.  ■ , 

unless  he  likes  brandy  and  water  better.  Now, 
take  that,  sir,  and  I'll  warrant  you'll  soon  be  well. 
You're  a  peg  too  low ;  you  want  stimulus ;  and  if 
one  glass  won't  do,  call  for  a  second." 

Dr.  Gower,  the  urbane  and  able  physician  of 
the  Middlesex  Hospital,  was  another  frequent 
visitor,  as  also  that  great  eater  and  worker,  Dr. 
Fordyce,  whose  balance  no  potations  could  disturb. 


Paternoster  Row.] 


EVENINGS  AT  THE  CHAPTER   COFFEE   HOUSE. 


279 


Fordyce  had  fashionable  practice,  and  brought 
rare  news  and  much  sound  information  on  general 
subjects.  He  came  to  the  "Chapter"  from  his 
wine,  stayed  about  an  hour,  and  sipped  a  glass  of 
brandy  and  water.  He  then  took  another  glass 
at  the  "  London  Coffee  House,"  and  a  third  at  the 
"Oxford,"  then  wound  home  to  his  house  in  Essex 
Street,. Strand.  The  three  doctors  seldom  agreed 
on  medical  subjects,  and  laughed  loudly  at  each 
other's  theories.  They  all,  however,  agreed  in 
regarding  the  "  Chapter "  punch  as  an  infallible 
and  safe  remedy  for  all  ills. 

The  standing  men  in  the  box  were  Hammond 
and  Murray.  Hammond,  a  Coventry  manufac- 
turer, had  scarcely  missed  an  evening  at  the 
"Chapter"  for  forty-five  years.  His  strictures  on  the 
events  of  the  day  were  thought  severe  but  able, 
and  as  a  friend  of  liberty  he  had  argued  all  through 
the 'times  of  Wilkes  and  the  French  and  American 
wars.  His  Socratic  arguments  were  very  amusing. 
Mr.  Murray,  the  great  referee  of  the  ^\lttinagemot, 
was  a  Scotch  minister,  who  generally  sat  at  the 
"Chapter"  reading  papers  from  9  a.m.  to  9  p.m. 
He  was  known  to  have  read  straight  through  every 
morning  and  evening  paper  published  in  London 
for  thirty  years.  His  memory  was  so  good  that  he 
was  always  appealed  to  for  dates  and  matters  of 
fact,  but  his  mind  was  not  remarkable  for  general 
lucidity.  Other  friends  of  Stevens's  were  Dr. 
Birdmore,  the  Master  of  the  Charterhouse,  who 
abounded  in  anecdote ;  Walker,  the  rhetorician 
and  dictionary  -  maker,  a  most  intelligent  man, 
with  a  fine  enunciation  ,  and  Dr.  Towers,  a  poli- 
tical writer,  who  over  his  half-pint  of  Lisbon  grew 
sarcastic  and  lively.  Also  a  grumbling  man  named 
Dobson,  who  between  asthmatic  paroxysms  vented 
his  spleen  on  all  sides.  Dobson  was  an  author 
and  paradox-monger,  but  so  devoid  of  principle 
that  he  was  deserted  by  all  his  friends,  and  would 
have  died  from  want,  if  Dr.  Garthshore  had  not 
placed  him  as  a  patient  in  an  empty  fever  hospital. 
Robinson,  "  the  king  of  booksellers,"  and  his 
sensible  brother  John  were  also  frequenters  of  the 
"  Chapter,"  as  well  as  Joseph  Johnson,  the  friend 
of  Priestley,  Paine,  Cowper,  and  Fuseli,  from 
St.  Paul's  Churchyard.  Phillips,  the  speculative 
bookseller,  then  commencing  his  Monthly  Magazine, 
came  to  the  "Chapter"  to  look  out  for  recruits,  and 
with  his  pockets  well  lined  with  guineas  to  enlist 
lliem.  He  used  to  describe  all  the  odd  characters 
at  this  coffee-house,  from  the  glutton  in  politics, 
who  waited  at  daylight  for  the  morning  papers,  to 
tlie  moping  and  disconsolate  bachelor,  who  sat 
till  the  fire  was  raked  out  by  the  sleepy  waiter  at 
half-past  twelve  ;it  night,     These  strange  figures 


succeeded  each  other  regularly,  like  the  figures  in 
a  magic  lantern. 

Alexander  Chalmers,  editor  of  many  works, 
enlivened  the  Wittinagemot  by  many  sallies  of 
wit  and  humour.  He  took  great  pains  not  to  be 
mistaken  for  a  namesake  of  his,  who,  he  used  to 
say,  carried  "  the  leaden  mace."  Other  habitues 
were  the  two  Parrys,  of  the  Courier  and  Jacobite 
papers,  and  Captain  Skinner,  a  man  of  elegant 
manners,  who  represented  England  in  the  absurd 
procession  of  all  nations,  devised  by  that  German 
revolutionary  fanatic,  Anacharsis  Clootz,  in  Paris 
in  1793.  Baker,  an  ex-Spitalfields  manufacturer, 
a  great  talker  and  eater,  joined  the  coterie  regu- 
larly, till  he  shot  himself  at  his  lodgings  in  Kirby 
Street.  It  was  discovered  that  his  only  meal 
in  the  day  had  been  the  nightly  supper  at  the 
"  Chapter,"  at  the  fixed  price  of  a  shilling,  with  a 
supplementary  pint  of  porter.  When  the  shilling 
could  no  longer  be  found  for  the  supper,  he  killed 
himself. 

Among  other  members  of  these  pleasant  coteries 
were  Lowndes,  the  electrician ;  Dr.  Busby,  the 
musician  ;  Cooke,  the  well-bred  writer  of  conversa- 
tion ;  and  Macfarlane,  the  author  of  "  The  History 
of  George  III.,"  who  was  eventually  killed  by  a 
blow  from  the  pole  of  a  coach  during  an  election 
procession  of  Sir  Francis  Burdett  at  Brentford. 
Another  celebrity  was  a  young  man  named  Wilson, 
called  Langton,  from  his  stories  of  the  haut  ton. 
He  ran  up  a  score  of  ^^40,  and  then  disappeared, 
to  the  vexation  of  Mrs.  Brown,  the  landlady,  who 
would  willingly  have  welcomed  him,  even  though 
he  never  paid,  as  a  means  of  amusing  and  detaining 
customers.  Waithman,  the  Common  Councilman, 
was  always  clear-headed  and  agreeable.  There 
was  also  Mr.  Paterson,  a  long-headed,  speculative 
North  Briton,  who  had  taught  Pitt  mathematics. 
But  such  coteries  are  like  empires ;  they  have 
their  rise  and  their  fall.  Dr.  Buchan  died  ;  T?ome 
pert  young  sparks  oifended  the  Nestor,  Hammond, 
who  gave  up  the  place,  after  forty-five  years'  attend- 
ance, and  before  1820  the  "Chapter"  grew  silent 
and  (lull. 

The  fourth  edition  of  Dr.  — — ell's  "Antient  and 
Modern  Geograpliy,"  says  Nicholls,  was  published 
by  an  association  of  respectable  booksellers,  who 
about  the  year  17 19  entered  into  an  especial  part- 
nership, for  the  purpose  of  printing  some  expensive 
works,  and  styled  themselves  "  the  Printing  Conger." 
The  term  "Conger"  was  supposed  to  have  been 
at  first  applied  to  them  invidiously,  alluding  to  the 
conger  eel,  which  is  said  to  swallow  the  smaller 
fry ;  or  it  may  possibly  have  been  taken  from  coU' 
geries.     The  "  Conger"  met  at  the  "  Chapter." 


2  So 


OLD  AND    NEW  '1.0ND0N. 


[Paternoster  Row. 


The  "  Chapter"  closed  as  a  coffee-house  in  1854, 
and  was  altered  into  a  tavern. 

One  tragic  memory,  and  one  alone,  as  far  as  we 
know,  attaches  to  Paternoster  Row.  It  was  here, 
in  the  reign  of  James  I.,  that  Mrs.  Anne  Turner 
lived,  at  whose  house  the  poisoning  of  Sir  Thomas 
Overbury  was  planned.  It  was  here  that  Viscount 
Rochester  met  the  infamous  Countess  of  Essex ; 
and  it  was  Overbury's  violent  opposition  to  this 
shameful  intrigue  that  led  to  his  death  from  arsenic 
and  diamond-dust,  administered  in  the  Tower  by 
Weston,  a  servant  of  Mrs.  Turner's,  who  received 
;^i8o  for  his  trouble.  Rochester  and  the  Countess 
were  disgraced,  but  their  lives  were  spared.  The 
Earl  of  Northampton,  an  accomplice  of  the 
countess,  died  before  Overbury  succumbed  to  his 
three  months  of  torture. 

"  Mrs.  Turner,"  says  Sir  Simonds  d'Ewes,  had 
"  first  brought  up  that  vain  and  foolish  use  of 
yellow  starch,  coming  herself  to  her  trial  in  a  yellow 
band  and  cuffs  ;  and  therefore,  when  she  was  after- 
wards executed  at  Tyburn,  the  hangman  had  his 
band  and  cuffs  of  the  same  colour,  which  made 
many  after  that  day,  of  either  sex,  to  forbear  the 
use  of  that  coloured  starch,  till  at  last  it  grew  gene- 
rally to  be  detested  and  disused." 

In  a  curious  old  print  of  West  Chepe,  date  1585, 
in  the  vestry-room  of  St.  Vedast's,  Foster  Lane,  we 
see  St.  Michaels,  on  the  north  side  of  Paternoster 
Row.  It  is  a  plain  dull  building,  with  a  low 
square  tower  and  pointed-headed  windows.  It  was 
chiefly  remarkable  as  the  burial-place  of  that  inde- 
fatigable antiquary,  John  Leland.  This  laborious 
man,  educated  at  St.  Paul's  School,  was  one  of 
the  earliest  Greek  scholars  in  England,  and  one  of 
the  deepest  students  of  Welsh  and  Saxon.  Henry 
VI 1 1,  made  him  one  of  his  chaplains,  bestowed  on 
him  several  benefices,  and  gave  him  a  roving  com- 
mission to  visit  the  ruins  of  England  and  Wales  and 
inspect  the  records  of  collegiate  and  cathedral 
libraries.  He  spent  six  years  in  this  search,  and 
collected  a  vast  mass  of  material,  then  retired 
to  his  house  in  the  parish  of  St.  Michael-le-Quern 
to  note  and  arrange  his  treasures.  His  mind, 
however,  broke  down  under  the  load  :  he  became 
insane,  and  died  in  that  dreadful  darkness  of  the 
soul,  1552.  His  great' work,  "The  Itinerary  of 
Great  Britain,"  was  not  published  till  after  his 
death.  His  large  collections  relating  to  London 
antiquities  were,  unfortunately  for  us,  lost.  The  old 
church  of  "St.  Michael  ad  Bladum,"'  says  Strype,  "or 
*at  the  Corn'  (corruptly  called  the  '  Quern')  was  so 
called  because  in  place  thereof  was  sometime  a  corn- 
market,  stretching  up  west  to  the  shambles.  It 
geemeth  that  this  church  was  first  builded  about 


the  reign  of  Edward  HI.     Thomas  Newton,  fust 
parson  there,  was  buried  in  the  quire,  in  the  year 
1361,  which  was  the  35th  of  Edward  III.     At  the 
east  end  of  this  church  stood  an  old  cross  called 
the  Old  Cross  in  West-cheap,  which   was   taken 
down  in  the  13th  Richard  II.;  since  the  which  time 
the  said  parish  church  was  also  taken  down,  but 
new  builded  and  enlarged  in  the  year  1430 ;  the 
8th  Henry  VI.,  William  Eastfield,  mayor,  and  the 
commonalty,  granting  of  the  common  soil  of  the 
City  three  toot  and  a  half  in  breadth  on  tlie  north 
part,  and  four  foot  in  breadth  towards  the  east,  for 
the  inlarging  thereof     This  church  was  repaired, 
and  with  all  things  either  for  use  or  beauty,  richly 
supplied  and  furnished,  at  the  sole  cost  and  charge 
of  the   parishioners,    in    161 7.     This   church  was 
burnt  do\vn  in  the  Great  Fire,  and  remains  unbuilt, 
and  laid  into  the  street,  but  the  conduit  which  was 
formerly  at  the  east  end  of  the  church  still  remains. 
The  parish  is  united  to  St.  Vedast,  Foster  Lane. 
At  the  east  end  of  this  church,  in  place  of  the  old 
cross,  is  now  a  water-conduit  placed.      William 
Eastfield,  maior,  the  9th  Henry  VL,  at  the  request 
of  divers  common  councels,  granted  it  so  to  be. 
Whereupon,  in  the  19th  of  the  said  Henry,  1,000 
marks  was  granted  by  a  common  councel  towards 
the  works  of  this  conduit,  and  the  reparation  of 
others.     This  is  called  the  Little  Conduit  in  West 
Cheap,  by  Paul's  Gate.     At  the  west  end  of  this 
parish  church  is  a  small  passage  for  people  on  foot, 
thorow  the  same  church  ;  and  west  from  the  same 
church,  some  distance,  is  another  passage  out  of 
Paternoster   Row,   and  is  called  (of  such  a  sign) 
Panyer  Alley,  which  cometh  out  into  the  north, 
over  against  St.  Martin's  Lane. 

'  When  you  have  sought  the  city  round, 
Yet  still  this  is  the  highest  ground. 
August  27,  1688.' 

This  is  writ  upon  a  stone  raised,  about  the  middle 
of  this  Panier  Alley,  having  the  figure  of  a  panier, 
with  a  boy  sitting  upon  it,  with  a  bunch  of  grapes, 
as  it  seems  to  be,  held  between  his  naked  foot 
and  hand,  in  token,  perhaps,  of  plenty." 

At  the  end  of  a  somewhat  long  Latin  epitaph 
to  Marcus  Erington  in  this  church  occurred  the 
following  lines : — 

'*  Vita  bonos,  sed  poena  malos,  oeterna  capessit, 
Vita;  Vjonis,  sed  poena  malis,  per  secula  crescit. 
His  mors,  his  vita,  perpetuatur  ita." 

John  Bankes,  mercer  and  squire,  who  was  interred 
here,  had  a  long  epitaph,  adorned  with  the  following 
verses :  — 

"  Imbalmed  in  pious  arts,  wrapt  in  a  shroud 
Of  white,  innocuous  charity,  who  vowed, 
Having  enough,  the  world  should  understand 
No  need  of  money  might  escape  his  hand ; 


Baynard's  Castle.  1 


ST.  MICHAEL  AD   BLADUM. 


281 


Bankf  s  here  is  laid  asleepe — this  place  did  breed  him- 

A  precedent  to  all  that  shall  succeed  him. 

Note  both  his  life  and  inimitable  end; 

Not  he  th'  unrighteous  mammon  made  his  friend; 

Expressing  by  his  talents'  rich  increase 

Service  that  gain'd  him  praise  and  lasting  peace. 

Much  was  to  him  committed,  much  he  gave, 

Ent'ring  his  treasure  there  whence  all  shall  have 

Returne  with  use  :  what  to  the  poore  is  given 


Claims  a  just  promise  of  reward  in  heaven. 
Even  such  a  banke  Bankcs  left  behind  at  last. 
Riches  stor'd  up,  which  age  nor  time  can  waste." 

On  part  of  the  site  of  the  church  of  this  parish, 
after  the  fire  of  London  in  1666,  was  erected  a 
conduit  for  supplying  the  neighbourhood  with 
water ;  but  the  same  being  found  unnecessary,  it 
was,  with  others,  pulled  down  anno  1727. 


.     CHAPTER    XXIV. 
BAYNARD'S   CASTLE,   DOCTORS'  COMMONS,  AND   HERALDS'  COLLEGE. 

I^aron  Fitzwalter  and  King  John— The  Duties  of  the  Chief  Bannerer  of  London— An  Old-fashioned  Punishment  fof  Treason— Shakespeanan 
Allusions  to  Baynard's  Castle— Doctors'  Commons  and  its  Five  Courts— The  Court  of  Probate  Act,  1S57— The  Court  of  Arches— The  Will 
Office — Business  of  the  Court  —Prerogative  Court — Faculty  Office — Lord  Stowell,  the  Admiralty  Judge — Stories  of  Him — His  Marriage — 
Sir  Herbert  Jenner  Fust — The  Court  "Rising" — Dr.  Lushington — Marriage  Licenses— Old  Weller  and  the  "Touters" — Doctors'  Commons 
at  the  Present  Day. 


We  have  already  made  passing  mention  of  Baynard's 
Castle,  the  grim  fortress  near  Blackfriars  Bridge, 
immediately  below  St.  Paul's,  where  for  several 
centuries  after  the  Conquest,  Norman  barons  held 
their  state,  and  behind  its  stone  ramparts  main- 
tained their  petty  sovereignty. 

This  castle  took  its  name  from  Ralph  Baynard, 
one  of  those  greedy  and  warlike  Normans  who 
came  over  with  the  Conqueror,  who  bestowed  on 
him  many  marks  of  flivour,  among  others  the  sub- 
stantial gift  of  the  barony  of  Little  Dunmow,  in 
Essex.  This  chieftain  built  tlie  castle,  which  de- 
rived its  name  from  him,  and,  dying  in  the  reign 
of  Rufus,  the  castle  descended  to  his  grandson, 
Henry  Baynard,  who  in  iiii,  however,  forfeited  it 
to  the  Crown  for  taking  part  with  Helias,  Earl  of 
Mayne,  who  endeavoured  to  wrest  his  Norman 
possessions  from  Henry  I.  The  angry  king  be- 
stowed the  barony  and  castle  of  Baynard,  Avith  all 
its  honours,  on  Robert  Fitzgerald,  son  of  Gilbert, 
Earl  of  Clare,  his  steward  and  cup-bearer.  Robert's 
son,  Walter,  adhered  to  AVilliam  de  Longchamp, 
Bishop  of  Ely,  against  John,  Earl  of  Moreton, 
brother  of  Ricliard  Coeur  de  Lion.  He,  however, 
kept  tight  hold  of  the  river-side  castle,  which  duly 
descended  to  Robert,  his  son,  who  in  12 13  be- 
came castellan  and  standard-bearer  of  the  city, 
On  this  same  banneret,  in  the  midst  of  his 
pride  and  prosperity,  there  fell  a  great  sorrow. 
The  licentious  tyrant,  John,  who  spared  none  who 
crossed  his  passions,  fell  in  love  with  Matilda, 
Fitz-Walter's  fair  daughter,  and  finding  neither 
father  nor  daughter  compliant  to  his  will,  John 
accused  the  castellan  of  abetting  the  discontented 
barons,  and  attempted  his  arrest.     But  the  river- 


side fortress  was  convenient  for  escape,  and  Fitz- 
Walter  flew  to  France.  Tradition  says  that  in 
1 2 14  King  John  invaded  France,  but  that  after 
a  time  a  truce  was  made  between  the  two  nations 
for  five  years.  There  was  a  river,  or  arm  of 
the  sea,  flowing  between  the  French  and  English 
tents,  and  across  this  flood  an  English  knight, 
hungry  for  a  fight,  called  out  to  the  soldiers  of  the 
Fleur  de  Lis  to  come  over  and  try  a  joust  or  two 
with  him.  At  once  Robert  Fitz-Walter,  with  his 
visor  down,  ferried  over  alone  with  his  barbed  horse, 
and  mounted  ready  for  the  fray.  At  the  first  course 
he  struck  John's  knight  so  fiercely  with  his  great 
spear,  that  both  man  and  steed  came  rolling  in  a 
clashing  heap  to  the  ground.  Never  was  spear 
better  broken  ;  and  when  the  squires  had  gathered 
up  their  discomfited  master,  and  the  supposed 
French  knight  had  recrossed  the  ferry,  King  John, 
who  delighted  in  a  well-ridden  course,  cried  out, 
with  his  usual  oatli,  "  By  God's  sooth,  he  were  a 
king  indeed  who  had  such  a  knight ! "  Then  the 
friends  of  the  banished  man  seized  their  oppor- 
tunity, and  came  running  to  the  usurper,  and  knelt 
down  and  said,  "  O  king,  he  is  your  knight ;  it  was 
Robert  Fitz-Walter  who  ran  that  joust."  Where- 
upon John,  who  could  be  generous  when  he  could 
gain  anything  by  it,  sent  the  next  day  for  the  good 
knight,  and  restored  him  to  his  favour,  allowed 
him  to  rebuild  Baynard's  Castle,  which  had  been 
demolished  by  royal  order,  and  made  him,  more- 
over, governor  of  the  Castle  of  Hertford. 

But  Fitz-Walter  could  not  forget  the  grave  of 
his  daughter,  still  green  at  Dunmow  (for  Matilda, 
indomitable  in  her  chastity,  had  been  poisoned  by 
a    messenger  of  John's,  who  sprinkled    a  deadly 


zM 


OLD  ANt)   ^E\V  LONDON. 


tBaynard's  CaslJe. 


powder  over  a  poached  egg — at  least,  so  the  legend 
runs),v  and  soon  placed  hmiself  at  the  head  of  those 
brave  barons  Avho  the  next  year  forced  the  tyrant 
to  sign  Magna  Charta  at   Runnymede.     He  was 
aftenvards  chosen  general  of  the  barons'  army,  to 
keep  John  to  his  word,  and  styled  "Marshal  of 
the  Army  of  (iod  and  of  the  Church."     He  then 
(not   having    had    knocks    enough    in    England) 
joined  the  Crusaders,  and  was  present  at  the  great 
siege  of  Damietta.     In 
1 216   (the  first  year  of 
Henry  HL)  Fitz-Walter 
again    appears    to    the 
front,  watchful  of  English 
liberty,  for  his  Castle  of 
Hertford    having    been 
delivered    to    Louis   of 
France,    the   dangerous 
ally  of  the   barons,   he 
required  of  the  French 
to     leave     the      same, 
"  because    the   keeping 
thereof  did  by  ancient 
right  and  title  pertain  to 
him."     On  which  Louis, 
says  Stow,    prematurely 
showing   his   claws,   re- 
plied  scornfully     "  that 
Englishmen    were     not 
worthy    to    have    such 
holds   in   keeping,     be- 
cause  they  did    betray 
their   own    lord;"     but 
Louis  not  long  after  left 
England      rather     sud- 
denly,    accelerated    no 
doubt  by  certain  move- 
ments of  Fitz-Walter  and 
his  brother  barons. 

Fitz-Walter  dying,  and 
being  buried  at  Dunmow, 
the  scene  of  his  joys  and 
sorrows,  was  succeeded 

by  his  son  Walter,  who  was  summoned  to  Chester 
in  the  forty-third  year  of  Henry  HL,  to  repel 
the  fierce  and  half-savage  Welsh  from  the  English 
frontier.  After  Walter's  death  the  barony  of  Bay- 
nard  was  in  the  wardship  of  Henry  IH.  during  the 
minority  of  Robert  Fitz-Walter,  who  in  1303  claimed 
his  right  as  castellan  and  banner-bearer  of  the  City 
of  London  before  John  Blandon,  or  Blount,  Mayor 
of  London.  The  old  formularies  on  which  Fitz- 
Walter  founded  his  claims  are  quoted  by  Stow 
from  an  old  record  which  is  singularly  quaint  and 
picturesque.     The  chief  clauses  run  thus  : — 


.J HE   FIGURE   IN    I^ANIEK   ALLEY  {sw ptlt^e  2cO). 


"  The  said  Robert  and  his  heirs  are  and  ought 
to  be  chief  bannerets  of  London  in  fee,  for  the 
chastiliary  which  he  and  his  ancestors  had  by 
Castle  Baynard  in  the  said  city.  In  time  of  war  the 
said  Robert  and  his  heirs  ought  to  serve  the  city 
in  manner  as  foUoweth — that  is,  the  said  Robert 
ought  to  come,  he  being  the  twentieth  man  of 
arms,  on  horseback,  covered  with  cloth  or  armour, 
unto  the  great  west   door  of  St.  Paul's,  with  his 

banner  displayed  before 
him,  and  when  he  is  so 
come,  mounted  and  ap- 
parelled, the  mayor,  with 
his  aldermen  and  sheriffs 
armed  Avith   their  arms, 
shall   come   out  of  the 
said     church     with      a 
banner  in  his  hand,  all 
on   foot,  whicli   banner 
shall  be  gules,  the  image 
of   St.    Paul    gold,  the 
face,    hands,    feet,    and 
sword  of  silver;  and  as 
soon  as   the  earl  seeth 
the  mayor  come  on  foot 
out  of  the  church,  bear- 
ing   such  a  banner,  he 
shall    alight     from     his 
horse     and    salute    the 
mayor,  saying  unto  him, 
'Sir  mayor,  I  am  come 
to  do  my  service  which 
I  owe  to  the  city.'   And 
the  mayor  and  aldermen 
shall  reply,  '  We  give  to 
you  as  our  banneret  of 
fee  in  this  city  the  banner 
of  this  city,  to  bear  and 
govern,  to  the  honour  of 
this  city  to  your  power ; ' 
and  the  earl,  taking  the 
banner    in    his    hands, 
shall  go  on  foot  out  of 
the  gate ;  and  the  mayor  and  his  company  following 
to  the  door,  shall  bring  a  horse  to  the  said  Robert, 
value  twenty  pounds,  which  horse  shall  be  saddled 
with  a  saddle  of  the  arms  of  the  said  earl,  and 
shall  be  covered    with   sindals  of  the  said   arms. 
Also,   they  shall   present  him  a  purse  of  twenty 
pounds,    delivering  it  to  his  chamberlain,  for  his 
charges  that  day." 

The  record  goes  on  to  say  that  when  Robert  is 
mounted  on  his  ;^2o  horse,  banner  in  hand,  he  shall 
require  the  mayor  to  appoint  a  City  Marshal  (we 
have  all  seen  him  with  his  cocked  hat  and  subdued 


Baynard's  Castle.] 


fitz-wAlter's  rights. 


283 


commander-in-chief  manner),  "and  the  commons 
shall  then  assemble  under  the  banner  of  St.  Paul, 
Robert  bearing  the  banner  to  Aldgate,  and  then 
delivering  it  up  to  some  fit  person.  And  if  the 
army  have  to  go  out  of  the  city,  Robert  shall 
choose  two  sage  persons  out  of  every  ward  to  keep 
the  city  in  the  absence  of  the  army."  And  these 
guardians  were  to  be  chosen  in  the  priory  of  the 
Trinity,  near  Aldgate.  And  for  every  town  or 
castle  which  the  Lord  of  London  besieged,  if  the 


of  the  mayor  or  sheriff,  was  to  be  tried  in  the 
court  of  the  said  Robert. 

"  If  any,  therefore,  be  taken  in  his  sokemanry,  he 
must  have  his  stocks  and  imprisonment  in  his 
soken,  and  he  shall  be  brought  before  the  mayor 
and  judgment  given  him,  but  it  must  not  be  pub- 
lished till  he  come  into  the  court  of  the  said 
earl,  and  in  his ,  liberty ;  and  if  he  have  deserved 
death  by  treason,  he  is  to  be  tied  to  a  post  in  the 
Thames,  at  a  good  wharf,  where  boats  are  fastened, 


THE  CHURCH   OF  ST.  MICHAEL  AD   BLADUM  {^seepage  2S0). 


siege  continued  a  whole  year,  the  said  Robert  was 
to  receive  for  every  siege,  of  the  commonalty,  one 
hundred  shillings  and  no  more.  These  were 
Robert  Fitz-Walter's  rights  in  times  of  war;  in 
times  of  peace  his  rights  were  also  clearly  defined. 
His  sok  or  ward  in  the  City  began  at  a  Avail  of  St. 
Paul's  canonry,  which  led  down  by  the  brewhouse 
of  St.  Paul's  to  the  river  Thames,  and  so  to  the 
side  of  a  wall,  which  was  in  the  water  coming 
down  from  Fleet  Bridge.  The  ward  went  on  by 
London  Wall,  behind  the  house  of  the  Black 
Friars,  to  Ludgate,  and  it  included  all  the  parish  of 
St.  Andrew.  Any  of  his  sokemen  indicted  at  the 
Guildhall  of  any  offence  not  touching  the   body 


two  ebbings  and  two  flowings  of  the  water  ( !)  And 
if  he  be  condemned  for  a  common  theft,  he  ought 
to  be  led  to  the  elms,  and  there  suffer  his  judgment 
as  other  thieves.  And  so  the  said  earl  hath 
honour,  that  he  holdeth  a  great  franchise  within  the 
city,  that  the  mayor  must  do  him  right ;  and  when  he 
holdeth  a  great  council,  he  ought  to  call  the  said 
Robert,  who  should  be  sworn  thereof,  against  all 
people,  saving  the  king  and  his  heirs.  And  when 
he  Cometh  to  the  hustings  at  Guildhall,  the  mayor 
ought  to  rise  against  him,  and  sit  down  jiear  him, 
so  long  as  he  remaineth,  all  judgments  being  given 
by  his  mouth,  according  to  the  records  of  the  said 
Guildhall ;    and   the   waifes    that   come   while  he 


2§4^ 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDO^f. 


fBaynard's  Castl*. 


stayeth,  he  ought  to  give  them  to  the  town  bailiff, 
or  to  whom  he  will,  by  the  counsel  of  the  mayor/' 

This  old  record  seems  to  us  especially  quaint 
and  picturesque.  The  right  of  banner-bearer  to 
the  City  of  London  was  evidently  a  privilege  not  to 
be  despised  by  even  the  proudest  Norman  baron, 
however  numerous  were  his  men-at-arms,  however 
thick  the  forest  of  lances  that  followed  at  his  back. 
At  the  gates  of  many  a  refractory  Essex  or  Hertford- 
shire castle,  no  doubt,  the  Fitz-Walters  flaunted 
that  great  banner,  that  was  emblazoned  with  tlie 
image  of  St.  Paul,  with  golden  face  and  silver  feet ; 
and  the  horse  valued  at  ;^20,  and  the  pouch  with 
twenty  golden  pieces,  must  by  no  means  have 
lessened  the  zeal  and  pride  of  the  City  castellan  as 
he  led  on  his  trusty  archers,  or  urged  forward  the 
half-stripped,  sinewy  men,  who  toiled  at  the  cata- 
pult, or  bent  down  the  mighty  springs  of  the 
terrible  mangonel.  Many  a  time  through  Aldgate 
must  the  castellan  have  passed  with  glittering 
armour  and  flaunting  plume,  eager  to  earn  his 
hundred  shillings  by  the  siege  of  a  rebellious  town. 

Then  Robert  was  knighted  by  Edward  I.,  and 
the  family  continued  in  high  honour  and  reputa- 
tion through  many  troubles  and  public  calamities. 
In  the  reign  of  Henry  VI.,  when  the  male  branch 
died  out,  Anne,  the  heiress,  married  into  the  Rat- 
cliffe  family,  who  revived  the  title  of  Fitz-^Valter. 

It  is  not  known  how  this  castle  came  to  the 
Crown,  but  certain  it  is  that  on  its  being  consumed 
by  fire  in  1428  (Henry  VI.),  it  was  rebuilt  by  Hum- 
phrey, the  good  duke  of  Gloucester.  On  his 
deatli  it  was  made  a  royal  residence  by  Henry 
VI.,  and  by  him  granted  to  the  Duke  of  York, 
his  luckless  rival,  who  lodged  here  with  his 
factious  retainers  during  the  lulls  in  the  wars  of 
York  and  Lancaster.  In  the  year  1460,  the  Earl 
of  March,  lodging  in  Castle  Baynard,  was  informed 
that  his  army  and  the  Earl  of  Warwick  had 
declared  that  Henry  VI.  was  no  longer  worthy  to 
reign,  and  had  chosen  him  for  their  king.  The 
carl  coquetted,  as  usurpers  often  dp,  with  these 
offers  of  the  crown,  declaring  his  insufficiency  for 
so  great  a  charge,  till  yielding  to  the  exhortations 
of  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  the  Bishop  of 
Exeter,  he  at  last  consented.  On  the  next  day  he 
went  to  St.  Paul's  in  procession,  to  hear  the  Tc 
Deum,  and  was  then  conveyed  in  state  to  West- 
minster, and  there,  in  the  Hall,  invested  with  the 
sceptre  by  the  confessor. 

At  Baynard's  Castle,  too,  that  cruel  usurper, 
Richard  III.,  practised  the  same  arts  as  his  pre- 
decessor. Shakespeare,  who  has  darkened  Richard 
almost  to  caricature,  has  left  him  the  greatest 
wretch  existing  in  fiction.      At  Baynard's   Castle 


our  great  poet  makes  Richard  receive  his  accom- 
plice Buckingham,  who  had  come  from  the  Guild- 
hall with  the  Lord  Mayor  and  aldermen  to  press 
him  to  accept  the  crown ;  Richard  is  found  by  the 
credulous  citizens  with  a  book  of  prayer  in  his 
hand,  standing  between  two  bishops.  This  man, 
who  was  already  planning  the  murder  of  Hastings 
and  the  two  princes  in  the  Tower,  affected  religious 
scruples,  and  with  well-feigned  reluctance  accepted 
"the  golden  yoke  of  sovereignty." 

Thus  at  Baynard's  Castle  begins  that  darker  part 
of  the  Crookback's  career,  which  led  on  by  crime 
after  crime  to  the  desperate  struggle  at  Bosworth, 
when,  after  slaying  his  rival's  standard-bearer, 
Richard  was  beaten  down  by  swords  and  axes,  and 
his  crown  struck  off  into  a  hawthorn  bush.  The 
defaced  corpse  of  the  usurper,  stripped  and  jjory, 
was,  as  the  old  chroniclers  tell  us,  thrown  over  a 
horse  and  carried  by  a  faithful  herald  to  be  buried 
at  Leicester.  It  is  in  vain  that  modern  writers  try 
to  prove  that  Richard  was  gentle  and  accomplished, 
that  this  murder  attributed  to  him  was  profitless 
and  impossible ;  his  name  will  still  remain  in 
history  blackened  and  accursed  by  charges  that 
the  great  poet  has  turned  into  truth,  and  Avhich, 
indeed,  are  diflicult  to  refute.  That  Richard  might 
have  become  a  great,  and  wise,  and  powerful  king, 
is  possible  ;  but  that  he  hesitated  to  commit  crimes 
to  clear  his  way  to  the  throne,  which  had  so  long 
been  struggled  for  by  the  Plouses  of  York  and 
Lancaster,  truth  forbids  us  for  a  moment  to  doubt. 
He  seems  to  have  been  one  of  those  dark,  wily 
natures  that  do  not  trust  even  their  most  intimate 
accomplices,  and  to  have  worked  in  such  darkness 
that  only  the  angels  know  what  blows  he  struck,  or 
what  murders  he  planned.  One  thing  is  certain, 
that  Henry,  Clarence,  Hastings,  and  the  princes 
died  in  terribly  quick  succession,  and  at  most  con- 
venient moments. 

Henry  VIII.  expended  large  sums  in  turning 
Baynard's  Castle  from  a  fortress  into  a  palace. 
He  frequently  lodged  there  in  burly  majesty, 
and  entertained  there  the  King  of  Castile,  who 
was  driven  to  England  by  a  tempest.  The  castle 
then  became  the  property  of  the  Pembroke  family, 
and  here,  in  July,  1553,  the  council  was  held  in 
which  it  was  resolved  to  proclaim  Mary  Queen  of 
England,  which  was  at  once  done  at  the  Cheapside 
Cross  by  sound  of  trumpet. 

Queen  Elizabeth,  who  delighted  to  honour  her 
special  favourites,  once  supped  at  Baynard's  Castle 
with  the  earl,  and  afterwards  went  on  the  river  to 
show  herself  to  her  loyal  subjects.  It  is  particu- 
larly mentioned  that  the  queen  returned  to  her 
palace  at  ten  o'clock. 


Doctors'  Commons.] 


DOCTORS'  COMMONS. 


285 


The  Earls  of  Shrewsbury  afterwards  occupied  the 
castle,  and  resided  there  till  it  was  burnt  in  the 
Great  Fire.  On  its  site  stand  the  Carron  works 
and  the  wharf  of  the  Castle  Baynard  Copper  Com- 
pany, 

Adjoining  Baynard's  Castle  once  stood  a  tower 
built  by  King  Edward  II.,  and  bestowed  by  him 
on  William  de  Ross,  for  a  rose  yearly,  paid  in 
lieu  of  all  other  services.  The  tower  was  in  later 
times  called  "  the  Legates'  Tower."  Westward 
of  this  stood  Montftchet  Castle,  and  eastward  of 
Baynard's  Castle  the  Tower  Royal  and  the  Tower 
of  London,  so  that  the  Thames  was  well  guarded 
from  Ludgate  to  the  citadel.  All  round  this 
neighbourhood,  in  the  Middle  Ages,  great  families 
clustered.  There  was  Beaumont  Inn,  near  Paul's 
Wharf,  which,  on  the  attainder  of  Lord  Bardolf, 
Edward  IV,  bestowed  on  his  favourite.  Lord 
Hastings,  whose  death  Richard  III.  (as  we  have 
seen)  planned  at  his  very  door.  It  was  after- 
wards Huntingdon  House.  Near  Trigg  Stairs  the 
Abbot  of  Chertsey  had  a  mansion,  afterwards  the 
residence  of  Lord  Sandys.  West  of  Paul's  Wharf 
(Henry  VI.)  was  Scroope's  Inn,  and  near  that  a 
house  belonging  to  the  Abbey  of  Fescamp,  given 
by  Edward  III.  to  Sir  Thomas  Burley.  Iii  Carter 
Lane  was  the  mansion  of  the  Priors  of  Okeborne, 
in  Wiltshire,  and  not  far  from  the  present  Puddle 
Dock  was  the  great  mansion  of  the  Lords  of 
Berkley,  where,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VI.,  the  king- 
making  Earl  of  Warwick  kept  tremendous  state, 
with  a  thousand  swords  ready  to  fly  out  if  he  even 
raised  a  finger. 

And  now,  leaving  barons,  usurpers,  and  plotters, 
we  come  to  the  Dean's  Court  archway  of  Doctors' 
Commons,  the  portal  guarded  by  ambiguous  touters 
for  licences,  men  in  white  aprons,  who  look  half 
like  confectioners,  and  half  like  disbanded  water- 
men. Here  is  the  college  of  Doctors  of  Law, 
provided  for  the  ecclesiastical  lawyers  in  the  early 
part  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign  by  Master  Henry 
Harvey,  Master  of  Trinity  Hall,  Cambridge,  Pre- 
bendary of  Ely,  and  Dean  of  the  Arches ;  accord- 
ing to  Sir  George  Howes,  "  a  reverend,  learned, 
and  good  man,"  The  house  had  been  inhabited 
by  Lord  Mountjoy,  and  Dr,  Harvey  obtained  a 
lease  of  it  for  one  hundred  years  of  the  Dean  and 
Chapter  of  St,  Paul's,  for  the  annual  rent  of  five 
marks.  Before  this  the  civilians  and  canonists  had 
lodged  in  a  small  inconvenient  house  in  Paternoster 
Row,  afterwards  the  "  Queen's  Head  Tavern." 
Cardinal  Wolsey,  always  magnificent  in  his  schemes, 
had  planned  a  "  fair  college  of  stone  "  for  the  eccle- 
siastical lawyers,  the  plan  of  which  Sir  Robert 
Cotton  possessed.     In   this   college,  in  1631,  says 


Buc,  the  Master  of  the  Revels,  lived  in  commons 
with  the  Judge  of  the  High  Court  of  Admiralty, 
being  a  doctor  of  civil  law,  the  Dean  of  the 
Arches,  the  Judges  of  the  Court  of  Delegates,  the 
Vicar-General,  and  the  Master  or  Custos  of  the 
Prerogative  Court  of  Canterbury. 

Doctors'  Commons,  says  Strype,  "  consists  of  five 
courts — three  appertaining  to  the  see  of  Canterbury, 
one  to  the  see  of  London,  and  one  to  the  Lords 
Commissioners  of  the  Admiralties."  The  functions 
of  these  several  courts  he  thus  defines  : — 

"Here  are  the  courts  kept  for  the  practice  of  civil 
or  ecclesiastical  causes.  Several  offices  are  also 
here  kept;  as  the  Registrary  of  the  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  and  the  Registrary  of  the  Bishop 
of  London. 

"The  causes  whereof  the  civil  and  ecclesiastical 
law  take  cognisance  are  those  that  follow,  as  they 
are  enumerated  in  the  'Present  State  of  Eng, 
land:' — Blasphemy,  apostacy  from  Christianity, 
heresy,  schism,  ordinations,  institutions  of  clerks  to 
benefices,  celebration  of  Divine  service,  matrimony, 
divorces,  l^astardy,  tythes,  oblations,  obventions, 
mortuaries,  dilapidations,  reparation  of  churches, 
probate  of  wills,  administrations,  simony,  incests, 
fornications,  adulteries,  solicitation  of  chastity  ] 
pensions,  procurations,  commutation  of  penance, 
right  of  pews,  and  other  such  like,  reducible  to 
those  matters. 

"The  courts  belonging  to  the  civil  and  eccle- 
siastical laws  are  divers. 

"  First,  the  Court  of  Arches,  which  is  the  highest 
court  belonging  to  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 
It  was  a  court  formerly  kept  in  Bow  Church  in 
Cheapside ;  and  the  church  and  tower  thereof 
being  arched,  the  court  was  from  thence  called 
The  Arches,  and  so  still  is  called.  Hither  are  all 
appeals  directed  in  ecclesiastical  matters  within  the 
province  of  Canterbury.  To  this  court  belongs  a 
judge  who  is  called  The  Dean  of  the  Arches,  so 
styled  because  he  hath  a  jurisdiction  over  a 
deanery  in  London,  consisting  of  thirteen  parishes 
exempt  from  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Bishop  of 
London,  This  court  hath  (besides  this  judge)  a 
registrar  or  examiner,  an  actuary,  a  beadle  or  crier, 
and  an  apparitor;  besides  advocates  and  pro- 
curators or  proctors.  These,  after  they  be  once 
admitted  by  warrant  and  commission  directed  from 
the  Archbishop,  and  by  the  Dean  of  the  Arches, 
may  then  (and  not  before)  exercise  as  advocates 
and  proctors  there,  and  in  any  other  courts. 

"Secondly,  the  Court  of  Audience.  This  was  a 
court  likewise  of  the  Archbishop's,  which  he  used 
to  hold  in  his  own  house,  where  he  received  causes, 
complaints,  and  appeals,  and  had  learned  civilians 


286 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Doctors'  Commons. 


living  with  him,  that  were  auditors  of  the  said 
causes  before  the  Archbishop  gave  sentence.  This 
court  was  kept  in  later  times  in  St.  Paul's.  The 
judge  belonging  to  this  court  was  stiled  '■Caiisarum, 
negotiorumque  Cantuarien,  auditor  officialis.'  It 
had  also  other  officers,  as  the  other  courts. 

"  Thirdly,  the  next  court  for  civil  causes  belonging 
to  the  Archbishop  is  the  Prerogative  Court,  wherein 
wills  and  testaments  are  proved,  and  all  administra- 
tions taken,  which  belongs  to  the  Archbishop  by 
his  prerogative,  that  is,  by  a  special  pre-eminence 
that  this  see  hath  in  certain  causes  above  ordinary 
bishops  within  his  province ;  this  takes  place  where  j 
the  deceased  hath  goods  to  the  value  of  j[^^  out  of 
the  diocese,  and  being  of  the  diocese  of  London, 
to  the  value  of  ^lo.  If  any  contention  grow, 
touching  any  such  wills  or  administrations,  the 
causes  are  debated  and  decided  in  this  court. 

"  Fourthly,  the  Court  of  Faculties  and  Dispensa- 
tions, whereby  a  privilege  or  special  power  is  granted 
to  a  person  by  favour  and  indulgence  to  do  that 
which  by  law  otherwise  he  could  not :  as,  to  marry, 
without  banns  first  asked  in  the  church  three 
several  Sundays  or  holy  days  ;  the  son  to  succeed 
his  father  in  his  benefice ;  for  one  to  have  two  or 
more  benefices  incompatible ;  for  non-residence, 
and  in  other  such  like  cases, 

"  Fifthly,  the  Court  of  Admiralty,  which  was 
erected  in  the  reign  of  Edward  III.  This  court 
belongs  to  the  Lord  High  Admiral  of  England,  a 
high  officer  that  hath  the  government  of  the  king's 
navy,  and  the  hearing  of  all  causes  relating  to 
merchants  and  mariners.  He  takes  cognisance 
of  the  death  or  mayhem  of  any  man  committed 
in  the  great  ships  riding  in  great  rivers,  beneath 
the  bridges  of  the  same  next  the  sea.  Also  he 
hath  power  to  arrest  ships  in  great  streams  for  the 
us2  of  the  king,  or  his  wars.  And  in  these  things 
this  court  is  concerned. 

"To  these  I  will  add  the  Court  o{  Delegates ; 
to  which  high  court  appeals  do  lie  from  any  of 
the  former  courts.  This  is  the  highest  court  for 
civil  causes.  It  was  established  by  an  Act  in  the 
25th  Henry  VIII.,  cap.  19,  wherein  it  was  enacted, 
'  That  it  should  be  lawful,  for  lack  of  justice  at  or 
in  any  of  the  Archbishop's  courts,  for  the  parties 
grieved  to  appeal  to  the  King's  Majesty  in  his 
Court  of  Chancery ;  and  that,  upon  any  such 
appeal,  a  commission  under  the  Great  Seal  should 
be  directed  to  such  persons  as  should  be  named  by 
the  king's  highness  (like  as  in  case  of  appeal  from 
the  Admiralty  Court),  to  determine  such  appeals, 
and  the  cases  concerning  the  same.  And  no  further 
appeals  to  be  had  or  made  from  the  said  commis- 
sioners for  the   same.'    These  commissioners  are 


appointed  judges  only  for  that  turn  ;  and  they  are 
commonly  of  the  spiritualty,  or  bishops ;  of  the 
common  law,  as  judges  of  Westminster  Hall ;  as 
well  as  those  of  the  civil  law.  And  these  are 
mixed  one  with  another,  according  to  the  nature  of 
the  cause. 

"  Lastly,  sometimes  a  Commission  of  Rniew  is 
granted  by  the  king  under  the  Broad  Seal,  to 
consider  and  judge  again  what  was  decreed  in  the 
Court  of  Delegates.  But  this  is  but  seldom,  and 
upon  great,  and  such  as  shall  be  judged  just, 
causes  by  the  Lord  Keeper  or  High  Chancellor. 
And  this  done  purely  by  the  king's  prerogative, 
since  by  the  Act  for  Delegates  no  further  appeals 
were  to  be  laid  or  made  from  those  commissioners, 
as  was  mentioned  before." 

The  Act  20  &  21  Vict,  cap.  7  7,  called  "The  Court 
of  Probate  Act,  1857,"  received  the  royal  assent 
on  the  25th  of  August,  1857.  This  is  the  great 
act  which  established  the  Court  of  Probate,  and 
abolished  the  jurisdiction  of  the  courts  ecclesiastical. 

The  following,  says  Mr.  Forster,  are  some  of  the 
benefits  resulting  from  the  reform  of  the  Eccle- 
siastical Courts  : — 

That  reform  has  reduced  the  depositaries  for  wills  in  this 
country  from  nearly  400  to  40. 

It  has  brought  complicated  testamentary  proceedings  into 
a  system  governed  by  one  vigilant  court. 

It  has  relieved  the  public  anxiety  respecting  "  the  doom 
of  English  wills  "  by  placing  them  in  the  custody  of  respon- 
sible men. 

It  has  thrown  open  the  courts  of  law  to  the  entire  legal 
profession. 

It  has  given  the  public  the  right  to  prove  wills  or  obtain 
letters  of  administration  without  professional  assistance. 

It  has  given  to  literary  men  an  interesting  field  for  research. 

It  has  provided  that  which  ancient  Rome  is  said  to  have 
possessed,  but  which  London  did  not  possess— viz.,  a  place  of 
deposit  for  the  wills  of  living  persons. 

It  has  extended  the  English  favourite  mode  of  trial— viz., 
trial  by  jury — by  admitting  jurors  to  try  the  validity  of  wills 
and  questions  of  divorce. 

It  has  made  divorce  not  a  matter  of  wealth  but  of  justice  : 
the  wealthy  and  the  poor  alike  now  only  require  a  clear  case 
and  "  no  collusion." 

It  has  enabled  the  humblest  wife  to  obtain  a  "protection 
order  "  for  her  property  against  an  unprincipled  husband. 

It  has  afforded  persons  wanting  to  establish  legitimacy,  the 
validity  of  marriages,  and  the  right*  to  be  deemed  natural 
born  sulijects,  the  means  of  so  doing. 

Amongst  its  minor  benefits  it  has  enabled  persons  needing 
copies  of  wills  which  have  been  proved  since  January,  1858, 
in  any  part  of  the  country,  to  obtain  them  from  the  principal 
registry  of  the  Court  of  Probate  in  Doctors'  Commons. 

Sir  Cresswell  Cresswell  was  appointed  Judge  of 
the  Probate  Court  at  its  commencement.  He  was 
likewise  the  first  Judge  of  the  Divorce  Court. 

The  College  property — the  freehold  portion, 
subject  to  a  yearly  rent-charge  oi £,\o^y  and  to  an 


Doctors'  Commons.] 


THE   COURT  OF  ARCHES. 


>87- 


annual  payment  of  5s.  4d.,  both  payable  to  the  Dean 
and  Chapter  of  St.  Paul's — was  put  up  for  sale  by 
auction,  in  one  lot,  on  November  28,  1862.  The 
place  has  now  been  demolished,  and  the  materials 
have  been  sold,  the  site  being  required  in  forming 
the  new  thoroughfare  from  Earl  Street,  Blackfriars, 
to  the  Mansion  House;  the  roadway  passes  directly 
through  the  College  garden, 

Chaucer,  in  his  "Canterbury  Tales,"  gives  an 
unfavourable  picture  of  the  old  sompnour  (or  appa- 
ritor to  the  Ecclesiastical  Court) : — 

"  A  sompnour  was  ther  with  us  in  that  place, 
Thad  hadde  a  fire-red  cherubimes  face  ; 
For  sausefleme  he  was,  with  eyen  narwe. 
As  hote  he  was,  and  hkerous  as  a  spanve, 
With  scalled  browc;  blake,  and  pilled  berd  ; 
Of  his  visage  children  were  sore  aferd. 
Ther  n'as  quiksilver,  litarge,  ne  brimston, 
Boras,  ceruse,  ne  oile  of  Tartre  non, 
Ne  oinement  that  wolda  dense  or  bite, 
That  him  might  helpen  of  his  whelkes  white, 
Ne  of  the  nobbes  sitting  on  his  chekes. 
Wei  loved  he  garlike,  onions,  and  lekes. 
And  for  to  drinke  strong  win  as  rede  as  blood. 
Than  wold  he  speke,  and  crie  as  he  were  wood. 
And  when  that  he  wel  dronken  had  the  win. 
Than  wold  he  speken  no  word  but  Latin. 
A  fewe  termes  coude  he,  two  or  three. 
That  he  had  lerned  out  of  some  decree  ; 
No  wonder  is,  he  herd  it  all  the  day. 
And  eke  ye  knowen  wel,  how  that  a  jay 
Can  clepen  watte,  as  well  as  can  the  pope. 
Eut  who  so  wolde  in  other  thing  him  grope, 
Than  hadde  he  spent  all  his  philosophic. 
Ay,  Questio  quid  juris  wold  he  crie." 

In  1585  there  were  but  sixteen  or  seventeen 
doctors  ;  in  1694  that  swarm  had  increased  to  forty- 
four.  In  1595  there  were  but  five  proctors  ;  in  1694 
there  were  forty-three.  Yet  even  in  Henry  VHI.'s 
time  the  proctors  were  complained  of,  for  being  so 
numerous  and  clamorous  that  neither  judges  nor 
advocates  could  be  heard.  Cranmer,  to  remedy 
this  evil,  attempted  to  gradually  reduce  the  number 
to  ten,  which  was  petitioned  against  as  insufficient 
and  tending  to  "  delays  and  prolix  suits." 

"  Doctors'  Commons,"  says  Defoe,  "  was  a  name 
very  well  known  in  Holland,  Denmark,  and  Sweden, 
because  all  ships  that  were  taken  during  the  last 
wars,  belonging  to  those  nations,  on  suspicion  of 
trading  with  France,  were  brought  to  trial  here ; 
which  occasioned  that  sarcastic  saying  abroad 
that  we  have  often  heard  in  conversation,  that 
England  was  a  fine  country,  but  a  man  called 
Doctors'  Commons  was  a  devil,  for  there  was  no 
getting  out  of  his  clutches,  let  one's  cause  be 
never  so  good,  without  paying  a  great  deal  of 
money." 

A  writer  in  Knight's  *' London"  (1843)  gives  a 


pleasant  sketch  of  the  Court  of  Arches  in  that  year. 
The  Common  Hall,   where  the  Court  of  Arches, 
the  Prerogative  Court,  the  Consistory  Court,  and 
the  Admiralty  Court  all  held  their  sittings,  was  a 
comfortable  place,  with  dark  polished  wainscoting 
reaching  high  up  the  walls,  while  above  hung  the 
richly  emblazoned  arms  of  learned  doctors   dead 
and  gone ;  the  fire  burned  cheerily  in  the  central 
stove.      The  dresses  of  the  unengaged  advocates 
in   scarlet   and   ermine,    and    of  the   proctors   in 
ermine  and  black,  were  picturesque.  The  opposing 
advocates  sat  in  high  galleries,  iind  the  absence  of 
prisoner's    dock    and   jury-box — nay,   even   of   a 
pubUc — impressed  [the   stranger  with  a   sense  of 
agreeable  novelty. 

Apropos  of  the  Court  of  Arches  once  held  in  Bow 
Church.  "  The  Commissary  Court  of  Surrey," 
says  Mr.  Jeaffreson,  in  his  "  Book  about  the 
Clergy,"  "  still  holds  sittings  in  the  Church  of 
St.  Saviour's,  Southwark ;  and  any  of  my  IvOndon 
readers,  who  are  at  the  small  pains  to  visit  that 
noble  church  during  a  sitting  of  the  Commissary's 
Court,  may  ascertain  for  himself  that,  notwith- 
standing our  reverence  for  consecrated  places,  we 
can  still  use  them  as  chambers  of  justice.  The 
court,  of  course,  is  a  spiritual  court,  but  the  great, 
perhaps  the  greater,  part  of  the  business  transacted 
at  its  sittings  is  of  an  essentially  secular  kind." 

The  nature  of  the  business  in  the  Court  of 
Arches  may  be  best  shown  by  the  brief  summary 
given  in  the  report  for  three  years — 1827,  1828,  and 
1829.  There  were  21  matrimonial  cases;  i  of 
defamation  ;  4  of  brawling  ;  5  church-smiting ;  i 
church-rate ;  i  legacy ;  i  tithes ;  4  correction. 
Of  these  1 7  were  appeals  from  the  courts,  and  2 1 
original  suits. 

The  cases  in  the  Court  of  Arches  were  often 
very  trivial.  "  There  was  a  case,"  says  Dr.  Nicholls, 
"in  which  the  cause  had  originally  commenced 
in  the  Archdeacon's  Court  at  Totnes,  and  thence 
there  had  been  an  appeal  to  the  Court  at  Exeter, 
thence  to  the  Arches,  and  thence  to  the  Delegates ; 
after  all,  the  issue  having  been  simply,  which  of 
two  persons  had  the  right  of  hanging  his  hat  on  a 
particular  peg."  The  other  is  of  a  sadder  cast, 
and  calculated  to  arouse  a  just  indignation.  Our 
authority  is  Mr.  T.  W.  Sweet  (Report  on  Eccles. 
Courts),  who  states :  "  In  one  instance,  many 
years  since,  a  suit  was  instituted  which  I  thought 
produced  a  great  deal  of  inconvenience  and  distress. 
It  was  the  case  of  a  person  of  the  name  of  Russell, 
whose  wife  was  supposed  to  have  had  her  character 
impugned  at  Yarmouth  by  a  Mr.  Bentham.  He 
had  no  remedy  at  law  for  the  attack  upon  the 
lady's  character,  and  a  suit  for  defamation  was  insti- 


;88 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Doctors'  Commons. 


tuted  in  the  Commons.  It  was  supposed  the  suit 
would  be  attended  with  very  Uttle  expense,  but  I 
believe  in  the  end  it  greatly  contributed  to  ruin 
the  party  who  instituted  it ;  I  think  he  said  his 
proctor's  bill  would  be  ;!{^7oo.  It  went  through 
several  courts,  and  ultimately,  I  believe  (according 
to  the  decision  or  agreement),  each  party  paid  his 


lying  entirely  within  the  diocese  where  he  died, 
probate  or  proof  of  the  will  is  made,  or  adminis- 
tration taken  out,  before  the  bishop  or  ordinary 
of  that  diocese;  but  if  there  were  goods  and 
chattels  only  to  the  amount  of  ;£$  (except  in  the 
diocese  of  London,  where  the  amount  is  ;2^io) 
— in  legal  parlance,  dona  noiabilia — within  any  other 


THE  PREROGATIVE  OFFICE,    DOCTORS'    COMMONS. 


own  costs."  It  appears  from  the  evidence  subse- 
quently given  by  the  proctor,  that  he  very  humanely 
declined  pressing  him  for  payment,  and  never 
was  paid ;  and  yet  the  case,  through  the  continued 
anxiety  and  loss  of  time  incurred  for  six  or  seven 
years  (for  the  suit  lasted  that  time),  mainly  con- 
tributed, it  appears,  to  the  party's  ruin. 

As  the  la^v  once  stood,  says  a  writer  in  Knight's 
"  I.ondon,"  if  a  person  died  possessed  of  property 


diocese,  and  which  is  generally  the  case,  then  the 
jurisdiction  lies  in  the  Prerogative  Court  of  the 
Archbishop  of  the  province — that  is,  either  at  York 
or  at  Doctors'  Commons ;  the  latter,  we  need  hardly 
say,  being  the  Court  of  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury. The  two  Prerogative  Courts  therefore  engross 
the  great  proportion  of  the  business  of  this  kind 
through  the'country,  for  although  the  Ecclesiastical 
Courts  have  no  power  over  the  bequests  of  or  sue- 


Doctors'  Commons.] 


WILLS    AND    MARRIAGE    LICENCES. 


289 


cession  to  unmixed  real  property,  if  such  were  left, 
cases  of  that  nature  seldom  or  never  occur.  And, 
as  between  the  two  provinces,  not  only  is  thaJt  of 
Canterbury  much  more  important  and  extensive, 
but  since  the  introduction  of  the  funding  system,  and 
the  extensive  diffusion  of  such  property,  nearly  all 
wills  of  importance  belonging  even  to  the  Province 
of  York  are  also  proved  in  Doctors'  Commons,  on 
account  of  the  rule   of  the  Bank  of  England  to 


30,000.      In   the   same  year  extracts  were  taken 
from  wills  in  6,414  cases. 

On  the  south  side  is  the  entry  to  the  Pre- 
rogative Court,  and  at  No.  10  the  Faculty  Office. 
They  have  no  marriage  licences  at  the  Faculty 
Office  of  an  earlier  date  than  October,  1632,  and 
up  to  1695  they  are  only  imperfectly  preserved. 
There  is  a  MS.  index  to  the  licences  prior  to  1695, 
for  which  the  charge  for  a  search  is  4s.  6d.     Since. 


ST.  Paul's  and  neighbourhood.     {From  Aggas'  Plan,  1563.) 


acknowledge  no  probate  of  wills  but  from  thence. 
To  this  cause,  amongst  others,  may  be  attributed 
the  striking  fact  that  tlie  business  of  this  court 
between  the  three  years  ending  with  1789,  and  the 
three  years  ending  with  1829,  had  been  doubled. 
Of  the  vast  number  of  persons  affected,  or  at 
least  interested  in  this  business,  we  see  not  only 
from  the  crowded  rooms,  but  also  from  the  state- 
ment given  in  the  report  of  the  select  committee 
on  the  Admiralty  and  other  Courts  of  Doctors' 
Commons  in  1833,  where  it  appears  that  in  one 
year  (1829)  the  number  of  searches  amounted  to 
25 


1695  the  licences  have  been  regularly  kept,  and 
the  fee  for  searching  is  a  shilling. 

The  great  Admiralty  judge  of  the  early  part  of 
this  century  was  Dr.  Johnson's  friend,  Lord  Stowell, 
the  brother  of  Lord  Eldon. 

According  to  Sir  Herbert  Jenner  Fust,  Lord 
Stowell's  decisions  during  the  war  have  since  formed 
a  code  of  international  law,  almost  universally  recog- 
nised. In  one  year  alone  (1806)  he  pronounced 
2,206  decrees.  Lord  Stowell  (then  Dr.  Scott)  was 
made  Advocate-General  in  Doctors'  Commons  in 
1788,  and  Vicar-General  or  official  principal  for  the 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


^Doctors'  Commons 


Arclibishop  of  Canterbury.  Soon  after  he  became 
Master  of  the  Faculties,  and  in  1798  was  nominated 
Judge  of  the  High  Court  of  Admiralty,  the  highest 
dignity  of  the  Doctors'  Commons  Courts.  During 
the  great  French  war,  it  is  said  Dr.  Scott  some- 
times received  as  much  as  ;^i,ooo  a  case  for  fees 
and  perquisites  in  a  prize  cause.  He  left  at  his 
death  personal  property  exceeding  ^200,000.  He 
used  to  say  that  he  admired  above  all  other  invest- 
ments "  the  sweet  simplicity  of  the  Three  per 
Cents.,"  and  when  purchasing  estate  after  estate, 
observed  "  he  liked  plenty  of  elbow-room." 

"  It  was,"  says  Warton,  "  by  visiting  Sir  Robert 
Chambers,  when  a  fellow  of  University,  that 
Johnson  became  acquainted  with  Lord  Stowell; 
and  when  Chambers  went  to  India,  Lord  Stowell, 
as  he  expressed  it  to  me,  seemed  to  succeed  to  his 
place  in  Johnson's  friendship." 

"  Sir  William  Scott  (Lord  Stowell),"  says  Boswell, 
"  told  me  that  when  he  complained  of  a  headache 
in  the  post-chaise,  as  they  were  travelling  together 
to  Scotland,  Johnson  treated  him  in  a  rough  manner 
— '  At  your  age,  sir,  I  had  no  headache.' 

"Mr.  Scott's  amiable  manners  and  attachment 
to  our  Socrates,"  says  Boswell  in  PMinburgh,  *•  at 
once  united  me  to  him.  He  told  me  that  before 
1  came  in  the  doctor  had  unluckily  had  a  bad 
specimen  of  Scottish  cleanliness.  He  then  drank 
no  fermented  liquor.  He  asked  to  have  his 
lemonade  made  sweeter;  upon  which  the  waiter, 
with  his  greasy  fingers,  lifted  a  lump,  of  sugar  and 
put  it  into  it.  The  doctor,  in  indignation,  threw 
it  out.  Scott  said  he  was  afraid  he  would  have 
knocked  the  waiter  down." 

Again  Boswell  says  : — "  We  dined  together  with 
Mr.  Scott,  now  Sir  AVilliam  Scott,  his  Majesty's 
Advocate-General,  at  his  chambers  in  the  Temple 
— nobody  else  there.  The  company  being  so 
small,  Johnson  was  not  in  such  high  spirits  as 
he  liad  been  the  preceding  day,  and  for  a  con- 
siderable time  little  was  said.  At  last  he  burst 
forth — '  Subordination  is  sadly  broken  down  in 
this  age.  No  man,  now,  has  the  same  authority 
which  his  father  had — except  a  gaoler.  No  master 
has  it  over  his  servants ;  it  is  diminished  in  our 
colleges  ;  nay,  in  our  grammar  schools.'  " 

"  Sir  William  Scott  informs  me  that  on  the  death 
of  the  late  Lord  Lichfield,  who  was  Chancellor  of 
the  University  of  Oxford,  he  said  to  Johnson,  '  What 
a  pity  it  is,  sir,  that  you  did  not  follow  the  pro- 
fession of  the  law  !  You  might  have  been  Lord 
Chancellor  of  Great  Britain,  and  attained  to  the 
dignity  of  the  peerage ;  and  now  that  the  title  of 
Lichfield,  your  native  city,  is  extinct,  you  miglit 
have  had  it.'     Johnson  upon  this  seemed  much 


agitated,  and  in  an  angry  tone  exclaimed,  'Why 
will  you  vex  me  by  suggesting  this  when  it  is  too 
late  ?'' " 

The  strange  marriage  of  Lord  Stowell  and  the 
Marchioness  of  Sligo  has  been  excellently  described 
I  by  Mr.  Jeaffreson  in  his  "  Book  of  Lawyers." 

"On  April   10,    1S13,"  says  our  author,    "the 
decorous  Sir  William  Scott,  and  Louisa  Catherine, 
widow  of  John,  Marquis  of  Sligo,  and  daughter  of 
Admiral  Lord  Howe,  were  united  in  the  bonds  of 
holy  wedlock,  to   the  infinite   amusement  of  the 
world  of  fashion,  and  to  the  speedy  humiliation  of 
the  bridegroom.     So  incensed  was  Lord  Eldon  at 
his  brother's  folly  that  he  refused  to  appear  at  the 
wedding  ;  and  certainly  the  chancellor's  displeasure 
was  not  without  reason,  for  the  notorious  absurdity 
of  the  aft'air  brought  ridicule  on  the  whole  of  the 
Scott  family  connection.     The  happy  couple  met 
for  the  first  time  in  the  Old  Bailey,  when  Sir  William 
Scott  and  Lord  EUenborough  presided  at  the  trial 
of  the  marchioness's  son,  the   young  Marquis  of 
Sligo,  who  had  incurred  the  anger  of  the  law  by 
luring  into  his  yacht,  in  Mediterranean  waters,  two 
of  the  king's  seamen.    Throughout  the  hearing  of 
that  cause  ccVebre,  the  Marchioness  sat  in  the  fetid 
court   of  the    Old    Bailey,   in    the  hope   that   her 
presence  might  rouse  amongst  the  jury  or  in  the 
bench  feelings  favourable  to  her  son.     This  hope 
was  disappointed.     The  verdict  having  been  gi\en 
against  the  young  peer,  he  was  ordered  to  pay  a 
fine  of  ;^5,ooo,  and  undergo  four  months'  incar- 
ceration in   Newgate,  and — worse   than  fine  and 
imprisonment  —  was   compelled   to    listen    to   .a 
parental  address,  from  Sir  William  Scott,  on  the 
duties  and  responsibilities  of  men  of  high  station. 
Either  under  the  infiuence  of  sincere  admiration 
for  the  judge,  or  impelled  by  desire  of  vengeance 
on  the  man  who  had  presumed  to  lecture  her  son 
in  a  court  of  justice,  the  marchioness  wrote  a  few 
hasty  words  of  thanks  to  Sir  William  Scott,  for  his 
salutary  exhortation  to  her  boy.     She  even  went  so 
far   as  to  say  that  she  wished  the  erring  marquis 
could  always  have  so  wise  a  counsellor  at  his  side. 
This  communication  was  made  upon  a  slip  of  papei-, 
which  the  writer  sent  to  tjie  judge  by  an  usher  of 
the  court.     Sir  William  read  the  note  as  he  sat  011 
the  bench,    and   having  looked,  towards   the  fail- 
scribe,  he  received  from  her  a  glance  and  a  smile 
that  were  fruitful  of  much  misery  to  him.     Within 
four  months  the  courteous  Sir  William  Scott  was 
tied  fast  to  a  beautiful,  shrill,  voluble  termagant,  who 
exercised  marvellous  ingenuity  in  rendering  him 
wretched  and  contemptible.     Reared  in  a  stately 
school  of  old-world  politeness,  the  unhappy  man 
was  a  model  of  decorum  and  urbanity.     He  took 


I 


Doctors'  Commons.] 


GOOD  STORIES  OF  A  GOOD  JUDGE. 


291 


reasonable  pride  in  tlie  perfection  of  his  tone  and 
manner,  and  the  marchioness — whose  maUce  did 
not  lack  cleverness — was  never  more  happy  than 
when  slae  was  gravely  expostulating  with  him,  in 
the  presence  of  numerous  auditors,  on  his  lament- 
able want  of  style  and  gentlemanlike  bearing.  It 
is  said  that,  like  Coke  and  Holt  under  similar 
circumstances,  Sir  William  preferred  the  quietude 
of  his  chambers  to  the  society  of  an  unruly  wife, 
and  that  in  the  cellar  of  his  inn  he  sought  com- 
pensation for  the  indignities  and  sufferings  which 
he  endured  at  home." 

"  Sir  William  Scott,"  says  Mr.  Surtees,  then  "re- 
moved from  Doctors'  Commons  to  his  wife's  house 
in  Grafton  Street,  and,  ever  economical  in  his 
domestic  expenses,  brought  with  him  his  own  door- 
plate,  and  placed  it  under  the  pre-existing  plate  of 
Lady  Sligo,  instead  of  getting  a  new  door-plate  for 
them  both.  Immediately  after  the  marriage,  Mr. 
Jekyll,  so  well  known  in  the  earliest  i)art  of  this 
century  for  his  puns  and  humour,  happening  to 
obser\e  the  position  of  these  plates,  condoled  with 
Sir  William  on  having  to  'knock  under.'  There 
was  too  much  truth  in  the  joke  for  it  to  be  inwardly 
relished,  and  Sir  William  ordered  the  plates  to  be 
transposed.  A  few  weeks  later  Jekyll  accomi)anied 
his  friend  Scott  as  flir  as  the  door,  when  the  latter 
observed,  'You  see  I  don't  knock  under  now.' 
'  Not  now,'  was  the  answer  received  by  the  anti- 
quated bridegroom  ;  '  mnu  you  knock  up.' " 

Tliere  is  a  good  story  current  of  Lord  Stowell  in 
Newcastle,  that,  when  advanced  in  age  and  rank, 
he  visited  the  school  of  his  boyhood.  An  old 
woman,  whose  business  was  to  clean  out  and  keep 
the  key  of  the  school-room,  conducted  him.  She 
knew  the  name  and  station  of  the  personage  whom 
she  accompanied.  She  naturally  expected  some 
recompense — half-a-crown  perhaps — perhaps,  since 
he  was  so  great  a  man,  five  shillings.  But  he 
lingered  over  the  books,  and  asked  a  thousand 
questions  about  the  fate  of  his  old  school-fellows ; 
and  as  he  talked  her  expectation  rose — half-a-guinea 
— a  guinea — nay,  possibly  (since  she  had  been  so 
long  connected  with  the  school  in  which  the  great 
man  took  so  deep  an  interest)  some  little  annuity  ! 
He  wished  her  good-bye  kindly,  called  her  a  good 
woman,  and  slipped  a  piece  of  money  into  her 
hand — it  was  a  sixpence  ! 

"  Lord  Stowell,"  says  Mr.  Surtees,  "  was  a  great 
eater.  As  Lord  Eldon  had  for  his  favourite  dish 
\\\Qx  and  bacon,  so  his  brother  had  a  favourite 
quite  as  homely,  with  which  his  intimate  friends, 
when  he  dined  with  them,  would  treat  him.  It  was 
a  rich  pie,  compounded  of  beef  steaks  and  layers 
gf  oysters,     Y§t  the  feats  which  Lord  Stowell  per- 


formed with  the  knife  and  fork  were  eclipsed  by 
those  which  he  would  afterwards  display  with  the 
botde,  and  two  bottles  of  port  formed  with  him  no 
uncommon  potation.  By  wine,  however,  he  was 
never,  in  advanced  life  at  any  rate,  seen  to  be 
affected.  His  mode  of  living  suited  and  improved 
his  constitution,  and  his  strength  long  increased 
with  his  years. 

At  the  western  end  of  Holborn  there  was  a  room 
generally  let  for  exhibitions.  At  the  entrance  Lord 
Stowell  presented  himself,  eager  to  see  the  "  green 
monster  serpent,"  which  had  lately  issued  cards  of 
invitation  to  the  public.  As  he  was  pulling  out  his 
purse  to  pay  for  his  admission,  a  sharp  but  honest 
north-country  lad,  whose  business  it  was  to  take  the 
money,  recognised  him  as  an  old  customer,  and, 
knowing  his  name,  thus  addressed  him  :  "  We  can't 
take  your  shilling,  my  lord  ;  'tis  t'  old  serpent, 
which  you  have  seen  six  times  before,  in  other 
colours ;  but  ye  can  go  in  and  see  her."  He 
entered,  saved  his  money,  and  enjoyed  his  seventh 
visit  to  the  "  real  original  old  sea-sarpint." 

Of  Lord  Stowell  it  has  been  said  by  Lord 
Brougham  that  "  his  vast  superiority  was  apparent 
when,  as  from  an  eminence,  he  was  called  to  survey 
the  whole  field  of  dispute,  and  to  unravel  the 
variegated  facts,  disentangle  the  intricate  mazes, 
and  array  the  conflicting  reasons,  which  were  calcu- 
lated to  distract  or  suspend  men's  judgment.' 
And  Brougham  adds  that  "  if  ever  the  praise  of 
being  luminous  could  be  bestowed  upon  human 
compositions,  it  was  upon  his." 

It  would  be  impossible  with  the  space  at  our 
command  to  give  anything  like  a  tithe  of  the  good 
stories  of  this  celebrated  judge.  We  must  pass  on 
to  other  famous  men  who  have  sat  on  the  judicial 
bench  in  Doctors'  Commons. 

Of  Sir  Herbert  Jenner  Fust,  one  of  the  great 
ecclesiastical  judges  of  modern  times,  Mr.  Jeafifreson 
tells  a  good  story  : — 

"  In  old  Sir  Herbert's  later  days  it  was  no  mere 
pleasantry,  or  bold  figure  of  speech,  to  say  that 
the  court  had  risen,  for  he  used  to  be  lifted  from 
his  chair  and  carried  bodily  from  the  chamber  of 
justice  by  two  brawny  footmen.  Of  course,  as 
soon  as  the  judge  was  about  to  be  elevated  by  his 
bearers,  the  bar  rose;  and,  also  as  a  matter  of 
course,  the  bar  continued  to  stand  until  the  strong 
porters  had  conveyed  their  weighty  and  venerable 
burden  along  the  platform  behind  one  of  the  rows 
of  advocates  and  out  of  sight.  As  the  trio  worked 
their  laborious  way  along  the  platform,  there  seemed 
to  be  some  danger  that  they  might  blunder  and  fall 
through  one  of  the  windows  into  the  space  behind 
the  court ;   and  at  a  time  when  Sir  Herbert  and 


29C 

Dr.    were   at   open   variance,    that   waspish 

advocate  had,  on  one  occasion,  the  bad  taste  to 
keep  his  seat  at  the  rising  of  the  court,  and  with 
characteristic  malevolence  of  expression  say  to  the 
footmen,  '  Mind,  my  men,  and  take  care  of  that 
judge  of  yours ;  or,  by  Jove,  you'll  pitch  him  out 
of  the  window.'  It  is  needless  to  say  that  this 
brutal  speech  did  i)ot  raise  the  speaker  in  the 
opinion  of  the  hearers." 

Dr.  I^ushington,  recently  deceased,  aged  ninety- 
one,  is  another  ecclesiastical  judge  deserving  notice. 
He  entered   Parliament  in    1807,  and  retired  in 
1 84 1.     He   began   his   political  career  when   the 
Portland  Administration  (Perceval,  Castlereagh,  and 
Canning)  ruled,  and  was  always  a  steadfast  reformer 
through  good  and  evil  report.     He  was  one  of  the 
counsel  for  Queen  Caroline,  and  aided  Brougham 
and  Denman  in  the  jiopular  triumph.     He  worked 
hard  against  slavery  and  for  Parliamentary  reform, 
and  had  not  only  heard  many  of  Sir  Robert  Peel 
and   Lord  John   Russell's   earliest   speeches,  but 
also   those   of  Mr.   Gladstone   and    ;Mr.  Disraeli. 
"Though  it  seemed,"  says  the  Daily  Neics,  "a little 
incongruous  that  questions  of  faith  and  ritual  in  the 
Church,  and  those  of  seizures  or  accidents  at  sea, 
sliould  be  adjudicated  on  by  the  same  person,  it 
was  always  felt  that  his  decisions  were  based  on 
ample  knowledge  of  the  law  and  diligent  attention 
to  the  special  circumstances  of  the  individual  case. 
As  Dean  of  Arches  he  was  called  to  pronounce 
judgment   in   some   of    the    most   exciting   eccle- 
siastical suits  of  modern  times.      ^Vhen  the  first  \ 
prosecutions  were  directed  against  the  Ritualistic  I 
innovators,  as  they  were  then  called,  of  St.  Barnabas, 
both  sides  congratulated  themselves  that  the  judg-  > 
ment  would  be  given  by  so  venerable  and  experi-  j 
enced  a  judge ;  and  perhaps  the  dissatisfaction  of  j 
both  sides  with  the  judgment  proved  its  justice. 
In  the  prosecution  of  the  Rev,  H.  B.  Wilson  and  | 
Dr.  Rowland  Williams,  Dr.  Lushington  again  pro- 1 
nounced  a  judgment  which,  contrary  to   popular 
expectation,  was  reversed  on  appeal  by  the  Judicial 
Committee  of  the  Privy  Council." 

But  how  can  we  leave  Doctors'  Commons 
without  remembering — as  we  see  the  touters  for 
licences,  who  look  like  half  pie-men,  half  watermen — 
Sam  Weller's  inimitable  description  of  the  trap 
into  which  his  father  fell  ? 

"  Paul's  Church-yard,  sir,"  says  Sam  to  Jingle ; 
*'  a  low  archway  on  the  carriage-side ;  bookseller's 
at  one  corner,  hot-el  on  the  other,  and  two  porters 
in  the  middle  as  touts  for  licences." 

"  Touts  for  licences  ! "  said  the  gentleman. 

"  Touts  for  licences,"  replied  Sam.  "  Two  coves 
in  white  aprons,  touches  their  hats  when  you  walk 


OLD  AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Doctors'  Commons, 


in — <  Licence,  sir,  licence  ?'  Queer  sort  them,  and 
:  their  mas'rs,  too,  sir — Old  Bailey  proctors — and  no 
!  mistake." 

"  What  do  they  do  ?"  inquired  the  gentleman, 
"  Do :   you,  sir !     That    ain't    the    worst    on't, 
neither.      They   puts   things    into   old   gen'Im'n's 
heads  as  they  never  dreamed  of.  .  My  father,  sir, 
was  a  coachman,  a  widower  he  wos,  and  fat  enougli 
for  anything — uncommon   fat,  to   be   sure.      His 
missus  dies,  and  leaves  him  four  hundred  pound. 
Down  he  goes  to  the  Commons  to  see  the  lawyer, 
and  draw  the  blunt — very  smart — top-boots  on— 
nosegay  in  his  button-hole — broad-brimmed  tile — 
green  shawl — quite  the  gen'lm'n.     Goes  through 
the  archway,  thinking  how  lie  should  inwest  the 
money;  up  comes  the  touter,  touches  his  hat — 
'Licence,   sir,  licence?'     'What's  that?' says  my 
father,     '  Licence,  sir,'  says  he.     '  What  licence,' 
says    my   father.       '  Marriage   licence,'    says    the 
touter.      '  Dash   my  weskit,'   says   my  father,    '  I 
never  thought  o'  that.'     '  I  thinks  you  want  one, 
sir,'  says  ihe  touter.     My  father  pulls  up  and  thinks 
a  bit.     *  No,'  says  he,  'damme,  I'm  too  old,  b'sides 
I'm  a  many  sizes  too  large,'  says  he.     '  Not  a  bit 
on  it,  sir,'  says  the  touter.     'Think  not?'  says  my 
father.     '  I'm  sure  not,'  says  he ;    '  we  married  a 
gen'lm'n  twice  your  size  last  Monday.'     '  Did  you, 
though  ?'  said  my  father.     '  To  be  sure  we  did,'  says 
the  touter,  '  you're  a  babby  to  him — this  way,  sir — 
this  way !'     And  sure  enough  my  father  walks  arter 
him,  like  a  tame  monkey  behind  a  horgan,  into  a 
little   back   office,  vere   a  feller  sat   among  dirty 
papers,  and  tin  boxes,  making  believe  he  was  busy. 
'  Pray  take  a  seat,  vile  I  makes  out  the  affidavit, 
sir,'  says   the   lawyer.      *  Thankee,   sir,'  says   my 
father,  and  down  he  sat,  and  stared  with  all  his 
eyes,  and  his  mouth  wide  open,  at  the  names  on 
the   boxes.     'What's  your   name,    sir?'   says   the 
lawyer.     -  Tony  Weller,'  says  my  father.     '  Parish  ? ' 
says  the  lawyer.     'Belle  Savage,'  says  my  father; 
for   he    stopped  there  wen  he  drove  up,  and  he 
know'd  nothing  about  parishes,  /le  didn't.     '  And 
what's  the  lady's  name?'   says  the  lawyer.      My 
father  was  struck  all  of  a  heap.     '  Blessed  if  I  know,' 
says  he.     '  Not  know  !'  says  the  lawyer.     '  No  more 
nor  you  do,'  says  my  father ;  '  can't  I  put  that  in 
arterwards  ? '       '  Impossible  ! '     says    the    lawyer. 
'  Wery  well,'  says  my  father,  after  he'd  thought  a 
moment,  '  put  down  Mrs,  Clarke,'     '  What  Clarke  ?' 
says    the    lawyer,    dipping    his    pen    in   the   ink. 
'  Susan  Clarke,  Markis  o'  Granby,  Dorking,'  says 
my  father ;  '  she'll  have  me  if  I  ask,  I  dessay — I 
never  said  nothing  to  her  ;  but  she'll  have  me,  I 
know.'     The  licence  was  made  out,  and  she  did 
have  him,  and  what's  more  she's  got  him  nov,- ;  and 


Doctors'  Commons.1 


DOCTORS'  COMMONS  IN  DECaV. 


m 


I  never  had  any  of  the  four  hundred  pound,  worse 
luck.  Beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  Sam,  when  he 
liad  concluded,  "but  when  I  gets  on  this  here 
grievance,  I  runs  on  like  a  new  barrow  with  the 
wheel  greased.' ' 

Doctors*  Commons  is  now  a  ruin.  The  spider 
builds  where  the  proctor  once  wove  his  sticky  web. 
The  college,  rebuilt  after  the  Great  Fire,  is  described 
by  Elmes  as  an  old  brick  building  in  the  Carolean 
style,  the  interior  consisting  of  two  quadrangles  once 
occupied  by  the  doctors,  a  hall  for  the  hearing  of 
causes,  a  spacious  library,  a  refectory,  and  other 
useful  apartments.  In  1867,  when  Doctors'  Com- 
mons was  deserted  by  the  proctors,  a  clever  London 
essayist  sketched  the  ruins  very  graphically,  at  the 
time  when  the  Metropolitan  Fire  Brigade  occupied 
the  lawyers'  deserted  town  : — 

"  A  deserted  justice-hall,  with  dirty  mouldering 
walls,  broken  doors  and  windows,  shattered  floor, 
and  crumbling  ceiling.  The  dust  and  fog  of  long- 
forgotten  causes  lowering  everywhere,  making  the 
small  leaden-framed  panes  of  glass  opaque,  the 
dark  wainscot  grey,  coating  the  dark  rafters  with 
a  heavy  dingy  fur,  and  lading  the  atmosphere  with 
a  close  unwholesome  smell.  Time  and  neglect 
have  made  the  once-white  ceiling  like  a  huge  map, 
in  which  black  and  swollen  rivers  and  tangled 
mountain  ranges  are  struggling  for  pre-eminence. 
Melancholy,  decay,  and  desolation  are  on  all  sides. 
The  holy  of  holies,  where  the  profane  vlilgar  could 
not  tread,  but  which  was  sacred  to  the  venerable 
gowned  figures  who  cozily  took  it  in  turns  to 
dispense  justice  and  to  plead,  is  now  open  to  any 
passer-by.  Where  tlie  public  were  permitted  to 
listen  is"  bare  and  shabby  as  a  well-plucked  client. 
The  inner  door  of  long-discoloured  baize  flaps 
listlessly  on  its  hinges,  and  the  true  law-court  little 
entrance-box  it  half  shuts  in  is  a  mere  nest  for 
spiders.  A  large  red  shaft,  with  the  word  '  broken' 
rudely  scrawled  on  it  in  chalk,  stands  where  the 
judgment-seat  was  formerly;  long  rows  of  ugly 
jjiping,  like  so  many  shiny  dirty  serpents,  occupy 
the  seats  of  honour  round  it ;  staring  red  vehicles, 
with  odd  brass  fittings  :  buckets,  helmets,  axes,  and 
old  uniforms  fill  up  the  remainder  of  the  space. 
A  very  few  years  ago  this  was  the  snuggest  little 
law-nest  in  the  world ;  now  it  is  a  hospital  and 
store-room  for  the  Metropolitan  Fire  Brigade.  For 
we  are  in  Doctors'  Commons,  and  lawyers  them- 
selves will  be  startled  to  learn  that  the  old  Arches 
Court,  the  old  Admiralty  Court,  the  old  Prerogative 
Court,  the  old  Consistory  Court,  the  old  harbour 
for  delegates,  chancellors,  vicars-general,  commis- 
saries, prothonotaries,  cursitors,  seal-keepers,  ser- 
jeants-at-mace,  doctors,  deans,  apparitors,  proctors, 


and  what  not,  is  being  applied  to  such  useful  pur- 
poses now.  Let  the  reader  leave  the  bustle  of 
St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  and,  turning  under  the  arch- 
way where  a  noble  army  of  white-aproned  touters 
formerly  stood,  cross  Knightrider  Street  and  enter 
the  Commons.  The  square  itself  is  a  memorial  of 
the  mutability  of  human  affairs.  Its  big  sombre 
houses  are  closed.  The  well-known  names  of  the 
learned  doctors  who  formerly  practised  in  the 
adjacent  courts  are  still  on  the  doors,  but  have,  in 
each  instance,  'x\ll  letters  and  parcels  to  be  ad- 
dressed '  Belgravia,  or  to  one  of  the  western  inns 
of  court,  as  their  accompaniment.  The  one  court 
in  which  ecclesiastical,  testamentary,  and  maritime 
law  was  tried  alternately,  and  which,  as  we  have 
seen,  is  now  ending  its  days  shabbily,  but  usefully^ 
is  through  tha  further  archway  to  the  left.  Here 
the  smack  Henry  and  Betsy  would  bring  its  action 
for  salvage  against  the  schooner  Mary  Jane ;  here 
a  favoured  gentleman  was  occasionally  *  admitted  a 
proctor  exercent  by  virtue  of  a  rescript;'  here,  as 
we  learnt  with  awe,  proceedings  for  divorce  were 
'  carried  on  in  poenam,'  and  '  the  learned  judge, 
without  entering  into  the  facts,  declared  himself 
quite  satisfied  with  the  evidence,  and  pronounced 
for  the  separation;'  and  here  the  Dean  of  Pecu- 
liars settled  his  differences  with  the  eccentrics  who, 
I  presume,  were  under  his  charge,  and  to  whom 
he  owed  his  title." 

Such  are  the  changes  that  take  place  in  our 
Protean  city  !  Already  we  have  seen  a  palace  in 
Blackfriars  turn  into  a  prison,  and  the  old  courts  of 
Fleet  Street,  once  mansions  of  the  rich  and  greoit, 
now  filled  with  struggling  poor.  The  great  syna- 
gogue in  the  Old  Jewry  became  a  tavern ;  the 
palace  of  the  Savoy  a  barracks.  These  changes  it 
is  our  special  province  to  record,  as  to  trace  them 
is  our  peculiar  function. 

The  Prerogative  Will  Office  contains  many  last 
wills  and  testaments  of  great  interest.  There  is 
a  will  written  in  short-hand,  and  one  on  a  bed-post ; 
but  what  are  these  to  that  of  Shakspeare,  three  folio 
sheets,  and  his  signature  to  each  sheet  ?  Why  he  left 
only  his  best  bed  to  his  wife  long  puzzled  the  anti- 
quaries, but  has  since  been  explained.  There  is 
(or  rather  was,  for  it  has  now  gone  to  Paris)  the 
will  of  Napoleon  abusing  "the  oligarch "  Wellington, 
and  leaving  10,000  francs  to  the  French  officer  Can- 
tello,  who  was  accused  of  a  desire  to  assassinate  the 
"  Iron  Duke."  There  are  also  the  wills  of  Vandyke 
the  painter,  who  died  close  by;  Inigo  Jones,  Ben 
Jonson's  rival  in  the  Court  masques  of  James  and 
Charles  ;  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  Dr.  Johnson,  good  old 
Izaak  Walton,  and  indeed  almost  everybody  who 
had  property  in  the  south. 


294 


OLD   AND   NEVV  LONDOf^; 


ftteralds'  College, 


IILRALDS'  COLLEGE,     {/'/v/w  an  old  Print.) 


CHAPTER  XXV. 
HERALDS'      COLLEGE. 

Eaily  Homes  of  the  Heralds— The  Constitution  of  the  Herald's  College— Garter  King  at  Arms— Ciarencieux  and  Norroy— The  Pursuivants- 
Duties  and  Privileges  of  Heralds — Good,  Dad,  and  Jovial  Heralds— A  Notable  Norroy  King  at  Arms— The  Tragic  End  of  'I'wo  Famous 
Heialds — The  College  of  Arms'  Library. 


Turning  from  the  black  dome  of  St.  Pauls,  and 
the  mean  archway  of  Dean's  Court,  into  a  region  of 
gorgeous  blazonments,  we  come  to  that  quiet  and 
grave  house,  like  an  old  nobleman's,  that  stands 
aside  from  the  new  street  from  the  Embankment, 
like  an  aristocrat  shrinking  from  a  crowd.  The 
original  Heralds'  College,,. Cold  Harbour  House, 
founded  by  Richard  H.,  stood  in  Poultney  Lane, 
but  the  heralds  were  turned  out  by  Henry  VH., 
who  gave  their  mansion  to  Bishop  Tunstal,  whom 
he  had  driven  from  Durham  Place.  The  heralds 
then  retired  to  Ronceval  Priory,  at  Charing  Cross 
(afterwards  Northumberland  Place).  Queen  Mary, 
however,  in  1555  gave  Gilbert  Dethick,  Garter 
King  of  Arms,  and  the  other  heralds  and  pur- 
suivants,   their    present   college,    formerly    Derby 


House,  which  had  belonged  to  the  first  Earl  of 
Derby,  who  married  Lady  Margaret,  Countess  of 
Richmond,  mother  to  King  Henry  VH.  The 
grant  specified  that  there  the  heralds  might  dwell 
together,  and  "at  meet  times  congregate,  speak, 
confer,  and  agree  among  themselves,  for  the  good 
government  of  the  faculty." 

The  College  of  Arms,  on  the  east  side  of  St. 
Bennet's  Hill,  was  swept  before  the  Great  Fire  of 
1666;  but  all  the  records  and  books,  except  one  or 
two,  were  preserved.  The  estimate  for  the  rebuilding 
was  only  ;^5,ooo,  but  the  City  being  drained  of 
money,  it  was  attempted  to  raise  the  money  by 
subscription;  only  ;^7oo  was  so  raised,  the  rest 
was  paid  from  ofiice  fees,  Sir  William  Dugdale 
building  the  north-west  corner  at  his  own  cl.arge. 


Heralds'  College.] 


AN    HERALDIC    COURT. 


295 


296 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Heralds'  (iolteg*. 


and  sir  Henry  St.  George,  Clarencieux,  giving;^53o. 
This  handsome  and  dignified  brick  building,  com- 
pleted in  16S3,  is  ornamented  with  Ionic  pilasters, 
that  support  an  angular  pediment,  and  the  "  hollow 
arch  of  the  gateway"  was  formerly  considered  a 
curiosity.  The  central  wainscoted  hall  is  Avhere 
the  Courts  of  Sessions  were  at  one  time  held : 
to  the  left  is  the  library  and  search-room,  round 
the  top  of  which  runs  a  gallery ;  on  either  side 
are  the  apartments  of  the  kings,  heralds,  and 
pursuivants. 

"This  corporation,"  we  are  told,  "consists  of 
thirteen  members — viz.,  three  kings  at  arms,  six 
heralds  at  arms,  and  four  pursuivants  at  arms  ;  they 
are  nominated  by  the  Earl  Marshal  of  England,  as 
ministers  subordinate  to  him  in  the  execution  of 
their  offices,  and  hold  their  places  patent  during  their 
good  behaviour.     They  are  thus  distinguished  : — 


Kings  at  Anns, 

Heralds. 

Pursuivants. 

Garter. 

Somerset. 

Rouge  Dragon 

Clarencieux. 

Riclimond. 

lilue  Mantle. 

Norroy. 

Lancaster, 

Portcullis. 

\Vindsor. 

Rouge  Croix. 

Chester. 

York. 

"  However  ancient  the  offices  of  heralds  may  be, 
we  have  hardly  any  memory  of  their  titles  or  names 
before  Edward  IH.  In  his  reign  military  glory 
and  heraldry  were  in  high  esteem,  and  the  patents 
of  the  King  of  Arms  at  this  day  refer  to  the  reign 
of  King  Edward  III.  The  king  created  the  two 
provincials,  by  the  titles  of  Clarencieux  and  Norroy ; 
he  instituted  Windsor  and  Chester  heralds,  and 
Blue  Mantle  pursuivant,  beside  several  others  by 
foreign  titles.  From  this  time  we  find  the  officers 
of  arms  employed  at  home  and  abroad,  both  in 
military  and  civil  affairs  :  military,  with  our  kings 
and  generals  in  the  army,  carrying  defiances  and 
making  tmces,  or  attending  tilts,  tournaments,  and 
duels ;  as  civil  officers,  in  negotiations,  and  attend- 
ing our  ambassadors  in  foreign  Courts  \  at  home, 
waiting  upon  the  king  at  Court  and  Parliament, 
and  directing  public  ceremonies. 

"  In  the  fifth  year  of  King  Henry  V.  armorial 
bearings  were  put  under  regulations,  and  it  was 
declared  that  no  persons  should  bear  coat  arms  that 
could  not  justify  their  right  thereto  by  prescription 
or  grant ;  and  from  this  time  they  were  communi- 
cated to  persons  as  iftsignia,  gentiiitia,  and  heredi- 
tary marks  of  noblesse.  About  the  same  time,  or 
soon  after,  this  victorious  prince  instituted  the 
office  of  Garter  King  of  Arms ;  and  at  a  Chapter 
of  the  Kings  and  Heralds,  held  at  the  siege  of 
Rouen  in  Normandy,  on  the  5th  of  January,  1420, 
they   formed   themselves    into   a    regular  society, 


1  with  a  common   seal,   receiving  Garter  as   their 
I  chief. 

"The  office  of  Garter  King  at  Arms  was  in- 
I  stituted  for  the  service  of  the  Most  Noble  Order 
j  of  tlie  Garter ;  and,  for  the  dignity  of  that  order, 
!  he  was  made  sovereign  within  the  office  of  arms, 
over  all  the  other  officers,  subject  to  the  Crown  of 
;  England,  by  the  name  of  Garter  King  at  Arms  of 
I  England.  By  the  constitution  of  his  office  he  must 
be  a  native  of  England,  and  a  gentleman  bearing 
arms.  To  him  belongs  the  correction  of  arms, 
and  all  ensigns  of  arms,  usurped  or  borne  unjustly, 
and  the  power  of  granting  arms  to  deserving  per- 
sons, and  supporters  to  the  nobility  and  Knights 
of  the  Bath.  It  is  likewise  his  office  to  go  next 
before  the  sword  in  solemn  processions,  none  inter- 
posing except  the  marshal ;  to  administer  the  oath 
to  all  the  officers  of  arms ;  to  have  a  habit  like 
the  registrar  of  the  order,  baron's  service  in  tlie 
Court,  lodgings  in  Windsor  Castle;  to  bear  his 
white  rod,  with  a  banner  of  the  ensigns  of  the 
order  thereon,  before  the  sovereign  ;  also,  when 
any  lord  shall  enter  the  Parliament  chamber,  to 
assign  him  his  place,  according  to  his  degree ;  to 
carry  the  ensigns  of  the  order  to  foreign  princes, 
and  to  do,  or  procure  to  be  done,  what  the 
sovereign  shall  enjoin  relating  to  the  order,  with 
other  duties  incident  to  his  office  of  principal 
King  of  Arms.  The  other  two  kings  are  called 
Provincial  kings,  who  have  i)articular  provinces 
assigned  them,  which  together  comprise  the  whole 
kingdom  of  England — that  of  Clarencieux  com- 
prehending all  from  the  river  Trent  southwards; 
that  of  Norroy,  or  North  Roy,  all  from  the  river 
Trent  northward.  These  Kings  at  Arms  are  tlis- 
tinguished  from  each  other  by  their  respective 
badges,  which  they  may  wear  at  all  times,  either 
in  a  gold  chain  or  a  ribbon,  Garters  being  blue, 
and  the  Provincials  purple. 

"The  six  heralds  take  place  according  to 
seniority  in  office.  They  are  created  with  the  same 
ceremonies  as  the  kings,  taking  the  oath  of  an 
herald,  and  are  invested  with  a  tabard  of  the 
Royal  arms  embroidered  upon  satin,  not  so  rich 
as  the  kings',  but  better  than  the  pursuivants', 
with  a  silver  collar  of  SS. ;  they  are  esquires  by 
creation. 

"  The  four  pursuivants  are  also  created  by  the 
Duke  of  Norfolk,  the  Earl  Marshal,  when  they  take 
their  oath  of  a  pursuivant,  and  are  invested  with  a 
tabard  of  the  Royal  arms  upon  damask.  It  is  the 
duty  of  the  heralds  and  pursuivants  to  attend  on 
the  public  ceremonials,  one  of  each  class  together 
by  a  monthly  rotation. 

"These  heralds  are  the  kind's  servants  in  ordi- 


Heralds'  Collecie,] 


DUTIES   AND    TRIVILEGES   OF    HERALDS. 


i297 


nary,  and  therefore,  in  the  vacancy  of  the  office  of  J 
Earl  Marslial,  liave  been  sworn  into  their  offices  by 
the  Lord  Chajnberlain.  'I'heir  meetings  are  termed 
Chapters,  which  they  hold  the  first  Thursday  in 
every  month,  or  oftener  if  necessary,  wherein  all 
matters  are  determined  by  a  majority  of  voices, 
each  king  having  two  voices," 

One  of  the  earliest  instances  of  the  holding  an 
heraldic  court  was  that  in  the  time  of  Richard  IL, 
when  the  Scropes  and  Grosvenors  had  a  dispute 
about  the  right  to  bear  certain  arms.  John  of 
Gaunt  and  Chaucer  were  witnesses  on  this  occa- 
sion ;  the  latter,  who  had  served  in  France  during 
the  wars  of  Edward  III.,  and  had  been  taken 
prisoner,  deposing  to  seeing  a  certain  cognizance 
displayed  during  a  certain  period  of  the  campaign. 

The  system  of  heraldic  visitations,  when  the 
pedigrees  of  the  local  gentry  were  tested,  and  the 
arms  they  bore  approved  or  cancelled,  originated 
in  the  reign  of  Henry  VI 1 1.  The  monasteries, 
with  their  tombs  and  tablets  and  brasses,  and  their 
excellent  libraries,  had  been  the  great  repositories 
of  the  provincial  genealogies,  more  especially  of  the 
abbeys'  founders  and  benefactors.  These  records 
were  collected  and  used  by  the  heralds,  who  thus 
as  it  were  preserved  and  carried  on  the  monastic 
genealogical  traditions.  These  visitations  were  of 
great  use  to  noble  families  in  proving  their  pedi- 
grees, and  preventing  disputes  about  ])roperty.  The 
visitations  continued  till  1686  (James  II.),  but  a 
few  returns,  says  Mr.  Noble,  were  made  as  late  as 
1704.  Why  they  ceased  in  the  reign  of  William 
of  Orange  is  not  known ;  perhaps  the  respect  for 
feudal  rank  decreased  as  die  new  dynasty  grew 
more  powerful.  The  result  of  the  cessation  of 
these  heraldic  assizes,  however,  is  that  American 
gentlemen,  whose  Puritan  ancestors  left  England 
during  the  persecutions  of  Charles  II. ,  are  now 
unable  to  trace  their  descent,  and  the  heraldic 
gap  can  never  be  filled  up. 

Three  instances  only  of  the  degradation  of 
knights  are  recorded  in  three  centuries'  records  of 
the  Court  of  Honour,  The  first  was  that  of  Sir 
Andrew  Barclay,  in  1322  ;  of  Sir  Ralph  Grey,  in 
1464;  and  of  Sir  Francis  Michell,  in  162 1,  the 
last  knight  being  convicted  of  heinous  offences  and 
misdemeanours.  On  this  last  occasion  the  Knights' 
Marshals'  men  cut  off  the  offender's  sword,  took 
off  his  spurs  and  flung  them  away,  and  broke  his 
sword  over  his  head,  at  the  same  time  proclaiming 
him  "  an  infamous  arrart  knave." 

The  Earl  Marshal's  office — sometimes  called  the 
Court  of  Honour — took  cognizance  of  words  sup- 
posed to  reflect  upon  the  nobility.  Sir  Richard 
Qrenville  was  fined  heavily  for  having  said   that 


the  Duke  of  Suffolk  was  a  base  lord ;  and  Sir 
George  Markham  in  the  enormous  sum  of  ;^io,ooo, 
for  saying,  when  he  had  horsewhipped  the  hunts- 
man of  Lord  Darcy,  that  he  would  do  the  same  to 
his  master  if  he  tried  to  justify  his  insolence.  In 
1622  the  legality  of  the  court  was  tried  in  the 
Star  Chamber  by  a  contumacious  herald,  who 
claimed  arrears  of  fees,  and  to  King  James's  dc' 
light  the  legality  of  the  court  was  fully  established, 
In  1646  (Charles  I.)  Mr.  Hyde  (afterwards  Lord 
Chancellor  Clarendon)  proposed  doing  away  with 
the  court,  vexatious  causes  multiplying,  and  very 
arbitrary  authority  being  exercised.  He  particu- 
larly cited  a  case  of  great  oppression,  in  which  a 
rich  citizen  had  been  ruined  in  his  estate  and  im- 
prisoned, for  merely  calling  an  heraldic  swan  a 
goose.  After  the  Restoration,  says  Mr.  Planche, 
in  Knight's  "  London,"  the  Duke  of  Norfolk, 
hereditary  Earl  Marshal,  hoping  to  re-establish 
the  court,  employed  Dr.  Plott,  the  learned  but 
credulous  historian  of  Staffordshire,  to  collect  the 
materials  for  a  history  of  the  court,  which,  how- 
ever, was  never  completed.  The  court,  whicli  had 
outlived  its  age,  fell  into  desuetude,  and  the  last 
cause  heard  concerning  the  right  of  bearing  arms 
(Blount  versus  Blunt)  was  tried  in  the  year  1720 
(George  I.).  In  the  old  arbitrary  times  the  Earl 
Marshal's  men  have  been  known  to  stop  the  car- 
riage oi  ?i parvenu,  and  by  force  deface  his  illegally 
assumed  arms. 

Heralds'  fees  in  the  Middle  Ages  were  very  high. 
At  the  coronation  of  Richard  II.  they  received 
;^ioo,  and  100  marks  at  that  of  the  queen.  On 
royal  birthdays  and  on  great  festivals  they  also 
required  largess.  The  natural  result  of  this  was 
that,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  V.,  William  Burgess, 
Garter  King  of  Arms,  was  able  to  entertain  the 
Emperor  Sigismund  in  sumptuous  state  at  his 
house  at  Kentish  Town. 

The  escutcheons  on  the  south  wall  of  the  college 
— one  bearing  the  legs  of  Man,  and  the  other  the 
eagle's  claw  of  the  House  of  Stanley — are  not 
ancient,  and  were  merely  put  up  to  hcraldically 
mark  the  site  of  old  Derby  House. 

In  the  Rev.  Mark  Noble's  elaborate  "History  of 
the  College  of  Arms  "  we  find  some  curious  stories 
of  worthy  and  unworthy  heralds.  Among  the  evil 
spirits  was  Sir  William  Dethick,  Garter  King  at  Arms, 
who  provoked  Elizabeth  by  drawing  out  treason- 
able emblazonments  for  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  and 
James  I.  by  hinting  doubts,  as  it  is  supposed,  against 
the  right  of  the  Stuarts  to  the  crown.  He  was  at 
length  displaced.  He  seems  to  have  been  an 
arrogant,  stormy,  proud  man,  who  used  at  public 
ceremonials  to  buffet  the  heralds  and  pursuivants 


298 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Heralds'  College. 


who  blundered  or  offended  him.  He  was  buried  at 
St.  Paul's,  in  16 12,  near  the  grave  of  Edward  III.'s 
herald,  Sir  Pain  Roet,  Guienne  King  at  Arms, 
and  Chaucer's  father-in-law.  Another  black  sheep 
was  Cook,  Clarencieux  King  at  Arms  in  the  reign 
of  Queen  Elizabeth,  who  was  accused  of  granting 
arms  to  any  one  for  a  large  fee,  and  of  stealing 
forty  or  fifty  heraldic  books  from  the  college  library. 
There  was  also  Ralph  Brooke,  York  Herald 
in  the  same  reign,  a  malicious  and  ignorant  man, 
who  attempted  to  confute  some  of  Camden's 
genealogies  in  the  "Britannia."  He  broke  open 
and  stole  some  muniments  from  the  office,  and 
finally,  for  two  felonies,  was  burnt  in  the  hand  at 
Newgate. 

To  such  rascals  we  must  oppose  men  of  talent 
and  scholarship  like  the  great  Camden.  This  grave 
and  learned  antiquary  was  the  son  of  a  painter  in 
the  Old  Bailey,  and,  as  second  master  of  West- 
minster School,  became  known  to  the  wisest  and 
most  learned  men  of  London,  Ben  Jonson 
honouring  him  as  a  father,  and  Burleigh,  Bacon, 
and  Lord  Broke  regarding  him  as  a  friend.  His 
"Britannia"  is  invaluable,  and  his  "Annals  of 
Elizabeth  "  are  full  of  the  heroic  and  soaring  spirit 
of  that  great  age.  Camden's  house,  at  Chislehurst, 
was  that  in  which  the  Emperor  Napoleon  has 
recently  died. 

Sir  William  Le  Neve  (Charles  I.),  Clarencieux,  was 
another  most  learned  herald.  He  is  said  to  have 
read  the  king's  proclamation  at  Edgehill  with  great 
marks  of  fear.  His  estate  was  sequestered  by  the 
Parliament,  and  he  afterwards  went  mad  from  loyal 
and  private  grief  and  vexation.  In  Charles  II.'s 
reign  we  fmd  the  famous  antiquary,  Elias  Ashmole, 
Windsor  Herald  for  several  years.  He  was  the 
son  of  a  Lichfield  saddler,  and  was  brought  up  as 
a  chorister-boy.  That  impostor,  Lilly,  calls  him  the 
"  greatest  virtuoso  and  curioso "  that  was  ever 
known  or  read  of  in  England;  for  he  excelled  in 
music,  botany,  chemistry,  heraldry,  astrology,  and 
antiquities.  His  "  History  of  the  Order  of  the 
Garter  "  formed  no  doubt  part  of  his  studies  at  the 
College  of  Arms. 

In  the  same  reign  as  Ashmole,  that  great  and 
laborious  antiquary.  Sir  William  Dugdale,  was 
Garter  King  of  Arms.  In  early  life  he  became  j 
acquainted  with  Spelman,  an  antiquary  as  profound 
as  himself,  and  with  the  same  mediaeval  power  of 
work.  He  fought  for  King  Charles  in  the  Civil 
Wars.  His  great  work  was  the  "  Monasticon  Angli- 
canum,"  three  volumes  folio,  which  disgusted  the 
Puritans  and  delighted  the  Catholics.  His  "His- 
tory of  Warwickshire  "  was  considered  a  model  of 
county  histories.      His    "  Baronage  of  England " 


'  contained  many  errors.     In  his  visitations  he  was 
very  severe  in  defacing  fictitious  arms. 

Francis  Sandford,  first  Rouge  Dragon  Pursuivant, 
and  then  Lancaster  Herald  (Charles  II.,  James  II.), 
published  an  excellent  "  Genealogical  History  of 
England,"  and  curious  accounts  of  the  funeral  of 
General  Monk  and  the  coronation  of  James  II. 
He  was  so  attached  to  James  that  he  resigned  his 
office  at  the  Revolution,  and  died,  true  to  the  last, 
old,  poor,  and  neglected,  somewhere  in  Bloomsbury, 
in  1693. 

Sir  John  Vanbrugh,  the  witty  dramatist,  for 
building  Castle  Howard,  was  made  Clarencieux 
King  of  Arms,  to  the  great  indignation  of  the 
heralds,  whose  pedantry  he  ridiculed.  He  after- 
wards sold  his  place  for  ;^2,ooo,  avowing  igno- 
rance of  his  profession  and  his  constant  neglect 
of  his  official  duties. 

In  the  same  reign,  to  Peter  Le  Neve  (Norroy) 
we  are  indebted  for  the  careful  preservation  of 
the  invaluable  "  Paxton  Letters,"  of  the  reigns  of 
Henry  VI.,  Edward  IV.,  and  Richard  III.,  pur- 
chased and  afterwards  published  by  Sir  John 
Fenn. 

Another  eminent  herald  was  John  Anstis,  created 
Garter  in  17 18  (George  I.),  after  being  imprisoned 
as  a  Jacobite.  He  wrote  learned  works  on  the 
Orders  of  the  Garter  and  the  Bath,  and  left  behind 
him  valuable  materials — his  MS.  for  the  "  History 
of  the  College  of  Arms,"  now  preserved  in  the 
librar)% 

Francis  Grose,  that  roundabout,  jovial  friend  of 
Burns,  was  Richmond  Herald  for  many  years,  but 
he  resigned  his  appointment  in  1763,  to  become 
Adjutant  and  Paymaster  of  the  Hampshire  Militia. 
Grose  was  the  son  of  a  Swiss  jeweller,  who  had 
settled  in  London.  His  "  Views  of  Antiquities  in 
England  and  Wales"  helped  to  restore  a  taste  for 
Gothic  art.     He  died  in  1791. 

Of  Oldys,  that  eccentric  antiquary,  who  was 
Norroy  King  at  Arms  in  the  reign  of  George  II. 
— the  Duke  of  Norfolk  having  appointed  him  from 
the  pleasure  he  felt  at  the  perusal  of  his  "  Life  of 
Sir  Walter  Raleigh"  —  Grose  gives  an  amusing 
account : — 

"  William  Oldys,  Norroy  King  at  Arms,"  says 
Grose,  "  author  of  the  '  Life  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,' 
and  several  others  in  the  '  Biographia  Britannica,' 
was  natural  son  of  a  Dr.  Oldys,  in  the  Commons, 
who  kept  his  mother  very  privately,  and  probably 
very  meanly,  as  when  he  dined  at  a  tavern  he 
used  to  beg  leave  to  send  home  part  of  the  remains 
of  any  fish  or  fowl  for  his  cat,  which  cat  was  after- 
wards found  out  to  be  Mr.  Oldys'  mother.  His 
parents  dying  when  he  was  very  young,  he  soon 


Heralds'  Collese.] 


A   NOTABLE   NORROY   KING  AT  ARMS. 


299 


squandered  away  his  small  patrimony,  when  he  singular.  He  had  a  number"  of  small  parchment 
became  first  an  attendant  in  Lord  Oxford's  library  bags  inscribed  with  the  names  of  the  persons 
and  afterwards  librarian.  He  was  a  little  mean-  whose  lives  he  intended  to  write ;  into  these  bags 
looking  man,  of  a  vulgar  address,  and,  when  I  knew  he  put  every  circumstance  and  anecdote  he  could 
him,  rarely  sober  in  the  afternoon,  never  after  1  collect,  and  from  thence  drew  up  his  history.  By 
supper.  His  favourite  liquor  was  porter,  with  a  '  his  excesses  he  was  kept  poor,  so  that  he  was 
glass  of  gin  between  each  pot.  Dr.  Ducarrel  told  frequently  in  distress ;  and  at  his  death,  which 
me  he  used  to  stint  Oldys  to  three  pots  of  beer  :  happened  about  five  on  Wednesday  morning,  April 
whenever  he  visited  him.  Oldys  seemed  to  have  15th,  1761,  he  left  little  more  than  was  sufficient 
little  classical  learning,  and  knew  nothing  of  the  to  bury  him.  Dr.  Taylor,  the  oculist,  son  of  the 
sciences ;  but  for  index-reading,  title-pages,  and  the  famous  doctor  of  that  name  and  profession,  claimed 
knowledge  of  scarce  English  books  and  editions,    administration  at  the  Commons,  on  account  of  his 


he  had  no  equal.  This  he  had  probably  picked 
up  in  Lord  Oxford's  service,  after  whose  death  he 
was  obliged  to  write  for  the  booksellers  for  a 
subsistence.  Amongst  many  other  publications, 
chiefly  in  the  biographical  line,  he  wrote  the  '  Life 
of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,'  which  got  him  much  repu- 
tation. The  Duke  of  Norfolk,  in  particular,  was 
so  pleased  with  it  that  he  resolved  to  provide 
for  him,  and  accordingly  gave  him  the  patent  of 
Norroy  King  at  Arms,  then  vacant.  The  patronage 
of  that  duke  occasioned  a  suspicion  of  his  being 
a  Papist,  though  I  really  think  without  reason ; 
this  for  a  while  retarded  his  appointment.  It  was 
underhand  propagated  by  the  heralds,  who  were 
vexed  at  having  a  stranger  put  in  upon  them.  He 
was  a  man  of  great  good -nature,  honour,  and 
integrity,  particularly  in  his  character  as  an  his- 
torian. Nothing,  I  firmly  believe,  would  ever  have 
biassed  him  to  insert  any  fact  in  his  writings  he 
did  not  believe,  or  to  suppress  any  he  did.  Of 
this  delicacy  he  gave  an  instance  at  a  time  when 
he  was  in  great  distress.  After  the  publication  of 
his  '  Life  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,'  some  booksellers, 
thinking  his  name  would  sell  a  piece  they  were 
publishing,  offered  him  a  considerable  sum  to 
father  it,  which  he  refused  with  the  greatest  indig- 
nation. He  was  much  addicted  to  low  company ; ! 
most  of  his  evenings  he  spent  at  the  *  Bell '  in  the  side  door  of  the  Haymarket  Theatre.  Mr.  Brooke 
Old  Bailey,  a  house  within  the  liberties  of  the  Fleet,  j  had  died  standing,  and  was  found  as  if  asleep,  and 
frequented  by  persons  whom  he  jocularly  called  with  colour  still  in  his  cheeks. 
n^/ers,  from  their  being  confined  to  the  rules  or  |  Edmund  Lodge,  Lancaster  Herald,  who  died  in 
limits  of  that  prison.  From  this  house  a  watchman,  j  1839,  is  chiefly  known  for  his  interesting  series  of 
whom  he  kept  regularly  in  pay,  used  to  lead  him  :  "Portraits  of  Illustrious  British  Personages,"  accom- 
home  before  twelve  o'clock,  in  order  to  save  sixpence  panied  by  excellent  genealogical  and  biographical 
paid  to  the  porter  of  the  Heralds'  office,  by  all  those    memoirs. 

who  came  home  after  that  time ;  sometimes,  and        During  the  Middle  Ages  heralds  were  employed 
not  unfrequently,  two  were  necessary.  He  could  not 


being  nullius  films — Anglice,  a  bastard.  He  was 
buried  the  19th  following,  in  the  north  aisle  of  the 
Church  of  St.  Benet,  Paul's  Wharf,  towards  the 
upper  end  of  the  aisle.  He  was  about  seventy- 
two  years  old.  Amongst  his  nvorks  is  a  preface  to 
I/aak  Walton's  'Angler.'" 

The  following  pretty  anacreontic,  on  a  fly  drink- 
ing out  of  his  cup  of  ale,  v/hich  is  doubtless  well 
known,  is  from  the  pen  of  Oldys  : — 

"  Busy,  curious,  thirsty  fly, 
Drink  with  me,  and  drink  as  I  ; 
Freely  welcome  to  my  cup, 
Couldst  thou  sip  and  sip  it  up. 
Make  the  most  of  life  you  may  ; 
Life  is  short,  and  wears  away. 

* '  Both  alike  are  mine  and  thine, 
Hastening  quick  to  their  decline  ; 
Thine's  a  summer,  mine  no  more, 
Though  repeated  to  threescore  ; 
Threescore  summers,  when  they're  gone. 
Will  appear  as  short  as  one." 

The  Rev.  Mark  Noble  comments  upon  Grose's 
text  by  saying  that  this  story  of  the  crown  must  be 
incorrect,  as  the  coronet  at  the  funeral  of  a  princess 
is  always  carried  by  Clarencieux,  and  not  by  Norroy. 

In  1794,  two  eminent  heralds,  Benjamin  Pingo, 
York  HeraWjand  John  Charles  Brooke,  Somerset 
Herald,  were  crushed  to  death  in  a  crowd  at  the 


resist  the  temptation  of  liquor,  even  when  he  was 
to  officiate  on  solemn  occasions ;  for  at  the  burial  of 


to  bear  letters,  defiances,  and  treaties  to  foreign 
princes  and  persons  in  authority ;  to  proclaim  war, 
and  bear  offers  of  marriage,  &c. ;  and  after  battles 


the  Princess  Caroline  he  was  so  intoxicated  that  he  j  to  catalogue  the  dead,  and  note  their  rank  by  the 
could  scarcely  walk,  but  reeled  about  with  a  crown  heraldic  bearings  on  their  banners,  shields,  and 
'  coronet '  on  a  cushion,  to  the  great  scandal  of  his  tabards.  In  later  times  they  were  allowed  to  correct 
brethren.    His  method  of  composing  was  somewhat  I  false  crests,  arms,  and  cognizances,  and  register  noble 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Heralds'  College. 


descents  in  their  archives.  They  conferred  arms 
on  those  who  proved  themselves  able  to  maintain 
the  state  of  a  gentleman,  they  marshalled  great  or 
rich  men's  funerals,  arranged  armorial  bearings 
for  tombs  and  stained-glass  windows,  and  laid 
down  the  laws  of  precedence  at  state  ceremonials. 
Arms,  it  appears  from  Mr.  Planche,  were  sold 
to  the  "  new  rich "  as  early  as  the  reign  of  King 
Henry  VIIL,  who  wished  to  make  a  new  race 
of  gentry,  in  order  to  lessen  the  power  of  the  old 
nobles.     The  fees  varied  then  from  jQd  13s.  6d. 

to  £s- 

In  the  old  times  the  heralds'  messengers  were 


able : — A  book  of  emblazonment  executed  for 
Prince  Arthur,  the  brother  of  Henry  VHL,  who 
died  young,  and  whose  widow  Henry  married  -.  the 
Warwick  Roll,  a  series  of  figures  of  all  the  Earls 
of  Warwick  from  the  Conquest  to  the  reign  of 
Richard  IH.,  executed  by  Rouse,  a  celebrated 
antiquary  of  Warwick,  at  the  close  of  the  fifteenth 
century ;  and  a  tournament  roll  of  Henry  VHL,  in 
which  that  stalwart  monarch  is  depicted  in  regal 
state,  with  all  the  "  pomp,  pride,  and  circumstance 
of  glorious  (mimic)  war."  In  the  gallery  over  the 
library  are  to  be  seen  the  sword  and  dagger  which 
belonged  to   the   unfortunate  James   of  Scotland, 


SWORD,   DAGGER,  AND  RINO  OF  KINO  JAAfES  OF  SCOTLAND.     {Preserved  in  the  Heralds'  Ccl/e^e. ) 


called  knights  caligate.  After  seven  years  they 
became  knight-riders  (our  modern  Queen's  mes- 
sengers) ;  after  seven  years  more  they  became  pur- 
suivants, and  then  heralds.  In  later  times,  says 
Mr.  Planche,  the  herald's  honourable  office  was 
transferred  to  nominees  of  the  Tory  nobility,  dis- 
carded valets,  butlers,  or  sons  of  upper  servants. 
Mr.  Canning,  when  Premier,  very  properly  put  a 
stop  to  this  system,  and  appointed  to  this  post 
none  but  young  and  intelligent  men  of  manners 
and  education. 

Among  the  many  curious  volumes  of  genealogy 
in  the  library  of  the  College  of  Arms — volumes 
which  have  been  the  result  of  centuries  of  exploring 
and  patient  study — the  following  are  chiefly  notice- 


that  chivalrous  king  who  died  fighting  to  tlie  last 
on  the  hill  at  Flodden,  The  sword-hilt  has  been 
enamelled,  and  still  shows  traces  of  gilding  which 
has  once  been  red-wet  with  the  Southron's  blood ; 
and  the  dagger  is  a  strong  and  serviceable  weapon, 
as  no  doubt  many  an  English  archer  and  billman 
that  day  felt.  The  heralds  also  show  the  plain  tur- 
quoise ring  which  tradition  says  the  French  queen 
sent  James,  begging  him  to  ride  a  foray  in  England. 
Copies  of  it  have  been  made  by  the  London 
jewellers.  These  trophies  are  heirlooms  of  the 
house  of  Howard,  whose  bend  argent,  to  use  the 
words  of  Mr.  Planche',  received  the  honourable 
augmentation  of  the  Scottish  lion,  in  testimony  of 
the  prowess  displayed  by  the  gallant  soldier  who 


Heralds'  College.] 


TREASURES   IN   THE   HERALDS'  COLLEGE.' 


301 


commanded  the  English  forces  on  that  memorable 
occasion.  Here  is  also  to  be  seen  a  portrait  of 
Talbot,  Earl  of  Shrewsbury  (the  great  warrior),  from 
his  tomb  in  Old  St.  Paul's;  a  curious  pedigree 
of  the  Saxon  kings  from  Adam,  illustrated  with 
many  beautiful  drawings  in  pen  and  ink,  about  the 


Lodge  derived  his  well-known  "Illustrations  of 
British  History;"  notes,  &c.,  made  by  Glover,  Vin- 
cent, Philpot,  and  Dugdale ;  a  volume  in  the  hand- 
writing of  the  venerable  Camden  ("Clarencieux") ; 
the  collections  of  Sir  Edward  Walker,  Secretary  at 
War  {temp.  Charles  I.). 


LINACRE's  house.     From  a  Print  in  the  "  Cold-Iuadcd  Cane^^  (see  Jiage  303). 


period  of  Henry  VIII.,  representing  the  Creation, 
Adam  and  Eve  in  Paradise,  the  building  of  Babel, 
the  rebuilding  of  the  Temple,  &c.  &c. ;  MSS.,  con- 
sisting chiefly  of  heralds'  visitations,  records  of 
grants  of  arms  and  royal  licences ;  records  of  modern 
pedigrees  {i.e.,  since  the  discontinuance  of  the 
visitations  in  1687);  a  most  valuable  collection  of 
official  funeral  certificates ;  a  portion  of  the  Arundel 
MSS. ;  the  Shrewsbury  or  Cecil  papers,  from  which 
26 


The  Wardrobe,  a  house  long  belonging  to  the 
Government,  in  the  Blackfriars,  was  built  by  Sir 
John  Beauchamp  (died  1359),  whose  tomb  in  Old 
St.  Paul's  was  usually  taken  for  the  tomb  of  the  good 
Duke  Humphrey.  Beauchamp's  executors  sold  it 
to  Edward  III.,  and  it  was  subsequently  converted 
into  the  office  of  the  Master  of  the  Wardrobe,  and 
the  repository  for  the  royal  clothes.  When  Stow 
drew   up   his  "Survey,"  Sir  John   Fortescue  was 


302 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Heralds'  College. 


lodged  in  the  house  as  Master  of  the  Wardrobe. 
What  a  royal  ragfair  this  place  must  have  been  for 
rummaging  antiquaries,  equal  to  twenty  Madame 
Tussaud's  and  all  the  ragged  regiments  of  West- 
minster Abbey  put  together ! 

"There  were  also  kept,"  says  Fuller,  "in  this 
place  the  ancient  clothes  of  our  English  kings, 
which  they  wore  on  great  festivals;  so  that  this 
Wardrobe  was  in  effect  a  library  for  antiquaries, 
therein  to  read  the  mode  and  fashion  of  garments 
in  all  ages.  These  King  James  in  the  beginning 
of  his  reign  gave  to  the  Earl  of  Dunbar,  by  whom 
they  were  sold,  re-sold,  and  re-re-re-sold  at  as  many 
hands  almost  as  Briareus  had,  some  gaining  vast 
estates  thereby."     (Fuller's  "Worthies.") 

We  mentioned  before  that  Shakespeare  in  his 
will  left  to  his  favourite  daughter,  Susannah,  the 
Wanvickshire  doctor's  -nife,  a  house  near  the  Ward- 
robe ;  but  the  exact  words  of  the  document  may 
be  worth  quoting  : — 

"I  gyve,  will,  bequeath,"  says  the  poet,  "and 
devise  unto  my  daughter,  Susannah  Hall,  all  that 
messuage  or  tenement,  with  the  appurtenances, 
wherein  one  John  Robinson  dwelleth,  situat,  lying, 
and  being  in  the  Blackfriars  in  Londan,  nerethe 
Wardrobe." 

After  the  Great  Fire  the  Wardrobe  was  removed, 
first  to  the  Savoy,  and  afterwards  to  Buckingham 
Street,  in  the  Strand.  The  last  master  was  Ralph, 
Duke  of  Montague,  on  whose  death,  in  1709, 
the  office,  says  Cunningham,  was,  "  I  believe, 
abolished." 

Swan  Alley,  near  the  Wardrobe,  reminds  us  of 
the  Beauchamps,  for  the  swan  was  the  cognizance 
of  the  Beauchamp  family,  long  distinguished  resi- 
dents in  this  part  of  London. 

In  the  Council  Register  of  the  i8th  of  August, 
1618,  there  may  be  seen  "  A  List  of  Buildings  and 
Foundations  since  16 15."  It  is  therein  said  that 
Edward  Alleyn,  Esq.,  dwelling  at  Dulwich  (the  well- 
known  player  and  founder  of  Dulwich  College),  had 
built  six  tenements  of  timber  upon  new  founda- 
tions, within  two  years  past,  in  Swan  Alley,  near 
the  Wardrobe." 

In  Great  Carter  Lane  stood  the  old  Bell  Inn, 
whence,  in  1598,  Richard  Quyney  directs  a  letter 
"To  my  loving  good  friend  and  countryman, 
Mr.  Wm.  Shackespeare,  deliver  thees" — the  only 
letter  addressed  to  Shakespeare  known  to  exist. 
The  original  was  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  R.  B. 
Wheeler,  of  Stratford-upon-Avon. 

Stow  mixes  up  the  old  houses  near  Doctors' 
Commons  with  Rosamond's  Bower  at  Woodstock. 

"  Upon  Paul's  Wharf  Hill,"  he  says,  "  within  a 
great  gate,  next  to  the  Doctors'  Commons,  were 


many  fair  tenements,  which,  in  their  leases  made 
from  the  Dean  and  Chapter,  went  by  the  name  of 
Camera  Diance — i.e.,  Diana's  Chamber,  so  denomi- 
nated from  a  spacious  building  that  in  the  time  of 
Henry  II.  stood  where  they  were.  In  this  Camera, 
an  arched  and  vaulted  structure,  full  of  intricate 
ways  and  windings,  this  Henry  II.  (as  some  time 
he  did  at  Woodstock)  kept,  or  was  supposed  to 
have  kept,  that  jewel  of  his  heart,  Fair  Rosamond, 
she  whom  there  he  called  Rosamundi,  and  here 
by  the  name  of  Diana ;  and  from  hence  had  this 
house  that  title. 

"  For  a  long  time  there  remained  some  evident 
testifications  of  tedious  turnings  and  windings,  as 
also  of  a  passage  underground  from  this  house  to 
Castle  Baynard  ;  which  was,  no  doubt,  the  king's 
way  from  thence  to  his  Camera  Dianae,  or  the 
chamber  of  his  brightest  Diana." 

St.  Anne's,  within  the  precinct  of  the  Blackfriars, 
was  pulled  down  with  the  Friars  Church  by  Sir 
Thomas  Cawarden,  Master  of  the  Revels  ;  but  in 
the  reign  of  Queen  Mary,  he  being  forced  to  find  a 
church  to  the  inhabitants,  allowed  them  a  lodging 
chamber  above  a  stair,  which  since  that  time,  to 
wit  in  the  year  1597,  fell  down,  and  was  again,  by 
collection  therefore  made,  new  built  and  enlarged 
in  the  same  year. 

The  parish  register  records  the  burials  of  Isaac 
Oliver,  the  miniature  painter  (16 17),  Dick  Robinson, 
the  player  (1647),  Nat.  Field,  the  poet  and  player 
(1632-3),  William  Faithorn,  the  engraver  (1691) ; 
and  there  are  the  following  interesting  entries  re- 
lating to  Vandyck,  who  lived  and  died  in  this 
parish,  leaving  a  sum  of  money  in  his  will  to  its 
poor  : — 

"Jasper  Lanfranch,  a  Dutchman,  from  Sir  Anthony 
Vandikes,  buried  14th  February,  1638." 

"Martin  Ashent,  Sir  Anthony  Vandike's  man, 
buried  12th  March,  1638." 

"Justinia,  daughter  to  Sir  Anthony  Vandyke 
and  his  lady,  baptised  9th  December,  1641." 

The  child  was  baptised  on  the  very  day  her 
illustrious  father  died. 

A  portion  of  the  old  burying-ground  is  still  to  be 
seen  in  Church-entry,  Ireland  Yard. 

"  In  this  parish  of  St.  Benet's,  in  Thames  Street," 
says  Stow,  "  stood  Le  Neve  Inn,  belonging  formerly 
to  John  de  Mountague,  Earl  of  Salisbury,  and  after 
to  Sir  John  Beauchamp,  Kt,  granted  to  Sir  Thomas 
Erpinghara,  Kt.,  of  Erpingham  in  Norfolk,  and 
Warden  of  the  Cinque  Ports,  Knight  of  the  Garter. 
By  the  south  end  of  Adle  Street,  almost  against 
Puddle  Wharf,  there  is  one  antient  building  of 
stone  and  timber,  builded  by  the  Lords  of  Berkeley, 
and  therefore  called  Berkeley's  Inn.     This  house  is 


Heralds' College.]       LINACRE'S   HOUSE  AND   COLLEGE   OF   PHYSICIANS. 


303 


now  all  in  ruin,  and  letten  out  in  several  tenements  ; 
yet  the  arms  of  the  Lord  Berkeley  remain  in  the 
stone-work  of  an  arched  gate ;  and  is  between  a 
chevron,  crosses  ten,  three,  three,  and  four." 

Richard  Beauchamp,  Earl  of  Warwick,  was 
lodged  in  this  house,  then  called  Berkeley's  Inn, 
in  the  parish,  of  St.  Andrew,  in  the  reigil  of 
Henry  VI. 

St.  Andrew's  Wardrobe  Church  is  situated 
upon  rising  ground,  on  the  east  side  of  Puddle- 
Dock  Hill,  in  the  ward  of  Castle  Baynard.  The 
advowson  of  this  church  was  anciently  in  the  noble 
family  of  Fitzwalter,  to  whicli  it  probably  came  by 
virtue  of  the  office  of  Constable  of  the  Castle  of 
London  (that  is,  Baynard's  Castle).  That  it  is 
not  of  a  modern  foundation  is  evident  by  its 
having  had  Robert  Marsh  for  its  rector,  before  the 
year  1322.  This  church  was  anciently  denomi- 
nated "St.  Andrew  juxta  Baynard's  Castle,"  from 
its  vicinity  to  that  palace. 

"Knightrider  Street  was  so  called,"  says  Stow, 
"(as  is  supposed),  of  knights  riding  from  thence 
through  the  street  west  to  Creed  Lane,  and  so  out 
at  Ludgate  towards  Smithfield,  when  they  were 
there  to  tourney,  joust,  or  otherwise  to  show  acti- 
vities before  the  king  and  states  of  the  realm." 

Linacre's  house  in  Knightrider  Street  was  given 
by  him  to  the  College  of  Physicians,  and  used 
as  their  place  of  meeting  till  the  early  part  of  the 
seventeenth  century. 

In  his  student  days  Linacre  had  been  patronised 
by  Lorenzo  de  Medicis,  and  at  Florence,  under 
Demetrius  Chalcondylas,  who  had  fled  from  Con- 
stantinople when  it  was  taken  by  the  Turks,  he 
acquired  a  perfect  knowledge  of  the  Greek  language. 
He  studied  eloquence  at  Bologna,  under  Politian, 
one  of  the  most  eloquent  Latinists  in  Europe,  and 
while  he  was  at  Rome  devoted  himself  to  medicine 
and  the  study  of  natural  philosophy,  under  Her- 
molaus  Barbarus.  Linacre  was  the  first  English- 
man who  read  'Aristotle  and  Galen  in  the  original 
Greek.  On  his  return  to  England,  having  taken 
the  degree  of  M.D.  at  Oxford,  he  gave  lectures  in 
physic,  and  taught  the  Greek  language  in  that 
university.  His  reputation  soon  became  so  high 
that  King  Henry  VII.  called  him  to  court,  and 
entrusted  him  with  the  care  of  the  health  and  edu- 
cation of  his  son.  Prince  Arthur.  To  show  the 
extent  of  his  acquirements,  we  may  mention  that 
he  instructed  Princess  Katharine  in  the  Italian  lan- 
guage, and  that  he  published  a  work  on  mathe- 
matics, which  he  dedicated  to  his  pupil.  Prince 
Arthur. 

His  treatise  on  grammar  was  warmly  praised  by 
Melancthon.     This  great  doctor  was  successively 


physician  to  Henry  VII.,  Henry  VIIL,  Edward  VL, 
and  the  Princess  Mary.  He  established  lectures 
on  physic  (says  Dr.  Macmichael,  in  his  amusing 
book,  "  The  Gold-headed  Cane  "),  and  towards  the 
close  of  his  life  he  founded  the  Royal  College  of 
Physicians,  holding  the  office  of  President  for  seven 
years.  Linacre  was  a  friend  of  Lily,  the  grammarian, 
and  was  consulted  by  Erasmus.  The  College  of 
Physicians  first  met  in  15 18  at  Linacre's  house  (now 
called  the  Stone  House),  Knightrider  Street,  and 
which  still  belongs  to  the  society.  Between  the  two 
centre  windows  of  the  first  floor  are  the  arms  of  the 
college,  granted  1546 — a  hand  proper,  vested  argent, 
issuing  out  of  clouds,  and  feeling  a  pulse ;  in  base,  a 
pomegranate  between  five  demi  fleurs-de-lis  border- 
ing the  edge  of  the  escutcheon.  In  front  of  the  build- 
ing was  a  library,  and  there  were  early  donations  of 
books,  globes,  mathematical  instruments,  minerals, 
&c.  Dissections  were  first  permitted  by  Queen 
Elizabeth,  in  1564,  As  soon  as  the  first  lec- 
tures were  founded,  in  1583,  a  spacious  anatomical 
theatre  was  built  adjoining  Linacre's  house,  and 
here  the  great  Dr.  Harvey  gave  his  first  course  of 
lectures ;  but  about  the  time  of  the  accession  of* 
Charles  I.  the  College  removed  to  a  house  of  the 
Dean  and  Chapter  of  St.  Paul's,  at  the  bottom 
of  Amen  Corner,  where  they  planted  a  botanical 
garden  and  built  an  anatomical  theatre.  During 
the  civil  wars  the  Parliament  levied  j£s  a  week 
on  the  College.  Eventually  sold  by  the  Puritans, 
the  house  and  gardens  were  purchased  by  Dr. 
Harvey  and  given  to  the  society.  The  great 
Harvey  built  a  museum  and  library  at  his  own 
expense,  which  were  opened  in  1653,  and  Harvey, 
then  nearly  eighty,  relinquished  his  office  of  Pro- 
fessor of  Anatomy  and  Surgery.  The  garden  at  this 
time  extended  as  far  west  as  the  Old  Bailey,  and 
as  far  south  as  St.  Martin's  Church.  Harvey's  gift 
consisted  of  a  convocation  room  and  a  library,  to 
which  Selden  contributed  some  Oriental  MS.,  Elias 
Ashmole  many  valuable  volumes,  the  Marquis  of 
Dorchester  ^100;  and  Sir  Theodore  Mayerne, 
physician  to  four  kings — viz.,  Henry  IV.  of  France, 
James  I.,  Charles  I.,  and  Charles  II. — left  his 
library.  The  old  library  was  turned  into  a  lecture 
and  reception  room,  for  such  visitors  as  Charles  II., 
who  in  1665  attended  here  the  anatomical  prae- 
lections  of  Dr.  Ent,  whom  he  knighted  on  the 
occasion.  This  building  was  destroyed  by  the 
Great  Fire,  from  which  only  112  folio  books  were 
saved.  The  College  never  rebuilt  its  premises, 
and  on  the  site  were  erected  the  houses  of  three 
residentiaries  of  St.  Paul's.  Shortly  after  a  piece 
of  ground  was  purchased  in  Warwick  Lane,  and 
the  new  building  opened  in  1674.     A  similar  grant 


304 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON, 


tCheapside., 


to  that  of  Linacre's  was  that  of  Dr.  Lettsom,  who 
in  the  year  1773  gave  the  house  and  Hbraiy  in 
I'olt  Court,  which  is  at  the  present  moment  occu- 
pied by  thp  ISIedical  Society  of  London, 


The  view  of  Linacre's  House,  in  Knightrider 
Street,  which  we  give  on  page  301,  is  taken  from  a 
print  in  the  "  Gold-headed  Cane,"  an  amusing  work 
to  which  we  have  already  referred. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 
CHEAPSIDE— INTRODUCTORY    AND  HISTORICAL. 

Ancient  Reminiscences  of  Cheapside — Stoi-my  Days  therein— The  Westchepe  Market — Something  about  the  Pillory — The  Cheapside  Conduits — 
The  Goldsmiths'  Monopoly— Cheapside  Market — Gossip  anent  Cheapside  by  Mr.  Pepys— A  Saxon  Rienzi—Anti- Free-Trade  Riots  in  Cheap- 
side — Arrest  of  the  Rioters — ^A  Royal  Pardon — Jane  Shore. 


What  a  wealth  and  dignity  there  is  about  Cheap- 
side;  what  restless  life  and  energy  ;  .with  what 
vigorous  pulsation  life  beats  to  and  fro  in  that  great 
commercial  artery  !  How  pleasantly  on  a  summer 
morning  that  last  of  the  Mohicans,  the  green 
plane-tree  now  deserted  by  the  rooks,  at  the  comer 
of  Wood  Street,  flutters  its  leaves  !  How  fast  the 
crowded  omnibuses  dash  past  with  their  loads  of 
young  Greshams  and  future  rulers  of  Lombard 
Street!  How  grandly  Bow  steeple  bears  itself, 
rising  proudly  in  the  sunshine  !  How  the  great 
webs  of  gold  chains  sparkle  in  the  jeweller's 
windows !  How  modem  everything  looks,  and , 
yet  only  a  short  time  since  some  workmen  at  a 
foundation  in  Cheapside,  twenty-five  feet  below 
the  surface,  came  upon  traces  of  primeval  inhabi- 
tants in  the  shape  of  a  deer's  skull,  with  antlers, 
and  the  skull  of  a  wolf,  struck  down,  perhaps,  more 
than  a  thousand  years  ago,  by  the  bronze  axe  of 
some  British  savage.  So  the  world  rolls  on:  the 
times  change,  and  we  change  with  them. 

The  engraving  which  we  give  on  page  307  is  from 
one  of  the  most  ancient  representations  extant 
of  Cheapside.  It  shows  the  street  decked  out  in 
holiday  attire  for  the  procession  of  the  wicked 
old  queen-mother,  Marie  de  Medici,  on  her  way 
to  visit  her  son-in-law,  Charles  I.,  and  her  wilful 
daughter,  Henrietta  Maria. 

The  City  records,  explored  with  such  unflagging 
interest  by  Mr.  Riley  in  his  "  Memorials  of  Lon- 
don," furnish  us  with  some  interesting  gleanings 
relating  to  Cheapside.  In  the  old  letter  books  in 
the  Guildhall — the  Black  Book,  Red  Book,  and 
White  Book — we  see  it  in  storm  and  calm,  observe 
the  vigilant  and  jealous  honesty  of  the  guilds,  and 
become  witnesses  again  to  the  bloody  frays,  cruel 
punishments,  and  even  the  petty  disputes  of  the 
middle-age  craftsmen,  when  Cheapside  was  one 
glittering  row  of  goldsmiths'  shops,  and  the  very 
heart  of  the  wealth  of  London.  The  records  culled 
so  carefully  by  Mr.  Riley  are  brief  but  pregnant ; 


they  give  us  facts  uncoloured  by  the  historian,  and 
highly  suggestive  glimpses  of  strange  modes  of  life 
in  wild  and  picturesque  eras  of  our  civilisation. 
Let  us  take  the  most  striking  seriatim. 

In  1273  the  candle-makers  seem  to  have  taken 
a  fancy  to  Cheapside,  where  the  horrible  fumes 
of  that  necessary  but  most  offensive  trade  soon 
excited  the  ire  of  the  rich  citizens,  who  at  last 
expelled  seventeen  of  the  craft  from  their  sheds 
in  Chepe.  In  the  third  year  of  Edward  II.  it  was 
ordered  and  commanded  on  the  king's  behalf,  that 
"no  man  or  woman  should  be  so  bold  as  hence- 
forward to  hold  common  market  for  merchandise 
in  Chepe,  or  any  other  highway  within  the  City, 
except  Cornhill,  after  the  hour  of  nones  "  (probably 
about  two  p.m.);  and  the  same  year  it  was  for- 
bidden, under  pain  of  imprisonment,  to  scour  pots 
in  the  roadway  of  Chepe,  to  the  hindrance  of  folks 
who  were  passing;  so  that  we  may  conclude  that 
in  Edward  II.'s  London  there  was  a  good  deal  of 
that  out-door  work  that  the  traveller  still  sees  in 
the  back  streets  of  Continental  towns. 

Holocausts  of  spurious  goods  were  not  un- 
common in  Cheapside.  In  13 11  (Edward  11.)  we 
find  that  at  the  request  of  the  hatters  and  haber- 
dashers, search  had  been  made  for  traders  selling 
"  bad  and  cheating  hats,"  that  is,  of  false  and  dis- 
honest workmanship,  made  of  a  mixture  of  wool 
and  flocks.  The  result  was  the  seizure  of  forty  grey 
and  white  hats,  and  fifteen  black,  which  were  pub- 
licly burnt  in  the  street  of  Chepe.  What  a  burning 
such  a  search  would  lead  to  in  our  less  scrupulous 
days !  Why,  the  pile  would  reach  half  way  up 
St.  Paul's.  Illegal  nets  had  been  burnt  opposite 
Friday  Street  in  the  previous  reign.  After  the 
hats  came  a  burning  of  fish  panniers  defective  in 
measure ;  while  in  the  reign  of  Edward  III.  some 
false  chopins  (wine  measures)  were  destroyed.  This 
was  rough  justice,  but  still  the  seizures  seem  to 
have  been  far  fewer  than  they  would  be  in  our 
boastful  epoch. 


Cheapside.] 


STORMY    DAVS    IN    CHEAPSIDE. 


305 


There  was  a  generous  lavishness  about  the 
royalty  of  the  Middle  Ages,  however  great  a  fool 
or  scoundrel  the  monarch  might  be.  Thus  we 
read  that  on  the  safe  delivery  of  Queen  Isabel 
(wife  of  Edward  II.),  in  131 2,  of  a  son,  afterwards 
Edward  III.,  the  Conduit  in  Chepe,  for  one  day, 
ran  with  nothing  but  wine,  for  all  those  who  chose 
to  drink  there;  and  at  the  cross,  hard  by  the 
church  of  St.  Michael  in  West  Chepe,  there  was 
a  pavilion  extended  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  in 
which  was  set  a  tun  of  wine,  for  all  passers-by  to 
drink  of. 

The  mediaeval  guilds,  useful  as  they  were  in  keep- 
ing traders  honest  (Heaven  knows,  it  needs  super- 
vision enough,  noAv !),  still  gave  rise  to  jealousies 
and  feuds.  The  sturdy  craftsmen  of  those  days, 
inured  to  arms,  flew  to  the  sword  as  the  quickest 
arbitrator,  and  preferred  clubs  and  bills  to  Chancery 
courts  and  Common  Pleas.  The  stones  of  Chepe 
were  often  crimsoned  with  the  blood  of  these  angry 
disputants.  Thus,  in  1327  (Edward  III.),  the 
saddlers  and  the  joiners  and  bit-makers  came  to 
blows.  In  May  of  that  year  armed  parties  of  these 
rival  trades  fought  right  and  left  in  Cheapside  and 
Cripplegate.  The  whole  city  ran  to  the  windows 
in  alarm,  and  several  workmen  were  killed  and 
many  mortally  wounded,  to  the  great  scandal  of 
the  City,  and  the  peril  of  many  quiet  people. 
The  conflict  at  last  became  so  serious  that  the 
mayor,  aldermen,  and  sherifls  had  to  interpose,  and 
the  dispute  had  to  be  fmally  settled  at  a  great 
discussion  of  the  three  trades  at  the  Guildhall,  with 
what  result  the  record  does  not  state. 

In  this  same  reign  of  Edward  III.  the  excessive 
length  of  the  tavern  signs  ("ale-stakes"  as  they 
were  then  called)  was  complained  of  by  persons 
riding  in  Cheapside.  All  the  taverners  of  the  City 
were  therefore  summoned  to  the  Guildhall,  and 
warned  that  no  sign  or  bush  (hence  the  proverb, 
"  Good  wine  needs  no  bush  ")  should  henceforward 
extend  over  the  king's  highway  beyond  the  length 
of  seven  feet,  under  pain  of  a  fine  of  forty  pence 
to  the  chamber  of  the  Guildhall. 

In  1340  (Edward  III.)  two  more  guilds  fell  to 
quarrelling.  This  time  it  was  the  pelterers  (furriers) 
and  fishmongers,  who  seem  to  have  tanned  each 
other's  hides  Avith  considerable  zeal.  It  came  at 
last  to  this,  that  the  portly  mayor  and  sheriffs  had 
to  venture  out  among  the  sword-blades,  cudgels, 
and  whistling  volleys  of  stones,  but  at  first  with 
little  avail,  for  the  combatants  were  too  hot.  They 
soon  arrested  some  scaly  and  fluffy  misdoers,  it  is 
true ;  but  then  came  a  wild  rush,  and  the  noisy  mis- 
doers  were  rescued ;  and,  most  audacious  of  all, 
one  Thomas,   son  of  John  Hansard,  fishmonger, 


with  sword  drawn  (terrible  to  relate),  seized  the 
mayor  by  his  august  throat,  and  tried  to  lop  him 
on  the  neck;  and  one  brawny  rascal,  John  le 
Brewere,  a  porter,  desperately  wounded  one  of  the 
City  Serjeants  :  so  that  here,  as  the  fishmongers 
would  have  observed,  "  there  was  a  pretty  kettle  of 
fish."  For  striking  a  mayor  blood  for  blood  was 
the  only  expiation,  and  Thomas  and  John  were  at 
once  tried  at  the  Guildhall,  found  guilty  on  their 
own  confession,  and  beheaded  in  Chepe;  upon 
hearing  which  Edward  III.  wrote  to  the  mayor, 
and  complimented  him  on  his  display  of  energy  on 
this  occasion. 

Chaucer  speaks  of    the    restless   'prentices    of 
Cheap  (Edward  III.)  :— 

' '  A  prentis  dwelled  whilom  in  our  citee — 
At  every  bridale  would  he  sing  and  hoppe  ; 
He  loved  bet  the  taveine  than  the  shoppe— 
For  when  ther  eny  riding  vi^as  in  Chepe 
Out  of  the  shoppe  thider  wold  he  lepe. 
And  til  that  he  had  all  the  sight  ysein, 
And  danced  wel,  he  wold  not  come  agen. " 

{ The  Coke's  Tale.) 

In  the  luxurious  reign  of  Richard  II.  the  guilds 
were  again  vigilant,  and  set  fire  to  a  number  of 
caps  that  had  been  oiled  with  rank  grease,  and 
that  had  been  frilled  by  the  feet  and  not  by  the 
hand,  "  so  being  false  and  made  to  deceive  the  com- 
monalty." In  this  same  reign  (1393),  when  the  air 
was  growing  dark  with  coming  mischief,  an  ordi- 
nance was  passed,  prohibiting  secret  huckstering 
of  stolen  and  bad  goods  by  night  "  in  the  common 
hostels,"  instead  of  the  two  appointed  markets  held 
every  feast-day,  by  daylight  only,  in  Westchepe 
and  Comhill.  The  Westchepe  market  was  held 
by  day  between  St.  Lawrence  Lane  and  a  house 
called  "the  Cage,"  between  the  first  and  second 
bell,  and  special  provision  was  made  that  at  these 
markets  no  crowd  should  obstruct  the  shops  ad- 
jacent to  the  open-air  market.  To  close  the  said 
markets  the  "  bedel  of  the  ward"  was  to  ring  a 
bell  (probably,  says  Mr.  Riley,  the  bell  on  the 
Tun,  at  Cornhill)  twice — first,  an  hour  before 
sunset,  and  another  final  one  half  an  hour  later. 
Another  civic  edict  relating  to  markets  occurs  in 
1379  (Richard  II.),  when  the  stands  for  stalls  at 
the  High  Cross  of  Chepe  were  let  by  the  mayor 
and  chamberlain  at  13s.  4d.  each.  At  the  same 
time  the  stalls  round  the  brokers'  cross,  at  the  north 
door  of  St.  Paul's  (erected  by  the  Earl  of  Glou- 
cester in  Henry  III.'s  reign)  were  let  at  los.  and 
6s.  8d.  each.  The  stationers,  or  vendors  in  small 
wares,  on  the  taking  down  of  the  Cross  in  1390, 
probably  retired  to  Paternoster  Row. 

The  punishment  of  the  pillory  (either  in  Cheap- 


3o6 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheapslde. 


side  or  Cornhill,  the  "  Letter  Book"  does  not  say 
which)  was  freely  used  in  the  Middle  Ages  for 
scandal-mongers,  dishonest  traders,  and  forgers ; 
and  very  deterring  the  shameful  exposure  must 
have  been  to  even  the  most  brazen  offender.  Thus, 
in  Richard  IL's  reign,  we  find  John  le  Strattone, 
for  obtaining  thirteen  marks  by  means  of  a  forged 
letter,  was  led  through  Chepe  with  trumpets  and 
pipes  to  the  pillory  on  "  Comhalle"  for  one  hour, 
on  two  successive  days. 

For  the  sake  of  classification  we  may  here 
mention  a  few  earlier  instances  of  the  same  igno- 
minious punishment.  In  1372  (Edward  IIL) 
Nicholas  Mollere,  a  smith's  servant,  for  spreading 
a  lying  report  that  foreign  merchants  were  to  be 
allowed  the  same  rights  as  freemen  of  the  City,  was 
set  in  the  pillory  for  one  hour,  with  a  whetstone 
hung  round  his  neck.  In  the  same  heroic  reign 
Thomas  Lanbye,  a  chapman,  for  selling  rims  of 
base  metal  for  cups,  pretending  them  to  be  silver- 
gilt,  was  put  in  the  pillory  for  two  hours  ;  while  in 
1382  (Richard  II.)  we  find  Roger  Clerk,  of  Wands- 
worth, for  pretending  to  cure  a  poor  woman  of 
fever  by  a  talisman  wrapped  in  cloth  of  gold,  was 
ridden  through  the  City  to  the  music  of  trumpets 
and  pipes;  and  the  same  year  a  cook  in  Bread 
Street,  for  selling  stale  slices  of  cooked  conger,  was 
put  in  the  pillory  for  an  hour,  and  the  said  fish 
burned  under  his  rascally  nose. 

Sometimes,  however,  the  punishment  awarded 
to  these  civic  offenders  consisted  in  less  disgrace- 
ful penance,  as,  for  instance,  in  the  year  1387 
(Richard  II.),  a  man  named  Highton,  who  had 
assaulted  a  worshipful  alderman,  was  sentenced  to 
lose  his  hand;  but  the  man  being  a  servant  of 
the  king,  was  begged  off  by  certain  lords,  on  con- 
dition of  his  walking  through  Chepe  and  Fleet 
Street,  carrying  a  lighted  wax  candle  of  three 
pounds'  weight  to  St.  Dunstan's  Church,  where  he 
was  to  offer  it  on  the  altar. 

In  1 59 1,  the  year  Elizabeth  sent  her  rash  but 
brave  young  favourite,  Essex,  with  3,500  men,  to 
help  Henry  IV.  to  besiege  Rouen,  two  fanatics 
named  Coppinger  and  Ardington,  the  former  calling 
himself  a  prophet  of  mercy  and  the  latter  a  prophet 
of  vengeance,  proclaimed  their  mission  in  Cheap- 
side,  and  were  at  once  laid  by  the  heels.  But 
the  old  public  punishment  still  continued,  for  in 
1600  (the  year  before  the  execution  of  Essex)  we 
read  that  "  Mrs.  Fowler's  case  was  decided  "  by 
sentencing  that  lady  to  be  whipped  in  Bridewell ; 
while  a  Captain  Hermes  was  sent  to  the  pillory, 
his  brother  was  fined  ^xoo  and  imprisoned,  and 
Gascone,  a  soldier,  was  sentenced  to  ride  to  the 
Cheapside  pillory  with  his  face  to  the  horse's  tail, 


to  be   there  branded  in  the  face,  and  afterwards 
imprisoned  for  life. 

In  1578,  when  Elizabeth  was  coquetting  with 
Anjou  and  the  French  marriage,  we  find  in  one  of 
those  careful  lists  of  the  Papists  of  London  kept  by 
her  subtle  councillors,  a  Mr.  Loe,  vintner,  of  the 
"  Mitre,"  Cheapside,  who  married  Dr.  Boner's  sister 
(Bishop  Bonner?).  In  1587,  the  year  before  the 
defeat  of  the  Armada,  and  when  Leicester's  army 
was  still  in  Holland,  doing  little,  and  the  very 
month  that  Sir  William  Stanley  and  13,000  Eng- 
lishmen surrendered  Deventer  to  the  Prince  of 
Parma,  we  find  the  Council  writing  to  the  Lord 
Mayor  about  a  mutiny,  requiring  him  "  to  see  that 
the  soldiers  levied  in  the  City  for  service  in  the 
Low  Countries,  who  had  mutinied  against  Captain 
Sampson,  be  punished  with  some  severe  and  extra- 
ordinary correction.  To  be  tied  to  carts  and 
flogged  through  Cheapside  to  Tower  Hill,  then  to 
be  set  upon  a  pillory,  and  each  to  have  one  ear 
cut  off." 

In  the  reign  of  James  I.  the  same  ignominious 
and  severe  punishment  continued,  for  in  161 1  one 
Floyd  (for  we  know  not  what  offence)  was  fined 
p^5,ooo,  sentenced  to  be  whipped  to  the  pillories 
of  Westminster  and  Cheapside,  to  be  branded  in 
the  face,  and  then  imprisoned  in  Newgate. 

To  return  to  our  historical  sequence.  In  13S8 
(Richard  II.)  it  was  ordered  that  every  person 
selling  fish  taken  east  of  London  Bridge  should 
sell  the  same  at  the  Cornhill  market;  while  all 
Thames  fish  caught  west  of  the  bridge  was  to  be 
sold  near  the  conduit  in  Chepe,  and  nowhere 
else,  under  pain  of  forfeiture  of  the  fish. 

The  eleventh  year  of  Richard  II.  brought  a  real 
improvement  to  the  growing  city,  for  certain  "  sub- 
stantial men  of  the  ward  of  Farringdon  Within" 
were  then  allowed  to  build  a  new  water-conduit 
near  the  church  of  St.  Michael  le  Quern,  in  West- 
chepe,  to  be  supplied  by  the  great  pipe  opposite 
St.  Thomas  of  Accon,  providing  the  great  conduit 
should  not  be  injured;  and  on  this  occasion  the 
Earl  of  Gloucester's  brokers'  cross  at  St.  Paul's  was 
removed. 

Early  in  the  reign  of  Henry  V.  complaints  were 
made  by  the  poor  that  the  brewers,  who  rented 
the  fountains  and  chief  upper  pipe  of  the  Cheapside 
conduit,  also  drew  from  the  smaller  pipe  below, 
and  the  brewers  were  warned  that  for  every  future 
offence  they  would  be  fined  6s.  8d.  In  the  fourth 
year  of  this  chivalrous  monarch  a  "hostiller"  named 
Benedict  Wolman,  under-marshal  of  the  Marshalsea, 
was  condemned  to  death  for  a  conspiracy  to  bring 
a  man  named  Thomas  Ward,  alias  Trumpington, 
from  Scotland,    to   pass   him   off  as  Richard   II. 


Cheapsidc] 


MOCESSION   OF  MARIE  DE    MEDICI. 


307 


<  < 

X 

■a 
O   ^ 


S.0 


li 

^  ft 


5o8 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


tCKcapslJe. 


Wolman  was  drawn  through  Cornhill  and  Cheap- 
side  to  the  gallows  at  Tyburn,  where  he  was 
"  hanged  and  beheaded." 

Lydgate,  that  dull  Suffolk  monk,  who  followed 
Chaucer,  though  at  a  great  distance,  has,  in  his 
ballad  of  "  Lackpenny,"  described  Chepe  in  the 
reign  of  Henry  VL     The  hero  of  the  poem  says — 

"  Then  to  the  Chepe  I  gan  me  drawn, 

Where  much  people  I  saw  for  to  stand  ; 
One  offered  me  velvet,  silk,  and  lawn  ; 
Another  he  taketh  me  by  the  hand, 
'Here  is  Paris  thread,  the  finest  in  the  land.' 
I  never  was  used  to  such  things  indeed. 
And,  wanting  money,  I  might  not  speed." 

In  1622  the  traders  of  the  Goldsmiths'  Company 
began  to  complain  that  alien  traders  were  creeping 
into  and  alloying  the  special  haunts  of  the  trade, 
Goldsmiths'  Row  and  Lombard  Street;  and  that 
183  foreign  goldsmiths  were  selling  counterfeit 
jewels,  engrossing  the  business  and  impoverishing 
its  members. 

City  improvements  were  carried  with  a  high 
hand  in  the  reign  of  Charles  L,  who,  determined  to 
clear  Cheapside  of  all  but  goldsmiths,  in  order  to 
make  the  eastern  approach  to  St.  Paul's  grander, 
committed  to  the  Fleet  some  of  the  alien  traders 
who  refused  to  leave  Cheapside.  This  unfortunate 
monarch  seems  to  have  carried  out  even  his  smaller 
measures  in  a  despotic  and  unjustifiable  manner,  as 
we  see  from  an  entry  in  the  State  Papers,  October 
2,  1634.  It  is  a  petition  of  William  Bankes,  a 
Cheapside  tavern-keeper,  and  deposes  : — 

"  Petition  of  William  Bankes  to  the  king. 
Not  fully  twelve  months  since,  petitioner  having 
obtained  a  license  under  the  Great  Seal  to  draw 
wine  and  vent  it  at  his  house  in  Cheapside,  and 
being  scarce  entered  into  his  trade,  it  pleased 
his  Majesty,  taking  into  consideration  the  great 
disorders  that  grew  by  the  numerous  taverns  within 
London,  to  stop  so  growing  an  evil  by  a  total 
suppression  of  victuallers  in  Cheapside,  &c.,  by 
which  petitioner  is  much  decayed  in  his  fortune. 
Beseeches  his  Majesty  to  grant  him  (he  not  being  of 
the  Company  of  Vintners  in  London,  but  authorised 
merely  by  his  Majesty)  leave  to  victual  and  retail 
meat,  it  being  a  thing  much  desired  by  noblemen 
and  gendemen  of  the  best  rank  and  others  (for 
the  which,  if  they  please,  they  may  also  contract 
beforehand,  as  the  custom  is  in  other  countries), 
f  there  being  no  other  place  fit  for  them  to  eat  in 
the  City." 

The  foolish  determination  to  make  Cheapside 
more  glittering  and  showy  seems  again  to  have 
struck  the  weak  despot,  and  an  order  of  the 
Council  (November  16)  goes  forth  that — "  Whereas 


in  Goldsmith's  Row,  in  Cheapside  and  Lombard 
Street,  divers  shops  are  held  by  persons  of  other 
trades,  whereby  that  uniform  show  which  was  an 
ornament  to  those  places  and  a  lustre  to  the  City 
is  now  greatly  diminished,"  all  the  shops  in  Gold- 
smith's Row  are  to  be  occupied  by  none  but 
goldsmiths ;  and  all  the  goldsmiths  who  keep  sho^js 
in  other  parts  of  the  City  are  to  resort  thither,  or 
to  Lombard  Street  or  Cheapside." 

The  next  year  we  find  a  tradesman  who  had  been 
expelled  from  Goldsmiths'  Row  praying  bitterly  to 
be  allowed  a  year  longer,  as  he  cannot  find  a 
residence,  the  removal  of  houses  in  Cheapside, 
Lombard  Street,  and  St.  Paul's  Churchyard  haviiv^ 
rendered  shops  scarce. 

In  1637  the  king  returns  again  to  the  charge, 
and  determines  to  carry  out  his  tyrannical  whim 
by  the  following  order  of  the  Council : — "  The 
Council  threaten  the  Lord  Mayor  and  aldermen 
with  imprisonment,  if  they  do  not  forthwith  enforce 
the  king's  command  that  all  shops  siiould  be  shut 
up  in  Cheapside  and  Lombard  Street  that  were  not 
goldsmiths*  shops."  The  Ceuncil  "had  learned 
that  there  were  still  twenty-four  houses  and  shops 
that  were  not  inhabited  by  goldsmiths,  but  in  some 
of  them  were  one  Grove  and  Widow  Hill,  sta- 
tioners ;  one  Sanders,  a  drugster ;  Medcalfe,  a 
cook  ;  Renatus  Edwards,  a  girdler ;  John  Dover,  a 
milliner ;  and  Brown,  a  bandseller." 

In  1664  we  discover  from  a  letter  of  the  Dutch 
ambassador,  Van  Goch,  to  the  States-General,  that 
a  great  fire  in  Cheapside,  "  the  principal  street  of 
the  City,"  had  burned  six  houses.  In  this  reign 
the  Cheapside  market  seems  to  have  given  great 
vexation  to  the  Cheapside  tradesmen.  In  1665 
there  is  a  State  Paper  to  this  effect : — 

"  The  inquest  of  Cheap,  Cripplegatc,  Cordwainer, 
Bread  Street,  and  Farringdon  Within  wards,  to  the 
Lord  Mayor  and  Court  of  Aldermen  of  London. 
In  spite  of  orders  to  the  contrary,  the  abuses  of 
Cheapside  Market  continue,  and  the  streets  are  so 
pestered  and  encroached  on  that  the  passages  are 
blocked  up  and  trade  decays.  Request  redress 
by  fining  those  Avho  allow  stalls  before  their  doors 
except  at  market  times,  or  by  appointing  special 
persons  to  see  to  the  matter,  and  disfranchise 
those  who  disobey ;  the  offenders  are  '  marvellous 
obstinate  and  refractory  to  all  good  orders,'  and 
not  to  be  dealt  with  by  common  law." 

Pepys,  in  his  inimitable  "  Diary,"  gives  us  two 
interesting  glimpses  of  Cheapside  —  one  of  the 
fermenting  times  immediately  preceding  the 
Restoration,  the  other  a  few  years  later — showing 
the  effervescing  spirit  of  the  London  'prentices  of 
Charles  II.'s  time  : — 


Cheapslde.] 


AN    INSURRECTION    IN    CHEAPSIDE. 


309 


**  1659. — Coir.ing  home,  heard  that  in  Cheap- 
side  there  had  been  but  a  Uttle  before  a  gibbet  set 
up,  and  the  picture  of  Huson  hung  upon  it  in  the 
middle  of  the  street.  (John  Hcvvson,  who  had  been 
a  shoemaker,  became  a  colonel  in  the  Parliament 
army,  and  sat  in  judgment  on  the  king.  He  escaped 
hanging  by  flight,  and  died  in  1662  at  Amsterdam.) 

"  1664, — So  home,  and  in  Cheapside,  both 
coming  and  going,  it  was  full  of  apprentices,  who 
have  been  here  all  this  day,  and  have  done  violence, 
I  think,  to  the  master  of  the  boys  that  were  put 
in  the  pillory  yesterday.  But  Lord !  to  see  how 
the  trained-bands  are  raised  upon  this,  the  drums 
beating  everywhere  as  if  an  enemy  were  upon 
them — so  much  is  this  city  subject  to  be  put  into 
a  disarray  upon  very  small  occasions.  But  it  was 
pleasant  to  hear  the  boys,  and  particularly  one 
very  little  one,  that  I  demanded  the  business  of. 
lie  told  me  that  that  had  never  been  done  in  the 
City  since  it  was  a  city — two  'prentices  put  in  the 
pillory,  and  that  it  ought  not  to  be  so." 

Cheapside  has  been  the  scene  of  two  great  riots, 
which  were  threatening  enough  to  render  them 
historically  important.  The  one  was  in  the  reign 
of  Richard  I.,  the  other  in  that  of  Henry  VIII. 
The  first  of  these,  a  violent  protest  against  Norman 
oppression,  was  no  doubt  fomented,  if  not  origi- 
nated, by  the  down-trodden  Saxons.  It  began 
thus  ; — On  the  return  of  Richard  from  his  captivity 
in  Germany,  and  before  his  fiery  retaliation  on 
France,  a  London  citizen  named  William  with  the 
Long  Beard  {alias  Fitzosbert,  a  deformed  man,  but 
of  great  courage  and  zeal  for  the  poor),  sought 
the  king,  and  appealing  to  his  better  nature,  laid 
before  him  a  detail  of  great  oppressions  and  out- 
rages wrought  by  the  Mayor  and  rich  aldermen 
of  the  city,  to  burden  the  humbler  citizens  and 
reUeve  themselves,  especially  at  "the  hoistings" 
when  any  taxes  or  tollage  were  to  be  levied.  Fitz- 
osbert, encouraged  at  gaining  the  king's  ear,  and 
hoping  too  much  from  the  generous  but  rapacious 
Norman  soldier,  grew  bolder,  openly  defended  the 
causes  of  oppressed  men,  and  thus  drew  round  him 
daily  great  crowds  of  the  poor. 

"  Many  gentlemen  of  honour,"  says  Holinshed, 
"sore  hated  him  for  his  presumptions  attempts  to 
the  hindering  of  their  purposes ;  but  he  had  such 
comfort  of  the  king  that  he  little  paused  for  their 
malice,  but  kept  on  his  intent,  till  the  king,  being 
advertised  of  the  assemblies  which  he  made,  com- 
manded him  to  cease  from  such  doings,  that  the 
people  might  fall  again  to  their  sciences  and  occu- 
pations, which  they  had  for  the  most  part  left  off 
at  the  instigation  of  this  William  with  the  Long 
Beard,  which  he  nourished   of  purpose,  to  seem 


the  more  graye  and  manlike,  and  also,  as  it  were, 
in  despite  of  them  which  counterfeited  the  Normans 
(that  were  for  the  most  part  shaven),  and  because 
he  would  resemble  the  ancient  usage  of  the  English 
nation.  The  king's  commandment  in  restraint  of 
people's  resort  unto  him  was  well  kept  for  a  time, 
but  it  was  not  long  before  they  began  to  follow  him 
again  as  they  had  done  before.  Then  he  took 
upon  him  to  make  unto  them  certain  speeches. 
By  these  and  such  persuasions  and  means  as  he 
used,  he  had  gotten  two  and  fifty  thousand  persons 
ready  to  have  taken  his  part." 

How  far  this  English  Rienzi  intended  to  obtain 
redress  by  force  we  cannot  clearly  discover  ;  but  he 
does  not  seem  to  have  been  a  man  who  would 
have  stopped  at  anything  to  obtain  justice  for  the 
oppressed — and  that  the  Normans  were  oppressors, 
till  they  became  real  Englishmen,  there  can  be  no 
doubt.  The  rich  citizens  and  the  Norman  nobles, 
who  had  clamped  the  City  fast  with  fortresses,  soon 
barred  out  Longbeard  from  the  king's  chamber. 
The  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  especially,  who  ruled 
the  City,  called  together  the  rich  citizens,  excited 
their  fears,  and  with  true  priestly  craft  persuaded 
them  to  give  sure  pledges  that  no  outbreak  should 
take  place,  although  he  denied  all  belief  in  the 
possibility  of  such  an  event.  The  citizens,  over- 
come by  his  oily  and  false  words,  willingly  gave 
their  pledges,  and  were  from  that  time  in  the  arch- 
bishop's power.  The  wily  prelate  then,  finding  the 
great  demagogue  was  still  followed  by  dangerous 
and  threatening  crowds,  appointed  two  burgesses 
and  other  spies  to  watch  Fitzosbert,  and,  when  it 
was  possible,  to  apprehend  him. 

These  men  at  a  convenient  time  set  upon  Fitz- 
osbert, to  bind  and  carry  him  off,  but  Longbeard 
was  a  hero  at  heart  and  full  of  ready  courage. 
Snatching  up  an  axe,  he  defended  himself  manfully, 
slew  one  of  the  archbishop's  emissaries,  and  flew 
at  once  for  sanctuary  into  the  Church  of  St.  Mary 
Bow.  Barring  the  doors  and  retreating  to  the 
tower,  he  and  some  trusty  friends  turned  it  into 
a  small  fortress,  till  at  last  his  enemies,  gathering 
thicker  round  him  and  setting  the  steeple  on  fire, 
forced  Longbeard  and  a  woman ,  whom  he  loved, 
and  who  had  followed  him  there,  into  the  open 
street. 

As  the  deserted  demagogue  was  dragged  forth 
through  the  fire  and  smoke,  still  loth  to  yield,  a 
son  of  the  burgess  whom  he  had  stricken  dead  ran 
forward  and  stabbed  him  in  the  side.  The  wounded 
man  was  quickly  overpowered,  for  the  citizens, 
afraid  to  forfeit  their  pledges,  did  not  come  to  his 
aid  as  he  had  expected,  and  he  was  hurried  to  the 
Tower,  where  the  expectant  archbishop  sat  ready 


:io 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheapsldo, 


to  condemn  him.  We  can  imagine  what  that 
drum-head  trial  would  be  like.  Longbeard  was  at 
once  condemned,  and  with  nine  of  his  adherents, 
scorched  and  smoking  from  the  fire,  was  sen- 
tenced to  be  hung  on  a  gibbet  at  the  Smithfield 
Elms.  For  all  this,  the  fermentation  did  not  soon 
subside ;  the  people  too  late  remembered  how 
Fitzosbert  had  pleaded  for  their  rights,  and  braved 
king,  prelate,  and  baron  ;  and  they  loudly  exclaimed 
against  the  archbishop  for  breaking  sanctuary,  and 
putting  to  death  a  man  who  had  only  defended 
himself  against  assassins,  and  was  innocent  of  other 
crimes.  The  love  for  the  dead  man,  indeed,  at 
last  rose  to  such  a  height  that  the  rumour  ran  that 
miracles  were  wrought  by  even  touching  the  chains 
by  which  he  had  been  bound  in  the  Tower.  He 
became  for  a  time  a  saint  to  the  poorer  and  more 
suffering  subjects  of  the  Normans,  and  the  place 
where  he  was  beheaded  in  Smithfield  was  visited 
as  a  spot  of  special  holiness. 

But  this  riot  of  Longbeard's  was  but  the  threaten- 
ing of  a  storm.  A  tempest  longer  and  more  terrible 
broke  over  Cheapside  on  **  Evil  May  Day,"  in  the 
reign  of  Henry  VHL  Its  origin  was  the  jealousy 
of  the  Lombards  and  other  foreign  money-lenders 
and  craftsmen  entertained  by  the  artisans  and 
'prentices  of  London.  Its  actual  cause  was  the 
seduction  of  a  citizen's  wife  by  a  Lombard  named 
Francis  de  Bard,  of  Lombard  Street.  The  loss  of 
the  wife  might  have  been  borne,  but  the  wife  took 
with  her,  at  the  ItaUan's  solicitation,  a  box  of  her 
husband's  plate.  The  husband  demanding  first  his 
wife  and  then  his  plate,  was  flatly  refused  both. 
The  injured  man  tried  the  case  at  the  Guildhall, 
but  was  foiled  by  the  intriguing  foreigner,  who  then 
had  the  incomparable  rascaUty  to  arrest  the  poor 
man  for  his  wife's  board. 

"  This  abuse,"  says  Holinshed,  "was  much  hated ; 
so  that  the  same  and  manie  other  oppressions  done 
by  the  Lombards  increased  such  a  malice  in  the 
Englishmen's  hearts,  that  at  the  last  it  burst  out. 
For  amongst  others  that  sore  grudged  these  matters 
was  a  broker  in  London,  called  John  Lincolne, 
that  busied  himself  so  farre  in  the  matter,  that 
about  Palme  Sundie,  in  the  eighth  yeare  of  the 
King's  reign,  he  came  to  one  Doctor  Henry 
Standish  with  these  words :  '  Sir,  I  understand  that 
you  shall  preach  at  the  Sanctuarie,  Spittle,  on 
Mondaie  in  Easter  Weeke,  and  so  it  is,  that  Eng- 
lishmen, both  merchants  and  others,  are  undowne, 
for  strangers  have  more  liberty  in  this  land  than 
Englishmen,  which  is  against  all  reason,  and  also 
against  the  commonweal  of  the  realm.  I  beseech 
you,  therefore,  to  declare  this  in  your  sermon,  and 
in  soe  doing  you  shall  deserve  great  thanks   of 


my  Lord  Maior  and  of  all  his  brethren  ;*  and  here- 
with he  offered  unto  the  said  Doctor  Standish  a 
bill  containing  this  matter  more  at  large.  .  .  Dr. 
Standish  refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with  the 
matter,  and  John  Lincolne  went  to  Dr.  Bell,  a 
chanon  of  the  same  Spittle,  that  was  appointed 
likewise  to  preach  upon  the  Tuesday  in  Easter 
Weeke,  whome  he  perswaded  to  read  his  said  bill 
in  the  pulpit." 

This  bill  complained  vehemently  ot  the  poverty 
of  London  artificers,  who  were  starving,  while  the 
foreigners  swarmed  everywhere ;  also  that  the  Eng- 
lish merchants  were  impoverished  by  foreigners, 
who  imported  all  silks,  cloth  of  gold,  wine,  and 
iron,  so  that  people  scarcely  cared  even  to  buy  of 
an  Englishman.  Moreover,  the  writer  declared  that 
foreigners  had  grown  so  numerous  that,  on  a  Sunday 
in  the  previous  T.ent,  he  had  seen  600  strangers 
shooting  together  at  the  popinjay.  He  also  in- 
sisted on  the  fact  of  the  foreigners  banding  in 
fraternities,  and  clubbing  together  so  large  a  fund, 
that  they  could  overpower  even  the  City  of  London. 

Lincoln  having  won  over  Dr.  Bell  to  read  the 
complaint,  went  round  and  told  every  one  he  knew 
that  shortly  they  would  have  news ;  and  excited 
the  'prentices  and  artificers  to  expect  some  speedy 
rising  against  the  foreign  merchants  and  workmen. 
In  due  time  the  sermon  was  preached,  and  Dr.  Bell 
drew  a  strong  picture  of  the  riches  and  indolence  of 
the  foreigners,  and  the  struggling  and  poverty  of 
English  craftsmen. 

The  train  was  ready,  and  on  such  occasions  the 
devil  is  never  far  away  with  the  spark.  The  Sun- 
day after  the  sermon,  Francis  de  Bard,  the  aforesaid 
Lombard,  and  other  foreign  merchants,  happened 
to  be  in  the  King's  Gallery  at  Greenwich  Palace, 
and  were  laughing  and  boasting  over  Bard's  in- 
trigue with  the  citizen's  wife.  Si'"  Thomas  Palmer, 
to  whom  they  spoke,  said,  "Sirs,  you  have  too 
much  favour  in  England;"  and  one  William  Bolt,  a 
merchant,  added,  "Well,  you  Lombards,  you  rejoice 
now ;  but,  by  the  masse,  we  will  one  day  have  a 
fling  at  you,  come  when  it  will."  And  that  saying 
the  other  merchants  affirmed.  This  tale  v/as  re^ 
ported  about  London. 

The  attack  soon  came.  "  On  the  28th  of  April, 
15 13,"  says  Holinshed,  "some  young  citizens  picked 
quarrels  with  the  strangers,  insulting  them  in  various 
ways,  in  the  streets ;  upon  which  certain  of  the  said 
citizens  were  sent  to  prison.  Then  suddenly  rose 
a  secret  rumour,  and  no  one  could  tell  how  it 
began,  that  on  May-day  next  the  City  would  rise 
against  the  foreigners,  and  slay  them;  insomuch 
that  several  of  the  strangers  fled  from  the  City. 
This    rymour    reached   the   King's   Councilj   and' 


Cheapside.] 


ANTI-FREE-TRADE  RIOTS   IN   CHEAPSIDE. 


311 


Cardinal  Wolsey  sent  for  the  Mayor,  to  ask  him 
what  he  knew  of  it ;  upon  which  the  Mayor  told 
him  that  peace  should  be  kept.  The  Cardinal 
told  him  to  take  pains  that  it  should  be.  The 
Mayor  came  from  the  Cardinal's  at  four  in  the 
afternoon  of  May-day  eve,  and  in  all  haste  sent 
for  his  brethren  to  the  Guildhall ;  yet  it  was  almost 
seven  before  they  met.  It  was  at  last  decided, 
with  the  consent  of  the  Cardinal,  that  instead  of  a 
strong  watch  being  set,  which  might  irritate,  all 
citizens  should  be  warned  to  keep  their  servants 
within  doors  on  the  dreaded  day.  The  Recorder 
and  Sir  Thomas  More,  of  the  King's  Privy  Council, 
came  to  the  Guildhall,  at  a  quarter  to  nine  p.m., 
and  desired  the  aldermen  to  send  to  every  ward, 
forbidding  citizen's  servants  to  go  out  from  seven 
p.m.  that  day  to  nine  a.m.  of  the  next  day. 

"  After  this  command  had  been  given,"  says  the 
chronicler,  "  in  the  evening,  as  Sir  John  Mundie 
(an  alderman)  came  from  his  ward,  and  found  two 
young  men  in  Chepe,  playing  at  the  bucklers,  and 
a  great  many  others  looking  on  (for  the  command 
was  then  scarce  known),  he  commanded  them  to 
leave  off;  and  when  one  of  them  asked  why,  he 
would  have  had  him  to  the  counter.  Then  all  the 
young  'prentices  resisted  the  alderman,  taking  the 
young  fellov/  from  him,  and  crying  '  'Prentices  and 
Clubs.'  Then  out  of  every  door  came  clubs  and 
weapons.  The  alderman  fled,  and  was  in  great 
danger.  Then  more  people  arose  out  of  every 
quarter,  and  forth  came  serving  men,  watermen, 
courtiers,  and  others ;  so  that  by  eleven  o'clock 
there  were  in  Chepe  six  or  seven  hundred ;  and 
out  of  Paul's  Churchyard  came  300,  which  knew 
not  of  the  other.  So  out  of  all  places  they 
gathered,  and  broke  up  the  counters,  and  took  out 
the  prisoners  that  the  Mayor  had  committed  for 
hurting  the  strangers ;  and  went  to  Newgate,  and 
took  out  Studleie  and  Petit,  committed  thither  for 
that  cause. 

**The  Mayor  and  Sheriff  made  proclamation, 
but  no  heed  was  paid  to  them.  Herewith  being 
gathered  in  plumps,  they  ran  through  St.  Nicholas* 
shambles,  and  at  St.  Martin's  Gate  there  met 
with  them  Sir  Thomas  More,  and  others,  desiring 
them  to  goe  to  their  lodgings ;  and  as  they  were 
thus  intreating,  and  had  almost  persuaded  the 
people  to  depart,  they  within  St.  Martin's  threw  out 
stones,  bats,  and  hot  water,  so  that  they  hurt  divers 
honest  persons  that  were  there  with  Sir  Thomas 
More ;  insomuch  as  at  length  one  Nicholas  Downes, 
a  sergeant  of  anns,  being  there  with  the  said  Sir 
Thomas  More,  and  sore  hurt  amongst  others,  cried 
'Down  with  them!'  and  then  all  the  misruled 
persons   ran   to   the   doors  and    windows   of   the 


houses  round  Saint  Martm's,  and  spoiled  all  that 
they  found. 

"After  that  they  ran  headlong  into  Cornhill, 
and  there  likewise  spoiled  divers  houses  of  the 
French  men  that  dwelled  within  the  gate  of  Master 
Newton's  house,  called  Queene  Gate.  This  Master 
Newton  was  a  Picard  borne,  and  reputed  to  be  a 
great  favourer  of  Frenchmen  in  their  occupiengs 
and  trades,  contrary  to  the  laws  of  the  Citie.  If 
the  people  had  found  him,  they  had  surelie  have 
stricken  off  his  head ;  but  when  they  found  him 
not,  the  watermen  and  certain  young  preests  that 
were  there,  fell  to  rifling,  and  some  ran  to  Blanch- 
apelton,  and  broke  up  the  strangers'  houses  and 
spoiled  them.  Thus  from  ten  or  eleven  of  the 
clock  these  riotous  people  continued  their  out- 
rageous doings,  till  about  three  of  the  clock,  at 
what  time  they  began  to  withdraw,  and  went  to 
their  places  of  resort ;  and  by  the  way  they  were 
taken  by  the  Maior  and  the  heads  of  the  Citie,  and 
sent  some  of  them  to  the  Tower,  some  to  Newgate, 
some  to  the  counters,  to  the  number  of  300. 

"  Manie  fled,  and  speciallie  the  watermen  and 
preests  and  serving  men,  but  the  'prentices  were 
caught  by  the  backs,  and  had  to  prison.  In  the 
meantime,  whilst  the  hottest  of  this  ruffling  lasted, 
the  Cardinall  was  advertised  thereof  by  Sir  Thomas 
Parre;  whereon  the  Cardinall  strengthened  his 
house  with  men  and  ordnance.  Sir  Thomas  Parre 
rode  in  all  haste  to  Richmond,  where  the  King  lay, 
and  informed  him  of  the  matter;  who  inconti- 
nentlie  sent  forth  hastilie  to  London,  to  understand 
the  state  of  the  Citie,  and  was  truely  advertised  how 
the  riot  had  ceased,  and  manie  of  the  misdoers 
apprehended.  The  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  Sir 
Roger  Cholmeleie  (no  great  friend  to  the  Citie),  in 
a  frantike  furie,  during  the  time  of  this  uprore,  shot 
off  certaine  pieces  of  ordinance  against  the  Citie, 
and  though  they  did  no  great  harm,  yet  he  won 
much  evil  will  for  his  hastie  doing,  because  men 
thought  he  did  it  of  malice,  rather  than  of  any 
discretion. 

"About  five  o'clock,  the  Earls  of  Shrewsbury 
and  Surrey,  Thomas  Dockerin,  Lord  of  Saint  John's 
George  Neville,  Lord  of  Abergavenny,  came  to 
London  with  such  force  as  they  could  gather  in 
haste,  and  so  did  the  Inncs  of  Court.  Then  were 
the  prisoners  examined,  and  the  sermon  of  Dr. 
Bell  brought  to  remembrance,  and  he  sent  to  the 
Tower.  Herewith  was  a  Commission  of  Oyer  and 
DeteiTniner,  directed  to  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  and 
other  lords,  to  the  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  and  the 
aldermen,  and  to  all  the  justices  of  England,  for  . 
punishment  of  this  insurrection.  (The  Citie  thought 
the  Duke  bare  them  a  grudge  for  a  lewd  preest  of 


312 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheapsldt. 


Cheapside.] 


PUNISHMENT  OF  THE  RIOTERS. 


3^3 


his  that  the  yeare  before  was  slaine  in  Chepe,  inso- 
much that  he  then,  in  his  fury,  said,  *  I  pray  God  I 
may  once  have  the  citizens  in  my  power !'  And 
hkewise  the  Duke  thought  that  they  bare  him  no 


good  will;  wherefore  he  came  into  the  Citie  with  J  whole  number  amounted  unto  two  hundred,  three 


prisoners  were  brought  through  the  street,  tied  in 
ropes,  some  men,  and  some  lads  of  thirteen  years 
of  age.  Among  them  were  divers  not  of  the  City, 
some  priests,  some  husbandmen  and  labourers.  The 


CHEAPSIDE   CROSS,    AS   IT   Al'PKARED   IN    IS47. 
{^Showing  part  of  the  Procession  of  Edward  VI.  to  his  Coronation,  from  a  Painting  of  the  Time,') 


thirteen  hundred  men,  in  harnesse,  to  keepe  the 
cier  and  determiner.) 

"  At  the  time  of  the  examination  the  streets  were 
filled  with  harnessed  men,  who  spake  very  oppro- 
brious words  to  the  citizens,  which  the  latter, 
although  two  hundred  to  one,  bore  patiently.  The 
inquiry  was  held  at  the  house  of  Sir  John  Fineux, 
Lord  Chief  Justice  of  England,  neare  to  St.  Bride's, 
in  Fleet  Street. 

*'  When  the  lords  were  met  at  the  Guildhall,  the 
27 


score,  and  eighteen  persons.  Eventually,  thirteen 
were  found  guilty,  and  adjudged  to  be  hanged, 
drawn,  and  quartered.  Eleven  pairs  of  gallows 
were  set  up  in  various  places  where  the  offences 
had  been  committed,  as  at  Aldgate,  Blanch- 
appleton,  Gratious  Street,  Leaden  Hall,  and  before 
every  Counter.  One  also  at  Newgate,  St,  Martin's, 
at  Aldersgate,  and  Bishopsgate.  Then  were  the 
prisoners  that  were  judged  brought  to  those  places 
of  execution,   and  executed  in  the  most  rigorous 


3^4 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheap^ide. 


manner  in  the  presence  of  the  Lord  Edward 
Howard,  son  to  the  Duke  of  Norfolke,  a  knight 
marshal,  who  showed  no  mercio,  but  extreme  crueltie 
to  the  poore  yonghngs  in  |heir  execution;  and 
likewise  the  duke's  servants  spake  many  oppro- 
brious words.  Oa  Thursday,  May  the  7  th,  was 
Lincohie,  Shinvin,  and  two  brethren  called  Bets, 
and  diverse  other  persons,  adjudged  to  die ;  and 
Lincolne  said,  *  My  lords,  I  meant  well,  for  if  you 
knew  the  mischiefe  that  is  insued  in  this  realme  by 
strangers,  you  would  remedie  it.  And  many  times 
I  have  complained,  and  then  I  was  called  a  busie 
fellow ;  now,  our  Lord  have  mercie  on  me  ! ' 
They  were  laid  on  hurdels  and  dra\vne  to  the 
Standard  in  Cheape,  and  first  was  John  Lincolne 
executed;  and  as  the  others  had  the  ropes  about 
their  neckes,  there  came  a  commandment  from  the 
king  to  respit  the  execution.  Then  the  people 
cried,  '  God  save  the  king ! '  and  so  was  the  oier 
and  terminer  deferred  till  another  daie,  and  the 
prisoners  sent  againe  to  ward.  The  armed  men 
departed  out  of  London,  and  all  things  set  in 
quiet. 

"On  the  nth  of  May,  the  king  being  at  Green- 
wich, the  Recorder  of  London  and  several  aldermen 
sought  his  presence  to  ask  pardon  for  the  late  riot, 
and  to  beg  for  mercy  for  the  prisoners ;  which 
petition  the  king  sternly  refused,  saying  that  although 
it  might  be  that  the  substantial  citizens  did  not 
actually  take  part  in  the  riot,  it  was.  evident,  from 
their  supineness  in  putting  it  down,  that  they 
*  winked  at  the  matter.' 

"  On  Thursday,  the  22nd  of  May,  the  king,  at- 
tended by  the  cardinal  and  many  great  lords,  sat 
in  person  in  judgment  in  Westminster  Hall,  the 
mayor,  aldermen,  and  all  the  chief  men  of  the 
City  being  present  in  their  best  livery.  The 
king  commanded  that  all  the  prisoners  should  be 
brought  forth,  so  that  in  came  the  poore  yonglings 
and  old  false  knaves,  bound  in  ropes,  all  along 
one  after  another  in  their  shirts,  and  everie  one  a 
halter  about  his  necke,  to  the  number  of  now  foure 
hundred  men  and  eleven  women ;  and  when  all 
were  come  before  the  king's  presence,  the  cardinall 
sore  laid  to  the  maior  and  commonaltie  their  negli- 
gence ;  and  to  the  prisoners  he  declared  that  they 
had  deserved  death  for  their  offense.  Then  all 
the  prisoners  together  cried,  '  Mercie,  gratious  lord, 
mercie  ! '  Herewith  the  lords  altogither  besought 
his  grace  of  mercie,  at  whose  sute  the  king  par- 
doned them  all.  Then  the  cardinal  gave  unto 
them  a  good  exhortation,  to  the  great  gladnesse  of 
the  hearers. 

"  Now  when  the  generall  pardon  was  pronounced 
nil  the  prisoners  shouted  at  once,   and  altogither 


cast  up  their  halters  into  the  hall  roofe,  so  that  the 
king  might  perceive  they  were  none  of  the  dis- 
creetest  sort.  Here  is  to  be  noticed  tliat  diverse 
offendors  that  were  not  taken,  hearing  that  the 
king  was  inclined  to  mercie,  came  well  apparelled 
to  Westminster,  and  suddenlie  stripped  them  into 
their  shirts  with  halters,  and  came  in  among  the 
prisoners,  willinglie  to  be  partakers  of  the  king's 
pardon ;  by  which  dooing  it  was  well  known  that 
one  John  Gelson,  yeoman  of  the  Crowne,  was  the 
first  that  began  to  spoile,  and  exhorted  others  to 
doe  the  same  ;  and  because  he  fled  and  was  not 
taken,  he  came  in  with  a  rope  among  the  other 
prisoners,  and  so  had  his  pardon.  This  companie 
was  after  called  the  '  black-wagon.'  Then  were  all 
the  gallows  within  the  Citie  taken  downe,  and 
many  a  good  prayer  said  for  the  king." 

Jane  Shore,  that  beautiful  but  frail  woman,  who 
married  a  goldsmith  in  Lombard  Street,  and  v.'as 
the  mistress  of  Edward  IV.,  was  the  daughter  of 
a  merchant  in  Cheapside.  Drayton  describes  hei' 
minutely  from  a  picture  extant  in  Elizabeth's  time, 
but  now  lost. 

"  Her  stature,"  says  the  poet,  "  was  meane ;  her 
haire  of  a  dark  yellow;  her  face  round  and  full; 
her  eye  gray,  delicate  harmony  being  between  each 
part's  proportion  and  each  proportion's  colour ; 
her  body  fat,  white,  and  smooth ;  her  countenance 
cheerful,  and  like  to  her  condition.  The  picture  I 
have  seen  of  her  was  such  as  she  rose  out  of  her 
bed  in  the  morning,  having  nothing  on  but  a  ricli 
mantle  cast  under  one  arme  over  her  shoulder,  and 
sitting  on  a  chair  on  which  her  naked  arm  did  lie. 
Shore,  a  young  man  of  right  goodly  person,  wealth,' 
and  behaviour,  abandoned  her  after  the  king  had 
made  her  his  concubine.  Richard  III.,  causing 
her  to  do  open  penance  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard, 
commanded  that  no  man  should  relime  her,  which 
the  tyrant  did  not  so  much  for  his  hatred  to  sinne, 
but  that,  by  making  his  brother's  life  odious,  he 
might  cover  his  horrible  treasons  the  more  cun- 
ningly." 

An  old  ballad  quaintly  describes  her  supposed 
death,  following  an  entirely  erroneous  tradition  : — 

"  My  gowns,  beset  with  pearl  and  gold, 
Were  turn'd  to  simple  garments  old  ; 
My  chains  and  gems,  and  golden  rings, 
To  filthy  rags  and  loathsome  things.. 

"  Thus  was  I  scorned  of  maid  and  wife, 
For  leading  such  a  wicked  life  ; 
Both  sucking  babes  and  children  small, 
Did  make  their  pastime  at  my  fall. 

*'  I  could  not  get  one  bit  of  bread. 
Whereby  my  hunger  might  be  fed, 
Nor  drink,  but  such  as  channels  yield, 
Or  stinkin"  ditches  in  the  field. 


Cheapside.] 


PAGEANTS    IN    CHEAPSIDE. 


315 


"  Thus  weary  of  my  life,  at  lengthe 
I  yielded  up  my  vital  strength, 
Within  a  ditch  of  loathsome  scent, 
Where  carrion  dogs  did  much  frequent ; 

"  The  which  now,  since  my  dying  daye, 
Is  Shoreditch  call'd,  as  writers  saye  ;* 
Which  is  a  witness  of  my  sinne, 
For  being  concubine  to  a  king." 

Sir  Thomas  More,  however,  distinctly  mentions 
Jane  Shore  being  aHve  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII., 
and  seems  to  imply  that  he  had  himself  seen  her. 
"He (Richard  III.)  caused,"  says  More,  "the  Bishop 
of  London  to  put  her  to  an  open  penance,  going 
before  the  cross  in  procession  upon  a  Sunday,  with 
a  taper  in  her  hand ;  in  which  she  went  in  coun- 
tenance and  face  demure,  so  womanly,  and  albeit 
she  were  out  of  all  array  save  her  kirtle  only,  yet 
went  she  so  fair  and  lovely,  namely  while  the 
wondering  of  the  people  cast  a  comely  red  in  her 
cheeks  (of  which  she  before  had  most  miss),  that 
her  great  shame  was  her  much  praise  among  those 
who  were  more  amorous  of  her  body  than  curious 
of  her  soul ;  and  many  good  folk,  also,  who  hated 
her  living,  and  were  glad   to  sec    sin   corrected. 


yet  pitied  they  more  her  penance  than  rejoiced 
therein,  when  they  considered  that  the  Protector 
procured  it  more  of  a  corrupt  intent  than  any 
virtuous  intention. 

"  Proper  she  was,  and  fair ;  nothing  in  her  body 
that  you  would  have  changed,  but  if  you  would, 
have  wished  her  somewhat  higher.  Thus  say  they 
who  knew  her  in  her  youth ;  albeit  some  who  now 
see  her  (for  yet  she  liveth)  deem  her  never  to 
have  been  well-visaged ;  whose  judgment  seemeth 
to  me  to  be  somewhat  like  as  though  men  should 
guess  the  beauty  of  one  long  departed  by  her  scalp 
taken  out  of  the  charnel-house.  For  now  is  she 
old,  lean,  withered,  and  dried  up — nothing  left  but 
shrivelled  skin  and  hard  bone.  And  yet,  being 
even  such,  whoso  well  advise  her  visage,  might 
guess  and  devine  which  parts,  how  filled,  would 
make  it  a  fair  face. 

"  Yet  delighted  men  not  so  much  in  her  beauty 
as  in  her  pleasant  behaviour.  For  a  proper  wit 
had  she,  and  could  both  read  well  and  write,  merry 
in  company,  ready  and  quick  of  answer,  neither 
mute  nor  full  of  babble,  sometimes  taunting  with- 
out displeasure,  and  not  without  disport." 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 
cheapsidp:  shows  and  pageants, 

A  Tournament  in  Cheapside — The  Queen  in  Danger — The  Street  in  Holiday  Attire — The  Earliest  Civic  Show  on  record — The  Water  Processions— 
A  Lord  Mayor's  Show  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  Reign — Gossip  about  Lord  Mayors'  Shows — Splendid  Pageants — Royal  Visitors  at  Lord 
Mayor's  Shows — A  Grand  Banquet  in  Guildhall— George  IIL  and  the  Lord  Mayor's  Show — The  Lord  Mayor's  State  Coach — The  Men  in 
Armour— Sir  Claudius  Hunter  and  EUiston — Stow  and  the  Midsummer  Watch. 


We  do  not  hear  much  in  the  old  chronicles  of 
tournaments  and  shivered  spears  in  Cheapside, 
but  of  gorgeous  pageants  much.  On  coronation 
days,  and  days  when  our  kings  rode  from  the 
Tower  to  Westminster,  or  from  Castle  Baynard 
eastward,  Cheapside  blossomed  at  once  with  flags 
and  banners,  rich  tapestry  hung  from  every  window, 
and  the  very  gutters  ran  with  wine,  so  loyal  and 
generous  were  the  -citizens  of  those  early  days. 
Costume  was  bright  and  splendid  in  the  Middle 
Ages,  and  heraldry  kept  alive  the  habit  of  con- 
trasting and  mingling  colours.  Citizens  were 
wealthy,  and,  moreover,  lavish  of  their  wealth. 

In  these  processions  and  pageants,  Cheapside  was 
always  the  very  centre  of  the  show.  There  velvets 
and  silks  trailed ;  there  jewels  shone ;  there  spear- 
heads and  axe-heads  glittered;  there  breastplates 
and  steel  caps  gleamed;  there  proud  horses  fretted; 

*  But  it  had  this  name  long  before,  being  so  called  from 
its  being  a  common  sewer  (vulgarly  called  sAore)  or  drain. 
(jSee  Stow.) 


there  bells  clashed ;  there  the  mob  clamoured ; 
there  proud,  warUke,  and  beautiful  face^  showed, 
uncapped  and  unveiled,  to  the  seething,  jostling 
people ;  .and  there  mayor  and  aldermen  grew 
hottest,  bowed  most,  and  puflfed  out  with  fullest 
dignity. 

In  order  to  celebrate  the  birth  of  the  heir  of 
England  (the  Black  Prince,  1330),  a  great  tourna- 
ment was  proclaimed  in  London.  Philippa  and  all 
the  female  nobility  were  invited  to  be  present. 
Thirteen  knights  were  engaged  on  each  side,  and 
the  tournament  was  held  in  Cheapside,  between 
Wood  Street  and  Queen  Street ;  the  highway  was 
covered  with  sand,  to  prevent  the  horses'  feet  from 
slipping,  and  a  grand  temporary  wooden  tower  was 
erected,  for  the  accommodation  of  the  Queen  and 
her  ladies.  But  scarcely  had  this  fair  company 
entered  the  tower,  when  the  scaffolding  suddenly 
gave  way,  and  all  present  fell  to  the  ground  with 
the  Queen.  Though  no  one  was  injured,  all  were 
terribly  frightened,  and  great   confusion   ensued. 


3i6 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Cheapside. 


When  the  young  king  saw  the  peril  of  his  wife,  he 
flew  into  a  tempest  of  rage,  and  vowed  that  the 
careless  carpenters  who  had  constructed  the  build- 
ing should  instantly  be  put  to  death.  Whether  he 
would  thus  far  have  stretched  the  prerogative  of  an 
English  sovereign  can  never  be  knowi  (says  Miss 
Strickland),  for  his  angelic  partner,  scarcely  re- 
covered from  the  terror  of  her  fall,  threw  herself 
on  her  knees  before  the  incensed  king,  and  so 
'  effectually  pleaded  for  the  pardon  of  the  poor  men, 
that  Edward  became  pacified,  and  forgave  them. 

When  the  young  princess,  Anne  of  Bohemia,  the 
first  wife  of  the  royal  prodigal,  Richard  II,,  entered 
London,  a  castle  with  towers  was  erected  at  the 
upper  end  of  Cheapside.  On  the  wooden  battle- 
ments stood  fair  maidens,  who  blew  gold  leaf 
on  the  King,  Queen,  and  retinue,  so  that  the  air 
seemed  filled  with  golden  butterflies.  This  pretty 
device  was  much  admired.  The  maidens  also 
threw  showers  of  counterfeit  gold  coins  before  the 
horses'  feet  of  the  royal  cavalcade,  while  the  two 
sides  of  the  tower  ran  fountains  of  red  wine. 

On  the  great  occasion  when  this  same  Anne,  who 
had  by  this  time  supped  full  of  troubles,  and  by 
whose  entreaties  the  proud,  reckless  young  king, 
who  had,  as  it  were,  excommunicated  the  City  and 
now  forgave  it,  came  again  into  Chepe,  red  and 
white  wine  poured  in  fountains  from  a  tower  oppo- 
site the  Great  Conduit.  The  King  and  Queen  were 
served  from  golden  cups,  and  at  the  same  place 
an  angel  flew  down  in  a  cloud,  and  presented  costly 
golden  circlets  to  Richard  and  his  young  wife. 

Two  days  before  the  opening  of  Parliament,  in 
1423,  Katherine  of  Valois,  widow  of  Henry  V., 
entered  the  city  in  a  chair  of  state,  with  her  child 
sitting  on  her  knee.  When  they  arrived  at  the  west 
door  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  the  Duke  Protector 
lifted  the  infant  king  from  his  chair  and  set  him 
on  his  feet,  and,  with  the  Duke  of  Exeter,  led  him 
between  them  up  the  stairs  going  into  the  choir; 
then,  having  knelt  at  the  altar  for  a  time,  the  child 
was  borne  into  the  churchyard,  there  set  upon  a 
fair  courser,  and  so  conveyed  through  Cheapside 
to  his  own  manor  of  Kennington. 

Time  went  on,  and  the  weak  young  king  married 
the  fair  amazon  of  France,  the  revengeful  and 
resolute  Margaret  of  Anjou.  At  the  marriage 
pageant  maidens  acted,  at  the  Cheapside  conduit, 
a  play  representing  the  five  wise  and  five  foolish 
virgins.  Years  after,  the  corpse  of  the  same  king 
passed  along  the  same  street ;  but  no  huzzas,  ho 
rejoicing  now.  It  was  on  the  day  after  the  restora- 
tion of  Edward  IV,,  when  people  dared  not  speak 
above  a  breath  of  what  might  be  happening  in  the 
Tower,  that  the  corpse  of  Henry  VI.  was  borne  ( 


through  Cheapside  to  St.  Paul's,  barefaced,  on  a  bier, 
so  that  all  might  see  it,  though  it  was  surrounded 
by  more  brown  bills  and  glaives  than  torches, 

By-and-by,  after  the  fierce  retribution  of  Bos- 
worth,  came  the  Tudors,  culminating  and  ending 
with  Elizabeth.  " 

As  Elizabeth  of  York  (Henry  VII.'s  consort) 
went  from  the  Tower  to  Westminster  to  be 
cro\vned,  the  citizens  hung  velvets  and  cloth  of 
gold  from  the  windows  in  Chepe,  and  stationed 
children,  dressed  like  angels,  to  sing  praises  to  the 
Queen  as  she  passed  by.  When  the  Queen's  corpse 
was  conveyed  from  the  Tower,  where  she  died,  in 
Cheapside  were  stationed  thirty-seven  virgins,  the 
number  corresponding  with  the  Queen's  age,  all 
dressed  in  white,  wearing  chaplets  of  white  and 
green,  and  bearing  lighted  tapers. 

As  Anne  Boleyn,  during  her  short  felicity,  pro- 
ceeded from  the  Tower  to  Westminster,  on  the  eve 
of  her  coronation,  the  conduit  of  Cheapside  ran, 
at  one  end  white  wine,  and  at  the  other  red.  At 
Cheapside  Cross  stood  all  the  aldermen,  from 
amongst  whom  advanced  Master  Walter,  the  City 
Recorder,  who  presented  the  Queen  with  a  purse, 
containing  a  thousand  marks  of  gold,  which  she 
very  thankfully  accepted,  with  many  goodly  words. 
At  the  Little  Conduit  of  Cheapside  was  a  rich 
pageant,  full  of  melody  and  song,  where  Pallas, 
Venus,  and  Juno  gave  the  Queen  an  apple  of  gold, 
divided  into  three  compartments,  typifying  wisdom, 
riches,  and  felicity. 

When  Queen  Elizabeth,  young,  happy  and  regal, 
proceeded  through  the  City  the  day  before  her 
coronation,  as  she  passed  through  Cheapside,  slie 
smiled;  and  being  asked  the  reason,  she  replied, 
"  Because  I  have  just  heard  one  say  in  the  crowd, 
'  I  remember  old  King  Harry  the  Eighth.' "  When 
she  came  to  the  grand  allegory  of  Time  and  Truth, 
at  the  Little  Conduit,  in  Cheapside,  she  asked, 
who  an  old  man  was  that  sat  with  his  scythe  and 
hour-glass.  She  was  told  "Time,"  "Time?"  she 
repeated  ;  "  and  Time  has  brought  me  here  ! " 

In  this  i^ageant  she  spied  that  Truth  held  a 
Bible,  in  EngUsh,  ready  for  presentation  to  her; 
and  she  bade  Sir  John  Perrot  (the  knight  nearest 
to  her,  who  held  up  her  canopy,  and  a  kinsman, 
afterwards  beheaded)  to  step  forward  and  receive  it 
for  her;  but  she  was  informed  such  was  not  the 
regular  manner  of  presentation,  for  it  was  to  be 
let  down  into  her  chariot  by  a  silken  string.  She 
therefore  told  Sir  John  Perrot  to  stay;  and  at  the 
proper  crisis,  some  verses  being  recited  by  Truth, 
the  book  descended,"  and  the  Queen  received  it  in 
both  her  hands,  kissed  it,  clasped  it  to  her  bosom, 
and  thanked  the  City  for  this  present,,  esteemed 


Cheapside.j 


HOLIDAY  BY  LAND  AND  WATER. 


317 


above  all  others.  She  promised  to  read  it  diligently, 
to  the  great  comfort  of  the  bystanders."  All  the 
liouses  in  Cheapside  were  dressed  with  banners 
and  streamers,  and  the  richest  carpets,  stuffs,  and 
cloth  of  gold  tapestried  the  streets.  At  the  upper 
end  of  Chepe,  the  Recorder  presented  the  Queen 
from  the  City,  with  a  handsome  crimson  satin  purse 
containing  a  thousand  marks  in  gold,  which  she 
most  graciously  pocketed.  There  were  trumpeters 
at  the  Standard  in  Chepe,  and  the  City  waits  stood 
at  the  porch  of  St.  Peter's,  Comhill.  The  City 
companies  stretched  in  rows  from  Fenchurch 
Street  to  the  Little  Conduit  in  Chepe,  behind  rails, 
which  were  hung  with  cloth. 

On  an  occasion  when  James  I.  and  his  wife  visited 
the  City,  at  the  Conduit,  Cheapside,  there  was  a 
grand  display  of  tapestry,  gold  cloth,  and  silks ;  and 
before  the  structure  "a  handsome  apprentice  wa*s 
appointed,  whose  part  it  was  to  walk  backwards 
and  forwards,  as  if  outside  a  shop,  in  his  flat  cap 
and  usual  dress,  addressing  the  passengers  with  his 
usual  cry  for  custom  of,  '  What  d'ye  lack,  gentles  ? 
What  will  you  buy?  silks,  satins,  or  taff — taf — 
fetas?'    He  then  broke  into  premeditated  verse  : — 

"  '  But  stay,  bold  tongue  !  I  stand  at  giddy  gaze  ! 

Be  dmi,  mine  eyes  1     What  gallant  train  are  here, 
That  strikes  minds  mute,  puts  good  wits  in  a  maze  ? 

Oh  !  'tis  our  King,  royal  King  James,  I  say  ! 
Pass  on  in  jieace,  and  happy  be  thy  way  ; 
Live  long  on  earth,  and  England's  sceptre  sway,' "  &c. 

Henrietta  Maria,  that  pretty,  wilful  queen  of 
Charles  I.,  accompanied  by  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham and  Bassompierre,  the  French  'ambassador, 
went  to  what  the  latter  calls  Shipstde,  to  view  the 
Lord  Mayor's  procession.  She  also  came  to  a 
masquerade  at  the  Temple,  in  the  costume  of  a  City 
lady.  Mistress  Bassett,  the  great  lace-woman  of 
Cheapside,  went  foremost  of  the  Court  party  at  the 
Temple  carnival,  and  led  the  Queen  by  the  hand. 

But  what  are  royal  processions  to  the  Lord 
Mayor's  Show  ? 

The  earliest  civic  show  on  record,  writes  Mr. 
Fairholt,  who  made  a  specialty  of  this  subject, 
took  place  in  1236,  on  the  passage  of  Henry  HI. 
and  Eleanor  of  Provence  through  the  City  to 
Westminster.  They  were  escorted  by  the  mayor, 
aldermen,  and  360  mounted  citizens,  apparelled  in 
robes  of  embroidered  silk,  and  each  carrying  in 
their  hands  a  cup  of  gold  or  silver,  in  token  of  the 
privilege  claimed  by  the  City  for  the  lord  mayor 
to  ofiiciate  as  chief  butler  at  the  king's  coronation. 
Oil  the  return  of  Edward  I.  from  the  Holy  Land 
the  citizens,  in  the  wildness  of  their  loyalty,  threw, 
it  is  said,  handfuls  of  gold  and  silver  out  of  window 
to  the  crovv^d.     It  was  on  the  return  of  the  same 


king  from  his  Scotch  victories  that  the  earliest 
known  City  pageant  took  place.  Each  guild  had 
its  show.  The  Fishmongers  had  gilt  salmon  and 
sturgeon,  drawn  by  eight  horses,  and  six-and-forty 
knights  riding  sea-horses,  followed  by  St.  Magnus 
(it  was  St.  Magnus'  day),  with  1,000  horsemen. 

Mr.  Fairholt  proved  from  papers  still  preserved 
by  the  Grocers'  Company  that  water  processions 
took  place  at  least  nineteen  years  earlier  than  the 
usual  date  {1453)  set  down  for  their  commence- 
ment. Sir  John  Norman  is  mentioned  by  the 
City  poet  as  the  first  Lord  Mayor  that  rowed  to 
Westminster.  He  had  silver  oars,  and  so  delighted 
the  London  watermen  that  they  wrote  a  ballad 
about  him,  of  which  two  lines  only  still  exist — 

"  Row  thy  boat,  Norman, 
Row  to  thy  leman. " 

In  the  troublous  reign  of  Henry  VI.  the  Gold- 
smiths made  a  special  stand  for  their  privileges  on 
Lord  Mayor's  day.  They  complained  loudly  that 
they  had  always  ridden  with  the  mayor  to  West- 
minster and  back,  and  that  on  their  return  to  Chepe 
they  sit  on  horseback  "  above  the  Cross  afore  the 
Goldsmiths'  Row  ;  but  that  on  the  morrow  of-  the 
Apostles  Simon  and  Jude,  when  they  came  to  their 
stations,  they  found  the  Butchers  had  forestalled 
them,  who  would  not  budge  for  all  the  prayers  of 
the  wardens  of  the  Goldsmiths,  and  hence  had 
arisen  great  variance  and  strife."  The  two  guilds 
submitted  to  the  Lord  Mayor's  arbitration,  where- 
upon the  Mayor  ruled  that  the  Goldsmiths  should 
retain  possession  of  their  ancient  stand. 

The  first  Lord  Mayor's  pageant  described  by  the 
old  chroniclers  is  that  when  Anne  Boleyn  "  came 
from  Greenwich  to  Westminster  on  her  coronation 
day,  and  the  Mayor  went  to  serve  her  as  chief 
butler,  according  to  ancient  custom."  Hall  expressly 
says  that  the  water  procession  on  that  occasion  re- 
sembled that  of  Lord  Mayor's  Day.  The  Mayor's 
barge,  covered  with  red  cloth  (blue  except  at  royal 
ceremonies),  was  garnished  Avith  goodly  banners 
and  streamers,  and  the  sides  hung  with  emblazoned 
targets.  In  the  barge  were  "shalms,  shagbushes, 
and  divers  other  instruments,  which  continually 
made  goodly  harmony."  Fifty  barges,  filled  with 
the  various  companies,  followed,  marshalled  and 
kept  in  order  by  three  light  wherries  with  ofiicers. 
Before  the  Mayor's  barge  came  another  barge, 
full  of  ordnance  and  containing  a  huge  dragon 
(emblematic  of  the  Rouge  Dragon  in  the  Tudor 
arms),  which  vomited  wild  fire ;  and  round  about 
it  stood  terrible  monsters  and  savages,  also  vomit- 
ing fire,  discharging  squibs,  and  making  "hideous 
noises."     By  the  side  of  the  Mayor's  barge  was 


3i8 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheapside. 


the  bachelors'  barge,  in  which  were  trumpeters  and 
other  musicians.  The  decks  of  the  Mayor's  barge, 
and  the  sail-yards,  and  top-castles  were  hung  with 
flags  and  rich  cloth  of  gold  and  silver.  At  the 
head  and  stern  were  two  great  banners,  with  the 
royal  arms  in   beaten    gold.       The   sides  of  the 


and  about  the  mount  sat  virgins,  "  singing  and 
playing  sweetly."  The  Mayor's  company,  the 
Haberdashers,  came  first,  then  the  Mercers,  then 
the  Grocers,  and  so  on,  the  barges  being  garnished 
with  banners  and  hung  with  arras  and  rich  carpets. 
In  1566-7   the  water  procession  was  very  costly, 


THE  LORD  mayor's  PROCESSION.     {From  Ilo^arUCs  " Industrious  Appicntiic:'')     {Sec  pa^e  t,2t,.) 


barge  were  hung  with  flags  and  banners  of  the 
Haberdashers'  and  Merchant  Adventu  rs'  Com- 
panies (the  Lord  Mayor,  Sir  Stephen  Peacock, 
was  a  haberdasher).  On  the  outside  of  the  barge 
shone  three  dozen  illuminated  royal  escutcheons. 
On  the  left  hand  of  this  barge  came  another  boat, 
in  which  was  a  pageant.  A  white  falcon,  crowned, 
stood  upon  a  mount,  on  a  golden  rock,  environed 
with  white  and  red  roses  (Anne  Boleyn's  device), 


and  seven  hundred  pounds  of  gunpowder  were 
burned.  This  is  the  first  show  of  which  a  detailed 
account  exists,  and  it  is  to  be  found  recorded  in 
the  books  of  the  Ironmongers'  Company. 

A  curious  and  exact  description  of  a  Lord 
Mayor's  procession  in  Elizabeth's  reign,  written 
by  William  Smith,  a  London  haberdasher  in  1575, 
is  still  extant.  The  day  after  Simon  and  Jude 
the  Mayor  went  by  water  to  Westminster,  attended 


Cheapside.  ] 


PROCESSION   OF  ANNE   BOLEYN   IN   CHEAPSIDE. 


319 


32d 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


tCheapsiili, 


by  the  barges  of  all  the  companies,  duly  marshalled 
and  hung  with  emblazoned  shields.  On  their 
return  they  landed  at  Paul's  Wharf,  where  they 
took  horse,  "  and  in  great  pomp  passed  through  the 
great  street  of  the  city  called  Cheapside."  The 
road  was  cleared  by  beadles  and  men  dressed  as 
devils,  and  wild  men,  whose  clubs  discharged  squibs. 
First  came  two  great  standards,  bearing  the  arms 
of  the  City  and  of  the  Lord  Mayor's  company ; 
then  two  drums,  a  flute,  and  an  ensign  of  the  City, 
followed  by  seventy  or  eighty  poor  men,  two  by  two, 
in  blue  gowns  with  red  sleeves,  each  one  bearing 
a  pike  and  a  target,  with  the  arms  of  the  Lord 
Mayor's  company.  These  were  succeeded  by  two 
more  banners,  a  set  of  hautboys  playing;  after 
these  came  wyfflers,  or  clearers  of  the  way,  in 
velvet  coats  and  gold  chains,  and  with  white  staves 
in  their  hands.  After  the  pageant  itself  paced  six- 
teen trumpeters,  more  wyfflers  to  clear  the  way, 
and  after  them  the  bachelors — sixty,  eighty,  or  one 
hundred — of  the  Lord  Mayor's  company,  in  long 
gowns,  with  crimson  satin  hoods.  These  bachelors 
were  to  wait  on  the  Mayor.  Then  followed  twelve 
more  trumpeters  and  the  drums  and  flutes  of 
the  City,  an  ensign  of  the  Mayor's  company,  the 
City  waits  in  blue  gowns,  red  sleeves,  and  silver 
chains ;  then  the  honourable  livery,  in  long  robes, 
each  with  his  hood,  half  black,  half  red,  on  his  left 
shoulder.  After  them  came  sheriffs'  oflicers  and 
Mayor's  officers,  the  common  serjeant,  and  the 
chamberlain.  Before  the  Mayor  went  the  sword- 
bearer  in  his  cap  of  honour,  the  sword,  in  a  sheath 
set  with  pearls,  in  his  right  hand ;  while  on  his  left 
came  the  common  cryer,  with  the  great  gilt  club 
and  a  mace  on  his  shoulder.  The  Mayor  wore 
a  long  scarlet  gown,  with  black  velvet  hood  and 
rich  gold  collar  about  his  neck ;  and  with  him  rode 
that  fallen  dignitary,  the  ex-Mayor.  Then  followed 
all  the  aldermen,  in  scarlet  gowns  and  black  velvet 
tippets,  those  that  had  been  mayors  wearing  gold 
chains.  The  two  sheriffs  came  last  of  all,  in 
scarlet  gowns  and  gold  chains.  About  one  thou- 
sand persons  sat  down  to  dinner  at  Guildhall — a 
feast  which  cost  the  Mayor  and  the  two  sheriffs 
;^4oo,  whereof  the  Mayor  disbursed  ^200.  Im- 
mediately after  dinner  they  went  to  evening 
prayer  at  St.  Paul's,  the  poor  men  aforementioned 
carrying  torches  and  targets.  The  dinner  still 
continues  to  be  eaten,  but  the  service  at  St.  Paul's, 
as  interfering  with  digestion,  was  abandoned  after 
the  Great  Fire.  In  the  evening  farewell  speeches 
were  made  to  the  Lord  Mayor  by  allegorical  per- 
sonages, and  painted  posts  were  set  up  at  his  door. 
One  of  the  most  gorgeous  Lord  Mayor's  shows 
was  that  of  1616  (James  I.)  devised  by  Anthony 


Munday,  one  of  the  great  band  of  Shakesperean 
dramatists,  who  )^TOte  plays  in  partnership  with 
Drayton.  The  drawings  for  the  pageant  are  still  in 
the  possession  of  the  Fishmongers'  Company.  Tlie 
new  mayor  was  John  Leman,  a  member  of  that 
body  (knighted  during  his  mayoralty).  The  first 
pageant  represented  a  buss,  or  Dutch  fishing-boat, 
on  wheels.  The  fishermen  in  it  were  busy  drawing 
up  nets  full  of  live  fish  and  tlirowing  them  to  the 
people.  On  the  mast  and  at  the  head  of  the  boat 
were  the  insignia  of  the  company — St.  Peter's  keys 
and  two  arms  supporting  a  crown.  The  second 
pageant  was  a  gigantic  crowned  dolphin,  ridden 
by  Arion.  The  third  pageant  was  the  king  of  the 
Moors  riding  on  a  golden  leopard,  and  scattering 
gold  and  silver  freely  round  him.  .HeAvas  attended 
by  six  tributaiy  kings  in  gilt  armour  on  horseback, 
each  carrying  a  dart  and  gold  and  silver  ingots. 
This  pageant  was  in  honour  of  the  Fishmongers' 
brethren, the  Goldsmiths.  The  fourth  pageant  was 
the  usual  pictorial  pun  on  the  Lord  Mayor's  name 
and  crest.  The  car  bore  a  large  lemon-tree  full  of 
golden  fruit,  witli  a  pelican  in  her  nest  feeding  her 
young  (proper).  At  the  top  of  the  tree  sat  five 
children,  representing  the  five  senses.  The  boys 
were  dressed  as  women,  each  with  her  emblem — 
Seeing,  by  an  eagle ;  Hearing,  by  a  hart ;  Touch, 
by  a  spider ;  Tasting,  by  an  ape ;  and  Smelling,  by 
a  dog.  The  fifth  pageant  was  Sir  AVilliam  Wal- 
worth's bower,  which  was  hung  with  the  shields  of 
all  lord  mayors  who  had  been  Fishmongers.  Upon 
a  tomb  Avithin  the  bower  was  laid  the  effigy  in 
knightly  armour  of  Sir  William,  the  slayer  of  Wat 
Tyler.  Five  mounted  knights  attended  the  car, 
and  a  mounted  man-at-arms  bore  Wat  Tyler's 
head  upon  a  dagger.  In  attendance  were  six 
trumpeters  and  twenty-four  halberdiers,  arrayed  in 
light  blue  silk,  emblazoned  with  the  Fishmongers' 
arms  on  the  breast  and  Walworth's  on  the  back. 
Then  followed  an  angel  with  golden  wings  and 
crown,  riding  on  horseback,  who,  on  the  Lord 
Mayor's  approach,  with  a  golden  rod  awoke  Sir 
William  from  his  long  sleep,  and  the  two  then 
became  speakers  in  the  interlude. 

The  great  central  pageant  was  a  triumphal  car 
drawn  by  two  mermen  and  two  mermaids.  In  the 
highest  place  sat  a  guardian  angel  defending  the 
crown  of  Richard  II.,  who  sat  just  below  her. 
Under  the  king  sat  female  personifications  of  the 
royal  virtues.  Truth,  Virtue,  Honour,  Temperance, 
Fortitude,  Zeal,  Equity,  Conscience,  beating  down 
Treason  and  Mutiny,  the  two  last  being  enacted 
"by  burly  men."  In  a  seat  corresponding  with  the 
king's  sat  Justice,  and  beloAv  her  Authorit)',  Law, 
Vigilance,  Peace,  Plenty,  and  Discipline. 


Cheapsldc] 


GOSSIP  ABOUT  LORD   MAYORS'  SHOWS. 


121 


Shirley,  the  dramatist  (Charles  I.)  has  described 
the  Show  in  his  "  Contention  for  Honour  and 
Riches"  (1633).  Clod,  a  sturdy  countryman,  ex- 
claims, "  I  am  plain  Clod  ;  I  care  not  a  bean- 
stalk for  the  best  what  lack  you  on  you  all.  No, 
not  the  next  day  after  Simon  and  Jude,  when  you 
go  a-feasting  to  Westminster  with  your  galley-foist 
and  your  pot-guns,  to  the  very  terror  of  the  paper 
whales  ;  Avhen  you  land  in  shoals,  and  make  the 
understanders  in  Cheapside  wonder  to  see  ships 
swim  on  men's  shoulders  ;  when  the  fencers 
flourish  and  make  the  king's  liege  people  fall 
down  and  worship  the  devil  and  St.  Dunstan; 
when  your  whifflers  are  hanged  in  chains,  and 
Hercules  Club  spits  fire  about  the  pageants,  though 
the  poor  children  catch  cold  that  shone  like 
painted  cloth,  and  are  only  kept  alive  with  sugar- 
plums ;  with  whom,  when  the  word  is  given,  you 
march  to  Guildhall,  with  every  man  his  spoon  in 
his  pocket,  where  you  look  upon  the  giants,  and 
feed  like  Saracens,  till  you  have  no  stomach  to  go 
to  St.  Paul's  in  the  afternoon.  I  have  seen  your 
processions,  and  heard  your  lions  and  camels  make 
speeches,  instead  of  grace  before  and  after  dinner. 
I  have  heard  songs,  too,  or  something  like  'em ; 
but  the  porters  have  had  all  the  burden,  who  were 
kept  sober  at  the  City  charge  two  days  before,  to 
keep  time  and  tune  with  their  feet;  for,  brag 
what  you  will  of  your  charge,  all  your  pomp  lies 
upon  their  back."  In  "  Honoria  and  Memoria," 
1652,  Shirley  has  again  repeated  this  humorous 
and  graphic  description  of  the  land  and  water 
pageants  of  the  good  citizens  of  the  day ;  he  has, 
however,  abridged  the  general  detail,  and  added 
some  degree  of  indelicacy  to  his  satire.  He  alludes 
to  the  wild  men  that  cleared  the  way,  and  their 
fireworks,  in  these  words :  "  I  am  not  afeard  of 
your  green  Robin  Hoods,  that  fright  with  fiery  club 
your  pitiful  spectators,  that  take  pains  to  be  stifled, 
and  adore  the  wolves  and  camels  of  your  com- 
pany." 

Pcpys,  always  curious,  always  chatty,  has,  of 
course,  several  notices  of  Lord  Mayors'  shows ;  for 
instance  : — 

"Oct.  29th,  1660  (Restoration  year). —  I  up 
early,  it  being  my  Lord  Mayor's  day  (Sir  Richard 
Browne),  and  neglecting  my  office,  I  went  to  the 
Wardrobe,  where  I  met  my  Lady  Sandwich  and  all 
the  children  ;  and  after  drinking  of  some  strange 
and  incomparably  good  clarett  of  Mr,  Remball's, 
he  and  Mr.  Townsend  did  take  us,  and  set  the 
young  lords  at  one  Mr.  Nevill's,  a  draper  in  Paul's 
Churchyard  ;  and  my  lady  and  my  Lady  Pickering 
and  I  to  one  Mr.  Isaacson's,  a  linendraper  at  the 
*  Key,'  in  Cheapside,  where  there  was  a  company 


of  fine  ladies,  and  we  were  very  civilly  treated,  and 
had  a  very  good  place  to  see  the  pageants,  which 
were  many,  and  I  believe  good  for  such  kind  of 
things,  but  in  themselves  but  poor  and  absurd. 
The  show  being  done,  we  got  to  Paul's  with  much 
ado,  and  went  on  foot  with  my  Lady  Pickering  to 
her  lodging,  which  was  a  poor  one  in  Blackfryars, 
where  she  never  invited  me  to  go  in  at  all,  which 
methought  was  very  strange.  Lady  Davis  is  now 
come  to  our  next  lodgings,  and  she  locked  up  the 
lead's  door  from  me,  which  puts  me  in  great  dis- 
quiet. 

"  Oct.  29, 1663. — Up,  it  being  Lord  Mayor's  Day 
(Sir  Anthony  Bateman).  This  morning  was  brought 
home  my  new  velvet  cloak — that  is,  lined  with 
velvet,  a  good  cloth  the  outside — the  first  that  ever 
I  had  in  my  life,  and  I  pray  God  it  may  not  be  too 
soon  that  I  begin  to  Avear  it.  I  thought  it  better 
to  go  without  it  because  of  the  crowde,  and  so  I 
did  not  wear  it.  At  noon  I  went  to  Guildhall, 
and,  meeting  with  Mr.  Proby,  Sir  R.  Ford's  son, 
and  Lieutenant-Colonel  Baron,  a  City  commander, 
we  went  up  and  down  to  see  the  tables,  where 
under  every  salt  there  was  a  bill  of  fare,  and  at  the 
end  of  the  table  the  persons  pr<^per  for  the  table. 
Many  were  the  tables,  but  none  in  the  hall  but  the 
mayor's  and  the  lords  of  the  privy  council  that  had 
napkins  or  knives,  which  was  very  strange.  We 
went  into  the  buttry,  and  there  stayed  and  talked, 
and  then  into  the  hall  again,  and  there  wine  was 
offered  and  they  ^drunk,  I  only  drinking  some 
hypocras,  which  do  not  break  my  vowe,  it  being, 
to  the  best  of  my  present  judgment,  only  a  mixed 
compound  drink,  and  not  any  wine.  If  I  am  mis- 
taken, God  forgive  me  !  But  I  do  hope  and  think 
I  am  not.  By-and-by  met  with  Creed,  and  we 
with  the  others  went  within  the  several  courts,  and 
there  saw  the  tables  prepared  for  the  ladies,  and 
judges,  and  bishops — all  great  signs  of  a  great 
dining  to  come.  By-and-by,  about  one  o'clock, 
before  the  Lord  Mayor  come,  came  into  the  hall, 
from  the  room  where  they  were  first  led  into,  the 
Chancellor,  Archbishopp  before  him,  with  the 
Lords  of  the  Council,  and  other  bishopps,  and 
they  to  dinner.  Anon  comes  the  Lord  Mayor,  who 
went  up  to  the  lords,  and  then  to  the  other  tables, 
to  bid  Wellcome;  and  so  all  to  dinner.  I  sat 
near  Proby,  Baron,  and  Creed,  at  the  merchant 
strangers'  table,  where  ten  good  dishes  to  a  messe, 
with  plenty  of  wine  of  all  sorts,  of  which  I  drank 
none ;  but  it  was  very  unpleasing  that  we  had  no 
napkins  nor  change  of  trenchers,  and  drunk  out  of 
earthen  pitchers  and  wooden  dishes.  It  happened 
that  after  the  lords  had  half  dined,  came  the 
French  ambassador  up  to  the  lords'  table,  where 


322 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheapside. 


he  was  to  have  sat;  he  would  not  sit  down  nor 
dine  with  the  Lord  Mayor,  who  was  not  yet  come, 
nor  have  a  table  to  himself,  which  was  offered, 
but,  in  a  discontent,  went  away  again.  After  I  had 
dined,  I  and  Creed  rose  and  went  up  and  down 
the  house,  and  up  to  the  ladies'  room,  and  there 
stayed  gazing  upon  them.  But  though  there  were 
many  and  fine,  both  young  and  old,  yet  I  could 
not  discern  one  handsome  face  there,  which  was 
very  strange.  I  expected  musique,  but  ther^  was 
none,  but  only  trumpets  and  drums,  which  dis- 
pleased me.  The  dinner,  it  seems,  is  made  by 
the  mayor  and  t^vo  sheriffs  for  the  time  being,  the 
Lord  Mayor  paying  one  half,  and  they  the  other ; 
and  the  whole,  Proby  says,  is  reckoned  to  come 
to  about  seven  or  eight  hundred  at  most.  Being 
wearied  with  looking  at  a  company  of  ugly  women. 
Creed  and  I  went  away,  and  took  coach,  and 
through  Cheapside,  and  there  saw  the  pageants, 
which  were  very  silly.  The  Queene  mends  apace, 
they  say,  but  yet  talks  idle  still." 

In  1672  "London  Triumphant,  or  the  City  in 
Jollity  and  Splendour,"  was  the  title  of  Jordan's 
pageant  for  Sir  Robert  Hanson,  of  the  Grocers' 
Company.  The  Mayor,  just  against  Bow  Church, 
was  saluted  by  three  pageants ;  on  the  two  side 
stages  were  placed  two  griffins  (the  supporters  of 
the  Grocers'  arms),  upon  which  were  seated  two 
negroes,  Victory  and  Gladness  attending ;  while 
dn  the  centre  or  principal  stage  behind  reigned 
Apollo,  surrounded  by  Fame,  Peace,  Justice, 
Aurora,  Flora,  and  Ceres.  The  god  addressed 
the  Mayor  in  a  very  high-flown  strain  of  compli- 
ment, saying — 

"With  Oriental  eyes  I  come  to  see, 
And  gratulate  this  great  solemnitie. 
It  hath  been  often  said,  so  often  done, 
That  all  men  will  worship  the  rising  sun. 

{Hf  rises.) 
Such  are  the  blessings  of  his  beams.     But  now 
The  rising  sun,  my  lord,  doth  worship  you." 

{Apollo  bows  politely  to  the  Lord  Mayor.) 

Next  was  displayed  a  wilderness,  with  moors 
planting  and  labouring,  attended  by  three  pipers 
and  several  kitchen  musicians  that  played  upon 
tongs,  gridirons,  keys,  *'  and  other  such  like  con- 
fused musick."  Above  all,  upon  a  mound,  sat 
America,  "a  proper  masculine  woman,  with  a 
tawny  flice,"  wlio  delivered  a  lengthy  speech,  which 
concluded  the  exhibition  for  that  day. 

In  1676  the  pageant  in  Cheapside,  which  digni- 
fied Sir  Thomas  Davies'  accession  as  Lord  Mayor, 
was  "a  Scythian  chariot  of  triumph,"  in  which 
sat  a  fierce  Tamburlain,  of  terrible  aspect  and 
morose  disposition,  who  was,  however,  very  civil 


and  complimentary  upon  the  present  occasion. 
He  was  attended  by  Discipline,  bearing  the  king's 
banner.  Conduct  that  of  the  Mayor,  Courage  that 
of  the  City,  while  Victory  displayed  the  flag  of  the 
Drapers'  Company.  The  lions  of  the  Drapers'  arms 
drew  the  car,  led  by  "Asian  captive  princes,  in 
royal  robes  and  crowns  of  gold,  and  ridden  by  two 
negro  princes."  The  third  pageant  was  "Fortune's 
Bower,"  in  wliich  the  goddess  sat  with  Prosperity, 
Gladness,  Peace,  Plenty,  Honour,  and  Riches.  A 
lamb  stood  in  front,  on  which  rode  a  boy,  "  holding 
the  banner  of  the  Virgin."  The  fourth  pageant 
was  a  kind  of  "  chase,"  full  of  shepherds  and  others 
preparing  cloth,  dancing,  tumbUng,  and  curvetting, 
being  intended  to  represent  confusion. 

In  the  show  of  1672  two  giants,  Gogmagog  and 
Corineus,  fifteen  feet  high  (whose  ancestors  were 
probably  destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire),  appeared  in 
two  chariots,  "  merry,  happy,  and  taking  tobacco, 
to  the  great  admiration  and  delight  of  all  the 
spectators."  Their  predecessors  are  spoken  of  by 
Marston,  the  dramatist,  Stow,  and  Bishop  Corbet. 
In  1708  (says  Mr.  Fairholt)  the  present  Guildhall 
giants  were  carved  by  Richard  Saunders.  In  1837 
Alderman  Lucas  exhibited  two  wickerwork  copies 
of  Gog  and  Magog,  fourteen  feet  high,  their  faces 
on  a  level  with  the  first-floor  windows  of  Cheapside, 
and  these  monstrosities  delighted  the  crowd. 

In  1 70 1  (William  III.)  Sir  William  Gore,  mercer, 
being  Lord  Mayor,  displayed  at  his  pageant  the 
famous  "  maiden  chariot '"'  of  the  Mercers'  Com- 
pany. It  was  drawn  by  nine  white  horses,  ridden 
by  nine  allegorical  personages — four  representing 
the  four  quarters  of  the  world,  the  other  five  the 
retinue  of  Fame — and  all  sounding  remorselessly 
on  silver  trumpets.  Fourteen  pages,  &c.,  attended 
the  horses,  while  twenty  lictors  in  silver  helmets  and 
forty  attendants  cleared  a  way  for  the  procession. 
The  royal  virgin  in  the  chariot  was  attended  by 
Truth  and  Mercy,  besides  kettle-drummers  and 
trumpeters.  The  quaintest  thing  was  that  at  the 
Guildhall  banquet  the  virgin,  surrounded  by  all  her 
ladies  and  pages,  dined  in  state  at  a  separate  table. 

The  last  Lord  Mayor's  pageant  of  the  old  school 
was  in  1702  (Queen  Anne),  when  Sir  Samuel  Dash- 
wood,  vintner,  entertained  her  Majesty  at  the 
Guildhall.  Poor  Elkanah  Settle  (Pope's  butt) 
wrote  the  libretto,  in  hopes  to  revive  a  festival  then 
"  almost  dropping  into  oblivion."  On  his  return 
from  Westminster,  the  Mayor  was  met  at  the  Black- 
friars  Stairs  by  St.  Martin,  patron  of  the  Vintners, 
in  rich  armour  and  riding  a  wliite  steed.  The 
generous  saint  was  attended  by  twenty  dancing 
satyrs,  with  tambourines ;  ten  halberdiers,  with 
rustic  music ;   and    ten   Roman    lictorg.     At  3t, 


Cheapside.] 


ROYAL   VISITS   TO    LORD    MAYORS'   SHOWS. 


323 


Paul's  Churchyard  the  saint  made  a  stand,  and, 
drawing  his  sword,  cut  off  half  his  crimson  scarf,  and 
gave  it  to  some  beggars  and  cripples  who  impor- 
tuned him  for  charity.  The  pageants  were  fanciful 
enough,  and  poor  Settle  must  have  cudgelled  his 
dull  brains  well  for  it.  The  first  was  an  Indian 
galleon  crowded  by  Bacchanals  wreathed  with 
vines.  On  the  deck  of  the 'grape-hung  vessel  sat 
Bacchus  himself,  "properly  drest."  The  second 
pageant  was  the  chariot  of  Ariadne,  drawn  by 
panthers.  Then  came  St.  Martin,  as  a  bishop  in  a 
temple,  and  next  followed  *'  the  Vintage,"  an  eight- 
arched  structure,  with  termini  of  satyrs  and  orna- 
mented with  vines.  Within  was  a  bar,  with  a 
beautiful  person  keeping  it,  with  drawers  (waiters), 
and  gentlemen  sitting  drinking  round  a  tavern 
table.  On  seeing  the  Lord  Mayor,  the  bar-keeper 
called  to  the  drawers — 

"  Where  are  your  eyes  and  ears  ? 
See  there  what  honourable  gent  appears  ! 
Augusta's  great  Prretorian  lord — but  hold  ! 
Give  me  a  goblet  of  true  Orient  mould. 
And  with,"  &c. 

In  1727,  the  first  year  of  the  reign  of  King 
George  II.,  the  king,  queen,  and  royal  family  havmg 
received  a  humble  invitation  from  the  City  to 
dine  at  Guildhall,  their  Majesties,  the  Princess 
Royal,  and  her  Royal  Highness  the  Princess 
Carolina,  came  into  Cheapside  about  three  o'clock 
iu  the  afternoon,  attended  by  the  great  officers  of 
the  court  and  a  numerous  train  of  the  nobility  and 
gentry  in  their  coaches,  the  streets  being  lined 
from  Temple  Bar  by  the  militia  of  London,  and  the 
balconies  adorned  with  tapestry.  Their  Majesties 
and  the  princesses  saw  the  Lord  Mayor's  procession 
from  a  balcony  riear  Bow  Church.  Hogarth  has 
introduced  a  later  royal  visitor — Frederick,  Prince 
of  Wales — in  a  Cheapside  balcony,  hung  with 
tapestry,  in  his  "  Industrious  and  Idle  Apprentices" 
(plate  xii.).  A  train-band  man  in  the  crowd  is 
firing  off  a  musket  to  express  his  delight. 

Sir  Samuel  Fludyer,  Lord  Mayor  of  London  in 
the  year  1761,  the  year  of  the  marriage  of  good 
King  George  III.,  appears  to  have  done  things 
with  thoroughness.  In  a  contemporary  chronicle 
we  find  a  very  sprightly  narrative  of  Sir  Samuel's 
Lord  Mayor's  show,  in  which  the  king  and  queen, 
with  "the  rest  of  the  royal  family,"  participated — 
their  Majesties,  indeed,  not  getting  home  from  the 
Guildhall  ball  until  two  in  the  morning.  Our 
sight-seer  was  an  early  riser.  He  found  the  morning 
foggy,  as  is  common  to  this  day  in  London  about 
the  9th  of  November,  but  soon  the  fog  cleared 
away,  and  the  day  was  brilliantly  fine — an  excep- 
tion,  he  notes,  to  what  had  already,  in  his  time, 


become  proverbial  that  the  Lord  Mayor's  day  is 
almost  invariably  a  bad  one.  He  took  boat  on 
the  Thames,  that  he  might  accompany  the  pro- 
cession of  state  barges  on  their  way  to  Westminster. 
He  reports  "the  silent  highway"  as  being  quite 
covered  with  boats  and  gilded  barges.  The  barge 
of  the  Skinners'  Company  was  distinguished  by 
the  outlandish  dresses  of  strange-spotted  skins  and 
painted  hides  worn  by  the  rowers.  The  barge 
belonging  to  the  Stationers'  Company,  after  having 
passed  through  one  of  the  narrow  arches  of  West- 
minster Bridge,  and  tacked  about  to  do  honour 
to  the  Lord  Mayor's  landing,  touched  at  Lambeth 
and  took  on  board,  from  the  archbishop's  palace,  a 
hamper  of  claret — the  annual  tribute  of  theology 
to  learning.  The  tipple  must  have  been  good, 
for  our  chronicler  tells  us  that  it  was  "con- 
stantly reserved  for  the  future  regalement  of  the 
master,  wardens,  and  court  of  assistants,  and  not 
suffered  to  be  shared  by  the  common  crew  of 
liverymen."  He  did  not  care  to  witness  the 
familiar  ceremony  of  swearing  in  the  Lord  Mayor 
in  Westminster  Hall,  but  made  the  best  of  his  way 
to  the  Temple  Stairs,  where  it  was  the  custom  of 
the  Lord  Mayor  to  land  on  the  conclusion  of  the 
aquatic  portion  of  the  pageant.  There  he  found 
some  of  the  City  companies  already  landed,  and 
drawn  up  in  order  in  Temple  Lane,  between  two 
rows  of  the  train-bands,  "  who  kept  excellent  dis- 
cipline." Other  of  the  companies  were  wiser  in 
their  generation  ;  they  did  not  land  prematurely  to 
cool  their  heels  in  Temple  Lane,  while  the  royal 
procession  was  passing  along  the  Strand,  but  re- 
mamed  on  board  their  barges  regaling  themselves 
comfortably.  The  Lord  Mayor  encountered  good 
Samaritans  in  the  shape  of  the  master  and  benchers 
of  the  Temple,  who  invited  him  to  come  on  shore 
and  lunch  with  them  in  the  Temple  Hall. 

Every  house  from  Temple  Bar  to  Guildhall  was 
crowded  from  top  to  bottom,  and  many  had  scaf- 
foldings besides ;  carpets  and  rich  hangings  were 
hung  out  on  the  fronts  all  the  way  along ;  and  our 
friend  notes  that  the  citizens  were  not  mercenary, 
but  "generously  accommodated  their  friends  and 
customers  gratis,  and  entertained  them  in  the  most 
elegant  manner,  so  that  though  their  shops  were 
shut,  they  might  be  said  to  ha^'e  kept  open 
house." 

The  royal  procession,  which  set  out  from  St. 
James's  Palace  at  noon,  did  not  get  to  Cheapside 
until  near  four,  when  in  the  short  November  day 
it  must  have  been  getting  dark.  Our  sight-seer, 
as  tlie  royal  family  passed  his  window,  counted 
between  twenty  and  thirty  coaches-and-six  belong- 
ing to  them  and  to  their  attendants,  besides  those 


324 


OLD  AND    NEW    LONDON. 


[Cheapside 


of  the  foreign  ambassadors,  officers  of  state,  and 
the  principal  nobiUty.  There  preceded  their 
Majesties  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  Princess 
AmeUa,  the  Duke  of  York,  in  a  new  state  coach  ; 
the  Princes  WiUiam  Henry  and  Frederic,  the 
Princess  Dowager  of  Wales,  and  the  Princesses 
Augusta  and  Caroline  in  one  coach,  preceded  by 
twelve  footmen  with  black  caps,  followed  by  guards 
and  a  grand  retinue.  The  "  king  and  queen  were 
in  separate  coaches,  and  had  separate  retinues. 
Our  friend  in  the  window  of  the  "Queen's  Arms" 
was  in  luck's  way.  From  a  booth  at  the  eastern 
end  of  the    churchyard    the   children    of  Christ 


and  the  balconies  waved  their  hats,  and  the  ladies 
their  handkerchiefs." 

The  Lord  Mayor's  state  coach  was  drawn  by  six 
beautiful  iron-grey  horses,  gorgeously  caparisoned, 
and  the  companies  made  a  grand  appearance.  Even 
a  century  ago,  however,  degeneracy  had  set  in. 
Our  sight-seer  complains  that  the  Armourers'  and 
Braziers',  the  Skinners'  and  Fishmongers' Companies 
were  the  only  companies  that  had  anything  like 
the  pageantry  exhibited  of  old  on  the  occasion. 
The  Armourers  sported  an  archer  riding  erect  in 
his  car,  having  his  bow  in  his  left  hand,  and  his 
quiver  and  arrows  hanging  behind  his  left  shoulder  ; 


FIGURES  OF  GOG  AND  MAGOG  SET   UP  IN   GUILDHALL  AFTER  THE   FIRE. 


Church  Hospital  paid  their  respects  to  their 
Majesties,  the  senior  scholar  of  the  grammar  school 
reciting  a  lengthy  and  loyal  address,  after  which 
the  boys  chanted  "  God  Save  the  King."  At  last 
the  royal  family  got  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Barclay, 
the  Quaker,  from  the  balcony  of  which,  hung  with 
crimson  silk  damask,  they  were  to  see,  with  what 
daylight  remained,  the  civic  procession  that  pre- 
sently followed;  but  in  the  interval  came  Mr. 
Pitt,  in  his  chariot,  accompanied  by  Earl  Temple. 
The  great  commoner  was  then  in  the  zenith  of  his 
popularity,  and  our  sight-seer  narrates  how,  "at 
every  step,  the  mob  clung  about  every  part  of 
the  vehicle,  hung  upon  the  wheels,  hugged  his  foot- 
men, and  even  kissed  his  horses.  There  was  an 
universal  huzza,  and  the  gentlemen  at  the  windows 


also  a  man  in  complete  armour.  The  Skinners 
were  distinguished  by  seven  of  their  company  being 
dressed  in  fur,  having  their  skins  painted  in  the 
form  of  Indian  princes.  The  pageant  of  the  Fish- 
mongers consisted  of  a  statue  of  St.  Peter  finely 
gilt,  a  dolphin,  two  mermaids,  and  a  couple  of  sea- 
horses ;  all  which  duly  passed  before  Georgius 
Rex  as  he  leaned  over  the  balcony  with  his 
Charlotte  by  his  side. 

Our  chronicler  understood  well  the  strategic 
movements  indispensable  to  the  zealous  sight-seer. 
As  soon  as  the  Lord  Mayor's  procession  had  passed 
him,  he  "  posted  along  the  back  lanes,  to  avoid 
the  crowd,"  and  got  to  the  Guildhall  in  advance 
of  the  Lord  Mayor.  He  had  procured  a  ticket  for 
the  banquet  through  the  interest  of  a  friend,  who 


Chcapside.] 


A  ROYAL  BANQUET. 


325 


^ 


"S* 


H 
C 


28 


326 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Chcapside. 


was  one  of  the  committee  for  managing  the  enter- 
tainment, and  also  a  "  mazarine."  It  is  ex- 
plained that  this  was  a  kind  of  nickname  given 
to  the  common  councilmen,  on  account  of  their 
wearing  mazarine  blue  silk  gowns.  He  learned 
that  the  doors  of  the  hall  had  been  first  opened  at 
nine  in  the  morning  for  the  admission  of  ladies  into 
the  galleries,  who  were  the  friends  of  the  committee 
men,  and  who  got  the  best  places  ;  and  subse- 
quently at  twelve  for  the  general  reception  of  all 
who  had  a  right  to  come  in.  What  a  terrible  spell 
of  waiting  those  fortunate  unfortunates  comprising 
the  earliest  batch  must  have  had !  The  galleries 
presented  a  very  brilliant  show,  and  among  the 
company  below  were  all  the  officers  of  state,  the 
principal  nobility,  and  the  foreign  ambassadors. 
The  Lord  Mayor  arrived  at  half-past  six,  and  the 
sheriffs  went  straight  to  Mr.  Barclay's  to  conduct 
the  royal  family  to  the  hall.  The  passage  from 
the  hall-gate  to  steps  leading  to  the  King's  Bench 
was  lined  by  mazarines  with  candles  in  their  hands, 
by  aldermen  in  their  red  go\vns,  and  gentlemen 
pensioners  with  their  axes  in  their  hands.  At 
the  bottom  of  the  steps  stood  the  Lord  Mayor 
and  the  Lady  Mayoress,  with  the  entertainment 
committee,  to  receive  the  members  of  the  royal 
family  as  they  arrived.  The  princes  and  princesses, 
as  they  successively  came  in,  waited  in  the  body 
of  the  hall  until  their  Majesties'  entrance.  On  their 
arrival  being  announced,  the  Lord  Mayor  and  the 
Lady  Mayoress,  as  the  chronicler  puts  it,  advanced 
to  the  great  door  of  the  hall ;  and  at  their  Majesties' 
entrance,  the  Lord  Mayor  presented  the  City 
sword,  which  being  returned,  he  carried  before  the 
King,  the  Queen  following,  with  the  Lady  Mayoress 
behind  her.  "The  music  had  struck  up,  but  was 
drowned  in  the  acclamations  of  the  company ; 
in  short,  all  was  life  and  joy  ;  even  the  giants, 
Gog  and  Magog,  seemed  to  be  almost  animated." 
The  King,  at  all  events,  was  more  than  almost 
animated ;  he  volubly  praised  the  splendour  of 
the  scene,  and  was  very  gracious  to  the  Lord 
Mayor  on  the  way  to  the  council  chamber,  fol- 
lowed by  the  royal  family  and  the  reception  com- 
mittee. This  room  reached,  the  Recorder  deli- 
vered the  inevitable  addresses,  and  the  wives  and 
daughters  of  the  aldermen  were  presented.  These 
ladies  had  the  honour  of  being  saluted  by  his 
Majesty,  and  of  kissing  the  Queen's  hand,  then 
the  sheriffs  were  knighted,  as  also  was  the  brother 
of  the  Lord  Mayor. 

After  half  an  hour's  stay  in  the  council  chamber, 
the  royal  party  returned  into  the  hall,  and  were  con- 
ducted to  the  upper  end  of  it,  called  the  hustings, 
where  a  table  was  provided   for  them,  at  which 


they  sat  by  themselves.  There  had  been,  it  seems, 
a  knotty  little  question  of  etiquette.  The  ladies- 
in-waiting  on  the  Queen  had  claimed  the  right 
of  custom  to  dine  at  the  same  table  with  her 
Majesty,  but  this  was  disallowed ;  so  they  dined 
at  the  table  of  the  Lady  Mayoress  in  the  King's 
Bench.  The  royal  table  *'  was  set  off"  with  a  variety 
of  emblematic  ornaments,  beyond  description 
elegant,"  and  a  superb  canopy  was  placed  over 
their  Majesties'  heads  at  the  upper  end.  For  the 
Lord  Mayor,  aldermen,  and  their  ladies,  there  was 
a  table  on  the  lower  hustings.  The  privy  coun- 
cillors, ministers  of  state,  and  great  nobles  dined 
at  a  table  on  the  right  of  this;  the  foreign 
ministers  at  one  on  the  left.  For  the  mazarines 
and  the  general  company  there  were  eight  tables 
laid  out  in  the  body  of  the  hall,  while  the  judges, 
Serjeants,  and  other  legal  celebrities,  dined  in  the 
old  council  chamber,  and  the  attendants  of  the 
distinguished  visitors  were  regaled  in  the  Court  of 
Common  Pleas. 

George  and  his  consort  must  have  got  up  a  fine 
appetite  between  noon  and  nine  o'clock,  the  hour 
at  which  the  dinner  was  served.  The  aldermen  on 
the  committee  acted  as  waiters  at  the  royal  table. 
The  Lord  Mayor  stood  behind  the  King,  "  in 
quality  of  chief  butler,  while  the  Lady  Mayoress 
waited  on  her  Majesty"  in  the  same  capacity,  but 
soon  after  seats  were  taken  they  were  graciously 
sent  to  their  seats.  The  dinner  consisted  of  three 
courses,  besides  the  dessert,  and  the  purveyors 
were  Messrs.  Horton  and  Birch,  the  same  house 
which  in  the  present  day  suppUes  most  of  the 
civic  banquets.  The  illustration  which  we  give 
on  the  previous  page  is  from  an  old  print  of  the 
period  representing  this  celebrated  festival,  and  is 
interesting  not  merely  on  account  of  the  scene 
which  it  depicts,  but  also  as  a  view  of  Guildhall  at 
that  period. 

The  bill  of  fare  at  the  royal  table  on  this  occasion 
is  extant,  and  as  it  is  worth  a  little  study  on  the 
part  of  modern  epicures,  we  give  it  here  at  full 
length  for  their  benefit : — 

FIRST  SERVICE. 

Venison,  turtle  soups,  fish  of  every  sort,  viz.,  dorys, 
mullets,  turbots,  tench,  soles,  &c. ,  nine  dishes. 

SECOND   SERVICE. 
A  fine  roast,   ortolans,   teals,   quails,   ruffs,   knotts,   pea- 
chicks,  snipes,  partridges,  pheasants,  &c. ,  nine  dishes. 

THIRD    SERVICE. 

Vegetables  and  made  dishes,  green  peas,  green  morelles, 
green  truffles,  cardoons,  artichokes,  ducks'  tongues,  fat  livers, 
&c.,  eleven  dishes. 

FOURTH    SERVICE. 

Curious  ornaments  in  pastry  and  makes,  jellies,  blomonges, 
in  variety  of  shapes,  figures,  and  colours,  nine  dishes. 


Cheapside.] 


FINE  FOLKS  AND   QUAKER   FOLKS. 


327 


In  all,  not  including  the  dessert,  there  were 
placed  on  the  tables  four  hundred  and  fourteen 
dishes,  hot  and  cold.  Wine  was  varied  and  copious. 
In  the  language  of  the  chronicler,  "  champagne, 
burgundy,  and  other  valuable  wines  were  to  be  had 
everywhere,  and  nothing  was  so  scarce  as  water." 
When  the  second  course  was  being  laid  on,  the 
toasts  began.  The  common  crier,  standing  before 
the  royal  table,  demanded  silence,  then  proclaimed 
aloud  that  their  Majesties  drank  to  the  health 
and  prosperity  of  the  Lord  Mayor,  aldermen, 
and  common  council  of  the  City  of  London. 
Then  the  common  crier,  in  the  name  of  the  civic 
dignitaries,  gave  the  toast  of  health,  long  life,  and 
prosperity  to  their  most  gracious  Majesties.  After 
dinner  there  was  no  tarrying  over  the  wine-cup. 
The  royal  party  retired  at  once  to  the  council 
chamber,  "where  they  had  their  tea."  What 
became  of  the  rest  of  the  company  is  not  men- 
tioned, but  clearly  the  Guildhall  could  have  been 
no  place  for  them.  That  was  summarily  occupied 
by  an  army  of  carpenters.  The  tables  were  struck 
and  carried  out.  The  hustings,  where  the  great 
folks  had  dined,  and  the  floor  of  which  had  been 
covered  with  rich  carpeting,  was  covered  afresh, 
and  the  whole  hall  rapidly  got  ready  for  the  ball, 
with  which  the  festivities  were  to  conclude.  On 
the  return  of  their  majesties,  and  as  soon  as  they 
were  seated  under  the  canopy,  the  ball  was  opened 
by  the  Duke  of  York  and  the  Lady  Mayoress.  It 
does  not  appear  that  the  royal  couple  took  the 
floor,  but  "other  minuets  succeeded  by  the 
younger  branches  of  the  royal  family  with  ladies 
of  distinction." 

About  midnight  Georgius  Rex,  beginning  pro- 
bably to  get  sleepy  with  all  this  derangement  of 
his  ordinarily  methodical  way  of  living,  signified 
his  desire  to  take  his  departure ;  but  things  are  not 
always  possible  even  when  kings  are  in  question. 
Such  was  the  hurry  and  confusion  outside — at  least 
that  is  the  reason  assigned  by  the  chronicler — that 
there  was  great  delay  in  fetching  up  the  royal  car- 
riages to  the  Guildhall  door.  Our  own  impression 
is  that  the  coachmen  were  all  drunk,  not  excepting 
the  state  coachman  himself  Their  Majesties  waited 
half  an  hour  before  their  coach  could  be  brought 
up,  and  perhaps,  after  all  the  interchange  of 
civilities,  went  away  in  a  tantrum  at  the  end.  It 
is  clear  the  Princess  Dowager  of  Wales  did,  for  she 
waited  some  time  in  the  temporary  passage,  "  nor 
could  she  be  prevailed  on  to  retire  into  the  hall." 
There  was  no  procession  on  the  return  from  the 
City.  The  royal  people  trundled  home  as  they 
best  might,  and  according  as  their  carriages  came  to 
hand.     But  we  are  told  that  on  the  return  journey, 


past  midnight  as  it  was,  the  crowd  in  some  places 
was  quite  as  great  as  it  had  been  in  the  daytime, 
and  that  Mr.  Pitt  was  vociferously  cheered  all  the 
way  to  his  own  door.  The  King  and  Queen  did 
not  get  home  to  St.  James's  till  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and  it  is  a  confirmation  of  the  suggestion 
that  the  coachman  must  have  been  drunk,  that  in 
turning  under  the  gate  one  of  the  glasses  of  their 
coach  was  broken  by  the  roof  of  the  sentry-box. 
As  for  the  festive  people  left  behind  in  the  Guild- 
hall, they  kept  the  ball  up  till  three  o'clock,  and  we 
are  told  that  "  the  whole  was  concluded  with  the 
utmost  regularity  and  decorum."  Indeed,  Sir  Samuel 
Fludyer's  Lord  Mayor's  day  appears  to  have  been  a 
triumphant  success.  His  Majesty  himself,  we  are 
told,  was  pleased  to  declare  "  that  to  be  elegantly 
entertained  he  must  come  into  the  City."  The 
foreign  ministers  in  general  expressed  their  wonder, 
and  one  of  them  politely  said  in  French,  that  this 
entertainment  was  only  fit  for  one  king  to  give  to 
another. 

One  of  the  Barclays  has  left  a  pleasant  account 
of  this  visit  of  George  III.  to  the  City  to  see 
the  Lord  Mayor's  Show : — "  The  Queen's  clothes," 
says  the  lady,  "  which  were  as  rich  as  gold,  silver, 
and  silk  could  make  them,  was  a  suit  from  which 
fell  a  train  supported  by  a  little  page  in  scarlet 
and  silver.  The  lustre  of  her  stomacher  was  incon- 
ceivable. The  King  I  think  a  very  personable  man. 
All  the  princes  followed  the  King's  example  in 
complimenting  each  of  us  with  a  kiss.  The  Queen 
was  upstairs  three  times,  and  my  little  darling,  with 
Patty  Barclay  and  Priscilla  Bell,  were  introduced  to 
her.  I  was  present,  and  not  a  little  anxious,  on 
account  of  my  girl,  who  kissed  the  Queen's  hand 
with  so  much  grace,  that  I  thought  the  Princess 
Dowager  would  have  smothered  her  with  kisses. 
Such  a  report  of  her  was  made  to  the  King,  that 
Miss  was  sent  for,  and  afforded  him  great  amuse- 
ment by  saying,  '  that  she  loved  the  king,  though 
she  must  not  love  fine  things,  and  her  grandpapa 
would  not  allow  her  to  make  a  curtsey."  Her  sweet 
face  made  such  an  impression  on  the  Duke  of 
York,  that  I  rejoiced  she  was  only  five  instead  of 
fifteen.  When  he  first  met  her,  he  tried  to  persuade 
Miss  to  let  him  introduce  her  to  the  Queen,  but 
she  would  by  no  means  consent,  tiU  I  informed  her 
he  was  a  prince,  upon  which  her  little  female  heart 
relented,  and  she  gave  him  her  hand — a  true  copy 
of  the  sex.  The  King  never  sat  down,  nor  did  he 
taste  anything  during  the  whole  time.  Her  Majesty 
drank  tea,  which  was  brought  her  on  a  silver  waiter 
by  brother  John,  who  delivered  it  to  the  lady  in 
waiting,  and  she  presented  it  kneeling.  The  leave 
they  took  of  us  was  such  as  we  might  expect  from 


f8 


OLD   AND    NEW  LONDON. 


[deapsUlo. 


our  equals — full  of  apologies  for  our  trouble  for 
their  entertainment,  which  they  were  so  anxious  to 
have  explained,  that  the  Queen  came  up  to  us  as 
we  stood  on  one  side  of  tlie  door,  and  had  every 
word  interpreted.  My  brothers  had  the  honour  of 
assisting  the  Queen  into  her  coach.  Some  of  us 
sat  up  to  see  them  return,  and  the  King  and  Queen 
took  especial  notice  of  us  as  they  passed.  The 
King  ordered  twenty-four  of  his  guard  to  be  placed 
opposite  our  door  all  night,  lest  any  of  the  canopy 
should  be  pulled  down  by  the  mob,  in  which  "  (the 
canopy,  it  is  to  be  presumed)  "there  were  loo  yards 
of  silk  damask." 

'*  From  the  above  particulars  we  learn,"  says  Dr. 
Doran,  "  that  it  was  customary  for  our  sovereigns 
to  do  honour  to  industry  long  before  the  period  of 
the  Great  Exhibition  year,  which  is  erroneously 
supposed  to  be  the  opening  of  an  era  when  a  sort 
of  fraternisation  took  place  between  commerce  and 
the  Crown.  Under  the  old  reign,  too,  the  honour 
took  a  homely,  but  not  an  undignified,  and  if  still 
a  ceremonious,  yet  a  hearty  shape.  It  may  be 
questioned,  if  Royalty  were  to  pay  a  visit  to  the 
family  of  the  present  Mr.  Barclay,  whether  the 
monarch  would  celebrate  the  brief  sojourn  by 
kissing  all  tlie  daughters  of  '  Barclay  and  Perkins.' 
He  might  do  many  things  not  half  so  pleasant." 

The  most  important  feature  of  the  modem 
show,  says  Mr.  Fairholt  very  truly,  is  the  splen- 
didly carved  and  gilt  coach  in  which  the  Lord 
Mayor  rides;  and  the  paintings  that  decorate  it 
may  be  considered  as  the  relics  of  the  ancient 
pageants  that  gave  us  the  living  representatives  of 
the  virtues  and  attributes  of  the  chief  magistrate 
here  delineated.  Cipriani  was  the  artist  who  exe- 
cuted this  series  of  paintings,  in  1757;  and  they 
exhibit  upon  the  panel  of  the  right  door.  Fame 
presenting  the  Mayor  to  the  genius  of  the  City; 
on  the  left  door,  the  same  genius,  attended  by 
Britannia,  who  points  with  her  spear  to  a  shield, 
inscribed  "Henry  Fitz-Alwin,"  1109."  On  each 
side  of  the  doors  are  painted  Truth,  with  her 
mirror;  Temperance,  holding  a  bridle;  Justice, 
and  Fortitude.  The  front  panel  exhibits  Faith 
and  Hope,  pointing  to  St.  Paul's ;  the  back  panel 
Charity,  two  female  figures,  typical  of  Plenty  and 
Riches,  casting  money  and  fruits  into  her  lap — 
while  a  wrecked  sailor  and  sinking  ship  fill  up  the 
background.  By  the  kind  permission  of  the  Lord 
j\Iayor  we  are  enabled  to  give  a  representation  of 
the  ponderous  old  vehicle,  which  is  still  the  centre 
of  attraction  every  9th  of  November. 

The  carved  work  of  the  coach  is  elaborate  and 
beautiful,  consisting  of  Cupids  supporting  the  City 
arms,  &c.     The  roof  was  formerly  ornamented  in 


the  centre  with  carved  work,  representing  four 
boys  supporting  baskets  of  fruit,  &c.  These  were 
damaged  by  coming  into  collision  with  an  archway 
leading  into  Blackwall '  Hall,  about  fifty  years  ago ; 
some  of  the  figures  were  knocked  off,  and  the 
group  was  entirely  removed  in  consequence.  This 
splendid  coach  was  paid  for  by  a  subscription  of 
j^Go  from  each  of  the  junior  aldermen,  and  such 
as  had  not  passed  the  civic  chair — its  total  cost 
t>eing  jC^y'^^5  3^.  Subsequently  each  alderman, 
when  sworn  into  office,  contributed  that  sum  to 
keep  it  in  repair;  for  which  purpose,  also,  each 
Lord  Mayor  gave  ;;£^ioo,  which  was  allowed  to  him 
in  case  the  cost  of  the  repairs  during  his  mayoralty 
rendered  it  requisite.  This  arrangement  was  not, 
however,  complied  with  for  many  years ;  after 
which  the  whole  expense  fell  upon  the  Lord 
Mayor,  and  in  one  year  it  exceeded  ;^3oo.  This 
outlay  being  considered  an  unjust  tax  upon  the 
mayor  for  the  time  being,  the  amount  over  ;^ioo 
was  repaid  to  him,  and  the  coach  became  the  pro- 
perty of  the  corporation,  the  expenses  ever  since 
being  paid  by  the  Committee  for  General  Purposes. 
Even  so  early  as  twenty  years  after  its  construction 
it  was  found  necessary  to  repair  the  coach  at  an 
expense  of  ;;^335  ;  and  the  average  expense  of  the 
repairs  during  seven  years  of  the  present  century 
is  said/ to  have  been  as  much  as  ;;^ii5.  Hone 
justly  observes,  "All  that  remains  of  the  Lord 
Mayor's  Show  to  remind  the  curiously-informed  of 
its  ancient  character,  is  the  first  part  of  the  pro- 
cession. These  are  the  poor  men  of  the  company 
to  which  the  Lord  Mayor  belongs,  habited  in  long 
gowns  and  close  caps  of  the  company's  colour, 
bearing  shields  on  their  arms,  but  without  javelins. 
So  many  of  these  lead  the  show  as  there  are  years 
in  the  Lord  Mayor's  age." 

Of  a  later  show  "  Aleph"  gives  a  pleasant  account. 
"  I  was  about  nine  years  old,"  he  says,  "when  from 
a  window  on  Ludgate  Hill  I  watched  the  ponderous 
mayor's  coach,  grand  and  wide,  with  six  footmen 
standing  on  the  footboard,  rejoicing  in  bouquets 
as  big  as  their  heads  and  canes  four  feet  high, 
dragged  slowly  up  the  hill  by  a  team  of  be-ribboned 
horses,  which,  as  they  snorted  along,  seemed  to  be 
fully  conscious  of  the  precious  freight  in  the  rear. 
Cinderella's  carriage  never  could  boast  so  goodly 
a  driver;  his  full  face,  of  a  dusky  or  purple  red, 
swelled  out  on  each  side  hke  the  breast  of  a  pouting 
pigeon  ;  his  three-cornered  hat  was  almost  hidden 
by  wide  gold  lace ;  the  flowers  in  his  vest  were  full- 
blown and  jolly,  like  himself;  his  horsewhip  covered 
with  blue  ribbons,  rising  and  falling  at  intervals 
merely  for  form — such  horses  were  not  made  to  be 
flogged.    Coachee's  box  was  rather  a  tlirone  than  a 


Cheapside.l 


THE  LORD  MAYOR'S  MEN  IN  ARMOUR. 


320 


seat.  Then  a  dozen  gorgeous  walking  footmen  on 
either  hand ;  grave  marshalmen,  treading  gingerly, 
as  if  they  had  corns;  and  City  officers  in  scarlet, 
playing  at  soldiers,  but  looking  anything  but 
soldierly ;  two  trumpeters  before  and  behind,  blow- 
ing an  occasional  blast.     .     .     . 

"How  that  old  coach  swayed  to  and  fro,  with 
its  dignified  elderly  gentlemen  and  rubicund  Lord 
Mayor,  rejoicing  in  countless  turtle  feeds — for, 
reader,  it  was  Sir  William  Curtis!     .     .     . 

"  As  the  ark  of  copper,  plate  glass,  and  enamel 
crept  slowly  up  the  incline,  a  luckless  sweeper-boy 
(in  those  days  such  dwarfed  lads  were  forced  to 
climb  chimneys)  sidled  up  to  one  of  the  fore  horses, 
and  sought  to  detach  a  pink  bow  from  his  mane. 
The  creature  felt  his  honours  diminishing,  and 
turned  to  snap  at  the  blackee.  The  sweep 
screamed,  the  hors?  neighed,  the  mob  shouted, 
and  Sir  William  turned  on  his  pivot  cushion  to 
learn  what  the  noise  meant ;  and  thus  we  were 
enabled  to  gaze  on  a  Lord  Mayor's  face.  In 
sooth  he  was  a  goodly  gentleman,  burly,  and 
with  three  fingers'  depth  of  fat  on  his  portly  person, 
yet  every  feature  evinced  kindHness  and  benevo- 
lence of  no  common  order." 

The  men  in  armour  were  from  time  immemorial 
important  features  in  the  show,  and  the  subjects 
of  many  a  jest.  Hogarth  introduces  them  in  one 
of  his  series,  "  Industry  and  Idleness,"  and  Punch 
has  cast  many  a  missile  at  those  disconsolate 
warriors,  who  all  but  perished  under  their  weight 
of  armour,  degenerate  race  that  we  are  ! 

The  suits  of  burnished  mail,  though  generally 
understood  to  be  kindly  lent  for  the  occasion  by 
the  custodian  of  the  Tower  armoury,  seem  now 
and  then  to  have  been  borrowed  from  the  play- 
house, possibly  for  the  reason  that  the  imitation 
accoutrements  were  more  showy  and  superb  than 
the  real. 

This  was  at  any  rate  the  case  (says  Mr.  Button 
Cook)  in  1812,  when  Sir  Claudius  Hunter  was 
Lord  Mayor,  and  Mr.  EUiston  was  manager  of  the 
Surrey  Theatre.  A  melodramatic  play  was  in  pre- 
paration, and  for  this  special  object  the  manager 
had  provided,  at  some  considerable  outlay,  two 
magnificent  suits  of  brass  and  steel  armour  of  the 
fourteenth  century,  expressly  manufactured  for  him 
by  Mr.  Marriott  of  Fleet  Street.  No  expense  had 
been  spared  in  rendering  this  harness  as  complete 
and  splendid  as  could  be.  Forthwith  Sir  Claudius 
applied  to  Elliston  for  the  loan  of  the  new  armour 
to  enhance  the  glories  of  the  civic  pageant.  The 
request  was  acceded  to  with  the  proviso  that  the 
suit  of  steel  could  only  be  lent  in  the  event  of 
the  ensuing  9th  of  November  proving  free  from 


damp  and  fog.     No  such  condition,  however,  was 
annexed  to  the  loan  of  the  brass  armour ;  and  it 
was  understood  that  Mr.  John  Kemble  had  kindly 
undertaken  to  furnish  the  helmets  of  the  knights 
with  costly  plumes,  and  personally  to  superintend 
the  arrangement  of  these  decorations.     Altogether, 
it  would  seem  that  the  mayor  stood  much  indebted 
to  the  managers,  who,  willing  to  oblige,  yet  felt  that 
their  courtesy  was  deserving  of  some  sort  of  public 
recognition.     At  least  this  was  Elliston's  view  of 
the  matter,  who  read  with   chagrin  sundry  news- 
paper paragraphs,  announcing  that  at  the  approach- 
ing inauguration  of  Sir  Claudius  some  of  the  royal 
armour  from  the  Tower  would  be  exhibited,  but 
ignoring  altogether  the  loan  of  the  matchless  suits 
of  steel  and  brass  from  the  Surrey  Theatre.     The 
manager  was  mortified ;  he  could  be  generous,  but 
he  knew  the  worth  of  an  advertisement.     He  ex- 
postulated with  the  future  mayor.     Sir   Claudius 
replied  that    he   did   not    desire  to   conceal  the 
transaction,  but  rather  than  it  should  go  forth  to  the 
world  that  so  high  a  functionary  as  an  alderman  of 
London  had  made  a  request  to  a  theatrical  manager, 
he  thought  it  advisable  to  inform  the  public  that 
Mr.  Elliston  had  offered  the  use  of  his  property  for 
the   procession  of  the   9th.      This  was  hardly  a 
fair  way  of  stating  the  case,  but    at   length    the 
following  paragraph,  drawn  up  by   Elliston,   was 
agreed  upon  for  publication  in  the  newspapers  : — 
"  We  understand  that  Mr.  Elliston  has  lent  to  the 
Lord    Mayor  elect  the  two  magnificent   suits  of 
armour,  one  of  steel  and  the  other  of  brass,  manu- 
factured by  Marriott  of  Fleet   Street,  and  which 
cost  not  less   than   ^600.      These  very  curious 
specimens  of  the  revival   of  an   art  supposed  to 
have   been    lost  will   be   displayed   in   the    Lord 
Mayor's    procession,  and  afterwards  in  Guildhall, 
with  some  of  the  royal  armour  in  the  Tower."     It 
would  seem  also,  according  to  another  authority, 
that  the  wearers  of  the  armour  were  members  of 
the  Surrey  company. 

On  the  9th  Elliston  was  absent  from  London, 
but  he  received  from  one  left  in  charge  of  his 
interests  a  particular  account  of  the  proceedings  of 
the  day : — 

"  The  unhandsome  conduct  of  the  Lord  Mayor 
has  occasioned  me  much  trouble,  and  will  give  you 
equal  displeasure.  In  the  first  place,  your  para- 
graph never  would  have  appeared  at  all  had  I  not 
interfered  in  the  matter;  secondly,  cropped-tailed 
hacks  had  been  procured  without  housings,  so  that 
I  was  compelled  to  obtain  two  trumpeters'  horses 
from  the  Horse  Guards,  long-tailed  animals,  and 
richly  caparisoned ;  thirdly,  the  helmets  which  had 
been  delivered  at  Mr.  Kemble's  house  were  not 


330 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheapsid*. 


returned  until  twelve  o'clock  on  the  day  of  action, 
with  three  miserable  feathers  in  each,  which  ap- 
peared to  have  been  plucked  from  the  draggle  tail 
of  a  hunted  cock ;  this  I  also  remedied  by  send- 
ing .off  at  the  last  moment  to  the  first  plumassier 
for  the  hire  of  proper  feathers,  and  the  helmets 
were  ultimately  decorated  with  fourteen  superb 
plumes ;  fourthly,  the  Lord  Mayor's  officer,  who 
rode  in  Henry  V.  armour,  jealous  of  our  stately 
aspect,  attempted  to  seize  one  of  our  horses,  on 
which  your  rider  made  as  gallant  a  retort  as  ever 
knight  in  armour  could  have  done,  and  the  assailer 
was  completely  foiled." 

This  was  bad  enough,  but  in  addition  to  this 


practicable  to  him.  His  comrade  in  brass  made 
light  of  these  objections,  gladly  took  the  proffered 
cup  into  his  gauntleted  hands,  and  "  drank  the 
red  wine  through  the  helmet  barred,"  as  though  he 
had  been  one  of  the  famous  knights  of  Branksome 
Tower.  It  was  soon  apparent  that  the  man  in  brass 
was  intoxicated.  He  became  obstreperous ;  he 
began  to  reel  and  stumble,  accoutred  as  he  was,  to 
the  hazard  of  his  own  bones  and  to  the  great 
dismay  of  bystanders.  It  was  felt  that  his  fall 
might  entail  disaster  upon  many.  Attempts  were 
made  to  remove  him,  when  he  assumed  a  pugilistic 
attitude,  and  resolutely  declined  to  quit  the  hall. 
Nor  was  it  possible  to  enlist  against  him  the  ser- 


B.FLEMItJC 


THE    LORD    MAYORS    COACH. 


the  narrator  makes  further  revelation  of  the  behind- 
the-scenes  secrets  of  a  civic  pageant  sixty  years 
ago.  On  the  arrival  of  the  procession  it  was 
found  that  no  accommodation  had  been  arranged 
for  "  Mr.  EUiston's  men,"  nor  were  any  refresh- 
ments proffered  them.  "  For  seven  hours  they 
were  kept  within  Guildhall,  where  they  seem  to 
have  been  considered  as  much  removed  from  the 
necessities  of  the  flesh  as  Gog  and  Magog  above 
their  heads."  At  length  the  compassion,  or  perhaps 
the  sense  of  humour,  of  certain  of  the  diners  was 
moved  by  the  forlorn  situation  of  the  knights  in 
armour,  and  bumpers  of  wine  were  tendered  them. 
The  man  in  steel  discreetly  declined  this  hospitable 
offer,  alleging  that  after  so  long  a  fast  he  feared 
the  wine  would  affect  him  injuriously.  It  was 
whispered  that  his  harness  imprisoned  him  so  com- 
pletely that  eating  and  drinking  were   alike    im- 


vices  of  his  brother  warrior.  The  man  in  steel 
sided  with  the  man  in  brass,  and  the  two  heroes 
thus  formed  a  powerful  coalition,  which  was  only 
overcome  at  last  by  the  onset  of  numbers.  The 
scene  altogether  was  of  a  most  scandalous,  if 
comical,  description.  It  was  some  time  past  mid- 
night when  Mr.  Marriot,  the  armourer,  arrived  at 
Guildhall,  and  at  length  succeeded  in  releasing  the 
two  half-dead  warriors  from  their  coats  of  mail. 

After  all,  these  famous  suits  of  armour  never 
returned  to  the  wardrobe  of  the  Surrey  Theatre,  or 
gleamed  upon  its  stage.  From  Guildhall  they 
were  taken  to  Mr.  Marriott's  workshop.  This,  with 
all  its  contents,  was  accidentally  consumed  by  fire. 
But  the  armourer's  trade  liad  taught  him  chivalry. 
At  his  own  expense,  although  he  had  lost  some 
three  thousand  pounds  by  the  fire,  he  provided 
Elliston  with  new  suits  of  armour  in  lieu  of  those 


Cheapslde.] 


THE   MIDSUMMER  WATCH. 


331 


that  had  been  destroyed.  To  his  outlay  the  Lord 
Mayor  and  the  City  authorities  contributed — 
nothing  !  although  but  for  the  procession  of  the  9th 
of  November  the  armour  had  never  been  in  peril. 

The  most  splendid  sight  that  ever  glorified 
mediaeval  Cheapside  was  the  Midsummer  Marching 
Watch,  a  grand  City  display,  the  description  of 
which  makes  even  the  brown  pages  of  old  Stow 
glow  with  light  and  colour,  seeming  to  rouse  in  the 
old  London  chronicler  recollections  of  his  youth. 


Chamber  of  London.  Besides  the  which  lights, 
every  constable  in  London,  in  number  more  than 
240,  had  his  cresset ;  the  charge  of  every  cresset 
was  in  light  two  shillings  four  pence ;  and  every 
cresset  had  two  men,  one  to  bear  or  hold  it,  another 
to  bear  a  bag  with  light,  and  to  serve  it ;  so  that 
the  poor  men  pertaining  to  the  cressets  taking 
wages,  besides  that  every  one  had  a  strawen  hat, 
with  a  badge  painted,  and  his  breakfast,  amounted 
in  number  to  almost  2,000.    The  Marching  Watch 


THE    Di:MOLiTioN    OF   CHEAPSIDE    CROSS.     From  ail  old  Print.      {Sec  J-ai^c  y^\.) 


"  Besides  the  standing  watches,"  says  Stow,  "  all 
in  bright  harness,  in  every  ward  and  street  in  the 
City  and  suburbs,  there  was  also  a  Marching  Watch, 
that  passed  through  the  principal  streets  thereof; 
to  wit,  from  the  Little  Conduit,  by  Paul's  Gate, 
through  West  Cheap  by  the  Stocks,  through  Corn- 
hill,  by  Leaden  Hall,  to  Aldgate ;  then  back  down 
Fenchurch  Street,  by  Grasse  Church,  about  Grasse 
Church  Conduit,  and  up  Grasse  Church  Street  into 
Cornhill,  and  through  into  West  Cheap  again,  and 
so  broke  up.  The  whole  way  ordered  for  this 
Marching  Watch  extended  to  3,200  taylors' yards  of 
assize.  For  the  furniture  whereof,  with  lights,  there 
were  appointed  700  cressets,  500  of  them  being 
found  by  the  Companies,  the  other  200  by  the 


contained  in  number  about  2,000  men,  part  of 
them  being  old  soldiers,  of  skill  to  be  captains, 
lieutenants,  Serjeants,  cori)orals,  &c. ;  whifflers, 
drummers  and  fifes,  standard  and  ensign  bearers, 
demi-launces  on  great  horses,  gunners  with  hand- 
guns, or  half  hakes,  archers  in  coats  of  white 
fustian,  signed  on  the  breast  and  back  witli  the 
arms  of  the  City,  their  bows  bent  in  their  hands, 
with  sheafs  of  arrows  by  their  side  \  pikemen,  in 
bright  corslets,  burganets,  &c. ;  halbards,  the  like  ; 
the  billmen  in  Almain  rivets  and  aprons  of  mail, 
in  great  number. 

"  This  Midsummer  Watch  was  thus  accustomed 
yearly,  time  out  of  mind,  until  the  year  1539,  the 
31st  of  Henry  VHL  ;  in  which  year,  on  the  8th  of 


5^2 


OLD  AND  I^EW  LOI^DONf. 


[Cheapside. 


May,  a  great  muster  was  made  by  the  citizens  at 
the  Mile's  End,  all  in  bright  harness,  with  coats  of 
Avhite  silk  or  cloth,  and  chains  of  gold,  in  three 
great  battels,  to  the  number  of  15,000;  which 
passed  through  London  to  Westminster,  and  so 
through  the  Sanctuary  and  round  about  the  Park 
of  St.  James,  and  returned  home  through  Oldborn. 

"  King  Henr)',  then  considering  the  great  charges 
of  the  citizens  for  the  furniture  of  this  unusual 
muster,  forbad  the  Marching  Watch  provided  for 
at  midsummer  for  that  year;  which  being  once 
laid  down,  was  not  raised  again  till  the  year 
1548,  the  second  of  Edward  the  Sixth,  Sir  John 
Gresliam  then  being  Maior,  who  caused  the 
Marching  Watch,  both  on  the  eve  of  Saint  John 
Baptist,  and  of  Saint  Peter  the  Apostle,  to  be 
revived  and  set  forth,  in  as  comely  order  as  it  had 
been  accustomed. 

"  In  the  months  of  June  and  July,  on  the  vigil 
of  festival  days,  and  on  the  same  festival  days  in 
the  evenings,  after  the  sun-setting,  there  were 
usually  made  bonefires  in  the  streets,  every  man 
bestowing   wood  or   labour  towards  them.      The 


wealthier  sort,  also,  before  their  doors,  near  to  the 
said  bonefires,  would  set  out  tables  on  the  vigils, 
furnished  with  sweet  bread  and  good  drink;  and 
on  the  festival  days,  with  meat  and  drink,  plenti- 
fully; whereunto  they  would  invite  their  neighbours 
and  passengers  also,  to  sit  and  be  merry  with  them 
in  great  familiarity,  praising  God  for  his  benefits 
bestowed  on  them.  These  were  called  Bonefires, 
as  well  of  good  amity  amongst  neighbours,  that 
being  before  at  controversie,  were  there  by  tlie 
labours  of  others  reconciled,  and  made  of  bitter 
enemies  loving  friends ;  as  also  for  the  virtue  that 
a  great  fire  hath  t®  purge  the  infection  of  the  air. 
On  the  vigil  of  Saint  John  Baptist,  and  on  Saint 
Peter  and  Paul,  the  apostles,  every  man's  door 
being  shadowed  with  green  birch,  long  fennel,  St. 
John's  wort,  orpin,  white  lillies,  and  such-like, 
garnished  upon  with  beautiful  flowers,  had  also 
lamps  of  glass,  with  oyl  burning  in  them  all  the 
night.  Some  hung  out  branches  of  iron,  curiously 
wrought,  containing  hundreds  of  lamps,  lighted  at 
once,  which  made  a  goodly  show,  namely,  in  •  New 
Fish  Street,  Thames  Street,  ii:c." 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 
CHEAPSIDE:    CENTRAL. 

Grim  Chronicles  of  Cheapside— Cheapside  Cross— Puritanical  Intolerance— The  Old  London  Conduits— Medixv.il  Water-carriers—The  Church  of 
St.  Mary-le-Bow — "  Murder  will  out " — The  "  Sound  of  Bow  Bells  " — Sir  Christopher  Wren's  Bow  Church — Remains  of  the  Old  Church  — 
The  Seldacrv— Interesting  Houses  in  Cheapside  and  their  Memories— Goldsmiths'  Row— The  "  Nag's  Head  "  and  the  Self-consecrated  Bishojis 
—  Keats'  House — Saddler's  Hall — A  Prince  Disguised — Blackmore,  the  P»et — Aldernuan  Boydell,  the  Prinlseller— His  Edition  of  Shakespeare 
— "  Puck" — 4'he  Lottery— Death  .nnd  Burial. 


The  Cheapside  Standard,  opposite  Honey  Lane, 
was  also  a  fountain,  and  was  rebuilt  in  the  reign 
of  Henry  VL  In  the  year  1293  (Edward  I.) 
three  men  had  their  right  hands  stricken  off  here 
for  rescuing  a  prisoner  arrested  by  an  officer  of 
the  City.  In  Edward  III.'s  reign  two  fishmongers, 
for  aiding  a  riot,  were  beheaded  at  the  Standard. 
Here  also,  in  the  reign  of  Richard  II.,  Wat  Tyler, 
that  unfortunate  reformer,  beheaded  Richard  Lions, 
a  rich  merchant.  When  Henry  IV.  usurped  the 
throne,  very  beneficially  for  the  nation,  it  was  at  the 
Standard  in  Chepe  that  he  caused  Richard  II.'s 
blank  charters  to  be  burned.  In  the  reign  of 
Henry  VI.  Jack  Cade  (a  man  who  seems  to  have 
aimed  at  removing  real  evils)  beheaded  the  Lord 
Say,  as  readers  of  Shakespeare's  historical  plays 
will  remember;  and  in  1461  John  Davy  had  his 
offending  hand  cut  off  at  the  Standard  for  having 
struck  a  man  before  the  judges  at  Westminster. 


Cheapside  Cross,  one  of  the  nine  crosses  erected 
by  Edward  L,  that  soldier  king,  to  mark  the  resting- 
places  of  the  body  of  his  beloved  queen,  Eleanor 
of  Castile,  on  its  way  from  Lincoln  to  Westminster 
Abbey,  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  road  facing  Wood 
Street.  It  was  built  in  1290  by  Master  Michael,  a 
mason,  of  Canterbury.  From  an  old  painting  at 
Cowdray,  in  Sussex,  representing  the  procession  of 
Edward  VI.  from  the  Tower  to  Westminster,  an 
engraving  of  which  we  have  given  on  page  313,  we 
gather  that  the  cross  was  both  stately  and  graceful. 
It  consisted  of  three  octangular  compartments,  each 
supported  by  eight  slender  columns.  The  base- 
ment story  was  probably  twenty  feet  high ;  the 
second,  ten ;  the  third,  six.  In  the  first  niche  stood 
the  effigy  of  probably  a  contemporaneous  pope; 
round  the  base  of  the  second  were  four  apostles, 
each  with  a  nimbus  round  his  head ;  and  above 
them  sat  the  Virgin,  with  the  infant  Jesus  in  her 


Cheapside.] 


THE  CROSS  AT  CHEAPSIDE. 


333 


arms.  The  highest  niche  was  occupied  by  four 
standing  figures,  while  crowning  all  rose  a  cross 
surmounted  by  the  emblematic  dove.  The  whole 
was  rich  with  highly-finished  ornament. 

Fox,  the  martyrologist,  says  the  cross  was  erected 
on  what  was  then  an  open  spot  of  Cheapside. 
Some  writers  assert  that  a  statue  of  Queen  Eleanor 
first  stood  on  the  spot,  but  this  is  very  much 
doubted.  The  cross  was  rebuilt  in  1441,  and  com- 
bined with  a  drinking-fountain.  The  work  was  a 
long  time  about,  as  the  full  design  was  not  carried 
to  completion  till  the  first  year  of  Henry  VII.  This 
second  erection  was,  in  fact,  a  sort  of  a  timber-shed 
surrounding  the  old  cross,  and  covered  with  gilded 
lead.  It  was,  we  are  told,  re-gilt  on  the  visit  of 
tlie  Emperor  Charles  V.  On  the  accession  of 
Edward  VI.,  that  child  of  promise,  the  cross  was 
altered  and  beautified. 

The  generations  came  and  Avent.     The  'prentice 
who  had  played  round  the  cross  as  a  newly-girdled 
lad  sat  again   on   its  steps    as   a  rich  citizen,  in 
robes  and  chain.     The  shaven  priest  who  stopped 
to  mutter  a  prayer  to  the  half-defaced  Virgin  in  the 
yotive  niche  gave  place  to  his  successor  in   the 
Geneva  gown,  and  still  the  cross  stood,  a  memory 
of  death,  that   spares   neither   king   nor  subject. 
Kut  in  Elizabeth's  time,  in  their  horror  of  image- 
v.^orship,   the  Puritans,  foaming   at  the  mouth    at 
every  outward  and  visible  sign  of  the  old  religion, 
took  great  exception    at   the   idolatrous   cross  of 
Chepe.     Violent  protest  was  soon  made.     In  the 
night  of  June    2rst,  1581,    an  attack  was    made 
on  the   lower   tier  of  images — />,,  the   Resurrec- 
tion, Virgin,  Christ,  and  Edward  the  Confessor,  all 
which  were  miserably  mutilated.     The  Virgin  was 
"  robbed  of  her  son,  and  the  arms  broken  by  which 
she   stayed    him  on   her  knees,  her  whole   body 
also  haled  by  ropes  and  left  ready  to  fall."    The 
Queen  offered  a  reward,  but  the  off'enders  were  not 
discovered.     In  1595  the  effigy  of  the  Virgin  was 
repaired,   and   afterwards    "  a  newe    sonne,   mis- 
shapen (as  borne  out  of  time),  all  naked,  was  laid 
in  her  arms ;  the  other  images  continuing  broken 
as  before,"     Soon  an  attempt  was  made  to  pull 
down  the  woodwork,  and  substitute  a  pyramid  for 
the  crucifix ;  the  Virgin  was  superseded  by  the  god- 
dess Diana — "a  woman  (for  the  most  part  naked), 
and  water,   conveyed   from   the  Thames,  filtering 
from  her  naked  breasts,  but  oftentimes  dried  up." 
Elizabeth,  always  a  trimmer  in  these  matters,  was 
indignant  at  these  fanatical  doings ;  and  thinking 
a  plain  cross,  a  symbol  of  the  faith  of  our  country, 
ought  not  to  give  scandal,  she  ordered  one  to  be 
placed  on  the  summit,  and  gilt.     The  Virgin  also 
>Yfis  restored  ;  but  twelve  riights  afterwards  she  was 


again  attacked,  "  her  crown  being  plucked  off",  and 
almost  her  head,  taking  away  her  naked  child,  and 
stabbing  her  in  the  breast."  Thus  dishonoured  the 
cross  was  left  till  the  next  year,  1600,  when  it  was 
rebuilt,  and  the  universities  were  consulted  as  to 
whether  the  crucifix  should  be  restored.  They 
all  sanctioned  it,  with  the  exception  of  Dr.  Abbot 
(afterwards  archbishop),  but  there  was  to  be  no 
dove.  In  a  sermon  of  the  period  the  following 
passage  occurs  : — "  Oh  !  this  cross  is  one  of  the 
jewels  of  the  harlot  of  Rome,  and  is  left  and  kept 
here  as  a  love-token,  and  gives  them  hope  that 
they  shall  enjoy  it  and  us  again."  Yet  the  cross 
remained  undisturbed  for  several  years.  At  this 
period  it  was  surrounded  by  a  strong  iron  railing, 
and  decorated  in  the  most  inoffensive  manner.  It 
consisted  of  only  four  stones.  Superstitious  images 
were  superseded  by  grave  effigies  of  apostles,  kings, 
and  prelates.  The  crucifix  only  of  the  original 
was  retained.  The  cross  itself  was  in  bad  taste, 
being  half  Grecian,  half  Gothic ;  the  whole,  archi- 
tecturally, much  inferior  to  the  former  fabric. 

The  uneasy  zeal  of  the  Puritanical  sects  soon 
revived.  On  the  night  of  January  24th,  1641,  the 
cross  was  again  defaced,  and  a  sort  of  literary  con- 
tention began.  We  have  "  The  Resolution  of  those 
Contemners  that  will  no  Crosses;"  "Articles  of 
High  Treason  exhibited  against  Cheapside  Cross ;" 
"The  Chimney-sweepers'  Sad  Complaint,  and 
Humble  Petition  to  the  City  of  London  for  erect- 
ing a  Neue  Cross;"  "A  Dialogue  between  the 
Cross  in  Chepe  and  Charing  Cross."  Of  these 
here  is  a  specimen — 

Anabaptist.  O  !  idol  now, 

Down  must  thou ! 
Brother  Ball, 
Be  sure  it  shall. 
Brotvnist.  Helpe  !  Wren, 

Or  we  are  undone  naen. 
I  shall  not  fall. 
To  ruin  all. 
Cheap  Cross.  I'm  so  crossed,  I  fear  my  utter  destruction 
is  at  hand. 

Charing  Cross.  Sister  of  Cheap,  crosses  are  incident  to 
us  all,  and  our  children.  But  what's  the  greatest  cross  that 
hath  befallen  you  ? 

Cheap  Cross.  Nay,  sister;  if  my  cross  were  fallen,  I 
should  live  at  more  lieart's  ease  than  I  do. 

Charing  Cross.  I  believe  it  is  the  cross  upon  your  head 
that  hath  brought  you  into  this  trouble,  is  it  not  ? 

These  disputes  were  the  precursors  of  its  final 
destruction.  In  May,  1643,  the  Parliament  de- 
puted Robert  Harlow  to  the  work,  who  went  with 
a  troop  of  horse  and  two  companies  of  foot,  and 
executed  his  orders  most  completely.  The  official 
account  says  rejoicingly  : — 

^'On  tlie  2nd  of  May,  1643,  the  cross  in  Cheapside 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


334 

was  pulled  down.  At  the  fall  of  the  top  cross 
drums  beat,  trumpets  blew,  and  multitudes  of  caps 
were  thrown  into  the  air,  and  a  great  shout  of 
people  with  joy.  The  2nd  of  May,  the  almanack 
says,  was  the  invention  of  the  cross,  and  the  same 
day  at  night  were  the  leaden  popes  burnt  (they 
were  not  popes,  but  eminent  English  prelates)  in 
the  place  where  it  stood,  with  ringing  of  bells  and 
great  acclamation,  and  no  hurt  at  all  done  in  these 
actions." 

The  loth  of  the  same  month,  the  "Book  of 
Sports  "  (a  collection  of  ordinances  allowing  games 
on  the  Sabbath,  put  forth  by  James  L)  was  burnt 
by  the  hangman,  where  the  Cross  used  to  stand, 
and  at  the  Exchange. 

"Aleph"  gives  us  the  title  of  a  curious  tract, 
published  the  very  day  the  Cross  was  destroyed  :— 
"  The  Downfall  of  Dagon ;  or,  the  Taking  Down 
of  Cheapside  Crosse ;  wherein  is  contained  these 
principles  :  i.  The  Crosse  Sicke  at  Heart.  2.  His 
Death  and  Funerall.  3.  His  Will,  Legacies,  In- 
ventory, and  Epitaph.  4.  Why  it  was  removed. 
5.  The  Money  it  will  bring.  6.  Noteworthy,  that 
it  was  cast  down  on  that  day  when  it  was  first 
invented  and  set  up." 

It  may  be  worth  giving  an  extract  or  two: — 
"I  am  called  the  'Citie  IdoU;'  the  Brownists  spit 
at  me,  and  throw  stones  at  me ;  others  hide  their 
eyes  with  their  fingers;  the  Anabaptists  wish  me 
knockt  in  pieces,  as  I  am  like  to  be  this  day  3 
the  sisters  of  the  fraternity  will  not  come  near  me, 
but  go  about  by  Watling  Street,  and  come  in  again 
by  Soaper  Lane,  to  buy  their  provisions  of  the 
market  folks.  ...  I  feele  the  pangs  of  death, 
and  shall  never  see  the  end  of  the  merry  month  of 
May;  my  breath  stops;  my  life  is  gone;  I  feel 
myself  a-dying  downwards." 

Here  are  some  of  the  bequests  : — "  I  give  my 
iron-work  to  those  people  which  make  good  swords, 
at  Hounslow ;  for  I  am  all  Spanish  iron  and  Steele 
to  the  back. 

♦'I  give  my  body  and  stones  to  those  masons 
that  cannot  telle  how  to  frame  the  like  againe,  to 
keepe  by  them  for  a  patteme;  for  in  time  there 
will  be  more  crosses  in  London  than  ever  there 
was  yet. 

"  I  give  my  ground  whereon  I  stood  to  be  a  free 
market-place. 

"JASPER  CROSSE,    HIS   EPITAPH. 

'  I  look  for  no  praise  when  I  am  dead, 
For,  going  the  right  way,  I  never  did  tread  ; 
I  was  harde  as  an  alderman's  doore, 
That's  shut  and  stony-hearted  to  the  poore. 
I  never  gave  alms,  nor  did  anything 
Was  good,  nor  e'd'  said,  God  save  the  King. 


[Cheapside. 


I  stood  like  a  stock  that  was  made  of  wood. 
And  yet  the  people  would  not  say  I  was  good  ; 
And  if  I  tell  them  plaine,  they're  like  to  mee— 
Like  stone  to  all  goodnesse.    But  now,  reader,  see 
Me  in  the  dust,  for  crosses  must  not  stand. 
There  is  too  much  cross  tricks  within  the  land ; 
And,  having  so  done  never  any  good, 
I  leave  my  prayse  for  to  be  understood ; 
For  many  women,  after  this  my  losse. 
Will  remember  me,  and  still  will  be  crosse — 
Crosse  tricks,  crosse  ways,  and  crosse  vanities, 
Believe  the  Crosse  speaks  truth,  for  here  he  lyes. 

"  I  was  built  of  lead,  iron,  and  stone.  Some  say 
that  divers  of  the  crowns  and  sceptres  are  of  silver, 
besides  the  rich  gold  that  I  was  gilded  with,  which 
might  have  been  filed  and  saved,  yielding  a  good 
value.  Some  have  offered  four  hundred,  some 
five  hundred;  but  they  that  bid  most  offer  one 
thousand  for  it.  I  am  to  be  taken  down  this  very 
Tuesday ;  and  I  pray,  good  reader,  take  notice  by 
the  almanack,  for  the  sign  falls  just  at  this  time, 
to  be  in  the  feete,  to  showe  that  the  crosse  must 
be  laide  equall  with  the  grounde,  for  our  feete  to 
tread  on,  and  what  day  it  was  demolished ;  that  is, 
on  the  day  when  crosses  were  first  invented  and 
set  up;  and  so  I  leave  the  rest  to  your  con- 
sideration." 

Howell,  the  letter  writer,  lamenting  the  demoli- 
tion of  so  ancient  and  visible  a  monument,  says 
trumpets  were  blown  all  the  while  the  crowbars  and 
pickaxes  were  working.  Archbishop  Laud  in  his 
'^  Diary"  notes  that  on  May  ist  the  fanatical  mob 
broke  the  stained-glass  windows  of  his  Lambeth 
chapel,  and  tore  up  the  steps  of  his  communion 
table. 

"On  Tuesday,"  this  fanatic  of  another  sort 
writes,  "the  cross  in  Cheapside  was  taken  down 
to  cleanse  tha-t  great  street  of  superstition."  The 
amiable  Evelyn  notes  in  his  "  Diary  "  that  he  him- 
self saw  "  the  furious  and  zelous  people  demolish 
that  stately  crosse  in  Cheapside."  In  July,  1645, 
two  years  afterwards,  and  in  the  middle  of  the 
Civil  War,  Whitelock  (afterwards  Oliver  Cromwell's 
trimming  minister)  mentions  a  burning  on  the  site 
of  the  Cheapside  cross  of  crucifixes,  Popish  pictures, 
and  books.  Soon  after  the  demolition  of  the  cross 
(says  Howell)  a  high  square  stone  rest  was  "  popped 
up  in  Cheapside,  hard  by  the  Standard,"  according 
to  the  legacy  of  Russell,  a  good-hearted  porter. 
This  "rest  and  be  thankful"  bore  the  following 
simple  distich  : — 

«'  God  bless  thee,  porter,  who  great  pains  doth  take  ; 
Rest  here,  and  welcome,  when  thy  back  doth  ache." 

There  are  four  views  of  the  old  Cheapside  cross 
extant— one  at  Cowdray,  one  at  the  Pepysian  library, 
Cambridge.      A    third,    engraved    by   Wilkinson, 


Cheapside.] 


THE   CHURCH   OF   ST.    MARY-LE-BOW. 


335 


represents  the  procession  of  Mary  de  Medicis,  on 
her  way  through  Cheapside;  and  another,  which 
we  give  on  page  331,  shows  the  demolition  of  the 
cross. 

The  old  London  conduits  were  pleasant  gather- 
ing places  for  'prentices,  serving-men,  and  servant 
girls  —  open-air  parliaments  of  chatter,  scandal, 
love-making,  and  trade  talk.  Here  all  day  repaired 
the  professional  water-carriers,  rough,  sturdy  fellows 
— like  Ben  Jonson's  Cob — who  were  hired  to  supply 
the  houses  of  the  rich  goldsmiths  of  Chepe,  and 
who,  before  Sir  Hugh  Middleton  brought  the  New 
River  to  London,  were  indispensable  to  the  citizen's 
very  existence. 

The  Great  Conduit  of  Cheapside  stood  in  the 
middle  of  the  east  end  of  the  street  near  its  junction 
with  the  Poultry,  while  the  Litde  Conduit  was  at 
the  west  end,  facing  Foster  Lane  and  Old  Change. 
Stow,  that  indefatigable  stitcher  together  of  old 
history,  describes  the  larger  conduit  curtly  as 
bringing  sweet  water  "by  pipes  of  lead  under- 
ground from  Tyburn  (Paddington)  for  the  service 
of  the  City.''  It  was  castellated  with  stone  and 
cisterned  in  lead  about  the  year  1285  (Edward  I.), 
and  again  new  built  and  enlarged  by  Thomas 
Ham,  a  sheriff  in  1479  (Edward  IV.).  Ned  Ward 
(1700),  in  his  lively  ribald  way  describes  Cheapside 
conduit  (he  does  not  say  which)  palisaded  with 
chimney-sweepers'  brooms  and  surrounded  by 
sweeps,  probably  waiting  to  be  hired,  so  that  "  a 
countryman,  seeing  so  many  black  attendants  1 
waiting  at  a  stone  hovel,  took  it  to  be  one  of  Old 
Nick's  tenements." 

In  the  reign  of  Edward  III.  the  supply  of  water 
for  the  City  seems  to  have  been  derived  chiefly  from 
the  river,  the  local  conduits  being  probably  insuffi- 
cient. The  carters,  called  "  water-leders "  (24th 
Edward  III.),  were  ordered  by  the  City  to  charge 
three-halfpence  for  taking  a  cart  from  Dowgate  or 
Castle  Baynard  to  Chepe,  and  five  farthings  if 
they  stopped  short  of  Chepe,  while  a  sand-cart  from 
Aldgate  to  Chepe  Conduit  was  to  charge  three- 
pence. 

The  Church  of  St.  Mary-le-Bow,  the  sound  of 
whose  mellow  bells  is  supposed  to  be  so  dear  to 
cockney  ears,  is  the  glory  and  crown  of  modern 
Cheapside.  The  music  it  casts  forth  into  the 
troubled  London  air  has  a  special  magic  of  its 
own,  and  has  a  power  to  waken  memories  of 
the  past.  This  chcf-d'' xuvre  of  Sir  Christopher 
Wren,  whose  steeple — as  graceful  as  it  is  stately — 
rises  like  a  lighthouse  above  the  roar  and  jostle  of 
the  human  deluge  below,  stands  on  an  ecclesiastical 
site  of  great  antiquity.  The  old  tradition  is  that 
here,  as   at   St.    Paul's   and   Westminster,  was   a 


Roman  temple,  but  of  that  there  is  no  proof  what- 
ever. The  first  Bow  Church  seems,  however,  to 
have  been  one  of  the  earliest  churches  built  by 
the  conquerors  of  Harold ;  and  here,  no  doubt,  the 
sullen  Saxons  came  to  sneer  at  the  masse  chanted 
with  a  French  accent.  The  first  church  was  racked 
by  storm  and  fire,  was  for  a  time  turned  into  a 
fortress,  was  afterwards  the  scene  of  a  murder,  and 
last  of  all  became  one  of  our  earliest  ecclesiastical 
courts.  Stow,  usually  very  clear  and  unconfused, 
rather  contradicts  himself  for  once  about  the 
origin  of  the  name  of  the  church — "  St.  Mary  de 
Arcubus  or  Bow."  In  one  place  he  says  it  was  so 
called  because  it  was  the  first  London  church  built 
on  arches ;  and  elsewhere,  when  out  of  sight  of  this 
assertion,  he  says  that  it  took  its  name  from  certain 
stone  arches  supporting  a  lantern  on  the  top  of  the 
tower.  The  first  is  more  probably  the  true  deriva- 
tion, for  St.  Paul's  could  also  boast  its  Saxon 
crypt.  Bow  Church  is  first  mentioned  in  the  reign 
of  William  the  Conqueror,  and  it  was  probably 
built  at  that  period. 

There  seems  to  have  been  nothing  to  specially 
disturb  the  fair  building  and  its  ministering  priests 
till  1090  (William  Rufus),  when,  in  a  tremendous 
storm  that  sent  the  monks  to  their  knees,  and 
shook  the  very  saints  from  their  niches  over  portal 
and  arch,  the  roof  of  Bow  Church  was,  by  one 
great  wrench  of  the  wind,  lifted  oft",  and  wafted 
down  like  a  mere  dead  leaf  into  the  street.  It  does 
not  say  much  for  the  state  of  the  highway  that  four 
of  the  huge  rafters,  twenty-six  feet  long,  were  driven 
(so  the  chroniclers  say)  twenty-two  feet  into  the 
ground. 

In  1270  part  of  the  steeple  fell,  and  caused  the 
death  of  several  persons ;  so  that  the  work  of 
mediaeval  builders  does  not  seem  to  have  been 
always  irreproachable. 

It  was  in  1284  (Edward  I.)  that  blood  was  shed, 
and  the  right  of  sanctuary  violated,  in  Bow  Church. 
One  Duckett,  a  goldsmith,  having  in  that  warlike 
age  wounded  in  some  fray  a  person  named  Ralph 
Crepin,  took  refuge  in  this  church,  and  slept  in  the 
steeple.  While  there,  certain  friends  of  Crepin 
entered  during  the  night,  and  violating  the  sanc- 
tuary, first  slew  Duckett,  and  then  so  placed  the 
body  as  to  induce  the  belief  that  he  had  committed 
suicide.  A  verdict  to  this  effect  was  accordingly 
returned  at  the  inquisition,  and  the  body  was  in- 
terred with  the  customary  indignities.  The  real  cir- 
cumstances, however,  being  afterwards  discovered, 
through  the  evidence  of  a  boy,  who,  it  appears,  was 
with  Duckett  in  his  voluntary  confinement,  and  had 
hid  himself  during  the  struggle,  the  murderers, 
among  whom  was  a  woman,  were  apprehended  and 


"^ro 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Cheapside. 


executed.      After  this  occurrence  the  church  was  1  the  revival  of  an  old  and  favourite  usage.     The 

interdicted  for  a  time,  and  the  doors  and  windows    rhymes  are — 

stopped  with  brambles.  "  Clarke  of  the  Bow  bell,  with  the  yellow  lockes, 

The  first  we  hear  of  the  nightly  ringing  of  Bow  For  thy  late  ringing,  thy  head  shall  have  knockes." 

bell  at  nine  o'clock — a  reminiscence,  probably,  of  |  To  this  tlie  clerk  replies — 


OLD    MAP    OF   THE   WARD    OF   CHEAP— ABOUT    I750, 


the  tyrannical  Norman  curfew,  or  signal  for  ex-  j 
tinguishing  the  lights  at  eight  p.m. — is  in  1315! 
(Edward  IL).  It  was  the  go-to-bed  bell  of  those  ; 
early  days  ;  and  two  old  couplets  still  exist,  supposed 
to  be  the  complaint  of  the  sleepy  'prentices  of  ^ 
Chepe  and  the  obsequious  reply  of  the  Bow  Church  | 
clerk.  In  the  re'gn  of  Henry  VI.  the  steeple  was 
completed,  and  th?  ringing  of  the  bell  was,  perhaps. 


"  Children  of  Chepe,  hold  you  all  still, 
For  you  shall  have  Bow  bell  rung  at  your  will." 

In  13 1 5  (Edward  II.)  William  Copeland,  church- 
warden of  Bow,  gave  a  new  bell  to  the  church,  or 
had  the  old  one  re-cast. 

In  15 12  (Henry  VIII.)  the  upper  part  of  the 
steeple  was  repaired,  and  the  lanthorn  and  the 
stone  arches  forming  the  open  coronet  of  the  tower 


Cheapside.] 


ST.    MARY-LE-BOW. 


337 


were  finished  with  Caen  stone.  It  was  then  pro- 
posed to  glaze  the  five  corner  lanthorns  and  the 
top  lanthorn,  and  light  them  up  with  torches  or 
cressets  at  night,  to  serve  as  beacons  for  travellers 
on  the  northern  roads  to  London;  but  the  idea 
was  never  carried  out. 

By  the  Great  Fire  of  1666,  the  old  church  was 
destroyed ;  and  in  167  x  the  present  edifice  was  com- 
menced by  Sir  C.  Wren.  After  it  was  erected  the 
parish  was  united  to  two  others,  AUhallows,  Honey 
Lane,  and  St.  Pancras, 
Soper  I^ane.  As  the 
right  of  presentation 
to  the  latter  of  them 
is  also  vested  in  the 
Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, and  that  of  the 
former  in  the  Grocers' 
Company,  the  Arch- 
bishop nominates 
twice  consecutively, 
and  the  Grocers'  Com- 
pany once.  We  learn 
from  the  "  Parentalia," 
that  the  former  church 
had  been  mean  and 
low.  On  digging  out 
tlie  ground,  a  founda- 
tion was  discovered 
sufficiently  firm  for 
the  intended  fabric, 
which,  on  further  exa- 
mination, the  account 
states,  appeared  to  be 
the  walls  and  pave- 
ment of  a  temple,  or 
church,  of  Roman 
workmanship,  entirely 
buried  under  the  level 
of  the  present  street. 

In  reality,  however  (unless  other  remains  were  found 
below  those  since  seen,  which  is  not  probable),  this 
was  nothing  more  than  the  crypt  of  the  ancient 
Norman  church,  and  it  may  still  be  examined  in  the 
vaults  of  the  present  building ;  for,  as  the  account 
informs  us,  upon  these  walls  was  commenced  the 
new  church.  The  former  building  stood  about 
forty  feet  backwards  from  Cheapside ;  and  in  order 
to  bring  the  new  steeple  forward  to  the  line  of  the 
street,  the  site  of  a  house  not  yet  rebuilt  was  pur- 
chased, and  on  it  the  excavations  were  commenced 
for  the  foundation  of  the  tower.  Here  a  Roman 
causeway  was  found,  supposed  to  be  the  once 
northern  boundary  of  the  colony.  The  church  was 
completed  (chiefly  at  the  expense  of  subscribers) 
29 


THE  SEAL   OF   BOW  CHURCH. 
(Seepage  338.) 


in  1680.  A  certain  Dame  Dyonis  Williamson,  of 
Hale's  Hall,  in  the  county  of  Norfolk,  gave  ;!^2,ooo 
towards  the  rebuilding.  Of  the  monuments  in  the 
church,  that  to  the  memory  of  Dr.  Newton,  Bishop 
of  Bristol,  and  twenty-five  years  rector  of  Bow 
Church,  is  the  most  noticeable.  In  1820  the  spire 
was  repaired  by  George  Gwilt,  architect,  and  the 
upper  part  of  it  taken  down  and  rebuilt.  There 
used  to  be  a  large  building,  called  the  Crown-sild, 
or  shed,  on  the  north  side  of  the  old  church  (now 

the  site  of  houses  in 
Cheapside),  which  was 
erected  by  Edward 
III.,  as  a  place  from 
which  the  Royal 
Family  might  view 
tournaments  and  other 
entertainments  there- 
after occurring  in 
Cheapside.  Originally 
the  King  had  nothing 
but  a  temporary 
wooden  shed  for  the 
purpose,  but  this  fall- 
ing down,  as  already 
described  (page  316), 
led  to  the  erection  of 
the  Crown-sild. 

"  Without  the  north 
side  of  this  church 
of  St.  Mary  Bow," 
says  Stow,  "  towards 
West  Chepe,  standeth 
one  fair  building  of 
stone,  called  in  record 
Seldam,  a  shed  which 
greatly  darkeneth  the 
said  church ;  for  by 
means  thereof  all  the 
windows  and  doors 
up.  King  Edward 
be  made,  and  to  be 


on  that  side  are  stopped 
caused  this  sild  or  shed  to 
strongly  built  of  stone,  for  himself,  the  queen,  and 
other  estates  to  stand  in,  there  to  behold  the 
joustings  and  other  shows  at  their  pleasure.  And 
this  house  for  a  long  time  after  served  for  that  use 
— viz.,  in  the  reigns  of  Edward  III.  and  Richard  II. ; 
but  in  the  year  1410  Henry  IV.  confirmed  the  said 
shed  or  building  to  Stephen  Spilman,  William 
Marchfield,  and  John  Whateley,  mercers,  by  the 
name  of  one  New  Seldam,  shed,  or  building, 
with  shops,  cellars,  and  edifices  whatsoever  apper- 
taining, called  Crownside  or  Tamersilde,  situate  in 
the  Mercery  in  West  Chepe,  and  in  the  parish  of 
St.  Mary  de  Arcubus,  in  London,  &c.     Notwith- 


338 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheapside. 


Standing  which  grant  the  kings  of  England  and 
other  great  estates,  as  well  of  foreign  countries 
repairing  to  this  realm,  as  inhabitants  of  the  same, 
have  usually  repaired  to  this  place,  therein  to 
behold  the  shows  of  this  city  passing  through 
■  West  Chepe — viz.,  the  great  watches  accustomed 
in  the  night,  on  the  even  of  St.  John  the  Baptist 
and  St.  Peter  at  Midsummer,  the  example  whereof 
were  over  long  to  recite,  wherefore  let  it  suffice 
briefly  to  touch  one.  In  the  year  15 lo,  on  St. 
John's  even  at  night,  King  Henry  VIIL  came  to 
this  place,  then  called  the  King's  Head  in  Chepe, 
in  the  livery  of  a  yeoman  of  the  guard,  with  a 
halbert  on  his  shoulder, .  and  there  beholding  the 
watch,  departed  privily  whwi  the  watch  was  done, 
and  was  not  known  to  any  but  whom  it  pleased 
him ;  but  on  St.  Peter's  night  next  following  he  and 
the  queen  came  royally  riding  to  the  said  place, 
and  there  with  their  nobles  beheld  the  watch  of  the 
city,  and  returned  in  the  morning." 

The  Builder,  of  1845,  gives  a  full  account  of  the 
discovery  of  architectural  remains  beneath  some 
houses  in  Bow  Churchyard  : — 

"  They  are,"  says  the  Builder,  "  of  a  much  later 
date  than  the  celebrated  Norman  crypt  at  present 
existing  uader  the  church.  Beneath  the  house 
No.  5  is  a  square  vaulted  chamber,  twelve  feet  by 
seven  feet  three  inches  high,  with  a  slightly  pointed 
arch  of  ribbed  masonry,  similar  to  some  of  those 
of  the  Old  London  Bridge.  There  had  been  in 
the  centre  of  the  floor  an  excavation,  which  might 
have  been  formerly  used  as  a  bath,  but  which  was 
now  arched  over  and  converted  into  a  cesspool. 
Proceeding  towards  Cheapside,  there  appears  to  be 
a  continuation  of  the  vaulting  beneath  the  houses 
Nos.  4  and  3.  The  arch  of  the  vault  here  is  plain 
and  more  pointed.  The  masonry  appears,  from  an 
aperture  near  to  the  warehouse  above,  to  be  of 
considerable  thickness.  This  crypt  or  vault  is 
seven  feet  in  height,  from  the  floor  to  the  crown  of 
the  arch,  and  is  nine  feet  in  width,  and  eighteen 
*  feet  long.  Beneath  the  house  No.  4  is  an  outer 
vault.  The  entrance  to  both  these  vaults  is  by  a 
depressed  Tudor  arch,  with  plain  spandrils,  six  feet 
high,  the  thickness  of  the  walls  about  four  feet.  In 
the  thickness  of  the  eastern  wall  of  one  of  the 
vaults  are  cut  triangular-headed  niches,  similar  to 
those  in  which,  in  ancient  ecclesiastical  edifices,  the 
basins  containing  the  holy  water,  and  sometimes 
lamps,  were  placed.  These  vaultings  appear  ori- 
ginally to  have  extended  to  Cheapside ;  for  beneath 
a  house  there,  in  a  direct  line  with  these  buildings 
and  close  to  the  street,  is  a  massive  stone  wall. 
The  arches  of  this  crypt  are  of  the  low  pointed 
form,  which  came  into  use  in  the  sixteenth  century. 


There  are  no  records  of  any  monastery  having 
existed  on  this  spot,  and  it  is  difficult  to  conjecture 
Avhat  the  building  originally  was.  Mr.  Chaffers 
thought  it  might  be  the  remains  of  the  Croum-sild, 
or  shed,  where  our  sovereigns  resorted  to  view  the 
joustings,  shows,  and  great  marching  matches  on 
the  eves  of  great  festivals." 

The  ancient  silver  parish  seal  of  St.  Mary-le- 
Bow,  of  which  we  give  an  engraving  on  page 
337,  representing  the  tower  of  the  church  as  it 
existed  before  the  Great  Fire  of  1666,  is  still  in 
existence.  It  represents  the  old  coronetted  tower 
with  great  exactitude. 

The  first  recorded  rector  of  Bow  Church  was 
William  D.  Cilecester  (1287,  Edward  I.),  and  the 
earliest  known  monument  in  the  church  was  in 
memory  of  Sir  John  Coventry,  Lord  Mayor  in 
1425  (Henry  VI.).  The  advowson  of  St.  Mary-le- 
Bow  belongs  to  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and 
is  the  chief  of  his  thirteen  peculiars,  or  insulated 
livings. 

Lovers  of  figures  may  like  to  know  that  the 
height  of  Bow  steeple  is  221  feet  8^  inches.  The 
church  altogether  cost  ;!^7,388  8s.  7d. 

It  was  in  Bow  parish,  Maitland  thinks,  that  John 
Hare,  the  rich  mercer,  lived,  at  the  sign  of  tlie 
"  Crown,"  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIIL  He  was  a 
Suffolk  man,  made  a  large  fortune,  and  left  a  con- 
siderable sum  in  charity — to  poor  prisoners,  to  the 
hospitals,  the  lazar-houses,  and  the  alms-men  of 
Whittington  College — and  thirty-five  heavy  gold 
mourning  rings  to  special  friends. 

Edward  IV.,  the  same  day  he  was  proclaimed, 
dined  at  the  palace  at  Paul's  (that  is,  Baynard's 
Castle,  near  St.  Paul's),  in  the  City,  and  continued 
there  till  his  army  was  ready  to  march  in  pursuit 
of  King  Henry ;  during  which  stay  in  the  City  he 
caused  Walter  Walker,  an  eminent  grocer  in  Cheap- 
side,  to  be  apprehended  and  tried  for  a  few  harmless 
words  innocently  spoken  by  him — viz.,  that  he 
would  make  his  son  heir  to  the  Crown,  inoffensively 
meaning  his  own  house,  which  had  the  crown  for 
its  sign ;  for  which  imaginary  crime  he  was  be- 
headed in  Smithfield,  on  the  eighth  day  of  this 
king's  reign.  Tliis  "  Crown  "  was  probably  Hare's 
house. 

The  house  No.  108,  Cheapside,  opposite  Bow 
Church,  was  rebuilt  after  the  Great  Fire  upon  the 
sites  of  three  ancient  houses,  called  respectively 
the  "Black  Bull,"  leased  to  Daniel  Waldo;  the 
"  Cardinalle  Hat,"  leased  to  Ann  Stephens ;  and 
the  "  Black  Boy,"  leased  to  William  Carpenter,  by 
the  Mercers'  Company.  In  the  library  of  the  City 
of  London  there  are  MSS.  from  the  Surveys  of 
Wills,   &c.,  after   the  Fire   of  London,   giving   a 


Cheapslde.] 


THE  "NAG'S  HEAD"  SCANDAL. 


339 


description  of  the  property,  as  well  as  the  names 
of  the  respective  owners.  It  was  subsequently 
leased  to  David  Barclay,  linendraper ;  and  has  been 
visited  by  six  reigning  sovereigns,  from  Charles  11. 
to  George  III.,  on  civic  festivities,  and  for  wit- 
nessing the  Lord  Mayor's  show.  In  this  house 
Sir  Edward  Waldo  was  knighted  by  Charles  II., 
and  the  Lord  Mayor,  in  171 4,  was  created  a  baronet 
by  George  I.  When  the  house  was  taken  down 
in  1 86 1,  the  fine  old  oak-panelled  dining-room, 
with  its  elaborate  carvings,  was  purchased  entire, 
and  removed  to  Wales.  The  purchaser  has 
written  an  interesting  description  (privately  printed) 
of  the  panelling,  the  royal  visits,  the  Barclay 
family,  and  other  interesting  matters. 

In  1 86 1  there  was  sold,  says  Mr.  Timbs,  amongst 
the  old  materials  of  No.  108,  the  "fine  old  oak- 
panelling  of  a  large  dining-room,  with  chimney- 
piece  and  cornice  to  correspond,  elaborately  carved 
in  fruit  and  foliage,  in  capital  preservation,  750 
fee  superficial."  These  panels  v/ere  purchased 
by  Mr.  Morris  Charles  Jones,  of  Gunrog,  near 
Welshpool,  in  North  Wales,  for  £^12  los.  3d., 
including  commission  and  expenses  of  removal, 
being  about  is.  8d.  per  foot  superficial.  It  has 
been  conveyed  from  Cheapside  to  Gunrog.  This 
room  was  the  principal  apartment  of  the  house  of 
Sir  Edward  Waldo,  and  stated,  in  a  pamphlet  by 
Mr.  Jones,  "to  have  been  visited  by  six  reigning 
sovereigns,  from  Charles  II.  to  George  III.,  on 
the  occasion  of  civic  festivities  and  for  the  purpose 
of  witnessing  the  Lord  Mayor's  show,"  (See  Mr. 
Jones's  pamphlet,  privately  printed,  1864.)  A  con- 
temporary (the  Builder)  doubts  whether  this  carving 
can  be  the  work  of  Gibbons ;  "  if  so,  it  is  a  rare 
treasure,  cheaply  gained.  But,  except  in  St.  Paul's, 
a  Crown  and  ecclesiastical  structure,  be  it  remem- 
bered, not  a  corporate  one,  there  is  not  a  single 
example  of  Gibbons'  art  to  be  seen  in  the  City  of 
London  proper." 

Goldsmiths'  Row,  in  Cheapside,  between  Old 
Change  and  Bucklersbury,  was  originally  built  by 
Thomas  Wood,  goldsmith  and  sheriff,  in  1491 
(Henry  VII.).  Stow,  speaking  of  it,  says:  "  It  is 
a  most  beautiful  frame  of  houses  and  shops,  con- 
sisting of  tenne  faire  dwellings,  uniformly  builded 
foure  stories  high,  beautified  towards  the  street  with 
the  Goldsmiths'  arms,  and  likeness  of  Woodmen,  in 
memorie  of  his  name,  riding  on  monstrous  beasts, 
all  richly  painted  and  gilt."  Maitland  assures  us 
"  it  was  beautiful  to  behold  the  glorious  appearance 
of  goldsmith's  shops,  in  the  south  row  of  Cheap- 
side,  which  reached  from  the  Old  Change  to  Buck- 
lersbury, exclusive  of  four  shops." 

The  sign  in  stone  of  a  nag's  head  upon  the  front 


of  the  old  house.  No.  39,  indicates,  it  is  supposed, 
the  tavern  at  the  corner  of  Friday  Street,  where, 
according  to  Roman  Catholic  scandal,  the  Pro- 
testant bishops,  on  Elizabeth's  accession,  conse- 
crated each  other  in  a  very  irregular  manner. 

Pennant  thus  relates  the  scandalous  story  : — "  It 
was  pretended  by  the  adversaries  of  our  religion, 
that  a  certain  number  of  ecclesiastics,  in  their  hurry 
to  take  possession  of  the  vacant  sees,  assembled 
here,  where  they  were  to  undergo  the  ceremony 
from  Anthony  Kitchen,  alias  Dunstan,  Bishop  of 
Llandaff",  a  sort  of  occasional  conformist,  who  had 
taken  the  oaths  of  supremacy  to  Queen  Elizabeth. 
Bonner,  Bishop  of  London,  then  confined  in  prison, 
hearing  of  it,  sent  his  chaplain  to  Kitchen,  threaten- 
ing him  with  excommunication  in  case  he  pro- 
ceeded. The  prelate,  therefore,  refused  to  perform 
the  ceremony ;  on  which,  say  the  Roman  Catholics, 
Parker  and  the  other  candidates,  rather  than  defer 
possession  of  their  dioceses,  determined  to  con- 
secrate one  mother,  which,  says  the  story,  they 
did  without  any  sort  of  scruple,  and  Story  began 
with  Parker,  who  instantly  rose  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury.  The  simple  refutation  of  this  lying 
story  iray  be  read  in  Strype's  *  Life  of  Archbishop 
Parker.' "  The  "  Nag's  Head  Tavern  "  is  shown 
in  La  Serre's  print,  "  Entree  de  la  Reyne  Mere 
du  Roy,"  1638,  of  which  we  gave  a  copy  on 
page  307  of  this  work. 

"  The  confirmation,"  says  Strype,  "was  performed 
three  days  after  the  Queen's  letters  commissional 
above-said ;  that  is,  on  the  9th  day  of  December, 
in  the  Church  of  St.  Mary  de  Arsubus  (i.e.  Mary- 
le-Bow,  in  Cheapside),  regularly,  and  according  to 
the  usual  custom  ;  and  then  after  this  manner  : — 
First,  John  Incent,  public  notary,  appeared  per- 
sonally, and  presented  to  the  Right  Reverend  the 
Commissaries,  appointed  by  the  Queen,  her  said 
letters  to  them  directed  in  that  behalf;  humbly 
praying  them  to  take  upon  them  the  execution  of 
the  said  letters,  and  to  proceed  according  to  the 
contents  thereof,  in  the  said  business  of  confirma- 
tion. And  the  said  notary  public  publicly  read 
the  Queen's  commissional  letters.  Then,  out  of 
the  reverence  and  honour  those  bishops  present 
(who  were  Barlow,  Story,  Coverdale,  and  the 
suffragan  of  Bedford),  bore  to  her  Majesty,  they 
took  upon  them  the  commission,  and  accordingly 
resolved  to  proceed  according  to  the  form,  power, 
and  effect  of  the  said  letters.  Next,  the  notary 
exhibited  his  proxy  for  the  Dean  and  Chapter  of 
the  Metropolitan  Church,  and  made  himself  a  party 
for  them  ;  and,  in  the  procuratorial  name  of  the 
said  Dean  and  Chapter,  presented  the  venerable  Mr. 
Nicolas  BuUingham,  LL.D.,  and  placed  him  before 


;4o 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheapside. 


the  said  commissioners ;  who  then  exhibited  his 
proxy  for  the  said  elect  of  Canterbury,  and  made 
himself  a  party  for  him.  Then  the  said  notary 
exhibited  the  original  citatory  mandate,  together 
with  the  certificate  on  the  back  side,  concerning 
the  execution  of  the  same ;  and  then  required  all 
and  singular  persons  cited,  to  be  publicly  called. 
And  consequently  a  threefold  proclamation  was 
made,  of.  all  and  singular  opposers,  at  the  door 
of  the  parochial  church  aforesaid ;  and  so  as  is 
customary  in  these  cases. 

"  Then,  at  the  desire  of  the  said  notary  to  go  on 
in  this  business  of  confirmation,  they,  the  commis- 
sioners, decreed  so  to  do,  as  was  more  fully  con- 
tained in  a  schedule  read  by  Bishop  Barlow,  with 
the  consent  of  his  colleagues.  It  is  too  long  to 
relate  distinctly  every  formal  proceeding  in  this 
business ;  only  it  may  be  necessary  to  add  some 
few  of  the  most  material  passages. 

"Then  followed  the  deposition  of  witnesses  con- 
cerning the  life  and  actions,  learning  and  abilities 
of  the  said  elect ;  his  freedom,  his  legitimacy,  his 
priesthood,  and  such  like.  One  of  the  witnesses 
was  John  Baker,  of  thirty-nine  years  old,  gent.,  who 
is  said  to  sojourn  for  the  present  with  the  vererable 
Dr.  Parker,  and  to  be  bom  in  the  parish  of  St. 
Clement's,  in  Norwich.  He,  among  other  things, 
witnessed,  '  That  the  same  reverend  father  was  and 
is  a  prudent  man,  commended  for  his  knowledge  of 
sacred  Scripture,  and  for  his  life  and  manners. 
That  he  was  a  freeman,  and  born  in  lawful  matri- 
mony ;  that  he  was  in  lawful  age,  and  in  priest's 
orders,  and  a  faithful  subject  to  the  Queen;'  and 
the  said  Baker,  in  giving  the  reason  of  his  know- 
ledge in  this  behalf,  said,  '  That  he  was  the  natural 
brother  of  the  Lord  Elect,  and  that  they  were  born 
ex  unis parentihis  '  (or  rather,  surely,  ex  una  parente, 
i.e.,  of  one  mother).  William  Tolwyn,  M.A.,  aged 
seventy  years,,  and  rector  of  St.  Anthony,  London, 
was  another  witness,  who  had  known  the  said 
elect  thirty  years,  and  knew  his  mother,  and  that 
he  was  still  very  well  acquainted  with  him,  and 
of  his  certain  knowledge  could  testify  all  above 
said. 

*'  The  notary  exhibited  the  process  of  the  election 
by  the  Dean  and  Chapter ;  which  the  commissioners 
did  take  a  diligent  view  of,  and  at  last,  in  the  con- 
clusion of  this  affair,  the  commissioners  decreed 
the  said  most  reverend  lord  elected  and  presently 
confirmed,  should  receive  his  consecration ;  and 
committed  to  him  the  care,  rule,  and  administra- 
tion, both  of  the  temporals  and  spirituals  of  the 
said  archbishopric ;  and  decreed  him  to  be  inducted 
into  the  real,  actual,  and  corporal  possession  of  the 
same  archbishopric. 


"  After  many  years  the  old  story  is  ventured 
again  into  the  world,  in  a  book  printed  at  Douay, 
anno  1654,  wherein  they  thus  tell  their  tale.  'I 
know  they  {i.e.,  the  Protestants)  have  tried  many 
ways,  and  feigned  an  old  record  (meaning  the 
authentic  register  of  Archbishop  Parker)  to  prove 
their  ordination  from  Catholic  bishops.  But  it 
was  false,  as  I  have  received  from  two  certain 
witnesses.  The  former  of  them  was  Dr.  Darby- 
shire,  then  Dean  of  St.  Paul's  (canon  there,  perhaps, 
but  never  dean),  and  nephew  to  Dr.  Boner,  Bishop 
of  London ;  who  almost  sixty  years  since  lived  at 
Meux  Port,  then  a  holy,  religious  man  (a  Jesuit), 
very  aged,  but  perfect  in  sense  and  memory,  who, 
speaking  what  he  knew,  affirmed  to  myself  and 
another  with  me,  that  like  good  fellows  they  made 
themselves  bishops  at  an  inn,  because  they  could  get  no 
true  bishops  to  consecrate  them.  My  other  witness 
was  a  gentleman  of  honour,  worth,  and  credit, 
dead  not  many  years  since,  whose  father,  a  chief 
judge  of  this  kingdom,  visiting  Archbishop  Heath, 
saw  a  letter,  sent  from  Bishop  Boner  out  of 
the  Marshalsea,  by  one  of  his  chaplains,  to  the 
archbishop,  read,  while  they  sat  at  dinner  together ; 
wherein  he  merrily  related  the  manner  how  these 
new  bishops  (because  he  had  dissuaded  Ogelthorp, 
Bishop  of  Carlisle,  from  doing  it  in  his  diocese) 
ordained  one  another  at  an  inn,  where  they  met 
together.  And  while  others  laughed  at  this  new 
manner  of  consecrating  bishops,  the  archbishop 
himself,  gravely,  and  not  without  tears,  expressed 
his  grief  to  see  such  a  ragged  company  of  men 
come  poor  out  of  foreign  parts,  and  appointed  to 
succeed  the  old  clergy.' 

"  Which  forgery,  when  once  invented,  was  so 
acceptable  to  the  Romanists,  that  it  was  most 
confidently  repeated  again  in  an  English  book, 
printed  at  Antwerp,  1658,  permissione  superiorum, 
being  a  second  edition,  licensed  by  Gulielmo 
Bolognimo,  where  the  author  sets  down  his  story 
in  these  words  : — '  The  heretics  who  were  named 
to  succeed  in  the  other  bishops'  sees,  could  not 
prevail  with  Llandaff  (whom  he  calls  a  little  before 
an  old  simple  fttafi)  to  consecrate  them  at  the  "  Nag's 
Head,"  in  Cheapside,  where  they  appointed  to 
meet  him.  And  therefore  they  made  use  of  Story, 
who  was  never  ordained  bishop,  though  he  bore 
the  name  in  King  Edward's  reign.  Kneeling 
before  him,  he  laid  the  Bible  upon  their  heads  or 
shoulders,  and  bid  them  rise  up  and  preach  the 
word  of  God  sincerely.  'This  is,' added  he,  'so 
evident  a  truth,  that  for  the  space  of  fifty  years  no 
Protestant  durst  contradict  it. ' " 

"  The  form  adopted  at  the  confirmation  of  Arch- 
bishop Parker,"  say^  Dr.  Pusey  in  9,  letter  dated 


Cheapside.  ] 


A  POET  AND  A  PRINCE  IN   CHEAPSIDE. 


34* 


1865,  quoted  by  Mr.  Timbs,  "was  carefully  framed 
on  the  old  form  used  in  the  confirmations  by 
Archbishop  Chichele  (which  was  the  point  for 
which  I  examined  the  registers  in  the  Lambeth 
library).  The  words  used  in  the  consecration  of 
the  bishops  confirmed  by  Chichele  do  not  occur 
in  the  registers.  The  words  used  by  the  conse- 
crators  of  Parker,  '  Accipe  Spiritum  sanctum,'  were 
read  in  the  later  pontificals,  as  in  that  of  Exeter, 
Lacy's  (Mask ell's  '  Monumenta  Ritualia,'  iii.  258). 
Roman  Catholic  writers  admit  that  only  is  essen- 
tial to  consecration  which  the  English  service-book 
retained — prayer  during  the  service,  which  should 
have  reference  to  the  office  of  bishop,  and  the 
imposition  of  hands.  And,  in  fact,  Cardinal  Pole 
engaged  to  retain  in  their  orders  those  who  had 
been  so  ordained  under  Edward  VI.,  and  his  act 
was  confirmed  by  Paul  IV."  (Sanders,  De  Schism. 
Augl.,  1.  iii.  350.) 

The  house  No.  73,  Cheapside,  shown  in  our 
illustration  on  page  343,  was  erected,  from  the 
design  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren,  for  Sir  William 
Turner,  Knight,  who  served  the  office  of  Lord 
Mayor  in  the  year  1668-9,  and  here  he  kept  his 
mayoralty. 

At  the  "Queen's  Arms  Tavern,"  No.  71,  Cheap- 
side,  the  poet  Keats  once  lived.  The  second  floor 
of  the  house  which  stretches  over  the  passage 
leading  to  this  tavern  was  his  lodging.  Here, 
says  Cunningham,  he  wrote  his  magnificent  sonnet 
on  Chapman's  "  Homer,"  and  all  the  poems  in  his 
first  little  volume.  Keats,  the  son  of  a  livery- 
stable  keeper  in  Moorfields,  was  born  in  1795,  ^"^l 
died  of  consumption  at  Rome  in  1821.  He  pub- 
lished his  "Endymion"  (the  inspiration  suggested 
from  Lempriere  alone)  in  1818.  We  annex  the 
glorious  sonnet  written  within  sound  of  Bow 
bells  :— 

ON   FIRST   LOOKING  INTO   CHAPMAN's    "  HOMER." 

"  Much  have  I  travell'd  in  the  realms  of  gold, 

And  many  goodly  states  and  kingdoms  seen ; 

Round  many  western  islands  have  I  been, 
Which  bards,  in  fealty  to  Apollo,  hold. 
Oft  of  one  wide  expanse  had  I  been  told 

That  deep-brow'd  Homer  ruled  as  his  demesne  ; 

Yet  did  I  never  breathe  its  pure  serene 
Till  I  heard  Chapman  speak  out  loud  and  bold  ; 
Then  felt  I  like  some  watcher  of  the  skies 

When  a  new  planet  swims  into  his  ken  ; 
Or  like  stout  Cortez  when  with  eagle  eyes 

He  stared  at  the  Pacific — and  all  his  men 
Look'd  at  each  other  with  a  wild  surmise — 

Silent,  upon  a  peak  in  Darien." 

Behnes'  poor  bald  statue  of  Sir  Robert  Peel,  in 
the  Paternoster  Row  end  of  Cheapside,  was  un- 
covered July  2ist,  1855.  The  Builder  at  the  time 
justly  lamented  that  so  much  good  metal  was 


wasted.  The  statue  is  without  thought — the  head 
is  set  on  the  neck  awkwardly,  the  pedestal  is  sense- 
less, and  the  two  double  lamps  at  the  side  are 
mean  and  paltry. 

Saddlers'  Hall  is  close  to  Foster  Lane,  Cheapside. 
"  Near  unto  this  lane,"  says  Strype,  "  but  in  Cheap- 
side,  is  Saddlers'  Hall — a  pretty  good  building, 
seated  at  the  upper  end  of  a  handsome  alley,  near 
to  which  is  Half  Moon  Alley,  which  is  but  small, 
at  the  upper  end  of  which  is  a  tavern,  which  gives 
a  passage  into  Foster  Lane,  and  another  into 
Gutter  Lane." 

"This  appears,"  says  Maitland,  "to  be  a  fraternity 
of  great  antiquity,  by  a  convention  agreed  upon 
between  them  and  the  Dean  and  Chapter  of  St. 
Martin's-le-Grand,  about  the  reign  of  Richard  I., 
at  which  time  I  imagine  it  to  have  been  an  Adul- 
terine Guild,  seeing  it  was  only  incorporated  by 
letters  patent  of  Edward  I.,  by  the  appellation  of 
'The  Wardens,  or  Keepers  and  Commonalty  of 
the  Mystery  or  Art  of  Sadlers,  London.'  This 
company  is  governed  by  a  prime  and  three  other 
wardens,  and  eighteen  assistants,  with  a  livery  of 
seventy  members,  whose  fine  of  admission  is  ten 
pounds.*  At  the  entrance  is  an  ornamental  door- 
case, and  an  iron  gate,  and  it  is  a  very  complete 
building  for  the  use  of  such  a  company.  It  is 
adorned  with  fret-work  and  wainscot,  and  the  Com- 
pany's arms  are  carved  in  stone  over  the  gate  next 
the  street." 

In  1736,  Prince  Frederick  of  Wales,  that  hope- 
less creature,  being  desirous  of  seeing  the  Lord 
Mayor's  show  privately,  visited  the  City  in  dis- 
guise. At  that  time  it  was  the  custom  for  several 
of  the  City  companies,  particularly  for  those  who 
had  no  barges,  to  have  stands  erected  in  the 
streets  through  which  the  Lord  Mayor  passed  on 
his  return  from  Westminster,  in  which  the  freemen 
of  companies  were  accustomed  to  assemble.  It 
happened  that  his  Royal  Highness  was  discovered 
by  some  of  the  Saddlers'  Company,  in  consequence 
of  which  he  was  invited  to  their  stand,  which 
invitation  he  accepted,  and  the  parties  were  so  well 
pleased  with  each  other  that  his  Royal  Highness 
was  soon  after  chosen  Master  of  the  Company,  a 
compliment  which  he  also  accepted.  The  City  on 
that  occasion  formed  a  resolution  to  compliment 
his  Royal  Highness  with  the  freedom  of  London, 
pursuant  to  which  the  Court  of  Lord  Mayor  and 
Aldermen  att'.nded    the    prince,  on   the  17th   of 

*  I  regret  that,  relying  upon  authorities  which  are  not  corrected  up 
to  the  present  date,  I  was  led  into  some  errors  in  my  account  of  the 
Stationers'  Company  on  pp.  229—233  of  this  work.  The  table  of 
planetary  influences  has  been  for  several  years  discontinued  in  Moore'.l 
Almanack  ;  and  the  Company  are  not  entitled  to  receive  for  themselVs* 
any  copies  of  new  books.— W,  T.  • 


342 


OLD  AND  NEW  LOiN'DOiM. 


[Cheap«id«. 


December,   with  the  said  freedom,  ef  which  the 
following  is  a  copy  : — 

"The  most  high,  most  potent,  and  most  illus- 
trious Prince  Frederick  Lewis,  Prince  of  Great 
Britain,  Electoral  Prince  of  Brunswick-Lunenburg, 


Prince   of  Wales,    Duke    of  Cornwall,    Duke    of    of  Saddler's  Hall 


of  the  Saddlers,  in  the  time  of  the  Right  Honourable 
Sir  John  Thompson,  Knight,  Lord  Mayor,  and 
John  Bosworth,  Esq.,  Chamberlain  of  the  said 
City."  In  his  "  Industry  and  Idleness,"  Hogarth 
shows  us  the  prince  and  princess  on  the  balcony 


BOW  CHURCH,   CHEAPSIDE.     {Frovi  a  virw  taken  about  il^o) 


Rothsay,  Duke  of  Edinburgh,  Marquis  of  the  Isle 
of  f^ly,  Earl  of  Eltham,  Earl  of  Chester,  Viscount 
Launceston,  Baron  of  Renfrew,  Baron  of  Snowdon, 
Lord  of  the  Isles,  Steward  of  Scotland,  Knight  of 
the  most  noble  Order  of  the  Garter,  and  one  of  his 
Majesty's  most  honourable  Privy  Council,  of  his 
mere  grace  and  princely  favour,  did  the  most 
august  City  of  London  the  honour  to  accept  the 
freedom  thereof,  and  was  admitted  of  the  Company 


That  dull  poet,  worthy  Sir  Richard  Blackmore, 
whom  Locke  and  Addison  praised  and  Drydcn 
ridiculed,  lived  either  at  Saddlers'  Hall  or  just 
opposite.  It  was  on  this  weariful  Tupper  of  his 
day  that  Garth  wrote  these  verses  : — 

"  Unwieldy  pedant,  let  thy  awkward  muse, 
With  censures  praise,  with  flatteries  abuse. 
To  lash,  and  not  be  felt,  in  thee's  an  art ; 
Thou  ne'er  mad'st  any  but  thy  schoolboys  smart. 


dheapfidc] 


A  CHEAPSIDE  ART  PATRON. 


343 


Then  be  advis'd,  and  scribble  not  agen  ; 
Thou'rt  fashioned  for  a  flail,  and  not  a  pen. 

If  B I's  immortal  wit  thou  wouldst  descry, 

Pretend  'tis  he  that  writ  thy  poetry. 

Thy  feeble  satire  ne'er  can  do  him  wrong  ; 

Thy  poems  and  thy  patients  live  not  long. " 


verses  in  his  carriage,  as  he  drove  to  visit  his 
patients,  a  feat  to  which  Dryden  alludes  when  he 
talks  of  Blackmore  writing  to  the  "  rumbling  of  his 
carriage- wheels." 

At  No.  90,  Cheapside  lived  Alderman  Boydell, 


NO.  73,  CHEAPSIDE  {see  page  341).     {From  an  old  View.) 


And  some  other  satirical  verses  on  Sir  Richard 
began : — 

"  'Twas  kindly  done  of  the  good-natured  cits. 
To  place  before  thy  door  a  brace  of  tits. " 

Blackmore,  who  had  been  brought  up  as  an  attor- 
ney's clerk  and  schoolmaster,  wrote  most  of  his 


engraver  and  printseller,  a  man  who  in  his  time 
did  more  for  English  art  than  all  the  English 
monarchs  from  the  Conquest  downwards.  He  was 
apprenticed,  when  more  than  twenty  years  old, 
to  Mr.  Tomson,  engraver,  and  soon  felt  a  desire 
to  popularise  and  extend  the  art.     His  first  funds 


544 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDO^t. 


[Cheapslde, 


he  derived  from  the  sale  of  a  book  of  152  humble 
prints,  engraved  by  himself.  With  the  profits  he 
was  enabled  to  pay  the  best  engravers  liberally,  to 
make  copies  of  the  works  of  our  best  masters. 

"The  alderman  assured  me,"  says  "Rainy  Day 
Smith,"  "  that  when  he  commenced  publishing,  he 
etched  small  plates  of  landscapes,  which  he  pro- 
duced in  plates  of  six,  and  sold  for  sixpence ;  and 
that  as  there  were  very  few  print-shops  at  that 
time  in  London,  he  prevailed  upon  the  sellers  of 
children's  toys  to  allow  his  little  books  to  be  put  in 
their  windows.  These  shops  he  regularly  visited 
every  Saturday,  to  see  if  any  had  been  sold,  and 
to  leave  more.  His  most  successful  shop  was  the 
sign  of  the  *  Cricket  Bat,'  in  Duke's  Court,  St. 
Martin's  Lane,  where  he  found  he  had  sold  as 
many  as  came  to  five  shillings  and  sixpence.  With 
this  success  he  was  so  pleased,  that,  wishing  to 
invite  the  shopkeeper  to  continue  in  his  interest, 
he  laid  out  the  money  in  a  silver  pencil-case ; 
which  article,  after  he  had  related  the  above  anec- 
dote, he  took  out  of  his  pocket  and  assured  me  he 
never  would  part  with.  He  then  favoured  me  with 
the  following  history  of  Woollett's  plate  of  the 
'  Niobe,'  and,  as  it  is  interesting,  I  shall  endeavour 
to  relate  it  in  Mr.  Boydell's  own  words  : — 

" '  When  I  got  a  little  forward  in  the  world,' 
said  the  venerable  alderman,  '  I  took  a  whole  shop, 
for  at  my  commencement  I  kept  only  half  a  one. 
In  the  course  of  one  year  I  imported  numerous 
impressions  of  Vernet's  celebrated  "Storm,"  so 
admirably  engraved  by  Lerpiniere,  for  which  I  was 
obliged  to  pay  in  hard  cash,  as  the  French  took 
none  of  our  prints  in  return.  Upon  Mr.  Wool- 
lett's expressing  himself  highly  delighted  with  the 
"Storm,"  I  was  induced,  knowing  his  ability  as  an 
engraver,  to  ask  him  if  he  thought  he  could  pro- 
duce a  print  of  the  same  size  which  I  could  send 
over,  so  that  in  future  I  could  avoid  payment  in 
money,  and  prove  to  the  French  nation  that  an 
Englishman  could  produce  a  print  of  equal  merit ; 
upon  which  he  immediately  declared  that  he  should 
like  much  to  try. 

"  *  At  this  time  the  principal  conversation  among 
artists  was  upon  Mr.  Wilson's  grand  picture  of 
"  Niobe,"  which  had  just  arrived  from  Rome.  I 
therefore  immediately  applied  to  his  Royal  High- 
ness the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  its  owner,  and  pro- 
cured permission  for  Woollett  to  engrave  it.  But 
before  he  ventured  upon  the  task,  I  requested  to 
know  what  idea  he  had  as  to  the  expense,  and  after 
some  consideration,  he  said  he  thought  he  could 
engrave  it  for  one  hundred  guineas.  This  sum, 
small  as  it  may  now  appear,  was  to  me,'  observed 
the  alderman,  *  an   unheard-of  price,   being  con- 


siderably more  than  I  had  given  for  any  copper- 
plate. However,  serious  as  the  sum  was,  I  bade 
him  get  to  work,  and  he  proceeded  with  all  cheer- 
fulness, for  as  he  went  on  I  advanced  him  money ; 
and  though  he  lost  no  time,  I  found  that  he  had 
received  nearly  the  whole  amount  before  he  had 
half  finished  his  task.  I  frequently  called  upon 
him,  and  found  him  struggling  with  serious  diffi- 
culties, with  his  wife  and  family,  in  an  upper 
lodging  in  Green's  Court,  Castle  Street,  Leicester 
Square,  for  there  he  lived  before  he  went  into 
Green  Street.  However,  I  encouraged  him  by 
allowing  him  to  draw  on  me  to  the  extent  of 
twenty-five  pounds  more ;  and  at  length  that  sum 
was  paid,  and  I  was  unavoidably  under  the  neces- 
sity of  saying,  "Mr.  Woollett,  I  find  we  have 
made  too  close  a  bargain  with  each  other.  You 
have  exerted  yourself,  and  I  fear  I  have  gone 
beyond  my  strength,  or,  indeed,  what  I  ought  to 
have  risked,  as  we  neither  of  us  can  be  aware  of 
the  success  of  the  speculation.  However,  I  am 
determined,  whatever  the  event  may  be,  to  enable 
you  to  finish  it  to  your  wish — at  least,  to  allow 
you  to  work  upon  it  as  long  as  another  twenty- 
five  pounds  can  extend,  but  there  we  must  posi- 
tively stop."  The  plate  was  finished ;  and,  after 
taking  very  few  proofs,  I  published  the  print  at 
five  shillings,  and  it  succeeded  so  much  beyond 
my  expectations,  that  I  immediately  employed  Mr. 
Woollett  upon  another  engraving,  from  another 
picture  by  Wilson  ;  and  I  am  now  thoroughly  con- 
vinced that  had  I  continued  publishing  subjects  of 
this  description,  my  fortune  would  have  been  in- 
creased tenfold.' " 

"  In  the  year  1786,"  says  Knowles,  in  his  "  Life 
of  Fuseli,"  "  Mr.  Alderman  Boydell,  at  the  sug- 
gestion of  Mr.  George  Nicol,  began  to  form  his 
splendid  collection  of  modern  historical  pictures, 
the  subjects  being  from  Shakespeare's  plays,  and 
which  was  called  '  The  Shakespeare  Gallery.'  This 
liberal  and  well-timed  speculation  gave  great  energy 
to  this  branch  of  the  art,  as  well  as  employment  to 
many  of  our  best  artists  and  engravers,  and  among 
the  former  to  Fuseli,  who  executed  eight  large  and 
one  small  picture  for  the  gallery.  The  following 
were  the  subjects  :  'Prospero,' '  Miranda,'  'Caliban,' 
and  '  Ariel,'  from  the  Tempest ;  '  Titania  in  raptures 
with  Bottom,  who  wears  the  ass's  head,  attendant 
fairies,  &c. ;'  '  Titania  awaking,  discovers  Oberon 
at  her  side,  Puck  is  removing  the  ass's  head  from 
Bottom '  {Midsiim^ner  Nighfs  Dream)  ;  '  Henry  V, 
with  the  Conspirators'  {King  Henry  V.) ;  '  Lear 
dismissing  Cordelia  from  his  Court'  {King Lear)  ; 
'  Ghost  of  Hamlet's  Father '  {Hamlet) ;  *  FalstafF 
and  Doll '  {King  Henry  JV.,  Second  Fart) ;  '  Mac- 


Cheapside.] 


MR.  ALDERMAN  BOYDELL. 


345 


l>eth  meeting  the  Witches  on  the  Heath'  {Macbeth) ; 
'  Robin  Goodfellow '  {Midsimimer  Ntghfs  Dream). 
This  gallery  gave  the  public  an  opportunity  of 
judging  of  Fuseli's  versatile  powers. 

"  The  stately  majesty  of  the  '  Ghost  of  Hamlet's 
Father'  contrasted  with  the  expressive  energy  of 
his  son,  and  the  sublimity  brought  about  by  the 
light,  shadow,  and  general  tone,  strike  the  mind 
with  awe.  In  the  picture  of  '  Lear '  is  admirably 
portrayed  the  stubborn  rashness  of  the  father,  the 
filial  piety  of  the  discarded  daughter,  and  the 
wicked  determination  of  Regan  and  Goneril.  The 
fairy  scenes  in  Midsummer  Night's  Dream  amuse 
the  fancy,  and  show  the  vast  inventive  powers  of 
the  painter ;  and  '  Falstafif  with  Doll '  is  exquisitely 
ludicrous. 

"  The  example  set  by  Boydell  was  a  stimulus  to 
other  speculators  of  a  similar  nature,  and  within  a 
few  years  appeared  the  Macklin  and  Woodmason 
galleries ;  and  it  may  be  said  with  great  truth  that 
Fuseli's  pictures  were  among  the  most  striking,  if 
not  the  best,  in  either  collection," 

"a.d.  1787,"  says  Northcote,  in  his  "Life  of 
Reynolds,"  "when  Alderman  Boydell  projected  the 
scheme  of  his  magnificent  edition  of  the  plays  of 
Shakespeare,  accompanied  with  large  prints  from 
pictures  to  be  executed  by  English  painters,  it  was 
deemed  to  be  absolutely  necessary  that  something 
of  Sir  Joshua's  painting  should  be  procured  to  grace 
the  collection ;  but,  unexpectedly,  Sir  Joshua  ap- 
peared to  be  rather  shy  in  the  business,  as  if  he 
thought  it  degrading  himself  to  paint  for  a  print- 
seller,  and  he  would  not  at  first  consent  to  be 
employed  in  the  work.  George  Stevens,  the  editor 
of  Shakespeare,  now  undertook  to  persuade  him  to 
comply,  and,  taking  a  bank-bill  of  five  hundred 
pounds  in  his  hand,  he  had  an  interview  with  Sir 
Joshua,  when,  using  all  his  eloquence  in  argument, 
he,  in  the  meantime,  slipped  the  bank-bill  into  his 
hand  ;  he  then  soon  found  that  his  mode  of  reasoning 
was  not  to  be  resisted,  and  a  picture  was  promised. 
Sir  Joshua  immediately  commenced  his  studies, 
and  no  less  than  three  paintings  were  exhibited  at 
the  Shakspeare  Gallery,  or  at  least  taken  from  that 
poet,  the  only  ones,  as  has  been  very  correctly  said, 
which  Sir  Joshua  ever  executed  for  his  illustration, 
with  the  exception  of  a  head  of  '  King  Lear '  (done 
indeed  in  1783),  and  now  in  possession  of  the  Mar- 
chioness of  Thomond,  and  a  portrait  of  the  Hon. 
Mrs.  ToUemache,  in  the  character  of  '  Miranda,'  in 
The  Tempest,  in  which  *  Prospero '  and  *  Caliban '  are 
introduced. 

"  One  of  these  paintings  for  the  Gallery  was 
*  Puck,'  or  '  Robin  Goodfellow,'  as  it  has  been 
called,  which,  in  point  of  expression  and  animation, 


is  unparalleled,  and  one  of  the  happiest  efforts  of  Sir 
Joshua's  pencil,  though  it  has  been  said  by  some 
cold  critics  not  to  be  perfectly  characteristic  of  the 
merry  wanderer  of  Shakespeare.  '  Macbeth,'  with 
the  witches  and  the  caldron,  was  another,  and  for 
this  last  Mr.  Boydell  paid  him  1,000  guineas;  but 
who  is  now  the  possessor  of  it  I  know  not. 

*"Puck'  was  painted  in  1789.  Walpole  depreciates 
it  as  '  an  ugly  Httle  imp  (but  with  some  character) 
sitting  on  a  mushroom  half  as  big  as  a  mile-stone.' 
Mr.  Nicholls,of  the  British  Institution,  related  to  Mr, 
Cotton  that  the  alderman  and  his  grandfather  were 
with  Sir  Joshua  when  painting  the  death  of  Cardinal 
Beaufort.  Boydell  was  much  taken  with  the  portrait 
of  a  naked  child,  and  wished  it  could  be  brought 
into  the  Shakspeare.  Sir  Joshua  said  it  was  painted 
from  a  little  child  he  found  sitting  on  his  steps  in 
Leicester  Square.  Nicholls'  grandfather  then  said, 
'Well,  Mr.  Alderman,  it  can  very  easily  come  into 
the  Shakspeare  if  Sir  Joshua  will  kindly  place  him 
upon  a  mushroom,  give  him  fawn's  ears,  and  make 
a  Puck  of  him,'  Sir  Joshua  liked  the  notion,  and 
painted  the  picture  accordingly. 

"  The  morning  of  the  day  on  which  Sir  Joshua's 
'Puck'  was  to  be  sold,  Lord  Farnborough  and 
Davies,  the  painter,  breakfasted  with  Mr.  Rogers, 
and  went  to  the  sale  together.  When  the  picture 
was  put  up  there  was  a  general  clapping  of  hands, 
and  yet  it  was  knocked  down  to  Mr,  Rogers  for 
105  guineas.  As  he  walked  home  from  the  sale, 
a  man  carried  '  Puck '  before  him,  and  so  well  was 
the  picture  known  that  more  than  one  person, 
as  they  were  going  along  the  street,  called  out, 
'There  it  is!'  At  Mr,  Rogers'  sale,  in  1856,  it 
was  purchased  by  Earl  Fitzwilliam  for  980  guineas. 
The  grown-up  person  of  the  sitter  for  '  Puck '  was 
in  Messrs,  Christie  and  Manson's  room  during 
the  sale,  and  stood  next  to  Lord  Fitzwilliam,  who 
is  also  a  survivor  of  the  sitters  to  Sir  Joshua, 
The  merry  boy,  whom  Sir  Joshua  found  upon  his 
door-step,  subsequently  became  a  porter  at  Elliot's 
brewery,  in  Pimlico," 

In  1804,  Alderman  Boydell  applied  through  his 
friend,  Sir  John  W,  Anderson,  to  the  House  of 
Commons,  for  leave  to  dispose  of  his  paintings  and 
drawings  by  lottery.  In  his  petition  he  described 
himself,  with  modesty  and  pathos,  as  an  old  man  of 
eighty-five,  anxious  to  free  himself  from  debts  which 
now  oppressed  him,  although  he,  with  his  brethren, 
had  expended  upwards  of  ;^35o,ooo  in  promoting 
the  fine  arts.  Sixty  years  before  he  had  begun  to 
benefit  engraving  by  establishing  a  school  of  English 
engravers.  At  that  time  the  whole  print  commerce 
of  England  consisted  in  importing  a  few  foreign 
prints  (chiefly  French)  "  to  supply  the  cabinets  of 


346 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheapside. 


the  curious."  In  time  he  effected  a  total  change  in 
this  branch  of  commerce,  "  very  few  prints  being  now 
imported,  while  the  foreign  market  is  principally 
supplied  with  prints  from  England."  By  degrees, 
the  large  sums  received  from  the  Continent  for 
English  plates  encouraged  him  to  attempt  also  an 
English  school  of  pictorial  painting,  the  want  of 
such  a  school  having  been  long  a  source  of  oppro- 
brium among  foreign  writers  on  England.  1'he 
Shakespeare  Gallery  was  sufficient  to  convince  the 
world  that  English  genius  only  needed  encourage- 
ment to  obtain  a  facility,  versatility,  and  independ- 
ence of  thought  unknown  to  the  Italian,  Flemish,  or 
French  schools.  That  Gallery  he  had  long  hoped  to 
have  left  to  a  generous  public,  but  the  recent  Van- 
dalic  revolution  in  France  had  cut  up  his  revenue 
by  the  roots,  Flanders,  Holland,  and  Germany  being 
his  chief  marts.  At  the  same  time  he  acknowledged 
he  had  not  been  provident,  his  natural  enthusiasm 
for  promoting  the  fine  arts  having  led  him  after  each 
success  to  fly  at  once  to  some  new  artist  with  the 
whole  gains  of  his  former  undertaking.  He  had  too 
late  seen  his  error,  having  increased  his  stock  of 
copper-plates  to  such  a  heap  that  all  the  print-sellers 
in  Europe  (especially  in  these  unfavourable  times) 
could  not  purchase  them.  He  therefore  prayed  for 
permission  to  create  a  lottery,  the  House  having 
the  assurance  of  the  even  tenor  of  a  long  life  "  that 
it  would  be  fairly  and  honourably  conducted." 
The  worthy  man  obtained  leave  for  his  lottery, 


and  died  December  ii,  a  few  days  after  the  last 
tickets  were  sold.  He  was  buried  with  civic  state 
in  the  Church  of  St.  Olave,  Jewry,  the  Lord  Mayor, 
aldermen,  and  several  artists  attending.  Boydell 
was  very  generous  and  charitable.  He  gave 
pictures  to  adorn  the  City  Council  Chamber,  the 
Court  Room  of  the  Stationers'  Company,  and  the 
dining-room  of  the  Sessions  House.  He  was  also 
a  generous  benefactor  to  the  Humane  Society  and 
the  Literary  Fund,  and  was  for  many  years  the 
President  of  both  Societies.  The  Shakespeare 
Gallery  finally  fell  by  lottery  to  Mr.  Tassie,  the 
well-known  medallist,  who  thrived  to  a  good  old 
age  upon  the  profits  of  poor  Boydell's  too  generous 
expenditure.  This  enterprising  man  was  elected 
Aldenuan  of  Cheap  Ward  in  1782,  Sheriff  in 
1785,  and  Lord  Mayor  in  1790.  His  death  was 
occasioned  by  a  cold,  caught  at  the  Old  Bailey 
Sessions.  His  nephew,  Josiah  Boydell,  engraved 
for  him  for  forty  years. 

It  was  the  regular  custom  of  Mr.  Alderman 
Boydell  (says  "  Rainy  Day "  Smith),  who  was  a 
very  early  riser,  to  repair  at  five  o'clock  imme- 
diately to  the  pump  in  Ironmonger  Lane.  There, 
after  placing  his  wig  upon  the  ball  at  the  top, 
he  used  to  sluice  his  head  with  its  water.  This 
well  known  and  highly  respected  character  was 
one  of  the  last  men  who  wore  a  three-cornered 
hat,  commonly  called  the  "Egham,  Staines,  and 
Windsor." 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 
CHEAPSIDE    TRIBUTARIES— SOUTH. 

The  King's  Exchange— Friday  Street  and  the  Poet  Chaucer— The  Wednesday  Club  in  Friday  Street— William  Paterson,  Founder  of  the  Bank  of 
England— How  Easy  it  is  to  Redeem  the  National  Debt— St.  Matthew's  and  St.  Margaret  Moses— Bread  Street  and  the  Bakers'  Shops— 
St.  Austins,  Watling  Street— The  Fraternity  of  St.  Austin's— St.  Mildred's,  Bread  Street— The  Mitre  Tavern— A  Priestly  Duel— Milton's 
Birth-place— The  "  Mermaid  "—Sir  Walter  Raleigh  and  the  Mermaid  Club— Thomas  Coryatt,  the  Traveller— Bow  Lane— Queen  Street— 
Sop«r's  Lane— A  Mercer  Knight— St.  Bennet  Sherehog— Epitaphs  in  the  Church  of  St.  Thomas  Apostle— A  Charitable  Merchant. 


Old  Change  was  formerly  the  old  Exchange, 
so  called  from  the  King's  Exchange,  says  Stow, 
there  kept,  which  was  for  the  receipt  of  bullion  to 
be  coined. 

The  King's  Exchange  was  in  Old  Exchange,  now 
Old  'Change,  Cheapside.  "  It  was  here,"  says  Tite, 
"  that  one  of  those  ancient  officers,  known  as  the 
King's  Exchanger,  was  placed,  whose  duty  it  was 
to  attend  to  the  supply  of  the  mints  with  bullion, 
to  distribute  the  new  coinage,  and  to  regulate  the 
exchange  of  foreign  coin.  Of  these  officers  there 
were  anciently  three— two  in  London,  at  the  Tower 
and  Old  Exchange,  and  one  in  the  city  of  Canter- 


bury. Subsequently  another  was  appointed,  with 
an  establishment  in  Lombard  Street,  the  ancient 
rendezvous  of  the  merchants ;  and  it  appears  not 
improbable  that  Queen  Elizabeth's  intention  was 
to  have  removed  this  functionary  to  what  was 
pre-eminently  designated  by  her  '  The  Royal  Ex- 
change,' and  hence  the  reason  for  the  change  of 
the  name  of  this  edifice  by  Elizabeth." 

*'  In  the  reign  of  Henry  VII.,"  says  Francis,  in 
his  "History  of  the  Bank  of  England,"  "the  Royal 
prerogative  forbade  English  coins  to  be  exported, 
and  the  Royal  Exchange  was  alone  entitled  to  give 
native  money  for  foreign  coin  or  bullion.     During 


Cheapside.] 


CHAUCER'S  EVIDENCE. 


347 


the  reign  of  Henry  VHI.  the  coin  grew  so  debased 
as  to  be  difficult  to  exchange,  and  the  Goldsmiths 
quietly  superseded  the  royal  officer.  In  1627 
Charles  I.,  ever  on  the  watch  for  power,  re-esta- 
blished the  office,  and  in  a  pamphlet  written  by  his 
orders,  asserted  that  '  the  prerogative  had  always 
been  a  flower  of  the  Crown,  and  that  the  Gold- 
smiths had  left  off  their  proper  trade  and  turned 
exchangers  of  plate  and  foreign  coins  for  our 
English  coins,  although  they  had  no  right.'  Charles 
entrusted  the  office  of  'changer,  exchanger,  and 
ante-changer '  to  Henry  Rich,  first  Earl  of  Holland, 
who  soon  deserted  his  cause  for  that  of  the  Parlia- 
ment. The  office  has  not  since  been  re-established." 

No,  36,  Old  'Change  was  formerly  the  "  Three 
Morrice  Dancers"  public-house,  with  the  three 
figures  sculptured  on  a  stone  as  the  sign  and  an 
ornament  {temp.  James  I.).  The  house  was  taken 
down  about  1801,  There  is  an  etching  of  this  very 
characteristic  sign  on  stone.     (Timbs.) 

The  celebrated  poet  and  enthusiast,  Lord  Her- 
bert of  Cherbury,  lived,  in  the  reign  of  James  L,  in 
a  "  house  among  gardens,  near  the  old  Exchange." 
At  the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  the  place  was 
chiefly  inhabited  by  American  merchants ;  at  this 
time  it  is  principally  inhabited  by  calico  printers 
and  Manchester  warehousemen. 

"  Friday  Street  was  so  called,"  says  Stow,  "  of 
fishmongers  dwelling  there,  and  serving  Friday's 
Market."  In  the  roll  of  the  Scrope  and  Grosvenor 
heraldic  controversy  (Edward  III.)  the  poet  Chaucer 
is  recorded  as  giving  the  following  evidence  con- 
nected with  this  street : — 

"  Geffray  Chaucere,  Esqueer,  of  the  age  of  forty 
years,  and  moreover  armed  twenty-seven  years  for 
the  side  of  Sir  Richard  Lescrop,  sworn  and  ex- 
amined, being  asked  if  the  arms,  azyure,  a  bend  or, 
belonged  or  ought  to  pertain  to  the  said  Sir  Richard 
by  right  and  heritage,  said.  Yes  ;  for  he  saw  him  so 
armed  in  Frannce,  before  the  town  of  Fetters,  and 
Sir  Henry  Lescrop  armed  in  the  same  arms  with  a 
white  label  and  with  banner;  and  the  said  Sir 
Richard  armed  in  the  entire  arms  azyure  a  bend  or, 
and  so  during  the  whole  expedition  until  the  said 
Geaffiay  was  taken.  Being  asked  how  he  knew 
that  the  said  arms  belonged  to  the  said  Sir  Richard, 
said  that  he  had  heard  old  knights  and  esquires 
say  that  they  had  had  continual  possession  of  the 
said  arms;  and  that  he  had  seen  them  displayed 
on  banners,  glass  paintings,  and  vestments,  and 
commonly  called  the  arms  of  Scrope.  Being  asked 
whether  he  had  ever  heard  of  any  interruption  or 
challenge  made  by  Sir  Robert  Grosvernor  or  his 
ancestors,  said  No ;  but  that  he  was  once  in  Friday 
Street,  London,  and  walking  up  the  street  he  ob- 


served a  new  sign  hanging  out  with  these  arms 
thereon,  and  enquired  what  inn  that  was  that  had 
hung  out  these  arms  of  Scrope  ?  And  one  answered 
him,  saying,  '  They  are  not  hung  out,  Sir,  for  the 
arms  of  Scrope,  nor  painted  there  for  those  arms, 
but  they  are  painted  and  put  there  by  a  Knight  of 
the  county  of  Chester,  called  Sir  Robert  Grosvernor.' 
And  that  was  the  first  time  he  ever  heard  speak  of 
Sir  Robert  Grosvernor  or  his  ancestors,  or  of  any 
one  bearing  the  name  of  Grosvernor."  This  is 
really  almost  the  only  authentic  scrap  we  possess 
of  the  facts  of  Chaucer's  life. 

The  "  White  Horse,"  a  tavern  in  Friday  Street, 
makes  a  conspicuous  figure  in  the  "  Merry  Con- 
ceited Jests  of  George  Peele,"  the  poet  and  play- 
writer  of  Elizabeth's  reign. 

At  the  Wednesday  Club  in  Friday  Street,  William 
Paterson,  the  founder  of  the  Bank  of  England,  and 
originator  of  the  unfortunate  Darien  scheme,  held 
his  real  or  imaginary  Wednesday  club  meetings, 
in  which  were  discussed  proposals  for  the  union  of 
England  and  Scotland,  and  the  redemption  of 
the  National  Debt,  This  remarkable  financier  was 
born  at  Lochnabar,  in  Dumfriesshire,  in  1648,  and 
died  in  17 19.  The  following  extracts  from  Pater- 
son's  probably  imaginary  conversations  are  of 
interest : — 

"  And  thus,"  says  Paterson,  '*  supposing  the 
people  of  Scotland  to  be  in  number  one  million, 
and  that  as  matters  now  stand  their  industry  yields 
them  only  about  five  pounds  per  annum  per  head, 
as  reckoned  one  with  another,  or  five  millions  yearly 
in  the  whole,  at  this  rate  these  five  millions  will  by 
the  union  not  only  be  advanced  to  six,  but  put 
in  a  way  of  further  improvement ;  and  allowing 
;^i  00,000  per  annum  were  on  this  foot  to  be  paid 
in  additional  taxes,  yet  there  would  still  remain  a 
yearly  sum  of  about  ;^9oo,ooo  towards  subsisting 
the  people  more  comfortably,  and  making  pro- 
vision against  times  of  scarcity,  and  other  accidents, 
to  which,  I  understand,  that  country  is  very  much 
exposed  (1706)." 

"  And  I  remember  complaints  of  this  kind  were 
very  loud  in  the  days  of  King  Charles  II,,"  said 
Mr.  Brooks,  ''particularly  that,  though  in  his  time 
the  public  taxes  and  impositions  upon  the  people 
were  doubled  or  trebled  to  what  they  formerly  were, 
he  nevertheless  run  at  least  a  million  in  debt." 

"  If  men  were  uneasy  with  public  taxes  and  debts 
in  the  time  of  King  Charles  II.,"  said  Mr.  May, 
"  because  then  doubled  or  trebled  to  what  they  had 
formerly  been,  how  much  more  may  they  be  so 
now,  when  taxed  at  least  three  times  more,  and  the 
public  debts  increased  from  about  one  million,  as 
you  say  they  then  were,  to  fifty  millions  or   up- 


348 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheapside. 


wards  ? .  .  .  .  and  yet  France  is  in  a  way  of  being 
entirely  out  of  debt  in  a  year  or  two." 

"  At  this  rate,"  said  Mr.  May,  "  Great  Britain  may 
possibly  be  quite  out  of  debt  in  four  or  five  years, 
or  less.  But  though  it  seems  we  have  been  at  least 
as  hasty  in  running  into  debt  as  those  in  France, 


pay  seems  to  have  sprung  up  with  Sir  Nathaniel 
Gould,  in  1725,  when  it  was  opposed. 

St.  Matthew's  was  situate  on  the  west  side  of 
Friday  Street.  The  patronage  of  it  was  in  the 
Abbot  and  Convent  of  Westminster.  This  church, 
being  destroyed  by  the  Fire  of  London,  in  1666, 


THE  DOOR  OF  SADDLEr's   HALL  {see  page  341). 


yet  would  I  by  no  means  advise  us  to  run  so  hastily 
out ;  slower  measures  will  be  juster,  and  conse- 
quently better  and  surer." 

Mr.  Pitt's  celebrated  measure  was  based  upon 
an  opinion  that  money  could  be  borrowed  with 
advantage  to  pay  the  national  debt.  Paterson  pro- 
posed to  redeem  it  out  of  a  surplus  revenue, 
administered  so  skilfully  as  to  lower  the  interest  in 
the  money  market.     The  notion  of  borroiv'mg  to 


was  handsomely  rebuilt,  and  the  parish  of  St.  Peter, 
Cheap,  thereunto  added  by  Act  of  Parliament.  The 
following  epitaph  (1583)  was  in  this  church: — 
"  Anthony  Cage  entombed  here  doth  rest,  ^ 

Whose  wisdome  still  prevail'd  the  Commonweale  J 
A  man  with  God's  good  gifts  so  greatly  blest. 
That  few  or  none  his  doings  may  impale, 
A  man  unto  the  widow  and  the  poore, 
A  comfort,  and  a  succour  evermore. 
Three  wives  he  had  of  credit  and  of  fame  ; 


Cheapside.] 


OLD   MEMORIES   OF  BREAD   STREET. 


349 


The  first  of  them,  Elizabeth  that  hight, 

Who  buried  here,  brought  to  this  Cage,  by  name, 

Seventeene  young  plants,  to  give  his  table  light." 

"At  St.  Margaret  Moyses/'  says  Stow,  "was  buried 
Mr.  Buss  (or  Briss),  a  Skinner,  one  of  the  masters 
of  the  hospital.  There  attended  all  the  masters 
of  the  hospital,  with  green  staves  in  their  hands, 
and  all  the  Company  in  their  liveries,  with  twenty 
clerks  singing  before.  The  sermon  was  preached 
by  Mr.  Jewel,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Salisbury ;  and 
therein  he  plainly  affirmed  there  was  no  purgatory. 
Thence  the  Company  retired  to  his  house  to  dinner. 
This  burial  was  an.  1559,  Jan.  30, 


records,  that  in  the  year  1302,  which  was  the  30th 
of  Edward  I.,  the  bakers  of  London  were  bound 
to  sell  no  bread  in  their  shops  or  houses,  but  in  the 
market  here ;  and  that  they  should  have  four  hall 
motes  in  the  year,  at  four  several  terms,  to  determine 
of  enormities  belonging  to  the  said  company.  Bread 
Street  is  now  wholly  inhabited  by  rich  merchants, 
and  divers  fair  inns  be  there,  for  good  receipt 
of  carriers  and  other  travellers  to  the  City,  It 
appears  in  the  will  of  Edward  Stafford,  Earl  of 
Wylshire,  dated  the  22nd  of  March,  1498,  and 
14  Henry  VII.,  that  he  lived  in  a  house  in  Bread 
Street,  in  London,  which  belonged  to  the  family  of 


milton's  house. 

The    following   epitaph   (1569)    is   worth    pre- 
serving : — 

"  Beati  mortui  qui  in  Domino  moriuntur." — Apoc.  14, 
"  To  William  Dane,  that  sometime  was 
An  ironmonger  ;  where  each  degree 
He  worthily  (with  praise)  did  passe. 
By  Wisdom,  Truth,  and  Heed,  was  he 
Advanc'd  an  Alderman  to  be  ; 
Then  Sheriffe  ;  that  he,  with  justice  prest. 
And  cost,  performed  with  the  best. 
In  almes  frank,  of  conscience  cleare  ; 
In  grace  with  prince,  to  people  glad  ; 
His  vertuous  wife,  his  faithful  peere, 
Margaret,  this  monument  hath  made  ; 
Meaning  (through  God)  that  as  shee  had 
With  him  (in  house)  long  lived  well  ; 
Even  so  in  Tombes  Blisse  to  dwell." 

"  Bread  Street,"  says  Stow,  "  is  so  called  of  bread 
there  in  old  times  then  sold ;  for  it  appeareth  by 
30 


milton's  burial-place. 

Stafford,  Duke  of  Bucks  afterwards  ;  he  bequeathed 
all  the  stuff  in  that  house  to  the  Lord  of  Bucking- 
ham, for  he  died  without  issue." 

The  parish  church  of  "  St.  Augustine,  in  Watheling 
Street"  was  destroyed  by  the  Great  Fire,  but  re- 
built in  1682.  Stow  informs  us  that  here  was  a 
fraternity  founded  a.d.  1387,  called  the  Fraternity 
of  St.  Ansthis,  in  Watling  Street,  and  other  good 
people  dwelling  in  the  City,  "  They  were,  on  the 
eve  of  St.  Austin's,  to  meet  at  the  said  church, 
in  the  morning  at  high  mass,  and  every  brother 
to  offer  a  penny.  And  after  that  to  be  ready,  al 
mangier  ou  almele;  i.e.,  to  eat  or  to  ra>e!,  accord- 
ing to  the  ordinance  of  the  master  and  wardens  of 
the  fraternity.  They  set  up  in  the  honour  of  God 
and  St.  Austin,  one  branch  of  six  tapers  in  the 
said  church,  before  the  image  of  St.  Austin;  and 


35° 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Chcapsid*. 


also  two  torches,  with  the  which,  if  any  of  the  said 
fraternity  were  commended  to  God,  he  might  be 
carried  to  the  earth.  They  were  to  meet  at  the 
vault  at  Paul's  (perhaps  St.  Faith's),  and  to  go 
thence  to  the  Church  of  St.  Austin's,  and  the 
priests  and  the  clerks  said  Placebo  and  Dilige,  and 
in  matins,  a  mass  of  requiem  at  the  high  altar." 

"  There  is  a  flat  stone,"  says  Stow,  "  in  the  south 
aisle  of  the  church.  It  is  laid  over  an  Armenian 
merchant,  of  which  foreign  merchants  there  be 
divers  that  lodge  and  harbour  in  the  Old  Change 
in  this  parish." 

St.  Mildred's,  in  Bread  Street,  was  repaired  in 
1628.  "At  the  upper  end  of  the  chancel,"  says 
Strype,  "  is  a  fine  window,  full  of  cost  and  beauty, 
which  being  divided  into  five  parts,  carries  in  the 
first  of  them  a  very  artful  and  curious  represen- 
tation of  the  Spaniard's  Great  Armado,  and  the 
battle  in  1588  ;  in  the  second,  the  monument  of 
Queen  Elizabeth  ;  in  the  third,  the  Gunpowder 
Plot ;  in  the  fourth,  the  lamentable  time  of  infec- 
tion, 1625  ;  and  in  the  fifth  and  last,  the  view  and 
lively  portraiture  of  that  worthy  gentleman,  Captain 
Nicolas  Crispe,  at  whose  sole  cost  (among  other) 
this  beautiful  piece  of  work  was  erected,  as  also  the 
figures  of  his  vertuous  wife  and  children,  with  the 
arms  belonging  to  them,"  This  church,  burnt  down 
in  the  Great  Fire,  was  rebuilt  again. 

St.  Mildred  was  a  Saxon  lady,  and  daughter  of 
Merwaldus,  a  West-Mercian  prince,  and  brother  to 
Penda,  King  of  the  Mercians,  who,  despising  the 
pomps  and  vanities  of  this  world,  retired  to  a  con- 
vent at  Hale,  in  France,  whence,  returning  to 
England,  accompanied  by  seventy  virgins,  she  was 
consecrated  abbess  of  a  new  monastery  in  the  Isle 
of  Thanet,  by  Theodore,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
where  she  died  abbess,  anno  676. 

On  the  east  side  of  Bread  Street  is  the  church 
of  AUhallows.  *'  On  the  south  side  of  the  chancel, 
in  a  little  part  of  this  church,  called  The  Salter's 
Chapel,"  says  Strype,  "is  a  very  fair  window, 
with  the  portraiture  or  figure  of  him  that  gave  it, 
very  curiously  wrought  upon  it.  This  church, 
ruined  in  the  Great  Fire,  is  built  up  again  with- 
out any  pillars,  but  very  decent,  and  is  a  lightsome 
church." 

"  In  the  22nd  of  Henry  VIII.,  the  17th  of  August, 
two  priests  of  this  church  fell  at  variance,  that  the 
one  drew  blood  of  the  other,  wherefore  the  same 
church  was  suspended,  and  no  service  sung  or 
said  therein  for  the  space  of  one  month  after;  the 
priests  were  committed  to  prison,  and  the  15  th  of 
October,  being  enjoined  penance,  they  went  at  the 
head  of  a  general  procession,  bare-footed  and 
bare-legged,  before  the  children,  with  beads  and 


books  in  their  hands,  from  Paul's,  througli  ('heap, 
Cornhill/"  &c. 

Among  the  epitaphs  the  following,  given  l)y  Stow, 
is  quaint : — ■ 

"  To  the  sacred  memory  of  that  vorthy  and  faithfull  minister 
of  Christ,  Master  Richard  Stocke  ;  who  after  32  yeeres  spent 
in  the  ministry,  wherein  by  his  learned  labours,  joined  with 
wisedome,  and  a   most  holy  life,    God's   glory   M-as  much 
advanced,  his  Churcli  edified,  piety  increased,  and  the  true 
honour  of  a  pastor's  life  maintained  ;  deceased  April  20,  1626. 
Some  of  his  loving  parishioners  have  consecrated  this  monu- 
ment of  their  never-dying  love,  Jan.  28,  1628. 
"  Thy  lifelesse  Trunke 
(O  Reverend  Stocke\ 
Like  Aaron's  rod 

Sprouts  out  againe  ; 
And  after  two 

P'ull  winters  past. 
Yields  Blossomes 

And  ripe  fruit  amaine. 
For  why,  this  work  of  piety, 

Performed  by  some  of  thy  Flocke, 
To  thy  dead  corjjs  and  sacred  urne, 
Is  but  the  fruit  of  this  old  Stocke." 

The  father  of  Milton,  the  poet,  was  a  scrivener 
in  Bread  Street,  living  at  the  sign  of  "  The  Spread 
Eagle,"  the  armorial  ensign  of  his  family.  The  first 
turning  on  the  left  hand,  as  you  enter  from  Cheap- 
side,  was  called  "  Black  Spread  Eagle  Court,"  and 
not  unlikely  from  the  family  ensign  of  the  poet's 
father.  Milton  was  born  in  this  street  (December 
9,  1608),  and  baptised  in  the  adjoining  church  of 
AUhallows,  Bread  Street,  where  the  register  of  his 
baptism  is  still  preserved.  Of  the  house  in  which 
he  resided  in  later  life,  and  the  churchyard  of  St. 
Giles,  Cripplegate,  where  he  was  buried,  we  give  a 
view  on  page  349.  Aubrey  tells  us  that  the  house 
and  chamber  in  which  the  poet  was  born  were  often 
visited  by  foreigners,  even  in  the  poet's  lifetime. 
Their  visits  must  have  taken  place  before  the  fire, 
for  the  house  was  destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire,  and 
"  Paradise  Lost "  was  published  after  it.  Spread 
Eagle  Court  is  at  the  present  time  a  warehouse- 
yard,  says  Mr.  David  Masson.  The  position  of 
a  scrivener  was  something  between  a  notary  and  a 
law  stationer. 

There  was  a  City  prison  formerly  in  Bread  Street. 
"  On  the  west  side  of  Bread  Street,"  says  Stow, 
"amongst  divers  fair  and  large  houses  for  merchants, 
and  fair  inns  for  passengers,  had  they  one  prison- 
house  pertaining  to  the  sheriffs  of  London,  called 
the  Compter,  in  Bread  Street;  but  in  1555  the 
prisoners  were  removed  from  thence  to  one  other 
new  Compter  in  Wood  Street,  provided  by  the 
City's  purchase,  and  built  for  that  purpose." 

The  "  Mermaid "  Tavern,  in  Cheapside,  about 
the  site  of  which  there  has  been  endless  contro- 
versy, stood  in  Bread  Street,  with  side  entrances,  as 


Cheapside.] 


THE   ''MERMAID   CLUB." 


351 


Mr.  Burn  has  shown,  with  admirable  clearness,  in 
Friday  Street  and  Bread  Street ;  hence  the  disputes 
of  antiquaries. 

Mr.  Burn,  in  his  book  on  "  Tokens,"  says,  "  The 
site  of  the  '  Mermaid  '  is  clearly  defined,  from  the 
circumstance  of  W.  R.,  a  haberdasher  of  small 
wares,  'twi.\t  Wood  Street  and  Milk  Street,  adopt- 
ing the  sign,  'Over  against  the  Mermaid  Tavern 
in  Cheapside.' "  The  taVern  was  destroyed  in  the 
Great  Fire. 

Here  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  is,  by  one  of  the  tradi- 
tions, said  to  have  instituted  "The  Mermaid  Club." 
Gifford,  in  his  edition  of  "  Ben  Jonson,"  has  thus 
described  the  club  : — "About  this  time  (1603) 
Jonson  probably  began  to  acquire  that  turn  for 
conviviality  for  which  he  was  afterwards  noted.  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh,  previously  to  his  unfortunate 
engagement  with  the  wretched  Cobham  and  others, 
had  instituted  a  meeting  of  beaux  csprits  at  the 
'  Mermaid,'  a  celebrated  tavern  in  Friday  Street. 
Of  this  club,  which  combined  more  talent  and 
genius  than  ever  met  together  before  or  since,  our 
author  was  a  member,  and  here  for  many  years  he 
regularly  repaired,  with  Shakespeare,  Beaumont, 
Fletcher,  Selden,  Cotton,  Carew,  Martin,  Donne, 
and  many  others,  whose  names,  even  at  this  distant 
period,  call  up  a  mingled  feeling  of  reverence  and 
respect."  But  this  is  doubted.  A  writer  in  the 
Athenceiim,  Sept.  16,  1865,  states: — "The  origin 
of  the  common  tale  of  Raleigh  founding  the  '  Mer- 
maid Club,'  of  which  Shakespeare  is  said  to  have 
been  a  member,  has  not  been  traced.  Is  it  older 
than  Gifford  ?  "  Again  : — "  Gifford's  apparent  in- 
vention of  the  '  Mermaid  Club.'  Prove  to  us  that 
Raleigh  founded  the  '  Mermaid  Club,'  that  the 
wits  attended  it  under  his  presidency,  and  you  will 
have  made  a  real  contribution  to  our  knowledge  of 
Shakespeare's  time,  even  if  you  fail  to  show  that 
our  poet  was  a  member  of  that  club."  The  tradi- 
tion, it  is  thought,  must  be  added  to  the  long  list 
of  Shakespearian  doubts. 

But  we  nevertheless  have  a  noble  record  left 
of  the  wit  combats  here  in  the  celebrated  epistle 
of  Beaumont  to  Jonson  : — 

"  Methinks  the  little  wit  I  had  is  lost 
Since  I  saw  you  ;  for  wit  is  like  a  rest 
1  leld  up  at  tennis,  which  men  do  the  best 
With  the  best  gamesters.     What  things  have  we  seen 
Done  at  the  '  Mermaid  ? '     Heard  words  that  have  been 
So  nimble,  and  so  full  of  subtle  flame, 
As  if  that  every  one  from  whence  they  came 
Had  meant  to  put  his  whole  wit  in  a  jest, 
And  had  resolved  to  live  a  fool  the  rest 
Of  his  dull  life.     Then,  when  there  hath  been  thrown 
Wit  able  enough  to  justify  the  town 
For  three  days  past — wit  that  might  warrant  be 
For  the  whole  city  to  talk  foolishly 
Till  that  were  cancelled  ;  and  when  that  was  gone, 


We  left  an  air  behind  us,  which  alone 

W^as  able  to  make  the  two  next  companies 

Right  witty  ;  though  but  downright  fools,  more  wise." 

"  Many,"  says  Fuller,  "  were  the  wit  combats 
betwixt  him  (Shakespeare)  and  Ben  Jonson,  which 
two  I  behold  like  a  Spanish  great  galleon  and  an 
English  man-of-war.  Master  Jonson  (like  the 
former)  was  built  far  higher  in  learning,  solid,  but 
slow  in  his  performances  ;  Shakespeare,  with  the 
English  man-of-war,  lesser  in  bulk,  but  lighter  in 
sailing,  could  turn  with  all  tides,  and  take  advantage 
of  all  winds,  by  the  quickness  of  his  wit  and 
invention." 

These  combats,  one  is  willing  to  think,  although 
without  any  evidence  at  all,  took  place  at  the 
"  Mermaid "  on  such  evenings  as  Beaumont  so 
glowingly  describes.  But  all  we  really  know  is 
that  Beaumont  and  Ben  Jonson  met  at  the  "  Mer- 
maid," and  Shakespeare  might  have  been  of  the 
company.  Fuller,  Mr.  Charles  Knight  reminds  us, 
was  only  eight  years  old  when  Shakespeare  died. 

John  Rastell,  the  brother-in-law  of  Sir  Thomas 
More,  was  a  printer,  living  at  the  sign  of  the  "  Mer- 
maid," in  Cheapside.  "The  Pastyme  of  the  People  " 
(folio,  1529)  is  described  as  "  breuly  copyled  and 
empryntyd  in  Chepesyde,  at  the  sygne  of  the 
'  Mearemayd,'  next  to  Pollys  (Paul's)  Gate."  Stow 
also  mentions  this  tavern  : — "  They  "  (Coppinger 
and  Arthington,  false  prophets),  says  the  historian, 
"  had  purposed  to  have  gone  with  the  like  cry  and 
proclamation,  through  other  the  chiefe  parts  of  the 
Citie;  but  the  presse  was  so  great,  as  that  they 
were  forced  to  goe  into  a  taverne  in  Cheape,  at  the 
sign  of  the  '  Mermayd,'  the  rather  because  a  gentle- 
man of  his  acquaintance  plucked  at  Coppinger, 
whilst  he  was  in  the  cart,  and  blamed  him  for  his 
demeanour  and  speeches." 

There  was  also  a  "  Mermaid  "  in  Cornhill. 

In  Bow  Lane  resided  Thomas  Coryat,  an  ec- 
centric traveller  of  the  reign  of  James  I.,  and  a 
butt  of  Ben  Jonson  and  his  brother  wits.  In  1608 
Coryat  took  a  journey  on  foot  through  France, 
Italy,  Germany,  &c.,  which  lasted  five  months, 
during  which  he  had  travelled  1,975  niiles,  more 
than  half  upon  one  pair  of  shoes,  which  were 
only  once  mended,  and  on  his  return  were  hung 
up  in  the  Church  of  Odcombe,  in  Somersetshire. 
He  published  his  travels  under  this  title,  "  Cnidities 
hastily  gobbled  up  in  Five  Months'  Travels  in 
France,  Savoy,  Italy,  Rhetia,  Helvetia,  some  parts 
of  High  Germany,  and  the  Netherlands,  161 1," 
4to  ;  reprinted  in  1776,  3  vols.,  8vo.  This  work 
was  ushered  into  the  world  by  an  "  Odcombian 
banquet,"  consisting  of  near  sixty  copies  of  verses, 
made  by  the  best  poets  of  that  time,  which,  if 
they  did  not   make   Coryat   pass  with   the  world 


352 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheapside. 


for  a  man  of  great  parts  and  learning,  contributed 
not  a  little  to  the  sale  of  his  book.  Among  these 
poets  were  Ben  Jonson,  Sir  John  Harrington,  Inigo 
Jones  (the  architect),  Chapman,  Donne,  Drayton, 
and  others. 

Parsons,  an  excellent  comedian,  also  resided  in 
Bow  Lane. 

"  A  greater  artist,"  says  Dr.  Doran,  in  "  Her 
Majesty's  Servants,"  "  than  Riddel ey  left  the  stage 
soon  after  him,  in  1795,  after  three-and-thirty  years 
of  service,  namely,  Parsons,  the  original  '  Crabtree ' 
and  '  Sir  Fretful  Plagiary,' '  Sir  Christopher  Curry,' 
'  Snarl '  to  Edwin's  '  Sheepface,'  and  '  Lope  Torry,' 

in   The   Mountaineers His  forte  lay 

in  old  men,  his  pictures  of  whom,  in  all  their 
characteristics,  passions,  infirmities,  cunning,  or 
imbecility,  was  perfect.  When  '  Sir  Sampson  Le- 
gand '  says  to  *  Foresight,'  '  Look  up,  old  star- 
gazer  !  Now  is  he  poring  on  the  ground  for  a 
crooked  pin,  or  an  old  horse-nail  with  the  head 
towards  him  !' "  we  are  told  there  could  not  be  a 
finer  illustration  of  the  character  which  Congreve 
meant  to  represent  than  Parsons  showed  at  the  time 
in  his  face  and  attitude. 

In  Queen  Street,  on  the  south  side  of  Cheapside, 
stood  Ringed  Hall,  the  house  of  the  Earls  of 
Cornwall,  given  by  them,  in  Edward  IH.'s  time,  to 
the  Abbot  of  Beaulieu,  near  Oxford.  Henry  VHL 
gave  it  to  Morgan  Philip,  alias  Wolfe.  Near  it  was 
"  Ipres  Inn,"  built  by  William  of  Ipres,  in  King 
Stephen's  time,  which  continued  in  the  same  family 
in  1377. 

Stow  says  of  Soper  Lane,  now  Queen  Street : 
— "Soper  Lane,  which  lane  took  that  name,  not 
of  soap-making,  as  some  have  supposed,  but  of 
Alleyne  le  Sopar,  in  the  ninth  of  Edward  II." 

"  In  this  Soper's  Lane,"  Strype  informs  us,  "  the 
pepperers  anciently  dwelt — wealthy  tradesmen,  who 
dealt  in  spices  and  drugs.  Two  of  this  trade  were 
divers  times  mayors  in  the  reign  of  Henry  III., 
viz.,  Andrew  Bocherel,  and  John  de  Gisorcio  or 
Gisors.  In  the  reign  of  King  Edward  II.,  ajino 
1315,  they  came  to  be  governed  by  rules  and 
orders,  which  are  extant  in  one  of  the  books  of  the 
chamber  under  this  title,  '  Ordinatio  Piperarnm 
de  Soper's  La?ie.' "  Sir  Baptist  Hicks,  Viscount 
Campden,  of  the  time  of  James  I.,  whose  name  is 
preserved  in  Hicks's  Hall,  and  Campden  Hill, 
Kensington,  was  a  rich  mercer,  at  the  sign  of  the 
"White  Bear,"  at  Soper  Lane  end,  in  Cheapside. 
Strype  says  that  "  Sir  Baptist  was  one  of  the  first 
citizens  that,  after  knighthood,  kept  their  shops, 
and,  being  charged  with  it  by  some  of  the  alder- 
men, he  gave  this  answer,  first — '  That  his  servants 
kept  the  shop,  though  he  had  a  regard  to  the  special 


credit  thereof ;  and  that  he  did  not  live  altogether 
upon  the  interest,  as  most  of  the  aldermen  did, 
laying  aside  their  trade  after  knighthood.'  " 

The  parish  church  of  St.  Syth,  or  Bennet  Shere-- 
hog,  or  Shrog,  "  seemeth,"  says  Stow,  "  to  take 
that  name  from  one  Benedict  Shorne,  some  time  a 
citizen,  and  stock-fish  monger,  of  London,  a  new 
builder,  repairer,  or  benefactor  thereof,  in  the  reign 
of  Edward  II.  ;  so  that  Shorne  is  but  corruptly 
called  Shrog,  and  more  correctly  Shorehog,  or  (as 
now)  Sherehog."  The  following  curious  epitaph 
is  preserved  by  Stow  : — 

"  Here  lieth  buried  the  body  of  Ann,  the  wife  of  John 
Fairar,  gentleman,  and  merchant  adventurer  of  this  city, 
daughter  of  Wilham  Shepheard,  of  Great  Rowlright,  in  the 
county  of  Oxenford,  Esqre.  She  departed  this  hfe  the 
twelfth  day  of  July,  An.  Dom.  1613,  being  then  about  the 
age  of  t'.venty-onc  yeeres. 

"  Here  was  a  bud, 

Beginning  for  her  May  ; 
Before  her  flower, 

Death  took  her  hence  away. 
But  for  what  cause  ? 

Tliat  friends  might  joy  the. more  ; 
Where  there  hope  is, 

She  flourisheth  now  before. 
She  is  not  lost. 

But  in  those  joyes  remaine, 
Where  friends  may  see, 

And  joy  in  her  againe. " 

"  In  the  Church  of  St.  Pancras,  Soper  Lane,  tliere 
do  lie  the  remains,"  says  Stow,  "  of  Robert  Packin- 
ton,  merchant,  slain  with  a  gun,  as  he  was  going 
to  morrow  mass  from  his  house  in  Cheape  to  St. 
Thomas  of  Aeons,  in  the  year  1536.  The  murderer 
was  never  discovered,  but  by  his  own  confession, 
made  when  he  came  to  the  gallows  at  Banbury 
to  be  hanged  for  felony." 

The  following  epitaph  is  also  worth  giving  : — 

•'  Here  lies  a  Mary,  mirror  of  her  sex, 
For  all  that  best  their  souls  or  bodies  decks. 
Faith,  form,  or  fame,  the  miracle  of  youth ; 
For  zeal  and  knowledge  of  the  sacred  truth. 
For  frequent  reading  of  the  Holy  Writ, 
For  fervent  prayer,  and  for  practice  fit. 
For  meditation  full  of  use  and  art  ; 
For  humbleness  in  habit  and  in  heart. 
P'or  pious,  prudent,  peaceful,  praiseful  life  ; 
For  all  the  duties  of  a  Christian  wife  ; 
For  patient  bearing  seven  dead-bearing  throws  ; 
For  one  alive,  which  yet  dead  with  her  goes  ; 
From  Travers,  her  dear  spouse,  her  father,  Hayes, 
Lord  maior,  more  honoured  in  her  virtuous  praise." 

"The  Church  of  St.  Thomas  Apostle  stood 
where  now  the  cemetery  is,"  says  Maitland,  "  in 
Queen  Street.  It  was  of  great  antiquity,  as  is 
manifest  by  the  state  thereof  in  the  year  1 181.  The 
parish  is  united  to  the  Church  of  St.  Mary  Alder- 
mary.    There  were  five  epitaphs  in  Greek  and  Latin 


I 


Cheapslcie. 


GOLDSMITHS*  HALL. 


353 


to  '  Katherine  Killigrew.'     The  best  is  by  Andrew 
Melvin." 

"  Of  monuments  of  antiquity  there  were  none  left 
undefaced,  except  some  arms  in  the  windows,  which 
were  supposed  to  be  the  arms  of  John  Barnes,  mercer, 
Maior  of  London  in  the  year  137 1,  a  great  builder 
thereof.  A  benefactor  thereof  was  Sir  William 
Littlesbury,  alias  Horn  (for  King  Edward  IV.  so 
named  him),  because  he  was  most  excellent  in  a 
horn.  He  was  a  salter  and  merchant  of  the  staple, 
mayor  of  London  in  1487,  and  was  buried  in  the 
church,  having  appointed,  by  his  testament,  the 
bells  to  be  changed  for  four  new  ones  of  good  tune 
and  sound  ;    but  that  was  not  performed.      He 


gave  five  hundred  marks  towards  repairing  of  high- 
ways between  London  arid  Cambridge.  His  dwel- 
ling-house, with  a  garden  and  appurtenances  in  the 
said  parish,  he  devised  to  be  sold,  and  bestowed  in 
charitable  actions.  His  house,  called  the  '  George,' 
in  Bred  Street,  he  gave  to  the  salters ;  they  to  find 
a  priest  in  the  said  church,  to  have  six  pounds 
thirteen  and  fourpence  the  year.  To  every  preacher 
at  St.  Paul's  Cross,  and  at  the  Spittle,  he  left  four- 
pence  for  ever ;  to  the  prisoners  of  Newgate,  Lud- 
gate,  from  rotation  to  King's  Bench,  in  victuals,  ten 
shillings  at  Christmas,  and  ten  shillings  at  Easter 
for  ever,"  which  legacies,  however,  it  appears,  were 
not  performed. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 
CHEAPSIDE   TRIBUTARIES,    NORTH. 

Goldsmiths'  Hall— Its  Early  Days— Tailors  and  Goldsmiths  at  Loggerheads — The  Goldsmiths'  Company's  Charters  and  Records — Their  Great 
Annual  Feast — They  receive  Queen  Margaret  of  Anjou  in  State — A  Curious  Trial  of  Skill— Civic  and  State  Duties — The  Goldsmiths  break 
up  the  Image  of  their  Patron  Saint — The  Goldsmiths'  Company's  Assays — The  Ancient  Goldsmiths'  Feasts — The  Goldsmiths  at  Work — 
Goldsmiths'  Hall  at  the  Present  Day — The  Portraits— St.  Leonard's  Church— St.  Vedast — Discovery  of  a  Stone  Coffin — Coachmakers'  Hall. 


In  Foster  Lane,  the  first  turning  out  of  Cheapside 
northwards,  our  first  visit  must  be  paid  to  the 
Hall  of  the  Goldsmiths,  one  of  the  richest,  most 
ancient,  and  most  practical  of  all  the  great  City 
companies. 

The  original  site  of  Goldsmiths'  Hall  belonged, 
in  the  reign  of  Edward  II.,  to  Sir  Nicholas  dc 
Segrave,  a  Leicestershire  knight,  brother  of  Gilbert 
de  Segrave,  Bishop  of  London.  The  date  of  the 
Goldsmiths'  first  building  is  uncertain,  but  it  is  first 
mentioned  in  their  records  in  1366  (Edward  III.). 
The  second  hall  is  supposed  to  have  been  built  by 
Sir  Dru  Barentyn,  in  1407  (Henry  IV.).  The 
Livery  Hall  had  a  bay  window  on  the  side  next 
to  Huggin  Lane ;  the  roof  was  surmounted  with 
a  lantern  and  vane ;  the  reredos  in  the  screen 
was  surmounted  by  a  silver-gilt  statue  of  St. 
Dunstan ;  and  the  Flemish  tapestry  represented 
the  story  of  the  patron  saint  of  goldsmiths.  Stow, 
writing  in  1598,  expresses  doubt  at  the  story  that 
Bartholomew  Read,  goldsmith  and  mayor  in  1502, 
gave  a  feast  there  to  more  than  100  persons,  as  the 
hall  was  too  small  for  that  purpose. 

From  1 64 1  till  the  Restoration,  Goldsmiths'  Hall 
served  as  the  Exchequer  of  the  Commonwealth. 
All  the  money  obtained  from  the  sequestration  of 
Royalists'  estates  was  here  stored,  and  then  dis- 
bursed for  State  purposes.  The  following  is  a 
description  of  the  earlier  hall : — 

"  The  buildings,"  says  Herbert,  "  were  of  a  fine 
red  brick,  and  surrounded  a  small  square  court, 


paved ;  the  front  being  ornamented  with  stone 
corners,  wrought  in  rustic,  and  a  large  arched 
entrance,  which  exhibited  a  high  pediment,  sup- 
ported on  Doric  columns,  and  open  at  the  top, 
to  give  room  for  a  shield  of  the  Company's  arms. 
The  livery,  or  common  hall,  which  was  on  the  east 
side  of  the  court,  was  a  spacious  and  lofty  apart- 
ment, paved  with  black  and  white  marble,  and 
very  elegantly  fitted  up.  The  wainscoting  was 
very  handsome,  and  the  ceiling  and  its  appendages 
richly  stuccoed — an  enormous  flower  adorning  the 
centre,  and  the  City  and  Goldsmiths'  arms,  with 
various  decorations,  appearing  in  its  other  compart- 
ments. A  richly-carved  screen,  with  composite 
pillars,  pilasters,  &c. ;  a  balustrade,  with  vases,  ter- 
minating in  branches  for  lights  (between  which 
displayed  the  banners  and  flags  used  on  public 
occasions);  and  a  beaufet  of  considerable  size, 
with  white  and  gold  ornaments,  formed  part  of  the 
embelHshments  of  this  splendid  room." 

"The  balustrade  of  the  staircase  was  elegantly 
carved,  and  the  walls  exhibited  numerous  reliefs  of 
scrolls,  flowers,  and  instruments  of  music.  The 
court-room  was  another  richly-wainscoted  apart- 
ment, and  the  ceiling  very  grand,  though,  perhaps 
somewhat  overloaded  with  embellishments.  The 
chimney-piece  was  of  statuary  marble,  and  very 
sumptuous." 

The  guild  of  Goldsmiths  is  of  extreme  antiquity, 
having  been  fined  in  i  iSo  (Henry  II.)  as  adulterine, 
that  is,  established  or  carried  on  without  the  king's 


354 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheapside. 


special  licence;  for  in  any  matter  where  fines  could 
be  extorted,  the  Norman  kings  took  a  paternal 
interest  in  the  doings  of  their  patient  subjects.  In 
1267  (Henry  IIL)  the  goldsmiths  seem  to  have 
been  infected  with  the  pugnacious  spirit  of  the  age ; 
for  we  come  upon  bands  of  goldsmiths  and  tailors 
fighting  in  London  streets,  from  some  guild  jealousy ; 


The  goldsmiths  were  incorporated  into  a  perma- 
nent company  in  the  prodigal  reign  of  Richard  II., 
and  they  no  doubt  drove  a  good  business  witli 
that  thriftless  young  Absalom,  who,  it  is  said 
wore  golden  bells  on  his  sleeves  and  baldric.  For 
ten  marks — not  a  very  tremendous  consideration, 
though  it  was,  no  doubt,  all  he  could  get — Richard's 


INTERIOR  OF  GOLDSMITH'S   HALL. 


and  500  snippers  of  cloth  meeting,  by  appointment, 
500  hammerers  of  metal,  and  having  a  comfort- 
able and  steady  fight.  In  the  latter  case  many 
were  killed  on  both  sides,  and  the  sheriff  at  last 
had  to  interpose  with  the  City's  posse  comitatus  and 
with  bows,  swords,  and  spears.  The  ringleaders 
were  finally  apprehended,  and  thirteen  of  them  con- 
demned and  executed.  In  1278  (Edward  I.)  many 
spurious  goldsmiths  were  arrested  for  frauds  in 
trade,  three  Englishmen  were  hung,  and  more  than 
a  dozen  unfortunate  Jews. 


grandfather,  that  warlike  and  chivalrous  monarch, 
Edward  III.,  had  already  incorporated  the  Com- 
pany, and  given  "the  Mystery"  of  Goldsmiths 
the  privilege  of  purchasing  in  mortmain  an  estate 
of  ^20  per  annum,  for  the  support  of  old  and  sick 
members  ;  for  these  early  guilds  were  benefit  clubs 
as  well  as  social  companies,  and  jealous  privileged 
monopolists;  and  Edward's  grant  gave  the  cor- 
poration the  right  to  inspect,  try,  and  regulate  all 
gold  and  silver  wares  in  any  part  of  Engk.no.,  with 
the   power   to   punish   all    offenders    detected    in 


Cheapside.] 


THE   GOLDSMITHS'   COMPANY. 


355 


■s 


35<^ 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheapside. 


working  adulterated  gold  and  silver.  Edward,  in 
all,  granted  four  charters  to  the  Worshipful  Com- 
pany. 

Henry  IV.,  Henry  V.,  and  Edward  IV.  both 
granted  and  confirmed  the  liberties  of  the  Compan)-. 
The  Goldsmiths'  records  commence  5th  Edward 
III.,  and  furnish  much  curious  information.  In 
this  reign  all  who  were  of  Goldsmiths'  Hall  were 
required  to  have  shops  in  Chepe,  and  to  sell  no 
silver  or  gold  vessels  except  in  Chepe  or  in  the 
King's  Exchange.  The  first  charter  complains  loudly 
of  counterfeit  metal,  of  false  bracelets,  lockets, 
rings,  and  jewels,  made  and  exported  ;  and  also  of 
vessels  of  tin  made  and  subtly  silvered  over. 

The  Company  began  humbly  enough,  and  in 
their  first  year  of  incorporation  (1335)  fourteen 
apprentices  only  were  bound,  the  fees  for  admission 
being  ss.,  and  the  pensions  given  to  twelve  per- 
sons come  to  only  j^i  i6s.  In  1343  the  number 
of  apprentices  in  the  year  rose  to  seventy-four ;  and 
in  1344  there  were  payments  for  licensing  foreign 
workmen  and  non-freemen. 

During  the  Middle  Ages  these  City  companies 
were  very  attentive  to  religious  observances,  and  the 
Wardens'  accounts  show  constant  entries  referring 
to  such  ceremonies.  Their  great  annual  feast  was 
on  St.  Dunstan's  Day  (St.  Dunstan  being  the  patron 
saint  of  goldsmiths),  and  the  books  of  expenses 
show  the  cost  of  masses  sung  for  the  Company  by 
the  chaplain,  payments  for  ringing  the  bells  at  St. 
Paul's,  for  drinking  obits  at  the  Company's  stan- 
dard at  St.  Paul's,  for  lights  kept  burning  at  St. 
James's  Hospital,  and  for  chantries  maintained  at 
the  churches  of  St.  John  Zachary  (the  Goldsmiths' 
parish  church),  St.  Peter-le-Chepe,  St.  Matthew, 
Friday  Street,  St.  Vedast,  Foster  Lane,  and  others. 

About  the  reign  of  Henry  VI.  the  records  grow 
more  interesting,  and  reflect  more  strongly  the 
social  life  of  the  times  they  note.  In  1443  we 
find  the  Company  received  a  special  letter  from 
Henry  VL,  desiring  them,  as  a  craft  which  had 
at  all  times  "notably  acquitted  themselves,"  more 
especially  at  the  king's  return  from  his  coronation 
in  Paris,  to  meet  his  queen,  Margaret  of  Anjou,  on 
her  arrival,  in  company  with  the  Mayor,  aldermen, 
and  the  other  London  crafts.  On  this  occasion  the 
goldsmiths  wore  "  bawderykes  of  gold,  short  jagged 
scarlet  hoods,"  and  each  past  Warden  or  renter 
had  his  follower  clothed  in  white,  with  a  black 
hood  and  black  felt  hat.  In  this  reign  John  Chest, 
a  goldsmith  of  Chepe,  for  slanderous  words  against 
the  Company,  was  condemned  to  come  to  Gold- 
smiths' Hall,  and  on  his  knees  ask  all  the  Company 
forgiveness  for  what  he  had  myssayde ;  and  was 
also  forbidden  to  wear  the  livery  of  the  Company 


for  a  whole  month.  Later  still,  in  this  reign,  a 
goldsmith  named  German  Lyas,  for  selling  a  tablet 
of  adulterated  gold,  was  compelled  to  give  to  the 
fraternity  a  gilt  cup,  weighing  twenty-four  ounces, 
and  to  implore  pardon  on  his  knees.  In  1458 
(Henry  VI.),  a  goldsmith  was  fined  for  giving  a 
false  return  of  broken  gold  to  a  servant  of  the 
Earl  of  Wiltshire,  who  had  brought  it  to  be  sold. 

In  the  fourth  year  of  King  Edward  IV.  a  very 
curious  trial  of  skill  between  the  jealous  English 
goldsmiths  and  their  foreign  rivals  took  place 
at  the  "  Pope's  Head "  tavern  (now  Pope's  Head 
Alley),  Cornhill.  The  contending  craftsmen  had 
to  engrave  four  puncheons  of  steel  (the  breadth  of 
a  penny  sterling)  with  cat's  heads  and  naked  figures 
in  high  relief  and  low  relief;  Oliver  Davy,  the 
Englishman,  won,  and  White  Johnson,  the  Alicant 
goldsmith,  lost  his  wager  of  a  crown  and  a  dinner 
to  the  Company.  In  this  reign  there  were  137 
native  goldsmiths  in  London,  and  41  foreigners — • 
total,  178.  The  foreigners  lived  chiefly  in  West- 
minster, Southwark,  St.  Clement's  Lane,  Abchurch 
Lane,  Brick  Lane,  and  Bearbinder  Lane. 

In  151 1  (Henry  VIII.)  the  Company  agreed  to 
send  twelve  men  to  attend  the  City  Night-watch, 
on  the  vigils  of  St.  John  Baptist,  and  St.  Peter  and 
Paul.  The  men  were  to  be  cleanly  harnessed,  to 
carry  bows  and  arrows,  and  to  be  arrayed  in  jackets 
of  white,  with  the  City  arms.  In  1540  the  Com- 
pany sent  six  of  their  body  to  fetch  in  the  new 
Queen,  Anne  of  Cleves,  "the  Flemish  mare,"  as 
her  disappointed  bridegroom  called  her.  The  six 
goldsmiths  must  have  looked  very  gallant  in  their 
black  velvet  coats,  gold  chains,  and  velvet  caps 
with  brooches  of  gold  ;  and  their  servants  in  plain 
russet  coats.  Sir  Martin  Bowes  was  the  great 
goldsmith  in  this  reign  ;  he  is  the  man  whom  Stow 
accused,  when  Lord  Mayor,  of  rooting  up  all  the 
gravestones  and  monuments  in  the  Grey  .Friars, 
and  selling  them  for  ;£s°-  He  left  almshouses  at 
Woolwich,  and  two  houses  in  Lombard  Street,  to 
the  Company. 

In  1546  (same  reign)  the  Company  sent  twenty- 
four  men,  by  royal  order,  to  the  king's  army.  They 
were  to  be  "honest,  comely,  and  well-harnessed  per- 
sons— four  of  them  bowmen,  and  twelve  billmen. 
They  were  arrayed  in  blue  and  red  (after  my  Lord 
Norfolk's  fashion),  hats  and  hose  red  and  blue,  and 
with  doublets  of  white  fustian."  This  same  year,  the 
greedy  despot  Henry  having  discovered  some  slight 
inaccuracy  in  the  assay,  contrived  to  extort  from 
the  poor  abject  goldsmiths  a  mighty  fine  of  3,000 
marks.  The  year  this  English  Ahab  died,  the 
Goldsmiths  resolved,  in  compliment  to  the  Refor- 
mation, to  break  up  the  image  of  their  patron  saint, 


Cheap-side.'] 


THE  GOLDSMITHS'  COMPANY. 


357 


and  also  a  great  standing  cup  with  an  image  of  the 
same  saint  upon  the  top.  Among  the  Company's 
plate  there  still  exists  a  goodly  cup  given  by  Sir 
Martin  Bowes,  and  which  is  said  to  be  the  same 
from  which  Queen  Elizabeth  drank  at  her  coro- 
nation. 

The  government  of  the  Company  has  been  seen 
to  have  been  vested  in  an  alderman  in  the  reign 
of  Henry  11.,  and  in  four  wardens  as  early  as 
28  I^dward  I,  The  wardens  were  divided,  at  a 
later  period,  into  a  prime  warden  (always  an  alder- 
man of  London),  a  second  warden,  and  two  renter 
wardens.  The  clerk,  under  the  name  of  "  clerk- 
comptroller,"  is  not  mentioned  till  1494;  but  a 
similar  officer  must  have  been  established  much 
earlier.  Four  auditors  and  two  porters  are  named 
in  the  reign  of  Henry  VI,  The  assayer,  or  as  he 
is  now  called,  assay  warden  (to  whom  were  after- 
wards joined  two  assistants),  is  peculiar  to  the 
Goldsmith:^-, 

The  Company's  assay  of  the  coin,  or  trial  of  the 
pix,  a  curious  proceeding  of  great  solemnity,  now 
takes  place  every  year,  "  It  is,"  says  Herbert,  in 
his  "  City  Companies,"  "an  investigation  or  inquiry 
into  the  purity  and  weight  of  the  money  coined, 
before  the  Lords  of  the  Council,  and  is  aided  by 
the  professional  knowledge  of  a  jury  of  the  Gold- 
smiths' Company ;  and  in  a  writ  directed  to  the 
barons  for  that  purpose  (9  and  10  Edward  I.)  is 
spoken  of  as  a  well-known  custom. 

"  The  Wardens  of  the  Goldsmiths'  Company  are 
summoned  by  precept  from  the  Lord  Chancellor  to 
form  a  jury,  of  which  their  assay  master  is  always 
one.  This  jury  are  sworn,  receive  a  charge  from 
the  Lord  Chancellor ;  then  retire  into  the  Court- 
room of  the  Duchy  of  Lancaster,  where  the  pix  (a 
small  box,  from  the  ancient  name  of  which  this 
ceremony  is  denominated),  and  which  contains  the 
coins  to  be  examined,  is  delivered  to  them  by  the 
officers  of  the  Mint.  The  indenture  or  authority 
under  which  the  Mint  Master  has  acted  being 
read,  the  pix  is  opened,  and  the  coins  to  be  assayed 
being  taken  out,  are  inclosed  in  paper  parcels,  each 
under  the  seals  of  the  Wardens,  Master,  and  Comp- 
trollers. From  every  15  lbs.  of  silver,  which  are 
technically  called  'journies,'  two  pieces  at  the 
least  are  taken  at  hazard  for  this  trial ;  and  each 
parcel  being  opened,  and  the  contents  being  found 
correct  with  the  indorsement,  the  coins  are  mixed 
together  in  wooden  bowls,  and  afterwards  weighed. 
From  the  whole  of  these  moneys  so  mingled,  the 
jury  take  a  certain  number  of  each  species  of  coin, 
to  the  amount  of  i  lb.  weight,  for  the  assay  by  fire  ; 
and  the  indented  trial  pieces  of  gold  and  silver,  of 
the  dates  specified  in  the  indenture,  being  pro- 


duced by  the  proper  officer,  a  sufficient  quantity  is 
cut  from  either  of  them  for  the  purpose  of  com- 
paring with  it  the  pound  weight  of  gold  or  silver 
by  the  usual  methods  of  assay.  The  perfection  or 
imperfection  of  these  are  certified  by  the  jury,  who 
deliver  their  verdict  in  writing  to  the  Lord  Chan- 
cellor, to  be  deposited  amongst  the  papers  of  the 
Privy  Council.  If  found  accurate,  the  Mint  Master 
receives  his  certificate,  or,  as  it  is  called,  quietus" 
(a  legal  word  used  by  Shakespeare  in  Hamlet's  great 
soliloquy).  "  The  assaying  of  the  precious  metals, 
anciently  called  the  'touch,'  with  the  marking  or 
stamping,  and  the  proving  of  the  coin,  at  what 
is  called  the  '  trial  of  the  pix,'  were  privileges 
conferred  on  the  Goldsmiths'  Company  by  the 
statute  28  Edward  I.  They  had  for  the  former 
purpose  an  assay  office  more  than  500  years  ago, 
which  is  mentioned  in  their  books.  Their  still  re- 
taining the  same  privilege  makes  the  part  of  Gold- 
smiths' Hall,  where  this  business  is  carried  on,  a 
busy  scene  during  the  hours  of  assaying.  In  the 
old  statute  all  manner  of  vessels  of  gold  and  silver 
are  expected  to  be  of  good  and  true  alloy,  namely, 
'  gold  of  a  certain  touch,'  and  silver  of  the  sterling 
alloy  ;  and  no  vessel  is  to  depart  out  of  the  hands 
of  the  workman  until  it  is  assayed  by  the  workers 
of  the  Goldsmiths'  craft. 

"  The  Hall  mark  shows  where  manufactured,  as 
the  Leopard'' s  head  for  London.  Dicty  mark  is  the 
head  of  the  Sovereign,  showing  the  duty  is  paid. 
Date  mark  is  a  letter  of  the  alphabet,  which  varies 
every  year ;  thus,  the  Goldsmiths'  Company  have 
used,  from  1716  to  1755,  Roman  capital  letters  ; 
1756  to  1775,  small  Roman  letters;  1776  to  1795, 
old  English  letters;  1796  to  18 15,  Roman  capital 
letters,  from  A  to  U,  omitting  J ;  1816  to  1835 
small  Roman  letters  a  to  u,  omitting  j ;  from  1836, 
old  English  letters.  There  are  two  qualities  of 
gold  and  silver.  The  inferior  is  mostly  in  use.  The 
quality  marks  for  silver  are  Britannia,  or  the  head 
of  the  reigning  monarch ;  for  gold,  the  lion  passant, 
22  or  18,  which  denotes  that  fine  gold  is  24-carat; 
18  only  75  per  cent,  gold;  sometimes  rings  are 
marked  22.  The  manufacturer's  mark  is  the  initials 
of  the  maker. 

"  The  Company  are  allowed  i  per  cent.,  and  the 
fees  for  stamping  are  paid  into  the  Inland  Revenue 
Office.  At  Goldsmiths'  Hall,  in  the  years  1850  to 
1863  inclusive,  there  were  assayed  and  marked  85 
22-carat  watch-cases,  316,347  i8-carat,  493  15- 
carat,  1550  12-carat,  448  9-carat,  making  a  total 
of  318,923  cases,  weighing  467,250  ounces  6  dwts. 
18  grains.  The  Goldsmiths'  Company  append 
a  note  to  this  return,  stating  that  they  have  no 
knowledge   of  the  value   of   the  cases    assayed, 


358 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


CCheapside. 


except  of  the  intrinsic  value,  as  indicated  by  the 
weight  and  quality  of  the  gold  given  in  the  return. 
The  silver  watch-cases  assayed  at  the  same  esta- 
blishment in  the  fourteen  years,  1,139,704,  the  total 
weight  being  2,302,192  ounces  19  dwts.  In  the 
year  1857  the  largest  number  of  cases  were  assayed 
out  of  the  fourteen.  The  precise  number  in  that 
year  was  106,860,  this  being  more  than  10,000 
above  any  year  in  the  period  named.  In  a  subse- 
quent year  the  number  was  only  77,608.  A  similar 
note  with  regard  to  value  is  appended  to  the 
return  of  silver  cases  as  to  the  gold."  There  has 
been  a  complaint  lately  that  the  inferior  jewellery 
is  often  tampered  with  after  receiving  the  Hall 
mark. 

An  old  book,  probably  Elizabethan,  the  "  Touch- 
stone for  Goldsmith's  Wares,"  observes,  "  That 
goldsmiths  in  the  City  and  liberties,  as  to  their  par- 
ticular trade,  are  under  the  Goldsmiths'  Company's 
control,  whether  members  or  not,  and  ought  to  be  of 
their  own  company,  though,  from  mistake  or  design, 
many  of  them  are  free  of  others.  For  the  wardens, 
being  by  their  charters  and  the  statutes  appointed  to 
survey,  assay,  and  mark  the  silver-work,  are  to  be 
chosen  from  members,  such  choice  must  sometimes 
fall  upon  them  that  are  either  of  other  trades,  or 
not  skilled  in  their  curious  art  of  making  assays  of 
gold  and  silver,  and  consequently  unable  to  make 
a  true  report  of  the  goodness  thereof ;  or  else 
the  necessary  attendance  thereon  is  too  great  a 
burden  for  the  wardens.  Therefore  they  (the  war- 
dens) have  appointed  an  assay  master,  called  by 
them  their  deputy  warden,  allowing  him  a  consider- 
able yearly  salary,  and  who  takes  an  oath  for  the 
due  performance  of  his  office.  They  have  large 
steel  puncheons  and  marks  of  different  sizes,  with 
the  leopard's-head,  crowned ;  the  lion,  and  a  certain 
letter,  which  letter  they  change  alphabetically  every 
year,  in  order  to  know  the  year  any  particular  work 
was  assayed  or  marked,  as  well  as  the  markers. 
These  marks,"  he  adds,  "are  every  year  new 
made,  for  the  use  of  fresh  wardens ;  and  although 
the  assaying  is  referred  to  the  assay  master,  yet  the 
touch-wardens  iook  to  the  striking  of  the  marks." 
To  acquaint  the  public  the  better  with  this  business 
of  the  assay,  the  writer  of  the  "Touchstone"  has 
prefixed  a  frontispiece  to  his  work,  intended  to 
represent  the  interior  of  an  assay  office  (we  should 
suppose  that  of  the  old  Goldsmiths'  Hall),  and 
makes  reference  by  numbers  to  the  various  objects 
shown — as,  i.  The  refining  furnace  ;  2.  The  test, 
with  silver  refining  in  it ;  3.  The  fining  bellows ; 
4.  The  man  blowing  or  working  them  ;  5.  The 
test-mould ;  6.  A  wind-hole  to  melt  silver  in,  with 
bellows  ;  7.  A  pair  of  organ  bellows ;  8.  A  man 


melting,  or  boiling,  or  nealing  silver  at  them ;  9.  A 
block,  with  a  large  anvil  placed  thereon;  10.  Three 
men  forging  plate;  11.  The  fining  and  other  gold- 
smith's tools;  12.  The  assay  furnace;  13.  The 
assay  master  making  assays;  14.  This  man  putting 
the  assays  into  the  fire;  15.  The  warden  marking 
the  plate  on  the  anvil;  16.  His  officer  holding  his 
plate  for  the  marks;  and  17.  Three  goldsmiths' 
small  workers  at  work.  In  the  office  are  stated  to 
be  a  sworn  weigher  to  weigh  and  make  entry  of 
all  silver-work  brought  in,  and  who  re-weighs  it  to 
the  owners  when  worked,  reserving  the  ancient 
allowance  for  so  doing,  which  is  4  grains  out  of 
every  i  lb.  marked,  for  a  re-assay  yearly  of  all  the 
silver  works  they  have  passed  the  preceding  year. 
There  are  also,  he  says,  a  table,  or  tables,  in  columns, 
one  whereof  is  of  hardened  lead,  and  the  other  of 
vellum  or  parchment  (the  lead  columns  having  tlie 
worker's  initials  struck  in  them,  and  the  other  the 
owner's  names) ;  and  the  seeing  that  these  marks  are 
right,  and  plainly  impressed  on  the  gold  and  silver 
work,  is  one  of  the  warden's  peculiar  duties.  The 
manner  of  marking  the  assay  is  thus  : — The  assay 
master  puts  a  small  quantity  of  the  silver  upon 
trial  in  the  fire,  and  then,  taking  it  out  again,  he, 
with  his  exact  scales  that  will  turn  with  the  weight 
of  the  hundredth  part  of  a  grain,  computes  and  re- 
ports the  goodness  or  badness  of  the  gold  and 
silver. 

The  allowance  of  four  grains  to  the  pound, 
Malcolm  states  to  have  been  continued  till  after 
1725  ;  for  gold  watch-cases,  from  one  to  four,  one 
shilling ;  and  all  above,  threepence  each ;  and  in 
proportion  for  other  articles  of  the  same  metal. 
"  The  assay  office,"  he  adds,  "  seems,  however, 
to  have  been  a  losing  concern  with  the  Company, 
their  receipts  for  six  years,  to  1725,  being  ;!^i,6i5 
13s.  ii^d.,  and  the  payments,  ;!^2,o74  3s.  8d." 

The  ancient  goldsmiths  seem  to  have  wisely 
blended  pleasure  with  profit,  and  to  have  feasted 
right  royally :  one  of  their  dinner  bills  runs  thus : — 

EXPENSES  OK  ST.    DUNSTAN'S   FEAST. 

1473  {\2  Edward IV.). 

£   s.    d. 

To  eight  minstrels  in  manner  accustomed  213     8 

Ten  bonnets  for  ditto 068 

Their  dinner     034 

Two  hogsheads  of  wine 2  10    o 

One  barrel  of  Muscadell    o    6     6 

Red  wine,  17  qrts.  and  3  galls o  11   10 

Four  barrels  of  good  ale    017     4 

Two  ditto  of  2dy  half-penny 060 

In  spice  bread o  16     8 

In  other  bread o  10  10 

In  comfits  and  spice  (36  articles)  5   17     6 

Poultry,  including  12  capons  at  8d 2   16  11 

Pigeons  at  i-Jd.,  and  12  more  geese,  at  7d.  '^ach. 


Cheapside.] 


THE  GOLDSMITHS'  COMPANY'S  PAGEANTS. 


359 


With  "  butchery,"  "  fishmongery,"  and  "  miscel- 
laneous articles,"  the  total  amount  of  the  feast  was 
£2(i  17s.  7d. 

A  supper  bill  which  occurs  in  the  nth  of 
Henry  VHI.  only  amounts  to  ^^5  i8s.  6d.,  and  it 
enumerates  the  following  among  the  provisions  : — 
Bread,  two  bushels  of  meal,  a  kilderkin  and  a  firkin 
of  good  ale,  12  capons,  four  dozen  of  chickens, 
four  dishes  of  Surrey  (sotterey)  butter,  11  lbs.  of 
suet,  six  marrow  bones,  a  quarter  of  a  sheep,  50 
eggs,  six  dishes  of  sweet  butter,  60  oranges,  goose- 
berries, strawberries,  5  6  lbs.  of  cherries,  17  lbs.  10  oz. 
of  sugar,  cinnamon,  ginger,  cloves,  and  mace,  saffron, 
rice  flour,  "  raisins,  currants,"  dates,  white  salt,  bay 
salt,  red  vinegar,  white  vinegar,  verjuice,  the  hire  of 
pewter  vessels,  and  various  other  articles. 

In  City  pageants  the  Goldsmiths  always  held  a 
conspicuous  place.  The  following  is  an  account 
of  their  pageant  in  jovial  Lord  Mayor  Vyner's 
time  (Charles  II.) : — 

"  First  pageant.  A  large  triumphal  chariot  of 
gold,  richly  set  with  divers  inestimable  and  various 
coloured  jewels,  of  dazzling  splendour,  adorned 
with  sundry  curious  figures,  fictitious  stories,  and 
delightful  landscapes ;  one  ascent  of  seats  up  to  a 
throne,  whereon  a  person  of  majestic  aspect  sitteth, 
the  representer  of  Justice,  hieroglyphically  attired, 
in  a  long  red  robe,  and  on  it  a  golden  mantle 
fringed  with  silver ;  on  her  head  a  long  dishevelled 
hair  of  flaxen  colour,  curiously  curled,  on  which  is 
a  coronet  of  silver  ;  in  her  left  hand  she  advanceth 
a  touchstone  (the  tryer  of  Ti-iith  and  discoverer  of 
Falsehood) ;  in  her  right  hand  she  holdeth  up  a 
golden  balance,  with  silver  scales,  equi-ponderent, 
to  weigh  justly  and  impartially;  her  arms  depen- 
dent on  the  heads  of  two  leopards,  which  emblema- 
tically intimate  courage  and  constaticy.  This  chariot 
is  drawn  by  two  golden  unicorns,  in  excellent 
carving  work,  with  equal  magnitude,  to  the  left; 
on  whose  backs  are  mounted  two  raven-black 
negroes,  attired  according  to  the  dress  of  India; 
on  their  heads,  wreaths  of  divers  coloured  feathers ; 
in  their  right  hands  they  hold  golden  cups  ;  in  their 
left  hands,  two  displayed  banners,  the  one  of  the 
king's,  the  other  of  the  Company's  arms,  all  which 
represent  the  crest  and  the  supporters  of  the  ancient, 
famous,  and  worshipful  Company  of  Goldsmiths. 

"  Trade  pageant.  On  a  very  large  pageant  is 
a  very  rich  seat  of  state,  containing  the  representer 
of  the  Patron  to  the  Goldsmiths'  Company,  Saint 
Dunstan,  attired  in  a  dress  properly  expressing  his 
prelatical  dignity,  in  a  robe  of  fine  white  lawn,  over 
which  he  weareth  a  cope  or  vest  of  costly  bright 
cloth  of  gold,  down  to  the  ground ;  on  his  reverend 
grey  head,  a  golden  mitre,  set  with  topaz,  ruby, 


emerald,  amethyst,  and  sapphire.  In  his  left  hand 
he  holdeth  a  golden  crozier,  and  in  his  right  hand 
he  useth  a  pair  of  goldsmith's  tongs.  Beneath  these 
steps  of  ascension  to  his  chair,  in  opposition  to  St. 
Dunstan,  is  properly  painted  a  goldsmith's  forge 
and  furnace,  with  fire  and  gold  in  it,  a  workman 
blowing  with  the  bellows.  On  his  right  and  left 
hand,  there  is  a  large  press  of  gold  and  silver  plate, 
representing  a  shop  of  trade  ;  and  further  in  front, 
are  several  artificers  at  work  on  anvils  with  ham- 
mers, beating  out  plate  fit  for  the  forgery  and  forma- 
tion of  several  vessels  in  gold  and  silver.  There 
are  likewise  in  the  shop  several  wedges  or  ingots 
of  gold  and  silver,  and  a  step  below  St.  Dunstan 
sitteth  an  assay-master,  with  his  glass  frame  and 
balance,  for  trial  of  gold  and  silver,  according  to  the 
standard.  In  another  place  there  is  also  disgrossing, 
drawing,  and  flatting  of  gold  and  silver  wire.  There 
are  also  finers  melting,  smelting,  fining,  and  parting 
gold  and  silver,  both  by  fire  and  water ;  and  in  a 
march  before  this  orfery,  are  divers  miners  in  canvas 
breeches,  red  waistcoats,  and  red  caps,  bearing 
spades,  pickaxes,  twibills,  and  crows,  for  to  sink 
shafts,  and  make  adits.  The  Devil,  also,  appear- 
ing to  St.  Dunstan,  is  catched  by  the  nose  at  a 
proper  qu,  which  is  given  in  his  speech.  When  the 
speech  is  spoken,  the  great  anvil  is  set  forth,  with 
a  silversmith  holding  on  it  a  plate  of  massive  silver, 
and  three  other  workmen  at  work,  keeping  excel- 
lent time  in  their  orderly  strokes  upon  the  anvil." 

The  Goldsmiths  in  the  Middle  Ages  seem  to 
have  been  fond  of  dress.  In  a  great  procession  of 
the  London  crafts  to  meet  Richard  II.'s  fair  young 
queen,  Anne  of  Bohemia,  all  the  mysteries  of  the 
City  wore  red  and  black  liveries.  The  Goldsmiths 
had  on  the  red  of  their  dresses  bars  of  silver-work 
and  silver  trefoils,  and  each  of  the  seven  score 
Goldsmiths,  on  the  black  part,  wore  fine  knots  of 
gold  and  silk,  and  on  their  worshipful  heads  red 
hats,  powdered  with  silver  trefoils.  In  Edward  IV. 's 
reign,  the  Company's  taste  changed.  The  Livery- 
men wore  violet  and  scarlet  gowns  like  the  Gold- 
smiths' sworn  friends,  the  Fishmongers ;  while, 
under  Henry  VI I.,  they  wore  violet  gowns  and 
black  hoods.  In  Henry  VIII.'s  reign  the  hoods 
of  the  mutable  Company  went  back  again  to  violet 
and  scarlet. 

In  1456  (Henry  VI.)  the  London  citizens  seem 
to  have  been  rather  severe  with  their  appren- 
tices; for  we  find  William  Hede,  a  goldsmith, 
accusing  his  apprentice  of  beating  his  mistress. 
The  apprentice  was  brought  to  the  kitchen  of 
the  Goldsmith's  Hall,  and  there  stripped  naked, 
and  beaten  by  his  master  till  blood  came.  This 
punishment  was  inflicted  in  the  presence  of  several 


360 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheapside 


people.    The  apprentice  then  asked  his  master's 
forgiveness  on  his  knees. 

The  Goldsmiths'  searches  for  bad  and  defective 
work  were  arbitrary  enough,  and  made  with  great 
formality.  "The  wardens,"  say  the  ordinances, 
"  every  quarter,  once,  or  oftener,  if  need  be,  shall 


also  dressed,  following.  Their  mode  of  proceeding 
is  given  in  the  following  account,  entitled  "The 
Manner  and  Order  for  Searches  at  Bartholomew 
Fayre  and  Our  Ladye  Fayre  "  (Henry  VIIL) : — 

"  M**.    The   Bedell    for   the    time   beyng    shall 
walke  uppon  Seynt  Barthyllmewes  Eve  all  alonge 


EXTERIOR  OF  GOLDSMITHS'  HALL. 


search  in  London,  Southwark,  and  Westminster,  that 
all  the  goldsmiths  there  dwelling  work  true  gold 
and  silver,  according  to  the  Act  of  Parliament, 
and  shall  also  make  due  search  for  their  weights." 

The  manner  of  making  this  search,  as  elsewhere 
detailed,  seems  to  have  resembled  that  of  our 
modern  inquest,  or  annoyance  juries;  the  Com- 
pany's beadle,  in  full  costume  and  with  his  insignia 
of  office,  marching  first;  the  wardens,  in  livery, 
with  their  hoods ;  the  Company's  clerk,  two  renter 
wardens,  two  brokers,  porters,  and  other  attendants, 


Chepe,  for  to  see  what  plaate  ys  in  eu'y  mannys 
deske  and  gyrdyll.  And  so  the  sayd  wardeyns  for 
to  goo  into  Lumberd  Streate,  or  into  other  places 
there,  where  yt  shall  please  theym.  And  also  the 
clerk  of  the  Fellyshyppe  shall  wayt  uppon  the  seyd 
wardeyns  for  to  wryte  eu'y  p'cell  of  sylu'  stuffe 
then  distrayned  by  the  sayd  wardeyns. 

"Also  the  sayd  wardeyns  been  accustomed  to 
goo  into  Barth'u  Fayre,  uppon  the  evyn  or  daye, 
at  theyr  pleasure,  in  theyre  lyuerey  gownes  and 
hoodys,  as  they  will  appoint,  and  two  of  the  livery. 


Cheapside.l 


GOLDSMITHS'  SPLENDOURS. 


361 


ancient  men,  with  them ;  the  renters,  the  clerk,  and 
the  bedell,  in  their  livery,  with  them ;  and  the 
brokers  to  wait  upon  my  masters  the  wardens,  to 
see  every  hardware  men  show,  for  deceitful  things, 
beads,  gawds  of  beads,  and  other  stuff;  and  then 
they  to  drink  when  they  have  done,  where  they 
please. 

"Also  the  said  wardens  be  accustomed  at  our 
Lady  day,  the  Nativity,  to  walk  and  see  the  fair  at 
Southwark,  in  like  manner  with  their  company,  as 
is  aforesaid,  and  to  search  there  likewise." 

Another  order  enjoins 
the  two  second  wardens 
"  to  ride  into  Stourbrydge 
fair,  with  what  officers  they 
liked,  and  do  the  same." 

Amongst  other  charges 
against  the  trade  at  this 
date,  it  is  said  "  that  dayly 
divers  straungers  and 
other  gentils  "  complained 
and  found  themselves 
aggrieved,  that  they  came 
to  the  shops  of  goldsmitlis 
within  the  City  of  London, 
and  without  the  City,  and 
to  their  booths  and  fairs, 
markets,  and  other  places, 
and  there  bought  of  them 
old  plate  new  refreshed  in 
gilding  and  burnishing;  it 
appearing  to  all  "  such 
straungers  and  other  gen- 
tils "  that  such  old  plate, 
so  by  them  bought,  was 
new,  sufficient,  and  able ; 
whereby  all  such  were  de- 
ceived, to  the  grete  "  dys- 
slaunder  and  jeopardy  of 
all  the  seyd  crafte  of  gold- 
smythis." 

In  consequence  of  these  complaints,  it  was 
ordained  (15  Henry  VIL)  by  all  the  said  fellow- 
ship, that  no  goldsmith,  within  or  without  the  City, 
should  thenceforth  put  to  sale  such  description  of 
plate,  in  any  of  the  places  mentioned,  without  it 
had  the  mark  of  the  "  Lybardishede  crowned." 
All  plate  put  to  sale  contrary  to  these  orders  the 
wardens  were  empowered  to  break.  They  also  had 
the  power,  at  their  discretion,  to  fine  offenders  for 
this  and  any  other  frauds  in  manufacturing.  If  any 
goldsmith  attempted  to  prevent  the  wardens  from 
breaking  bad  work,  they  could  seize  such  work, 
and  declare  it  forfeited,  according  to  the  Act  of 
Parliament,  appropriating  the  one  half  (as  thereby 
31 


ALTAR  OF  DIANA   {see  page  362) 


directed)  to  the  king,  and  the  other  to  the  wardens 
breaking  and  making  the  seizure. 

The  present  Goldsmiths'  Hall  was  the  design  of 
Philip  Hardwick,  R.A.  (1832-5),  and  boasts  itself 
the  most  magnificent  of  the  City  halls.  The  old  hall 
had  been  taken  down  in  1829,  and  the  new  hall  was 
built  without  trenching  on  the  funds  set  apart  for 
charity.  The  style  is  Italian,  of  the  seventeenth 
and  eighteenth  centuries.  The  building  is  180  feet 
in  front  and  100  feet  deep.  The  west  or  chief 
facade  has  six  attached  Corinthian  columns,  the 
whole  height  of  the  front 
supporting  a  rich  Corin- 
thian entablature  and  bold 
cornice ;  and  the  other 
three  fronts  are  adorned 
with  pilasters,  which  also 
terminate  the  angles. 
Some  of  the  blocks  in  the 
column  shafts  weigh  from 
ten  to  twelve  tons  each. 
The  windows  of  the  prin- 
cipal story,  the  echinus 
moulding  of  which  is 
handsome,  have  bold  and 
enriched  pediments,  and 
the  centre  windows  are 
honoured  by  massive  bal- 
ustrade balconies.  In  the 
centre,  above  the  first 
floor,  are  the  Company's 
arms,  festal  emblems,  rich 
garlands,  and  trophies. 
The  entrance  door  is  a 
rich  specimen  of  cast 
work.  Altogether,  though 
rather  jammed  up  behind 
the  Post-office,  this  build- 
ing is  worthy  of  the  power- 
ful and  wealthy  company 
who  make  it  their  domicile. 
The  modern  Renaissance  style,  it  must  be  allowed, 
though  less  picturesque  than  the  Gothic,  is  lighter, 
more  stately,  and  more  adapted  for  certain  pur- 
poses. 

The  hall  and  staircase  are  much  admired,  and 
are  not  without  grandeur.  They  were  in  187 1 
entirely  lined  with  costly  marbles  of  different  sorts 
and  colours,  and  the  result  is  very  splendid.  The 
staircase  branches  right  and  left,  and  ascends  to  a 
domed  gallery.  Leaving  that  respectable  Cerberus 
dozy  but  watchful  in  his  bee-hive  chair  in  the  vesti- 
bule, we  ascend  the  steps.  On  the  square  pedestals 
which  ornament  the  balustrade  of  the  first  flight 
of  stairs  stand  four  graceful  marble  statuettes  of 


362 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


tCheapslJe. 


the  seasons,  by  Nixon.  Spring  is  looking  at  a 
bird's-nest ;  Summer,  wreathed  with  flowers,  leads 
a  lamb ;  Autumn  carries  sheaves  of  corn ;  and 
Winter  presses  his  robe  close  against  the  wind. 
Between  the  double  scagliola  columns  of  tlie  gal- 
lery are  a  group  of  statues  ;  the  bust  of  the  sailor 
king,  William  IV.,  by  Chan  trey,  is  in  a  niche  above. 
A  door  on  the  top  of  the  staircase  opens  to  the 
Livery  hall ;  the  room  for  the  Court  of  Assist- 
ants is  on  the  right  of  the  northernmost  corridor. 
The  great  banqueting-hall,  80  by  40  feet,  and 
35  feet  high,  has  a  range  of  Corinthian  columns  on 
either  side.  The  five  lofty,  arched  windows  are 
filled  with  the  armorial  bearings  of  eminent  gold- 
smiths of  past  times ;  and  at  the  north  end  is  a 
spacious  alcove  for  the  display  of  plate,  which  is 
lighted  from  above.  On  the  side  of  the  room  is  a 
large  mirror,  with  busts  of  George  IIL  and  his  worthy 
son,  George  IV.  Between  the  columns  are  portraits 
of  Queen  Adelaide,  by  Sir  Martin  Archer  Shee, 
and  William  IV.  and  Queen  Victoria,  by  the  Court 
painter.  Sir  George  Hayter.  The  court-room  has  an 
elaborate  stucco  ceiling,  with  a  glass  chandelier, 
which  tinkles  when  the  scarlet  mail-carts  rush  off 
one  after  another.  In  this  room,  beneath  glass,  is 
preserved  the  interesting  little  altar  of  Diana,  found 
in  digging  the  foundations  of  the  new  hall.  Though 
greatly  corroded,  it  has  been  of  fine  workmanship, 
and  the  outlines  are  full  of  grace.  There  are  also 
some  pictures  of  great  merit  and  interest.  First 
among  them  is  Janssen's  fine  portrait  of  Sir  Hugh 
Myddleton.  He  is  dressed  in  black,  and  rests  his 
hand  upon  a  shell.  This  great  benefactor  of  Lon- 
don left  a  share  in  his  water-works  to  the  Gold- 
smiths' Company,  which  is  now  worth  more 
than  ;,{^i,ooo  a  year.  Another  portrait  is  that  of 
Sir  Thomas  Vyner,  that  jovial  Lord  Mayor,  who 
dragged  Charles  II.  back  for  a  second  bottle.  A 
third  is  a  portrait  (after  Holbein)  of  Sir  Martin 
Bowes,  Lord  Mayor  in  1545  (Henry  VIII.); 
and  there  is  also  a  large  picture  (attributed  to 
Giulio  Romano,  the  only  painter  Shakespeare 
mentions  in  his  plays).  In  the  foreground  is  St. 
Dunstan,  in  rich  robes  and  crozier  in  hand,  while 
behind,  the  saint  takes  the  Devil  by  the  nose, 
much  to  the  approval  of  flocks  of  angels  above. 
The  great  white  marble  mantelpiece  came  from 
Canons,  the  seat  of  the  Duke  of  Chandos ;  and 
the  two  large  terminal  busts  are  attributed  to  Rou- 
biliac.  The  sumptuous  drawing-room,  adorned  with 
crimson  satin,  white  and  gold,  has  immense  mirrors, 
and  a  stucco  ceiling,  wrought  with  fruit,  flowers, 
birds,  and  animals,  with  coats  of  arms  blazoned  on 
the  four  corners.  The  court  dining-room  displays  on 
the  marble  chimney-piece  two  boys  holding  a  wreath 


encircling  the  portrait  of  Richard  II.,  by  whom 
the  Goldsmiths  were  first  incorporated.  In  the 
livery  tea-room  is  a  conversation  piece,  by  Hudson 
(Reynolds'  master),  containing  portraits  of  six  l^ord 
Mayors,  all  Goldsmiths.  The  Company's  plate,  as 
one  might  suppose,  is  very  magnificent,  and  com- 
prises a  chandelier  of  chased  gold,  weighing  1,000 
ounces ;  two  superb  old  gold  plates,  having  on 
them  the  arms  of  France  quartered  with  those  of 
England ;  and,  last  of  all,  there  is  the  gold  cup 
(attributed  to  Cellini)  out  of  which  Queen  Eliza- 
beth is  said  to  have  drank  at  her  coronation,  and 
which  was  bequeathed  to  the  Company  by  Sir 
Martin  Bowes.  At  the  Great  Exhibition  of  1851 
this  spirited  Company  awarded  ^1,000  to  the  best 
artist  in  gold  and  silver  plate,  and  at  the  same 
time  resolved  to  spend  ;^5,ooo  on  plate  of  British 
manufacture. 

From  the  Report  of  the  Charity  Commissioners 
it  appears  that  the  Goldsmiths'  charitable  funds, 
exclusive  of  gifts  by  Sir  Martin  Bowes,  amount  to 
;^2,oi3  per  annum. 

Foster  Lane  was  in  old  times  chiefly  inhabited 
by  working  goldsmiths. 

"  Dark  Entry,  Foster  Lane,"  says  Strype,  "  gives 
a  passage  into  St.  Martin's-le-Grand.  On  the  north 
side  of  this  entry  was  seated  the  parish  church  of 
St.  Leonard,  Foster  Lane,  which  being  consumed 
in  the  Fire  of  London,  is  not  rebuilt,  but  the 
parish  united  to  Christ  Church ;  and  the  place 
where  it  stood  is  inclosed  within  a  wall,  and 
serveth  as  a  burial-place  for  the  inhabitants  of  the 
parish." 

On  the  west  side  of  Foster  Lane  stood  the  small 
parish  church  of  St.  Leonard's.  This  church,  says 
Stow,  was  repaired  and  enlarged  about  the  year 
163 1.  A  very  fair  window  at  the  upper  end  of 
the  chancel  (1533)  cost  ;^Soo. 

In  this  church  were  some  curious  monumental 
inscriptions.  One  of  them,  to  the  memory  of 
Robert  Trappis,  goldsmith,  bearing  the  date  1526, 
contained  this  epitaph  : — 

"  When  the  bels  be  merrily  rung, 
And  the  masse  devoutly  sung, 
And  the  meate  merrily  eaten, 
Then  shall  Robert  Trappis,  his  wife  and 
children  be  forgotten." 

On  a  stone,  at  the  entering  into  the  choir,  was 
inscribed  in  Latin,  "Under  this  marble  rests  the 
body  of  Humfred  Barret,  son  of  John  Barret, 
gentleman,  who  died  a.d.  1501."  On  a  fair  stone, 
in  the  chancel,  nameless,  was  written  : — 
"Live  to  Dyk. 

"All  flesh  is  grass,  and  needs  must  fade 
To  earth  again,  whereof 'twas  made." 


Cheapside.] 


ST.  VEDAST  AND   COACHMAKERS'   HALL. 


3^3 


St.  Vedast,  otherwise  St.  Foster,  was  a  French 
saint,  Bishop  of  Arras  and  Cambray  in  the  reign 
of  Clovis,  who,  according  to  the  Rev.  Alban 
Butler,  performed  many  miracles  on  the  blind 
and  lame.  Alaric  had  a  great  veneration  for  this 
saint. 

In  183 1,  some  workmen  digging  a  drain  dis- 
covered, ten  or  twelve  feet  below  the  level  of 
Cheapside,  and  opposite  No.  17,  a  curious  stone 
coffin,  now  preserved  in  a  vault,  under  a  small 
brick  grave,  on  the  north  side  of  St.  Vedast's ; 
whether  Roman  or  Anglo-Saxon,  it  consists  of  a 
block  of  freestone,  seven  feet  long  and  fifteen 
inches  thick,  hollowed  out  to  receive  a  body,  with 
a  deeper  cavity  for  the  head  and  shoulders.  When 
found,  it  contained  a  skeleton,  and  was  covered 
with  a  flat  stone.  Several  other  stone  coffins  were 
found  at  the  same  time. 

The  interior  of  St.  Foster  is  a  melancholy  in- 
stance of  Louis  Quatorze  ornamentation.  The 
church  is  divided  by  a  range  of  Tuscan  columns, 
and  the  ceiling  is  enriched  with  dusty  wreaths 
of  stucco  flowers  and  fruit.  The  altar-piece  con- 
sists of  four  Corinthian  columns,  carved  in  oak, 
and  garnished  with  cherubim,  palm-branches,  &c. 
In  the  centre,  above  the  entablature,  is  a  group 
of  well-executed  winged  figures,  and  beneath  is  a 
sculptured  pelican.  In  1838  Mr.  Godwin  spoke 
highly  of  the  transparent  blinds  of  this  church, 
painted  with  various  Scriptural  subjects,  as  a  sub- 
stitute for  stained  glass. 

"  St.  Vedast  Church,  in  Foster  Lane,"  says  Mait- 
land,  "  is  on  the  east  side,  in  the  Ward  of  Farring- 
don  Within,  dedicated  to  St.  Vedast,  Bishop  of 
Arras,  in  the  province  of  Artois.  The  first  time 
I  find  it  mentioned  in  history  is,  that  Walter  de 
London  was  presented  thereto  in  1308.  The 
patronage  of  the  church  was  anciently  in  the 
Prior  and  Convent  of  Canterbury,  till  the  year 
1352,  when,  coming  to  the  archbishop  of  that  see, 
it  has  been  in  him  and  his  successors  ever  since  ; 
and  is  one  of  the  thirteen  peculiars  in  this  city 
belonging  to  that  archiepiscopal  city.  This  church 
was  not  entirely  destroyed  by  the  fire  in  1666,  but 
nothing  left  standing  but  the  walls ;  the  crazy 
steeple  continued  standing  till  the  year  1694,  when 
it  was  taken  down  and  beautifully  rebuilt  at  the 
charge  of  the  united  parishes.  To  this  parish  that 
of  St.  Michael  Quern  is  united." 

Among  the  odd  monumental  inscriptions  in  this 
church  are  the  following  : — 

"Lord,  of  thy  infinite  grace  and  Pittee 
Have  mercy  on  me  Agnes,  somtym  the  wyf 

Of  William  Milborne,  Chamberlain  of  this  citte, 
Which  toke  my  passage  fro  this  wretched  lyf, 


The  year  of  gras  one  thousand  fyf  hundryd  and  fyf, 
The  xii.  day  of  July  ;  no  longer  was  my  spase, 

It  plesy'd  then  my  Lord  to  call  me  to  his  Grase  ; 
Now  ye  that  are  living,  and  see  this  picture, 

Pray  for  me  here,  whyle  ye  have  tyme  and  spase, 
That  God  of  his  goodnes  wold  me  assure, 

In  his  everlasting  mansion  to  have  a  plase. 
Obiit  Anno  1505.  " 

"Here  lyeth  interred  the  body  of  Christopher  Wase,  late 
citizen  and  goldsmith  of  London,  aged  66  yeeres,  and  dyed 
the  22nd  September,  1605  ;  who  had  to  wife  Anne,  the 
daughter  of  William  Prettyman,  and  had  by  her  three  sons 
and  three  daughters. 

"  Reader,  stay,  and  thou  shalt  know 
What  he  is,  that  here  doth  sleepe  ; 
Lodged  amidst  the  Stones  below. 

Stones  that  oft  are  seen  to  weepe. 
Gentle  was  his  Birth  and  Breed, 

His  carriage  gentle,  much  contenting; 
His  word  accorded  with  his  Deed, 

Sweete  his  nature,  soone  relenting. 
From  above  he  seem'd  protected, 

P'ather  dead  before  his  Birth. 
An  orphane  only,  but  neglected. 

Yet  his  Branches  spread  on  Earth, 
Earth  that  must  his  Bones  containe, 

Sleeping,  till  Christ's  Trumpe  shall  wake  them, 
Joyning  them  to  Soule  againe, 
And  to  Blisse  eternal  take  them. 
It  is  not  this  rude  and  little  Heap  of  Stones, 
Can  hold  the  Fame,  although 't  containes  the  Bones  ; 
Light  be  the  Earth,  and  hallowed  for  thy  sake. 
Resting  in  Peace,  Peace  that  thou  so  oft  didst  make." 

Coachmakers'  Hall,  Noble  Street,  Foster  Lane 
originally  built  by  the  Scriveners'  Company,  was 
afterwards  sold  to  the  Coachmakers.  Here  the  "Pro- 
testant Association"  held  its  meetings,  and  here 
originated  the  dreadful  riots  of  the  year  1780.  The 
Protestant  Association  was  formed  in  February, 
1778,  in  consequence  of  a  bill  brought  into  the 
House  of  Commons  to  repeal  certain  penalties  and 
liabilities  imposed  upon  Roman  Catholics.  When 
the  bill  was  passed,  a  petition  was  framed  for  its 
repeal;  and  here,  in  this  very  hall  (May  29, 
1780),  the  following  resolution  was  proposed  and 
carried  : — 

"  That  the  whole  body  of  the  Protestant  Associa- 
tion do  attend  in  St.  George's  Fields,  on  Friday 
next,  at  ten  of  the  clock  in  the  morning,  to  ac- 
company Lord  George  Gordon  to  the  House  of 
Commons,  on  the  delivery  of  the  Protestant  peti- 
tion." His  lordship,  who  was  present  on  this 
occasion,  remarked  that  "  if  less  than  20,000  of 
his  fellow-citizens  attended  him  on  that  day,  he 
would  not  present  their  petition." 

Upwards  of  50,000  "true  Protestants"  promptly 
answered  the  summons  of  the  Association,  and  the 
Gordon  riots  commenced,  to  the  six  days'  terror 
of  the  metropolis. 


3^4 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON, 


[Wood  Street. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

CHEAPSIDE  TRIBUTARIES,    NORTH  .—WOOD    STREET. 

Wood  3h?eet— Pleasant  Memories— St.  Peter's  in  Chepe— St.  Michael's  and  St.  Mary  Staining— St.  Alban's,  Wood  Street— Some  Quaint  Epitaphs- 
Wood  Street  Compter  and  the  Hapless  Prisoners  therein— Wood  Street  Painful,  Wood  Street  Cheerful— Thomas  Ripley— The  Anabaptist 
Rising— A  Remarkable  Wine  Cooper— St.  John  Zachary  and  St.  Anne-in-the-Willows— Haberdashers'  Hall— Something  about  the  Mercers. 


Wood  Street  runs  from  Cheapside  to  London 
Wall.  Stow  has  two  conjectures  as  to  its  name — 
first,  that  it  was  so  called  because  the  houses  in  it 
were  built  all  of  wood,  contrary  to  Richard  I.'s 
edict  that  London  houses  should  be  built  of  stone, 
to  prevent  fire ;  secondly,  that  it  was  called  after 
one  Thomas  Wood,  sheriff  in  1491  (Henry  VH.), 
who  dwelt  in  this  street,  was  a  benefactor  to  St. 
Peter  in  Chepe,  and  built  "the  beautiful  row  of 
houses  over  against  Wood  Street  end." 

At  Cheapside  Cross,  which  stood  at  the  corner 
of  Wood  Street,  all  royal  proclamations  used  to  be 
read,  even  long  after  the  cross  was  removed. 
Thus,  in  1666,  we  find  Charles  II.'s  declaration  of 
war  against  Louis  XIV.  proclaimed  by  the  officers 
at  arms,  Serjeants  at  arms,  trumpeters,  &c.,  at 
Whitehall  Gate,  Temple  Bar,  the  end  of  Chancery 
Lane,  Wood  Street,  Cheapside,  and  the  Royal 
Exchange.  Huggin's  Lane,  in  this  street,  derives 
its  name,  as  Stow  tells  us,  from  a  London  citizen 
who  dwelt  here  in  the  reign  of  Edward  I.,  and  was 
called  Hugan  in  the  Lane. 

That  pleasant  tree  at  the  left-hand  corner  of  Wood 
Street,  which  has  cheered  many  a  weary  business 
man  with  memories  of  the  fresh  green  fields  far  away, 
was  for  long  the  residence  of  rooks,  who  built  there. 
In  1845  two  fresh  nests  were  built,  and  one  is  still 
visible;  but  the  sable  birds  deserted  their  noisy 
town  residence  several  years  ago.  Probably,  as  the 
north  of  London  was  more  built  over,  and  such 
feeding-grounds  as  Belsize  Park  turned  to  brick  and 
mortar,  the  birds  found  the  fatigue  of  going  miles 
in  search  of  food  for  their  young  unbearable,  and 
so  migrated.  Leigh  Hunt,  in  one  of  his  agreeable 
books,  remarks  that  there  are  few  districts  in 
London  where  you  will  not  find  a  tree.  "  A 
child  was  shown  us,"  says  Leigh  Hunt,  "  who  was 
said  never  to  have  beheld  a  tree  but  one  in  St. 
Paul's  Churchyard  (now  gone).  Whenever  a  tree 
was  mentioned,  it  was  this  one ;  she  had  no  con- 
ception of  any  other,  not  even  of  the  remote  tree 
in  Cheapside."  This  famous  tree  marks  the  site  of 
St.  Peter  in  Chepe,  a  church  destroyed  by  the 
Great  Fire.  The  terms  of  the  lease  of  the  low 
houses  at  the  west-end  corner  are  said  to  forbid  the 
erection  of  another  storey  or  the  removal  of  the  tree. 
Whether  this  restriction  arose  from  a  love  of  the 
tree,  as  we  should  like  to  think,  we  cannot  say. 


St.  Peter's  in  Chepe  is  a  rectory  (says  Stow), 
"the  church  whereof  stood  at  the  south-west  corner 
of  Wood  Street,  in  the  ward  ofc-Farringdon  Within, 
but  of  what  antiquity  I  know  not,  other  than  that 
Thomas  de  Winton  was  rector  thereof  in  1324." 

The  patronage  of  this  church  was  anciently  in 
the  Abbot  and  Convent  of  St.  Albans,  with  whom 
it  continued  till  the  suppression  of  their  monastery, 
when  Henry  VIII.,  in  the  year  1546,  granted  the 
same  to  the  Earl  of  Southampton.  It  afterwards 
belonged  to  the  Duke  of  Montague.  This  church 
being  destroyed  in  the  fire  and  not  rebuilt,  the 
parish  is  united  to  the  Church  of  St.  Matthew, 
Friday  Street.  "In  the  year  1401,"  says  Maitland, 
"licence  was  granted  to  the  inhabitants  of  this 
parish  to  erect  a  shed  or  shop  before  their  church  in 
Cheapside.  On  the  site  of  this  building,  anciently 
called  the  'Long  Shop,'  are  now  erected  four 
shops,  with  rooms  over  them." 

Wordsworth  has  immortalised  Wood  Street  by 
his  plaintive  little  ballad — 

the   REVERIE   OF   POOR   SUSAN. 

"  At  the  comer  ofWood  Street,  when  dayhght  appears, 
Hangs  a  thrush  that  sings  loud,  it  has  sung  for  three  years; 
Poor  Susan  has  passed  by  the  spot,  and  has  heard 
In  the  silence  of  morning  the  song  of  the  bird. 

"  '  Tis  a  note  of  enchantment  ;  what  ails  her  ?  she  sees 
A  mountain  ascending,  a  vision  of  trees  ; 
Eright  volumes  of  vapour  through  Lothbury  glide, 
And  a  river  flows  on  through  the  vale  of  Cheapside. 

"  Green  pastures  she  views  in  the  midst  of  the  dale, 
Down  which  she  so  often  has  tripped  with  her  pail ; 
And  a  single  small  cottage,  a  nest  like  a  dove's, 
The  one  only  dwelling  on  earth  that  she  loves. 

"  She  looks,  and  her  heart  is  in  heaven  ;  but  they  fade, 
The  mist  and  the  river,  the  hill  and  the  shade  ; 
The  stream  will  not  flow,  and  the  hill  will  not  rise, 
And  the  colours  have  all  passed  away  from  her  eyes." 

Perhaps  some  summer  morning  the  poet,  passing 
down  Cheapside,  saw  the  plane-tree  at  the  corner 
wave  its  branches  to  him  as  a  friend  waves  a  hand, 
and  at  that  sight  there  passed  through  his  mind  an 
imagination  of  some  poor  Cumberland  servant-girl 
toiling  in  London,  and  regretting  her  far-off  home 
among  the  pleasant  hills. 

St.  Michael's,  Wood  Street,  is  a  rectory  situated 
on  the  west  side  of  Wood  Street,  in  the  ward  of 
Cripplegate  Witliin.    John  de  Eppewell  was  rector 


Wood  Street  J 


ST.   MICHAEL'S  AND  ST.   MARY  STAINING. 


365 


thereof  before  the  year  1328.  "The  patronage  was 
anciently  in  the  Abbot  and  Convent  of  St.  Albans, 
in  whom  it  continued  till  the  suppression  of  their 
monastery,  when,  coming  to  the  Crown,  it  was, 
with  the  appurtenances,  in  the  year  1544,  sold  by 
Henry  VIII.  to  William  Barwell,  who,  in  the  year 
1588,  conveyed  the  same  to  John  Marsh  and 
others,  in  trust  for  the  parish,  in  which  it  still 
continues."  Being  destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire,  it 
was  rebuilt,  in  1675,  ^^om  the  designs  of  Sir 
Christopher  Wren.  At  the  east  end  four  Ionic 
pillars  support  an  entablature  and  pediment,  and 
the  three  circular-headed  windows  are  well  propor- 
tioned. The  south  side  faces  Huggin  Lane,  but 
the  tower  and  spire  are  of  no  interest.  The  interior 
of  the  church  is  a  large  parallelogram,  with  an  orna- 
mented carved  ceiling.  In  183 1  the  church  was 
repaired  and  the  tower  thrown  open.  The  altar- 
piece  represents  Moses  and  Aaron.  The  vestry- 
books  date  from  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  and  contain,  among  others,  memoranda  of 
parochial  rejoicings,  such  as — "1620.  Nov.  9.  Paid 
for  ringing  and  a  bonfire,  4s." 

The  Church  of  St.  Mary  Staining  being  destroyed 
in  the  Great  Fire,  the  parish  was  annexed  to  that 
of  St.  Michael's.  The  following  is  the  most  curious 
of  the  monumental  inscriptions  : — 

"  John  Casey,  of  this  parish,  whose  dwelling  was 
In  the  north-corner  house  as  to  Lad  Lane  you  pass  ; 
For  better  knowledge,  the  name  it  hath  now 
Is  called  and  known  by  the  name  of  the  Plow  ; 
Out  of  that  house  yearly  did  geeve 
Twenty  shillings  to  the  poore,  their  neede  to  releeve ; 
Which  money  the  tenant  must  yearlie  pay 
To  the  parish  and  churchwardens  on  St.  Thomas'  Day. 
The  heire  of  that  house,  Thomas  Bowrman  by  name, 
Hath  since,  by  his  deed,  confirmed  the  same  ; 
Whose  love  to  the  poore  doth  hereby  appear, 
And  after  his  death  shall  live  many  a  yeare. 
Therefore  in  your  life  do  good  while  yee  may, 
That  M-hen  meagre  death  shall  take  yee  away  ; 
You  may  live  like  form'd  as  Casey  and  Bowrman — 
For  he  that  doth  well  shall  never  be  a  poore  man. " 

Here  was  also  a  monument  to  Queen  Elizabeth, 
with  this  inscription,  found  in  many  other  London 
churches : — 

"  Here  lyes  her  type,  who  was  of  late 

The  prop  of  Belgia,  stay  of  France, 
Spaine's  foile,  Faith's  shield,  and  queen  of  State, 

Of  arms,  of  learning,  fate  and  chance. 
In  brief,  of  women  ne'er  was  seen 
So  great  a  prince,  so  good  a  queen. 

"  Sith  Vertue  her  immortal  made, 

Death,  envying  all  that  cannot  dye, 
Her  earthly  parts  did  so  invade 

As  in  it  wrackt  self-majasty. 
But  so  her  spirits  inspired  her  parts, 
That  she  still  lives  in  loval  hearts." 


There  was  buried  here  (but  without  any  outward 
monument)  the  head  of  James,  the  fourth  King  of 
Scots,  slain  at  Flodden  Field.  After  the  battle,  the 
body  of  the  said  king  being  found,  was  closed  in 
lead,  and  conveyed  from  thence  to  London,  and 
so  to  the  monastery  of  Shene,  in  Surrey,  where  it 
remained  for  a  time.  "  But  since  the  dissolution  of 
that  house,"  says  Stow,  "  in  the  reign  of  Edward  VI., 
Henry  Gray,  Duke  of  Suffolk,  lodged  and  kept 
house  there.  I  have  been  shown  the  said  body,  so 
lapped  in  lead.  The  head  and  body  were  thrown 
into  a  waste  room,  amongst  the  old  timber,  lead, 
and  other  rubble ;  since  which  time  workmen 
there,  for  their  foolish  pleasure,  hewed  off  his  head; 
and  Launcelot  Young,  master  glazier  to  Queen 
Elizabeth,  feeling  a  sweet  savour  to  come  from 
thence,  and  seeing  the  same  dried  from  moisture, 
and  yet  the  form  remaining  with  the  hair  of  the 
head  and  beard  red,  brought  it  to  London,  to  his 
house  in  Wood  Street,  where  for  a  time  he  kept  it 
for  the  sweetness,  but  in  the  end  caused  the  sexton 
of  that  church  to  bury  it  amongst  other  bones  taken 
out  of  their  charnel." 

s,."The  parish  church  of  St.  Michael,  in  Wood 
Street,  is  a  proper  thing,"  says  Strype,  '*  and  lately 
well  repaired ;  John  lue,  parson  of  this  church, 
John  Forster,  goldsmith,  and  Peter  Fikelden,  taylor, 
gave  two  messuages  and  shops,  in  the  same  parish 
and  street,  and  in  Ladle  Lane,  to  the  reparation  of 
the  church,  the  i6th  of  Richard  II.  In  the  year 
1627  the  parishioners  made  a  new  door  to  this 
church  into  Wood  Street,  where  till  then  it  had 
only  one  door,  standing  in  Huggin  Lane." 

St.  Mary  Staining,  in  Wood  Street,  destroyed 
by  the  Great  Fire,  stood  on  the  north  side  of  Oat 
Lane,  in  the  Ward  of  Aldersgate  Within.  "  The 
additional  epithet  of  staining,"  says  Maitland,  "  is 
as  uncertain  as  the  time  of  the  foundation ;  some 
imagining  it  to  be  derived  from  the  painters'  stainers, 
who  probably  lived  near  it;  and  others  from  its  being 
built  with  stone,  to  distinguish  it  from  those  in  the 
City  that  were  built  with  wood.  The  advowson  of 
the  rectory  anciently  belonged  to  the  Prioress  and 
Convent  of  Clerkenwell,  in  whom  it  continued  till 
their  suppression  by  Henry  VIII.,  when  it  came  to 
the  Crown.  The  parish,  as  previously  observed, 
is  now  united  to  St.  Michael's,  Wood  Street.  That 
this  church  is  not  of  a  modern  foundation,  is  mani- 
fest from  John  de  Lukenore's  being  rector  thereof 
before  the  year  1328. 

St.  Alban's,  Wood  Street,  in  the  time  of  Paul, 
the  fourteenth  Abbot  of  St.  Alban's,  belonged  to 
the  Verulam  monastery,  but  in  1077  the  abbot 
exchanged  the  right  of  presentation  to  this  church 
for  the  patronage  of  one  belonging  to  the  Abbot  of 


366 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Wood  Street. 


Westminster.  Matthew  Paris  says  that  this  Wood 
Street  Church  was  the  chapel  of  King  Offa,  the 
founder  of  St.  Alban's  Abbey,  who  had  a  palace 
near  it.  Stow  says  it  was  of  great  antiquity,  and 
that  Roman  bricks  were  visible  here  and  there 
among  the  stones.  Maitland  thinks  it  probable 
that  it  was  one  of  the  first  churches  built  by  Alfred 
in  London  after  he  had  driven  out  the  Danes. 
The    right    of  presentation   to    the    church    was 


says  Seymour,  "  is  the  name,  by  which  it  was  first 
dedicated  to  St.  Alban,  the  first  martyr  of  Eng- 
land. Another  character  of  the  antiquity  of  it  is 
to  be  seen  in  the  manner  of  the  turning  of  the 
arches  to  the  windows,  and  the  heads  of  the  pillars. 
A  third  note  appears  in  the  Roman  bricks,  here 
and  there  inlaid  amongst  the  stones  of  the  building. 
Very  probable  it  is  that  this  church  is,  at  least,  of 
as  ancient  a  standing  as  King  Adelstane,  the  Saxon, 


WOOD  STREET  COMPTER.     From  a  ViCii}  published  in  1793.     {Sec pa^c  'i^b'i,.) 


originally  possessed  by  the  master,  brethren,  and 
sisters  of  St.  James's  Leper  Hospital  (site  of  St. 
James's  Palace),  and  after  the  death  of  Henry  VL 
it  was  vested  in  the  Provost  and  Fellows  of  Eton 
College.  In  the  reign  of  Charles  IL  the  parish 
was  united  to  that  of  St.  Olave,  Silver  Street,  and 
the  right  of  presentation  is  now  exercised  alter- 
nately by  Eton  College  and  the  Dean  and  Chapter 
of  St.  Paul's.  The  style  of  the  interior  of  the 
church  is  late  pointed.  The  windows  appear 
older  than  the  rest  of  the  building.  The  ceiling  in 
the  nave  exhibits  bold  groining,  and  the  general 
effect  is  not  unpleasing. 

"  One  note  of  the  great  antiquity  of  this  church," 


who,  as  tradition  says,  had  his  house  at  the  east 
end  of  this  church.  This  king's  house,  having 
a  door  also  into  Adel  Street,  in  this  parish,  gave 
name,  as  'tis  thought,  to  the  said  Adel  Street, 
which,  in  all  evidences,  to  this  day  is  written  King 
Adel  Street.  One  great  square  tower  of  this  king's 
house  seemed,  in  Stow's  time,  to  be  then  remaining, 
and  to  be  seen  at  the  north  corner  of  Love  Lane, 
as  you  come  from  Aldermanbury,  which  tower  was 
of  the  very  same  stone  and  manner  of  building 
with  St.  Alban's  Church." 

About  the  commencement  of  the  seventeenth 
century  St.  Alban's,  being  in  a  state  of  great 
decay,  was  surveyed  by  Sir  Henry  Spiller  and  Inigo 


Wood  Street.] 


ST.   ALBAN'S,   WOOD   STREET. 


3<57 


Jones,  and  in  accordance  with  their  advice,  appa- 
rently, in  1632  it  was  pulled  down,  and  rebuilt 
atmo  1634;  but,  perishing  in  the  flames  of  1666, 
it  was  re-erected  as  it  now  appears,  and  finished 
in  the  year  1688,  fi-om  Wren's  design. 


To  be  his  comfort  everywhere 
Now  joyfull  Alice  is  gone. 

And  for  these  three  departed  soules, 
Gone  up  to  joyfull  blisse, 

Th'  almighty  praise  be  given  to  God, 
To  whom  the  glory  is." 


THE  TREE  AT  THE  CORNER   OF  WOOD   STREET. 


In  the  old  church  were  the  following  epitaphs  :- 

"  Of  William  Wilson,  Joane  his  wife. 

And  Alice,  their  daughter  deare. 
These  lines  were  left  to  give  report 

These  three  lye  buried  here  ; 
And  Alice  was  Henry  Decon's  wife. 

Which  Henry  lives  on  earth. 
And  is  the  Serjeant  Plummer 

To  Queen  Elizabeth. 
With  whom  this  Alice  left  issue  here. 

His  virtuous  daughter  Joan, 


Over  the  grave  of  Anne,  the  wife  of  Laurence 
Gibson,  gentleman,  were  the  following  verses,  which 
are  worth  mentioning  here  : — 

"  MENTIS  VIS  MAGNA. 

"  What !  is  she  dead  ? 

Doth  he  survive  ? 
No  ;  both  are  dead, 

And  both  alive. 
She  lives,  hee's  dead, 

By  love,  though  grieving, 


368 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Wood  Street 


In  him,  for  her, 

Yet  dead,  yet  living  ; 
Both  dead  and  living, 

Then  what  is  gone  ? 
One  half  of  both. 

Not  any  one. 
One  mind,  one  faith, 

One  hope,  one  grave, 
In  life,  in  death, 

They  had  and  still  they  have." 

The  pulpit  (says  Seymour)  is  finely  carved  with 
an  enrichment,  in  imitation  of  fiiiit  and  leaves ; 
and  the  sound-board  is  a  hexagon,  having  round  it 
a  fine  cornice,  adorned  with  cherubims  and  other 
embellishments,  and  the  inside  is  neatly  finniered. 
The  altar-piece  is  very  ornamental,  consisting  of 
four  columns,  fluted  with  their  bases,  pedestals, 
entablature,  and  open  pediment  of  the  Corinthian 
order;  and  over  each  column,  upon  acroters,  is 
a  lamp  with  a  gilded  taper.  Between  the  inner 
columns  are  the  Ten  Commandments,  done  in  gold 
letters  upon  black.  Between  the  two,  northward, 
is  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  the  two  southward  the 
Creed,  done  in  gold  upon  blue.  Over  the  com- 
mandments is  a  Glory  between  two  cherubims, 
and  above  the  cornice  the  king's  arms,  with  the 
supporters,  helmet,  and  crest,  richly  carved,  under 
a  triangular  pediment ;  and  on  the  north  and  south 
side  of  the  above  described  ornaments  are  two 
large  cartouches,  all  of  which  parts  are  carved  in 
fine  wainscot.  The  church  is  well  paved  with  oak, 
and  here  are  two  large  brass  branches  and  a  marble 
font,  having  enrichments  of  cherubims,  &c. 

In  a  curious  brass  frame,  attached  to  a  tall 
stem,  opposite  the  pulpit  is  an  hour-glass,  by 
which  the  preacher  could  measure  his  sermon  and 
test  his  listeners'  patience.  The  hour-glass  at  St. 
Dunstan's,  Fleet  Street,  was  taken  down  in  1723, 
and  two  heads  for  the  parish  staves  made  out  of 
the  silver. 

Wood  Street  Compter  (says  Cunningham)  was  first 
established  in  1555,  when,  on  the  Feast  of  St. 
Michael  the  Archangel  in  that  year,  the  prisoners 
were  removed  from  the  Old  Compter  in  Bread  Street 
to  the  New  Compter  in  Wood  Street,  Cheapside. 
This  compter  was  burnt  down  in  the  Great  Fire, 
but  was  rebuilt  in  1670.  It  stood  on  the  east 
side  of  the  street,  and  was  removed  to  Giltspur 
Street  in  1791.  There  were  two  compters  in 
London — the  compter  in  Wood  Street,  under  the 
control  of  one  of  the  sheriffs,  and  the  compter  in 
the  Poultry,  under  the  superintendence  of  the 
other.  Under  each  sheriff  was  a  secondary,  a 
clerk  of  the  papers,  four  clerk  sitters,  eighteen 
serjeants-at-mace  (each  Serjeant  having  his  yeomen), 
a  master  keeper,  and  two  turnkeys.     The  Serjeants 


wore  blue  and  coloured  cloth  gowns,  and  the  words 
of  arrest  were,  "Sir,  we  arrest  you  in  the  King's 
Majesty's  name,  and  we  charge  you  to  obey  us." 
There  -were  three  sides  —  the  master's  side,  the 
dearest  of  all ;  the  knights'  ward,  a  little  cheaper  ; 
and  the  Hole,  the  cheapest  of  all.  The  register  of 
entries  was  called  the  Black  Book.  Garnish  was 
demanded  at  every  step,  and  the  Wood  Street 
Compter  was  hung  with  the  story  of  the  prodigal 
son. 

When  the  Wood  Street  counter  gate  was  opened, 
the  prisoner's  name  was  enrolled  in  the  black  book, 
and  he  was  asked  if  he  was  for  the  master's  side, 
the  Knight's  ward,  or  the  Hole.  At  every  fresh 
door  a  fee  was  demanded,  the  stranger's  hat  or  cloak 
being  detained  if  he  refused  to  pay  the  ^extortion, 
which,  in  prison  language,  was  called  '*  garnish." 
The  first  question  to  a  new  prisoner  was,  whether 
he  was  in  by  arrest  or  command ;  and  there  was 
generally  some  knavish  attorney  in  a  threadbare 
black  suit,  who,  for  forty  shillings,  would  offer  to 
move  for  a  habeas  corpus,  and  have  him  out 
presently,  much  to  the  amusement  of  the  villanous- 
looking  men  who  filled  the  room,  some  smoking 
and  some  drinking.  At  dinner  a  vintner's  boy, 
who  vvas  in  waiting,  filled  a  bowl  full  of  claret, 
and  compelled  the  new  prisoner  to  drink  to  all 
the  society;  and  the  turnkeys,  who  were  dining 
in  another  room,  then  demanded  another  tester 
for  a  quart  of  wine  to  quaff  to  the  new  comer's 
health. 

At  the  end  of  a  week,  when  the  prisoner's  purse 
grew  thin,  he  was  generally  compelled  to  pass  over 
to  the  knight's  side,  and  live  in  a  humbler  and 
more  restricted  manner.  Here  a  fresh  garnish  of 
eighteen  pence  was  demanded,  and  if  this  was 
refused,  he  was  compelled  to  sleep  over  the  drain  ; 
or,  if  he  chose,  to  sit  up,  to  drink  and  smoke  in 
the  cellar  with  vile  companions  till  the  keepers 
ordered  every  man  to  his  bed. 

Fennor,  an  actor  in  16 17  (James  I.),  wrote  a 
curious  pamphlet  on  the  abuses  of  this  compter. 
"  For  what  extreme  extortion," says  the  angry  writer, 
"  is  it  when  a  gentleman  is  brought  in  by  the  watch 
for  some  misdemeanour  committed,  that  he  must 
pay  at  least  an  angell  before  he  be  discharged;  hee 
must  pay  twelvepence  for  turning  the  key  at  the 
master-side  dore  two  shillings  to  the  chamberleine, 
twelvepence  for  his  garnish  for  wine,  tenpence  for 
his  dinner,  whether  he  stay  or  no,  and  when  he 
comes  to  be  discharged  at  the  booke,  it  will  cost 
at  least  three  shillings  and  sixpence  more,  besides 
sixpence  for  the  booke-keeper's  paines,  and  six- 
pence for  the  porter.  .  .  .  And  if  a  gentleman 
stay  there  but  one  night,  he  must  pay  for  his 


Wood  Street.] 


THE  "FRATERNITY  OF  ST.  NICHOLAS." 


369 


garnish  sixteene  pence,  besides  a  groate  for  his 
lodging,  and  so  much  for  his  sheetes.  .  .  When 
a  gentleman  is  upon  his  discharge,  and  hath  given 
satisfaction  for  his  executions,  they  must  have  fees 
for  irons,  three  halfepence  in  the  pound,  besides  the 
other  fees,  so  that  if  a  man  were  in  for  a  thousand 
or  fifteene  hundred  pound  execution,  they  will  if  a 
man  is  so  madde  have  so  many  three  halfepence. 

"  This  little  Hole  is  as  a  little  citty  in  a  com- 
monwealth, for  as  in  a  citty  there  are  all  kinds  of 
officers,  trades,  and  vocations,  so  there  is  in  this 
place,  as  we  may  make  a  pretty  resemblance 
between  them.  In  steede  of  a  Lord  Maior,  we 
have  a  master  steward  to  over-see  and  correct  all 
misdemeanours  as  shall  arise.  .  .  .  And  lastly, 
as  in  a  citty  there  is  all  kinds  of  trades,  so  is  there 
heere,  for  heere  you  shall  see  a  cobler  sitting 
mending  olde  showes,  and  singing  as  merrily  as  if 
hee  were  under  a  stall  abroad  ;  not  farre  from  him 
you  shall  see  a  taylor  sit  crosse-legged  (like  a  witch) 
on  his  cushion,  theatning  the  ruine  of  our  fellow 
prisoner,  the  ./Egyptian  vermine ;  in  another  place 
you  may  behold  a  saddler  empannelling  all  his 
wits  together  how  to  patch  this  Scotchpadde 
handsomely,  or  mend  the  old  gentlewoman's 
crooper  that  was  almost  burst  in  pieces.  You 
may  have  a  phisition  here,  that  for  a  bottle  of  sack 
will  undertake  to  give  you  as  good  a  medicine  for 
melanchoUy  as  any  doctor  will  for  five  pounds. 
Besides,  if  you  desire  to  bee  remouved  before  a 
judge,  you  shall  have  a  tinker-like  attorney  not  farre 
distant  from  you,  that  in  stopping  up  one  hole  in 
a  broken  cause,  will  make  twenty  before  hee  hath 
made  an  end,  and  at  last  will  leave  you  in  prison  as 
bar3  of  money  as  he  himself  is  of  honesty.  Heere 
is  your  cholericke  cooke  that  will  dresse  our  meate, 
when  wee  can  get  any,  as  well  as  any  greasie  scul- 
lion in  Fleet  Lane  or  Pye  Corner." 

At  25,  Silver  Street,  Wood  Street,  is  the  hall  of 
one  of  the  smaller  City  companies — the  Parish 
Clerks  of  London,  Westminster,  Borough  of  South- 
wark,  and  fifteen  out  parishes,  with  their  master 
wardens  and  fellows.  This  company  was  incor- 
porated as  early  as  Henry  III.  (1233),  by  the  name 
of  the  Fraternity  of  St.  Nicholas,  an  ominous  name, 
for  "St. Nicholas's  clerk"  was  a  jocose  nom  de guerre 
for  highwaymen.  The  first  hall  of  the  fraternity  stood 
in  Bishopsgate  Street,  the  second  in  Broad  Lane,  in 
Vintry  Ward.  The  fraternity  was  re-incorporated 
by  James  I.  in  161 1,  and  confirmed  by  Charles  I. 
in  1636.  The  hall  contains  a  few  portraits,  and  in 
a  painted  glass  window,  David  playing  on  the  harp, 
St.  Cecilia  at  the  organ,  &c.  The  parish  clerks 
were  the  actors  in  the  old  miracle  plays,  the  parish 
clerks  of  our  churches  dating  only  from  the  com- 


mencement of  the  Reformation.  The  "  Bills  of 
Mortality  "  were  commenced  by  the  Parish  Clerks' 
Company  in  1592,  who  about  1625  were  licensed 
by  the  Star  Chamber  to  keep  a  printing-press  in 
their  hall  for  printing  the  bills,  valuable  for  their 
warning  of  the  existence  or  progress  of  the  plague, 
The  "  Weekly  Bill "  of  the  Parish  Clerks  has,  how- 
ever, been  superseded  by  the  "Tables  of  Mortality  in 
the  Metropolis,"  issued  weekly  from  the  Registrar- 
General's  Office,  at  Somerset  House,  since  July 
ist,  1837.  The  Parish  Clerks'  Company  neither 
confer  the  freedom  of  the  City,  nor  the  hereditary 
freedom. 

There  is  a  large  gold  refinery  in  Wood  Street, 
through  whose  doors  three  tons  of  gold  a  day  have 
been  known  to  pass.  AustraHan  gold  is  here  cast 
into  ingots,  value  ;!^8oo  each.  This  gold  is  one  carat 
and  three  quarters  above  the  standard,  and  when  the 
first  two  bars  of  Australian  gold  were  sent  to  the 
Bank  of  England  they  were  sent  back,  as  their  won- 
derful purity  excited  suspicion.  For  refining,  the 
gold  is  boiled  fifteen  minutes,  poured  off  into 
hand  moulds  18  pounds  troy  weight,  strewn  with 
ivory  black,  and  then  left  to  cool.  You  see  here 
the  stalwart  men  wedging  apart  great  bars  of  silver 
for  the  melting  pots.  The  silver  is  purified  in 
a  blast-furnace,  and  mixed  with  nitric  acid  in  pla- 
tinum crucibles,  that  cost  from  jQ^oo  to  ^^  1,000 
apiece.  The  bars  of  gold  arc  stamped  with  a 
trade-mark,  and  pieces  are  cut  off  each  ingot  to 
be  sent  to  the  assayer  for  his  report. 

"  I  read  in  divers  records,"  says  Stow,  "  of  a  house 
in  Wood  Street  then  called  '  Black  Hall ; '  but  no 
man  at  this  day  can  tell  thereof.  In  the  time  of 
King  Richard  II.,  Sir  Henry  Percy,  the  son  and 
heir  of  Henry  Percy,  Earl  of  Northumberland,  had 
a  house  in  '  Wodstreate,'  in  London  (whether 
this  Black  Hall  or  no,  it  is  hard  to  trace),  wherein 
he  treated  King  Richard,  the  Duke  of  Lancaster, 
the  Duke  of  York,  the  Earl  Marshal,  and  his  father, 
the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  with  others,  at 
supper." 

The  "  Rose,"  in  Wood  Street,  was  a  sponging- 
house,  well  known  to  the  rakehells  and  spend- 
thrifts of  Charles  II.'s  time.  "  I  have  been  too 
lately  under  their  (the  bailiffs')  clutches,"  says  Tom 
Brown,  "to  desire  any  'more  dealings  with  them, 
and  I  cannot  come  within  a  furlong  of  the  '  Rose ' 
sponging-house  without  five  or  six  yellow-boys  in  my 
pocket  to  cast  out  those  devils  there,  who  would 
otherwise  infallibly  take  possession  of  me." 

The  "  Mitre,"  an  old  tavern  in  Wood  Street,  was 
kept  in  Charles  II.'s  time  by  William  Proctor,  who 
died  insolvent  in  1665.  "  i8th  Sept.,  1660,"  Pepys 
says,  "  to  the  '  Miter  Taverne,'  in  Wood  Street  (a 


370 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Wood  Street. 


house  of  the  greatest  note  in  London).  Here  some 
of  us  fell  to  handycap,  a  sport  that  I  never  knew 
before."  And  again,  "31st  July,  1665.  Proctor, 
the  vintner,  of  the  'Miter,'  in  Wood  Street,  and 
his  son,  are  dead  this  morning  of  the  plague ;  he 
having  laid  out  abundance  of  money  there,  and 
was  the  greatest  vintner  for  some  time  in  London 
for  great  entertainments." 

In  early  life  Thomas  Ripley,  afterwards  a  cele- 
brated architect,  kept  a  carpenter's  shop  and  coffee 
house  in  Wood  Street.  Marrying  a  servant  of  Sir 
Robert  Walpole,  the  Prime  Minister  of  George  I., 
this  lucky  pushing  man  soon 
obtained  work  from  the  Crown 
and  a  seat  at  the  Board  of 
Works,  and  supplanted  that 
great  genius  who  built  St. 
Paul's,  to  the  infinite  disgrace 
of  the  age.  Ripley  built  the 
Admiralty,  and  Houghton 
Hall,  Norfolk,  for  his  early 
patron,  Walpole,  and  died 
rich  in  1758. 

Wood  Street  is  associated 
with  that  last  extraordinary 
outburst  of  the  Civil  War 
fanaticism  —  the  Anabaptist 
rising  in  January,  1661. 

On  Sunday,  January  6, 
1661,  we  read  in  "Somers' 
Tracts,"  **  these  monsters 
assembled  at  their  meeting- 
house, in  Coleman  Street, 
where  they  armed  themselves, 
and  sallying  thence,  came  to 
St.  Paul's  in  the  dusk  of 
the  evening,  and  there,  after 
ordering  their  small  party,  placed  sentinels,  one  of 
whom  killed  a  person  accidentally  passing  by,  be- 
cause he  said  he  was  for  God  and  King  Charles 
when  challenged  by  him.  This  giving  the  alann, 
and  some  parties  of  trained  bands  charging  them, 
and  being  repulsed,  they  marched  to  Bishopsgate, 
thence  to  Cripplegate  and  Aldersgate,  where,  going 
out,  in  spite  of  the  constables  and  watch,  they  de- 
clared for  King  Jesus.  Proceeding  to  Beech  Lane, 
they  killed  a  headborough,  who  would  have  opposed 
them.  It  was  observed  that  all  they  shot,  though 
never  so  slightly  wounded,  died.  Then  they  hasted 
away  to  Cane  Wood,  where  they  lurked,  resolved 
to  make  another  effort  upon  the  City,  but  were 
drove  thence,  and  routed  by  a  party  of  horse  and 
foot,  sent  for  that  purpose,  about  thirty  being  taken 
and  brought  before  General  Monk,  who  committed 
them  to  the  Gate  House. 


PUI.PIT  HouR-Gi.Ass  {see page  ^^%\ 


"  Nevertheless,  the  others  who  had  escaped  out 
of  the  wood  returned  to  London,  not  doubting 
of  success  in  their  enterprise  ;  Venner,  a  wine- 
cooper  by  trade,  and  their  head,  affirming,  he  was 
assured  that  no  weapons  employed  against  them 
would  prosper,  nor  a  hair  of  their  head  be  touched ; 
which  their  coming  off  at  first  so  well  made  them 
willing  to  believe.  These  fellows  had  taken  the 
opportunity  of  the  king's  being  gone  to  Ports- 
mouth, having  before  made  a  disposition  for  drawing 
to  them  of  other  desperate  rebels,  by  publisliing  a 
declaration  called,  '  A  Door  of  Hope  Opened,' 
full  of  abominable  slanders 
against  the  whole  royal  family. 
"  On  Wednesday  morning, 
January  9,  after  the  watches 
and  guards  were  dismissed, 
they  resumed  their  first  enter- 
prise. The  first  appearance 
was  in  Threadneedle  Street, 
where  they  alarmed  the  trained 
bands  upon  duty  that  day, 
and  drove  back  a  party  sent 
after  them,  to  their  main 
guard,  which  then  marched  in 
a  body  towards  them.  The 
Fifth  Monarchists  retired  into 
Bishopsgate  Street,  where  some 
of  them  took  into  an  ale- 
house, known  by  the  sign  of 
'The  Helmet,'  where,  after  a 
sharp  dispute,  two  were  killed, 
and  as  many  taken,  the  same 
number  of  the  trained  bands 
being  killed  and  wounded. 
The  next  sight  of  them  (for 
they  vanished  and  appeared 
again  on  a  sudden),  was  at  College  Hill,  which 
way  they  went  into  Cheapside,  and  so  into  Wood 
Street,  Venner  leading  them,  with  a  morrion  on  his 
head  and  a  halbert  in  his  hand.  Here  was  the 
main  and  hottest  action,  for  they  fought  stoutly 
with  the  Trained  Bands,  and  received  a  charge 
from  the  Life  Guards,  whom  they  obliged  to  give 
way,  until,  being  overpowered,  and  Venner  knocked 
down  and  wounded  and  shot,  Tufney  and  Crag, 
two  others  of  their  chief  teachers,  being  killed  by 
him,  they  began  to  give  ground,  and  soon  after 
dispersed,  flying  outright  and  taking  several  ways. 
The  greatest  part  of  them  went  down  Wood  Street 
to  Cripplegate,  firing  in  the  rear  at  the  Yellow 
Trained  Bands,  then  in  close  pursuit  of  them.  Ten 
of  them  took  into  the  'Blue  Anchor'  ale-house, 
near  the  postern,  which  house  they  maintained  until 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Cox,  with  his  company,  secured 


WoodStreet.j  ST.   JOHN   2ACHARY— ST.   ANNE  IN   THE  WILLOWS. 


37t 


all  the  avenues  to  it.  In  the  meantime,  some  of  the 
aforesaid  Yellow  Trained  Bands  got  upon  the  tiles 
of  the  next  house,  which  they  threw  off,  and  fired 
in  upon  the  rebels  who  were  in  the  upper  room, 
and  even  then  refused  quarter.  At  the  same  time, 
another  file  of  musketeers  got  up  the  stairs,  and 
having  shot  down  the  door,  entered  upon  them. 
Six  of  them  were  killed  before,  another  wounded, 
and  one,  refusing  quarter,  was  knocked  down,  and 
afterwards  shot.  The  others  being  asked  why 
they  had  not  begged  quarter  before,  answered  they 
durst  not,  for  fear  their  own  fellows  should  shoot 
them."' 

The  upshot  of  this  insane  revolt  of  a  handful  of 
men  was  that  twenty-two  king's  men  were  killed, 
and  twenty-two  of  the  fanatics,  proving  the  fighting 
to  have  been  hard.  Twenty  were  taken,  and  nine 
or  ten  hung,  drawn,  and  quartered.  Venner, 
the  leader,  who  was  wounded  severely,  and  some 
others,  were  drawn  on  sledges,  their  quarters  were 
set  on  the  four  gates,  and  their  heads  stuck  on 
poles  on  London  Bridge.  Two  more  were  hung 
at  the  west  end  of  St.  Paul's,  two  at  the  Royal 
Exchange,  two  at  the  Bull  and  Mouth,  two  in 
Beech  Lane,  one  at  Bishopsgate,  and  another,  cap- 
tured later,  was  hung  at  Tyburn,  and  his  head  set 
on  a  pole  in  Whitechapel. 

The  texts  these  Fifth  Monarchy  men  chiefly 
relied  on  were  these  : — "  He  shall  use  his  people, 
in  his  hand  as  his  battle-axe  and  weapon  of  war, 
for  the  bringing  in  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  into 
subjection  to  Him."  A  few  Scriptures  (and  but 
a  few)  as  to  this,  Isa.  xli.  14th  verse;  but  more 
especially  the  15  th  and  i6th  verses.  The  prophet, 
speaking  of  Jacob,  saith  :  "  Behold,  I  will  make 
thee  a  new  sharp  threshing  instrument,  having 
teeth  ;  thou  shalt  thresh  the  mountains,  and  beat 
them  small,  and  shalt  make  the  hills  as  chaff;  thou 
shalt  fan  them,  and  the  wind  shall  carry  them 
away,"  &c. 

"  Maiden  Lane,"  says  Stow,  "  formerly  Engine 
Lane,  is  a  good,  handsome,  well-built,  and  in- 
habited street.  The  east  end  falleth  into  .Wood 
Street.  At  the  north-east  corner,  over  against 
Goldsmiths'  Hall,  stood  the  parish  church  of  St. 
John  Zachary,  which  since  the  dreadful  fire  is  not 
rebuilt,  but  the  parish  united  unto  St.  Ann's,  Alders- 
gate,  the  ground  on  which  it  stood,  enclosed  within 
a  wall,  serving  as  a  burial-place  for  the  parish." 

The  old  Goldsmiths'  Church  of  St.  John  Zachary, 
Maiden  Lane,  destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire,  and  not 
rebuilt,  stood  at  the  north-west  corner  of  Maiden 
I^ane,  in  the  Ward  of  Aldersgate ;  the  parish  is 
annexed  to  that  of  St.  Anne.  Among  other 
epitaphs  in  this  church,  Stow  gives  the  following  : — 


"  Here  lieth  the  body  of  John  Sutton,  citizen,  goldsmith, 
and  alderman  of  London  ;  who  died  6th  July,  1450.  This 
brave  and  worthy  alderman  was  killed  in  the  defence  of  the 
City,  in  the  bloody  nocturnal  battle  on  London  Bridge, 
against  the  infamous  Jack.  Cade,  and  his  army  of  Kentish 
rebels." 

"  Here  lieth  William  Brekespere,   of  London,   some  time 
merchant, 
Goldsmith  and  alderman,  the  Commonwele  attendant, 
With  Margaryt  his  Dawter,  late  wyff  of  Suttoon, 
And  Thomas,  hur  Sonn,  yet  livyn  undyr  Goddy's  tiiitioon. 
The  tenth  of  July  he  made  his  transmigration. 
She  disissyd  in  the  yer  of  Grase  of  Chiyst's  Incarnation, 
A  Thowsand  Four  hundryd  Threescor  and  oon. 
God  assoyl  their  Sowls  whose  Bodys  lye  undyr  this  Stoon." 

This  church  was  rated  to  pay  a  certain  annual 
sum  to  the  canons  of  St.  Paul's,  about  the  year 
1 181,  at  which  time  it  was  denominated  St.  John 
Baptist's,  as  appears  from  a  grant  thereof  from  the 
Dean  and  Chapter  of  St.  Paul's  to  one  Zachary, 
whose  name  it  probably  received  to  distinguish 
it  from  one  of  the  same  name  in  Walbrook. 

St.  Anne  in  the  Willows  was  a  church  destroyed 
by  the  Great  Fire,  rebuilt  by  Wren,  and  united 
to  the  parish  of  St.  John  Zachary.  "  It  is  so 
called,"  says  Stow,  "  some  say  of  willows  growing 
thereabouts ;  but  now  there  is  no  such  void  place 
for  willows  to  grow,  more  than  the  church-yard, 
wherein  grow  some  high  ash-trees." 

"This  church,  standing,"  says  Strype,  "in  the 
church-yard,  is  planted  before  with  lime-trees  that 
flourish  there.  So  that  as  it  was  formerly  called 
St.  Anne-in-the-Willows,  it  may  now  be  called  St. 
Anne-in-the- Limes." 

St.  Anne  can  be  traced  back  as  far  as  1332. 
The  patronage  was  anciently  in  the  Dean  and 
Canons  of  St.  Martin's-le-Grand,  in  whose  gift 
it  continued  till  Henry  VII.  annexed  that  Col- 
legiate Church,  with  its  appendages,  to  the  Abbey 
of  Westminster.  In  1553  Queen  Mary  gave  it  to 
the  Bishop  of  London  and  his  successors.  One 
of  the  monuments  here  bears  the  following  in- 
scription : — 

"  Peter  Heiwood,  younger  son  of  Peter  Heiwood,  one  of 
the  counsellors  of  Jamaica,  by  Grace,  daughter  of  Sir  John 
Muddeford,  Kt.  and  Bart.,  great-grandson  to  Peter  Hei- 
wood, of  Heywood,  in  County  Palatine  of  Lancaster,  who 
apprehended  Guy  Faux  with  his  dark  lanthorn,  and  for  his 
zealous  prosecution  of  Papists,  as  Justice  of  the  Peace,  was 
stabbed  in  Westminster  Hall  by  John  James,  a  Dominican 
Friar,  An.  Dom.  1640.  Obiit,  Novr.  2,  1701. 
"  Reader,  if  not  a  Papist  bred, 
Upon  such  ashes  gently  tred." 

The  site  of  Haberdashers'  Hall,  in  Maiden 
Lane,  opposite  Goldsmiths'  Hall,  was  bequeathed 
to  the  Company  by  WiUiam  Baker,  a  London 
haberdasher,  in  1478  (Edward  IV.).  In  the  old 
hall,  destroyed  by  the  Great  Fire,  the  Parliament 


372 


OLD  AND    NEW    LONDON. 


[Wood  Street. 


Commissioners  held  their  meetings  during  the 
Commonwealth,  and  many  a  stern  decree  of  con- 
fiscation was  there  grimly  signed.  In  this  hall 
there  are  some  good  portraits.  The  Haberdashers' 
Company  have  many  livings  and  exhibitions  in 
their  gift;  and  almhouses  at  Hoxton,  Monmouth, 
Newland  (Gloucestershire),  and    Newport   (Shrop- 


one  being  hurrers,  cappers,  or  haberdashers  of  hats  ; 
the  other,  haberdashers  of  ribands,  laces,  and  small 
wares  only.  The  latter  were  also  called  milliners, 
from  their  selling  such  merchandise  as  brooches, 
agglets,  spurs,  capes,  glasses,  and  pins.  "  In  the 
early  part  of  Elizabeth's  reign,"  says  Herbert,  "  up- 
wards of  ;!^6o,ooo  annually  was    paid  to  foreign 


INTERIOR   OF   ST.    MICHAEL'S,    WOOD   STREET   {see page  365). 


shire;  schools  in  Bunhill  Row,  Monmouth,  and 
Newport;  and  they  lend  sums  of  ^^50  or  ;^ioo 
to  struggling  young  men  of  their  own  trade. 

The  haberdashers  were  originally  a  branch  of 
the  mercers,  dealing  like  them  in  merceries  or 
small  wares.  Lydgate,  in  his  ballad,  describes  the 
mercers'  and  haberdashers'  stalls  as  side  by  side  in 
the  mercery  in  Chepe.  In  the  reign  of  Henry  VI., 
when  first  incorporated,  they  divided  into  two 
fraternities,  St.  Catherine  and  St.  Nicholas.     The 


merchants  for  pins  alone,  but  before  her  death 
pins  were  made  in  England,  and  in  the  reign  of 
James  I.  the  pinmakers  obtained  a  charter." 

In  the  reign  of  Henry  VII.  the  two  societies 
united.  Queen  Elizabeth  granted  them  their  arms  : 
Barry  nebule  of  six,  argent  and  azure  on  a  bend 
gules,  a  lion  passant  gardant ;  crest  or,  a  helmet 
and  torse,  two  arms  supporting  a  laurel  proper  and 
issuing  out  of  a  cloud  argent.  Supporters,  two 
Indian  goats  argent,  attired  and  hoofed  or;  motto, 


Wood  Street.] 


HABERDASHERS'    HALL. 


373 


"Serve    and    Obey."      Maitland    describes    their  j  horns,  tooth-picks,  fans,  pomanders,  silk,  and  silver 


annual  expenditure  in  charity  as  ^^3,500.  The 
number  of  the  Company  consists  of  one  master, 
four  wardens,  forty-five  assistants,  360  livery,  and 
a  large  company  of  freemen.  This  Company  is  the 
eighth  in  order  of  the  chief  twelve  City  Companies. 


buttons. 

The  Haberdashers  were  incorporated  by  a  Charter 
of  Queen  EHzabeth  in  1578.  The  Court  books 
extend  to  the  time  of  Charles  I.  only.  Their 
charters    exist    in   good    preservation.       In    their 


INTERIOR     OF     HABERDASHERS'   HALL. 


In  the  reign  of  Edward  VI.  there  were  not  more 
than  a  dozen  milliner's  shops  in  all  London,  but  in 
1580  the  dealers  in  foreign  luxuries  had  so  increased 
as  to  alarm  the  frugal  and  the  philosophic.  These 
dealers  sold  French  and  Spanish  gloves,  French 
cloth  and  frieze,  Flemish  kersies,  daggers,  swords, 
knives,  Spanish  girdles,  painted  cruises,  dials, 
tablets,  cards,  balls,  glasses,  fine  earthen  pots,  salt- 
cellars, spoons,  tin  dishes,  puppets,  pennons,  ink- 
32 


chronicles  we  have  only  a  kw  points  to  notice. 
In  1466  they  sent  two  of  their  members  to  attend 
the  coronation  of  Elizabeth,  queen  of  Edward  IV., 
and  they  also  were  represented  at  the  coronation 
of  the  detestable  Richard  III.  Like  the  other 
Companies,  the  Haberdashers  were  much  oppressed 
during  the  time  of  Charles  I.  and  the  Common- 
wealth, during  which  they  lost  nearly  ;j^5o,ooo. 
The    Company's    original    bye-laws    having   been 


374 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[CheapsiJc. 


burnt  in  the  Great  Fire,  a  new  code  was  drawn 
up,  which  in  1675  was  sanctioned  by  Lord  Chan- 
cellor Finch,  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  and  Sir  Francis 
North. 

The  dining-hall  is  a  lofty  and  spacious  room. 
About  ten  years  since  it  was  much  injured  by 
fire,  but  has  been  since  restored  and  handsomely 
decorated.  Over  the  screen  at  the  lower  end  is 
a  music  gallery,  and  the  hall  is  lighted  from  above 
by  six  sun-burners.  Among  the  portraits  in  the 
edifice  are  whole  lengths  of  William  Adams,  Esq., 
founder  of  the  grammar  school  and  almshouses  at 
Newport,  in  Shropshire;  Jerome  Knapp,  Esq.,  a 
fomier  Master  of  the  Company ;  and  Micajah 
Perry,  Esq.,  Lord  Mayor  in  1739;  a  half-length 
of  George  Whitmore,  Esq.,  Lord  Mayor  in  1631 ; 
Sir  Hugh  Hammersley,  Knight,  Lord  Mayor  in 
1627;  Mr.  Thomas  Aldersey,  merchant,  of  Ban- 
bury, in  Cheshire,  who,  in  1594,  vested  a  consider- 
able estate  in  this  Company  for  charitable  uses ; 
Mr.  William  Jones,  merchant  adventurer,  who  be- 
queathed ;]^i 8,000  for  benevolent  purposes;  and 
Robert  Aske,  the  worthy  founder  of  the  Haber- 
dashers' Hospital  at  Hoxton. 

Gresham  Street,  that  intersects  Wood  Street, 
was  formerly  called  Lad  or  Ladle  Lane,  and 
part  of  it  Maiden  Lane,  from  a  shop  sign  of  the 
Virgin.  It  is  written  Lad  Lane  in  a  chronicle 
of  Edward  IV. 's  time,  published  by  Sir  Harris 
Nicolas,  page  98.  The  "  Swan  with  Two  Necks," 
in  Lad  Lane,  was  for  a  century  and  more,  till 
railvvays  ruined  stage  and  mail  coacli  travelling, 


the  booking  office  and  head-quarters  of  coaches  to 
the  North. 

Love  Lane  was  so  named  from  the  wantons 
who  once  infested  it.  The  Cross  Keys  Inn  derived 
its  name  from  the  bygone  Church  of  St.  Peter 
before  mentioned.  As  there  are  traditions  of  Saxon 
kings  once  dwelling  in  Foster  Lane,  so  in  Gutter 
Lane  we  find  traditions  of  some  Danish  celebrities. 
"Gutter  Lane,"  says  Stow,  that  patriarch  of  London 
topography,  "  was  so  called  by  Guthurun,  some 
time  owner  thereof."  In  a  manuscript  chronicle  of 
London,  written  in  the  reign  of  Edward  IV.,  and 
edited  by  Sir  N.  H.  Nicolas,  it  is  called  "  Goster 
Lane." 

Brewers'  Hall,  No.  19,  Addle  Street,  Wood  Street, 
Cheapside,  is  a  modern  edifice,  and  contains,  among 
other  pictures,  a  portrait  of  Dame  Alice  Owen, 
who  narrowly  escaped  death  from  an  archer's  stray 
arrow  while  walking  in  Islington  fields,  in  gratitude 
for  which  she  founded  an  hospital.  In  the  hall 
window  is  some  old  painted  glass.  The  Brewers 
were  incorporated  in  1438.  The  quarterage  in  this 
Company  is  paid  on  the  quantity  of  malt  consumed 
by  its  members.  In  185 1  a  handsome  school- 
house  was  built  for  the  Company,  in  Trinity  Square, 
Tower  Hill. 

In  1422  Whittington  laid  an  information  before 
his  successor  in  the  mayoralty,  Robert  Childe, 
against  the  Brewers'  Company,  for  selling  dear  ale, 
when  they  were  convicted  in  the  penalty  of  ;!^2o  ; 
and  the  masters  were  ordered  to  be  kept  in  prison 
in  the  chamberlain's  custody  until  they  paid  it. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

CHEAPSIDE    TRIBUTARIES,    NORTH  {.continued). 

Milk  Street— Sir  Thomas  More — The  City  of  London  School— St.  Mary  M.-igdalen— Honey  Lane— All  Hallows'  Church— Lawrence  Lane  and 
Sf.  Lawrence  Church— Ironmonger  Lane  and  Mercers'  Hall— The  Mercers'  Company — Early  Life  Assurance  Companies — The  Mercers' 
Company  in  Trouble-  Mercers'  Chapel— St.  Thomas  Aeon— The  Mercers'  School— Restoration  of  the  Carvings  in  Mercers'  Hall— The 
Glories  of  the  Mercers'  Company — Ironmonger  Lane. 


In  Milk  Street  was  the  milk-market  of  Mediaeval 
London.  That  good  and  wise  man,  Sir  Thomas 
More,  was  born  in  this  street.  **  The  brightest 
man,"  says  Fuller,  with  his  usual  quaint  playful- 
ness, "  that  ever  shone  in  that  via  ladea."  More, 
born  in  1480,  was  the  son  of  a  judge  of  the 
King's  Bench,  and  was  educated  at  St.  Anthony's 
School,  in  Threadneedle  Street.  He  was  afterwards 
placed  in  the  family  of  Archbishop  Morton,  till  he 
went  to  Oxford.  After  two  years  he  became  a  bar- 
rister, at  Lincoln,  entered  Parliament,  and  opposed 
Henry  VII.  to  his  own  danger.  After  serving 
as  law  reader  at  New  Inn,  he  soon  became  an 


eminent  lawyer.  He  then  wrote  his  "  Utopia," 
acquired  the  friendship  of  Erasmus,  and  soon  after 
became  a  favourite  of  Henry  VIIL,  helping  the 
despot  in  his  treatise  against  Luther.  On  Wolsey's 
disgrace,  More  became  chancellor,  and  one  of  the 
wisest  and  most  impartial  England  has  ever  known. 
Determined  not  to  sanction  the  king's  divorce. 
More  resigned  his  chancellorship,  and,  refusing  to 
attend  Anne  Boleyn's  coronation,  he  was  attainted 
for  treason.  The  tyrant,  now  furious,  soon  hurried 
him  to  the  scafibld,  and  he  was  executed  on  Tower 
Hill  in  1535. 
This  pious,  wise,  and  consistent  man  is  described 


Cheapside.] 


THE   CITY   OF   LONDON   SCHOOL. 


375 


as  having  dark  chestnut  hair,  thin  beard,  and  grey 
eyes.  He  walked  with  his  right  shoulder  raised, 
and  was  negligent  in  his  dress.  When  in  the  Tower, 
More  is  said  to  have  foreseen  the  fate  of  Anne 
Boleyn,  whom  his  daughter  Margaret  had  found 
filling  the  court  with  dancing  and  sporting. 

"Alas,  Meg,"  said  the  ex-chancellor,  "itpitieth 
me  to  remember  to  what  misery  poor  soul  she 
will  shortly  come.  These  dances  of  hers  will 
prove  such  dances  that  she  will  sport  our  heads 
off  like  foot-balls ;  but  it  will  not  be  long  ere  her 
head  will  dance  the  like  dance." 

It  is  to  be  lamented  that  with  all  his  wisdom, 
More  was  a  bigot.  He  burnt  one  Frith  for  deny- 
ing the  corporeal  presence ;  had  James  Bainton,  a 
gentleman  of  the  Temple,  whipped  in  his  presence 
for  heretical  opinons  ;  went  to  the  Tower  to  see  him 
on  the  rack,  and  then  hurried  him  to  Smithfield. 
"Verily,"  said  Luther,  "  he  was  a  very  notable 
tyrant,  and  plagued  and  tormented  innocent  Chris- 
tians like  an  executioner." 

The  City  of  London  School,  Milk  Street,  was 
established  in  1837,  for  the  sons  of  respectable  per- 
sons engaged  in  professional,  commercial,  or  trading 
pursuits ;  and  partly  founded  on  an  income  of 
;^9oo  a  year,  derived  from  certain  tenements  be- 
queathed by  John  Carpenter,  town-clerk  of  London, 
in  the  reign  of  Henry  V.,  "for  the  finding  and 
bringing  up  of  four  poor  men's  children,  with  meat, 
drink,  apparel,  learning  at  the  schools,  in  the  uni- 
versities, &c.,  until  they  be  preferred,  and  then 
others  in  their  places  for  ever."  This  was  the  same 
John  Carpenter  who  "  caused,  with  great  expense,  to 
be  curiously  painted  upon  a  board,  about  the  north 
cloister  of  Paul's,  a  monument  of  Death,  leading 
all  estates,  with  the  speeches  of  Death,  and  answers 
of  every  state."  The  school  year  is  divided  into 
three  terms — Easter  to  July  ;  August  to  Christmas  ; 
January  to  Easter ;  and  the  charge  for  each  pupil 
is  £,2  5s.  a  term.  The  printed  form  of  application 
for  admission  may  be  had  of  the  secretary,  and  must 
be  filled  up  by  the  parent  or  guardian,  and  signed 
by  a  member  of  the  Corporation  of  London.  The 
general  course  of  instruction  includes  the  English, 
French,  German,  Latin,  and  Greek  languages, 
writing,  arithmetic,  mathematics,  book-keeping, 
geography,  and  history.  Besides  eight  free 
scholarships  on  the  foundation,  equivalent  to 
;j£"35  per  annum  each,  and  available  as  exlii- 
bitions  to  the  Universities,  there  are  the  following 
exhibitions  belonging  to  the  school : — The  "Times" 
Scholarship,  value  ;^3o  per  annum ;  three  Beaufoy 
Scholarships,  the  Solomons  Scholarship,  and  the 
Travers  Scholarship,  ^£^0  per  annum  each  ;  the 
Tegg    Scholarship,  nearly  ;!^2o  per  annum  ;    and 


several  other  valuable  prizes.  The  first  stone  of 
the  school  was  laid  by  Lord  Brougham,  October 
2ist,  1835.  The  architect  of  the  building  was  Mr. 
J.  B.  Bunning,  of  Guildford  Street,  Russell  Square, 
and  the  entire  cost,  including  fittings  and  furniture, 
was  nearly  p^2o,ooo.  It  is  about  75  feet  wide  in 
front,  next  Milk  Street,  and  is  about  160  feet  long  ; 
it  contains  eleven  class-rooms  of  various  dimensions, 
a  spacious  theatre  for  lectures,  &c.,  a  library,  com- 
mittee-room, with  a  commodious  residence  in  the 
front  for  the  head  master  and  his  family.  The 
lectures,  founded  by  Sir  Thomas  Gresham,  on  di- 
vinity, astronomy,  music,  geometry,  law,  physics,  and 
rhetoric,  which  upon  the  demolition  of  Gresham 
College  had  been  delivered  at  the  Royal  Exchange 
from  the  year  1773,  were  after  the  destruction  of 
that  building  by  fire,  in  January,  1838,  read  in  the 
theatre  of  the  City  of  London  School  until  1843; 
they  were  delivered  each  day  during  the  four  Law 
Terms,  and  the  public  in  general  were  entitled 
to  free  admission. 

In  Milk  Street  stood  the  small  parish  church  of 
St.  Mary  Magdalen,  destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire. 
It  was  repaired  and  beautified  at  the  charge  of  the 
parish  in  16 19.  All  the  chancel  window  was  built 
at  the  proper  cost  of  Mr.  Benjamin  Henshaw, 
Merchant  Taylor,  and  one  of  the  City  captains. 

This  church  was  burnt  down  in  the  Great  Fire, 
and  was  not  rebuilt.  One  amusing  epitaph  has 
been  preserved  : — 

"  Here  lieth  the  body  of  Sir  William  Stone,  Knt. 
"  As  the  Earth  the 
Eartli  doth  cover, 
So  under  this  stone 

Lyes  another  ; 
Sir  William  Stone, 

Who  long  deceased, 
Ere  the  world's  love 

Him  released  ; 
So  much  it  loved  him, 

For  they  say. 
He  answered  Death 

Before  his  day ; 
But,  'tis  not  so  ; 

For  he  was  sought 
Of  One  that  both  him 

Made  and  bought. 
He  remain'd 

The  Great  Lord's  Treasurer, 
Who  called  for  him 

At  his  pleasure, 
And  received  him. 

Yet  be  it  said. 
Earth  grieved  that  Heaven 
So  soon  was  paid.  ■  . 

"  Here  likewise  lyes 

Inhumed  in  one  bed,  i 

Dear  Barbara, 
The  well-beloved  wife 


376 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Cheapside. 


Of  this  remembered  Knight ; 

Whose  souls  are  fled 
From  this  dimure  vale 

To  everlasting  life, 
Where  no  more  change. 

Nor  no  more  separation, 
Shall  make 'them  flye 

From  their  blest  habitation. 

Grasse  of  levitie, 

Span  in  brevity, 

Flower's  felicity. 

Fire  of  misery, 

Wind's  stability, 

Is  mortality." 

"  Honey  Lane,"  says  good  old  Stow,  "  is  so  called 
not  of  sweetness  thereof,  being  very  narrow  and  small 
and  dark,  but  rather  of  often  washing  and  sweeping 
to  keep  it  clean."  With  all  due  respect  to  Stow, 
we  suspect  that  the  lane  did  not  derive  its  name 
from  any  superlative  cleanliness,  but  more  probably 
from  honey  being  sold  here  in  the  times  before  sugar 
became  common  and  honey  alone  was  used  by 
cooks  for  sweetening. 

On  the  site  of  All  Hallows*  Church,  destroyed 
in  the  Great  Fire,  a  market  was  afterwards  esta- 
blished. 

"  There  be  no  monuments,"  says  Stow,  "  in  this 
church  worth  the  noting ;  I  find  that  John  Nor- 
man, Maior,  1453,  was  buried  there.  He  gave  to 
the  drapers  his  tenements  on  the  north  side  of  the 
said  church ;  they  to  allow  for  the  beam  light  and 
lamp  13s.  4d.  yearly,  from  this  lane  to  the  Standard. 

"  This  church  hath  the  misfortune  to  have  no  be- 
quests to  church  or  jioor,  nor  to  any  publick  use. 

"  There  was  a  parsonage  house  before  the  Great 
Fire,  but  now  the  ground  on  which  it  stood  is  swal- 
lowed up  by  the  market.  The  parish  of  St.  Mary- 
le-Bow  (to  which  it  is  united)  hath  received  all 
the  money  paid  for  the  site  of  the  ground  of  the 
said  parsonage." 

All  Hallows'  Church  was  repaired  and  beautified 
at  the  cost  of  the  parishioners  in  1625. 

Lawrence  Lane  derives  its  name  from  the  church 
of  St.  Lawrence,  at  its  north  end.  "Antiquities,"  says 
Stow,  "  in  this  lane  I  find  none  other  than  among 
many  fair  houses.  There  is  one  large  inn  for  re- 
ceipt of  travellers,  called  '  Blossoms  Inn/  but  cor- 
ruptly '  Bosoms  Inn,'  and  hath  for  a  sign  '  St.  Law- 
rence, the  Deacon,'  in  a  border  of  blossoms  or 
flowers."  This  was  one  of  the  great  City  inns  set 
apart  for  Charles  V.'s  suite,  when  he  came  over  to 
visit  Henry  VIII.  in  1522.  At  the  sign  of  "St. 
Lawrence  Bosoms"  twenty  beds  and  stabling  for 
sixty  horses  were  ordered. 

The  curious  old  tract  about  Bankcs  and  his 
trained  horse  was  written  under  the  assumed  names 


of  "  John  Dando,  the  wier-drawer  of  Hadley,  and 
Harrie  Runt,  head  ostler  of  Besomes  Inne,''  which 
is  probably  the  same  place. 

St.  Lawrence  Church  is  situate  on  the  north  side 
of  Cateaton  Street,  "  and  is  denominated,"  says 
Maitland,  "from  its  dedication  to  Lawrence,  a 
Spanish  saint,  born  at  Huesca,  in  the  kingdom  of 
Arragon;  who,  after  having  undergone  the  most 
grievous  tortures,  in  the  persecution  under  Valerian, 
the  emperor,  was  cruelly  broiled  alive  upon  a  grid- 
iron, with  a  slow  fire,  till  he  died,  for  his  strict  ad- 
herence to  Christianity ;  and  the  additional  epithet 
of  Jewry,  from  its  situation  among  the  Jews,  was 
conferred  upon  it,  to  distinguish  it  from  the  church 
of  St.  Lawrence  Pulteney,  now  demolished. 

"  This  church,  which  was  anciently  a  rectory, 
being  given  by  Hugo  de  Wickenbroke  to  Baliol 
College  in  Oxford,  anno  1294,  the  rectory  ceased; 
wherefore  Richard,  Bishop  of  London,  converted  the 
same  into  a  vicarage ;  the  advowson  whereof  still 
continues  in  the  same  college.  This  church  sharing 
the  common  fate  in  1666,  it  has  since  been  beauti- 
fully rebuilt,  and  the  parish  of  St.  Mary  Magdalen, 
Milk  Street,  thereunto  annexed."  The  famous  Sir 
Richard  Gresham  lies  buried  here,  with  the  follow- 
ing inscription  on  his  tomb  : — 

"  Here  lyeth  the  great  Sir  Richard  Gresham,  Knight,  some 
time  Lord  Maior  of  London  ;  and  Audrey,  his  first  wife,  by 
whom  he  had  issue.  Sir  John  Gresham  and  Sir  Thomas 
Gresham,  Knights,  William  and  Margaret;  which  Sir  Richard 
deceased  the  20th  day  of  February,  An.  Domini  1548,  and 
the  third  yeere  of  King  Edward  the  Sixth  his  Reigne,  and 
Audrey  deceased  the  28th  day  of  December,  An.  Dom.  1522." 

There  is  also  this  epitaph : — 

"Lo  here  the  Lady  Margaret  North, 

In  tombe  and  earth  do  lye  ; 
Of  husbands  four  the  faithfull  spouse, 

Whose  fame  shall  never  dye. 
One  Andrew  P'ranncis  was  the  first. 

The  second  Robert  hight, 
Sumamed  Chartsey,  Alderman ; 

Sir  David  Brooke,  a  knight, 
Was  third.     But  he  that  passed  all, 

And  was  in  number  fourth, 
And  for  his  virtue  made  a  Lord, 

Was  called  Sir  Edward  North. 
These  altogether  do  I  wish 

A  joyful  rising  day  ; 
That  of  the  Lord  and  of  his  Christ, 
All  honour  they  may  say. 

Obiit  2  die  Junii,  An.  Dom.  1575." 

In  Ironmonger  Lane,  inhabited  by  ironmongers 
temp.  Edward  I.,  is  Mercers'  Hall,  an  interesting 
building. 

The  Mercers,  though  not  formally  incorporated 
till  the  17th  of  Richard  II.  (1393),  are  traced  back 
by  Herbert  as  early  as   11 72.     Soon  afterwards 


Cheapside.] 


THE  MERCERS*  COMPANY. 


Z11 


they  arc  mentioned  as  patrons  of  one  of  the  great 
London  charities.  In  12 14,  Robert  Spencer,  a 
mercer,  was  mayor.  In  1296  the  mercers  joined 
the  company  of  merchant  adventurers  in  esta- 
blishing in  Edward  I.'s  reign,  a  woollen  manufac- 
ture in  England,  with  a  branch  at  Antwerp.  In 
Edward  II. 's  reign  they  are  mentioned  as  "the 
Fraternity  of  ]\fercers,"  and  in  1406  (Henry  I.)  they 
are  styled  in  a  charter,  "  Brothers  of  St.  Thomas 
h.  Becket." 

Mercers  were  at  first  general  dealers  in  all  small 
wares,  including  wigs,  haberdashery,  and  even  spices 
and  drugs.  They  attended  fairs  and  markets,  and 
even  sat  on  the  ground  to  sell  their  wares — in  fact, 
were  little  more  than  high-class  pedlers.  The  poet 
Gower  talks  of  "  the  depression  of  such  mercerie." 
In  late  times  the  silk  trade  formed  the  main  feature 
of  their  business  ;  the  gi-eater  use  of  silk  beginning 
about  1573. 

The  mercers'  first  station,  in  Henry  I  I.'s  reign, 
was  in  that  part  of  Cheap  on  the  north  side  where 
Mercers'  Hall  now  stands,  but  they  removed  soon 
afterwards  liigher  up  on  the  south  side.  The  part 
of  Cheapside  between  Bow  Church  and  Friday 
Street  became  known  as  the  Mercery.  Here,  in 
front  of  a  large  meadow  called  the  "  Crownsild," 
they  held  their  little  stalls  or  standings  from  Soper's 
Lane  and  the  Standard.  There  were  no  houses 
as  yet  in  this  part  of  Cheapside.  In  13  21  William 
Elsgup,  a  mercer,  founded  an  hospital  within  Crip- 
plegate,  for  100  poor  blind  men,  and  became  prior 
of  his  own  institution. 

In  135 1  (Edward  III.),  the  Mercers  grew  jealous 
of  the  Lombard  merchants,  and  on  Midsummer  Day 
three  mercers  were  sent  to  the  Tower  for  attack- 
ing two  Lombards  in  the  Old  Jewry.  The  mercers 
in  this  reign  sold  AvooUen  clothes,  but  not  silks. 
In  137 1,  John  Barnes,  mercer,  mayor,  gave  a  chest 
with  three  locks,  with  1,000  marks  therein,  to 
be  lent  to  younger  mercers,  upon  sufficient  pawn 
and  for  the  use  thereof.  The  grateful  recipients  were 
merely  to  say  "  De  Profundis,"  a  Pater  Noster,  and 
no  more.  This  bequest  seems  to  have  started 
among  the  Mercers,  the  kindly  practice  of  assisting 
the  young  and  struggling  members  of  this  Company. 

In  the  reign  of  Henry  VI.  the  mercers  had 
become  great  dealers  in  silks  and  velvets,  and  had 
resigned  to  the  haberdashers  the  sale  of  small  articles 
of  dress.  It  is  not  known  whether  the  mercers 
bought  their  silks  from  the  Lombards,  or  the  Lon- 
don silk-women,  or  whether  they  imported  them 
themselves,  since  many  of  the  members  of  the  Com- 
pany were  merchants. 

Twenty  years  after  the  murder  of  Becket,  the 
murdered  man's  sister,  who  had  married  Thomas 


Fitz  Theobald  de  Helles,  built  a  chapel  and  hospital 
of  Augustine  Friars  close  to  Ironmonger  Lane, 
Cheapside.  The  hospital  was  built  on  the  site  of 
the  house  where  Becket  was  born.  He  v/as  the  son 
of  Gilbert  Becket,  citizen,  mercer  and  portrcve  of 
London,  who  was  said  to  have  been  a  Crusader,  and 
to  have  married  a  fair  Saracen,  who  had  released 
him  from  prison,  and  who  followed  him  to  London, 
knowing  only  the  one  English  word  "  Gilbert."  The 
hospital,  which  was  called  "St.  Thomas  of  Aeon," 
from  Becket's  mother  having  been  born  at  Acre, 
the  ancient  Ptolemais,  was  given  to  the  Mercers' 
Fraternity  by  De  Hilles  and  his  wife,  and  Henry 
III.  gave  the  master  and  twelve  brothers  all  the 
land  between  St.  Olave's  and  Ironmonger  Lane, 
which  had  belonged  to  two  rich  Jews,  to  enlarge 
their  ground.  In  Henry  V.'s  reign  that  illustrious 
mercer  Whittington,  by  his  wealth  and  charity,  re- 
flected great  lustre  on  the  Mercers'  Company,  who 
at  his  death  were  left  trustees  of  the  college  and 
almshouses  founded  by  the  immortal  Richard  on 
College  Hill.  The  Company  still  preserve  the 
original  ordinance  of  this  charity  with  a  curious 
picture  of  Whittington' s  death,  and  of  the  first 
three  wardens,  Coventry,  Grove,  and  Carpenter. 

In  1 41 4,  Thomas  Falconer,  mercer  and  mayor, 
lent  Henry  V.,  towards  his  French  wars,  ten  marks 
upon  jewels. 

In  1 5 13,  Joan  Bradbury,  widow  of  Thomas  Brad- 
bury, late  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  left  the  Conduit 
Mead  (now  New  Bond  Street),  to  the  Mercers' 
Company  for  charitable  uses.  In  pursuance  of  the 
King's  grant  on  this  occasion,  the  Bishop  of  Norwich 
and  others  granted  the  Mercers'  Company  29  acres 
of  land  in  Marylebone,  120  acres  in  Westminsier, 
and  St.  Giles,  and  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields,  of 
the  annual  value  of  ;!^i3  6s.  8d.,  and  in  part  satisfac- 
tion of  the  said  ;^2o  a  year.  The  Company  still 
possess  eight  acres  and  a  half  of  this  old  gift, 
forming  the  north  side  of  Long  Acre  and  the  ad- 
jacent streets,  one  of  which  bears  the  name  of  the 
Company.  Mercer  Street  was  described  in  a  par- 
liamentary survey  in  1650  to  have  long  gardens 
reaching  down  to  Cock  and  Pye  Ditch,  and  the 
site  of  Seven  Dials.  In  1544  the  three  Greshams 
(at  the  time  the  twelve  Companies  Avere  appealed 
to)  lent  Henry  VIII.  upon  mortgaged  lands  ^1,673 
6s.  8d.  In  1561,  the  wardens  of  the  Mercers'  Com- 
pany were  summoned  before  the  Queen's  Council 
for  selling  their  velvets,  satins,  and  damasks  so  dear, 
as  English  coin  was  no  longer  base,  and  the  old 
excuse  for  the  former  high  charges  was  gone.  The 
Mercers  prudently  bowed  before  the  storm,  promised 
reform,  and  begged  her  Majesty's  Council  to  look 
after  the  Grocers.    At  this  time  the  chief  vendors  of 


378 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


rCheapside. 


Italian  silks  lived  inCheapside,  St.  Lawrence  Jewry, 
and  Old  Jewry. 

During  the  civil  wars  both  King  and  Parliament 
bore  heavily  on  the  Mercers.  In  1640  Charles  I. 
half  forced  from  them  a  loan  of  ^3,030,  and  in 
1642  the  Parliament  borrowed  ^^6,500,  and  arms 
from  the  Company's  armoury,  valued  at  ;^88.  They 
afterwards  gave  further  arms,  valued  at  j[^']  i  1 3s.  4d., 
and  advanced  as  a  second  loan  ;j^3,2oo.  The  result 
now  became  visible.     In  1698,  hoping  to  clear  off 


whom  the  insurance  was  effected,  should  be  at  the 
rate  of  ^30  for  every  ;^ioo  of  subscription.  It 
was  stipulated  that  subscribers  must  be  in  good 
and  perfect  health  at  the  time  of  subscription.  It 
was  decided  that  all  married  men  of  the  age  of 
thirty  years  or  under,  might  subscribe  any  sum  from 
^^50  tO;^i,ooo;  that  all  married  men,  not  exceeding 
sixty  years  of  age,  might  subscribe  any  sum  not  less 
than  ;j^5o,  and  not  exceeding  ;^3oo.  The  Com- 
pany's prospectus  further  stipulates  '  that  no  person 


THE    "swan    with    TWO    .NECKS,"    LAD    LA.NE    ( '"'/"■i'''' 374). 


their  debts,  the  Mercers'  Company  engaged  in  a 
ruinous  insurance  scheme,  suggested  by  Dr.  Asshe- 
ton,  a  Kentish  rector.  It  was  proposed  to  grant 
annuities  of  ;!^3o  per  cent,  to  clergymen's  widows 
according  to  certain  sums  paid  by  their  husbands. 

"  Pledging  the  rents  of  their  large  landed  estates 
as  security  for  the  fulfilment  of  their  contracts  with 
usurers,  the  Mercers  entered  on  business  as  life 
assurance  agents.  Limiting  the  entire  amount  of 
subscription  to  ;^i  00,000,  they  decided  that  no 
person  over  sixty  years  of  age  should  become  a 
subscriber ;  that  no  subscriber  should  subscribe 
less  than;^5o — i.e.,  should  purchase  a  smaller  con- 
tingent annuity  than  one  of  £,1^  ;  that  the  annuity 
::o  every  subscriber's  widow,   or  other  person  for 


that  goes  to  sea,  nor  soldier  that  goes  to  the  wars, 
shall  be  admitted  to  subscribe  to  have  the  benefit 
of  this  proposal,  in  regard  of  the  casualties  and 
accidents  that  they  are  more  particularly  liable  to.' 
Moreover,  it  was  provided  that  '  in  case  it  should 
happen  that  any  man  who  had  subscribed  should 
voluntarily  make  away  with  himself,  or  by  any  act 
of  his  occasion  his  own  death,  either  by  duelling, 
or  committing  any  crime  whereby  he  should  be 
sentenced  to  be  put  to  death  by  justice  ;  in  any  or 
either  of  these  cases  his  widow  should  receive  no 
annuity,  but  upon  delivering  up  the  Company's 
bond,  should  have  the  subscription  money  paid 
to  her.' 

*'  The  Mercers'  operations  soon  gave  rise  to  more 


Cheapside.  ] 


THE  MERCERS'  COMPANY  IN  TROUBLE. 


37') 


business-like  companies,  specially  created  to  secure 
the  public  against  some  of  the  calamitous  con- 
sequences of  death.  In  1706,  the  Amicable  Life 
Assurance  Office — usually,  though,  as  the  reader 
has  seen,  incorrectly,  termed  the  First  Life  Insur- 


were  fixed  too  high,  and  the  Company  had  to  sink 
to  18  per  cent.,  and  even  this  proved  an  insufficient 
reduction.  In  1 745  they  were  compelled  to  stop, 
and,  after  several  ineffectual  struggles,  to  petition 
Parliament. 


CITY   OK   LONDON   SCHOOL, 


ance  Office — was  established  in  imitation  of  the 
Mercers'  Office.  Two  years  later,  the  Second 
Society  of  Assurance,  for  the  support  of  widows 
and  orphans,  was  opened  in  Dublin,  which,  like  the 
Amicable,  introduced  numerous  improvements  upon 
Dr.  Asshe ton's  scheme,  and  was  a  Joint-Stock  Life 
Assurance  Society,  identical  in  its  principles  with, 
and  similar  in  most  of  its  details  to,  the  modern 
insurance  companies,  of  which  there  were  as  many 
as  one  hundred  and  sixty  in  the  year  1859." 

Large  sums  were  subscribed,  but  the  annuities 


The  petition  showed  that  the  Mercers  were 
indebted  more  than  ^^i  00,000.  The  annuities 
then  out  amounted  to  ^£^,620  per  annum,  and  the 
subscriptions  for  future  amounts  reached  ;^i  0,000 
a  year  ;  while  to  answer  these  claims  their  present 
income  only  amounted  to  ;;^4,ioo  per  annum. " 
The  Company  was  therefore  empowered  by  Act  of 
Parliament,  4  George  III.,  to  issue  new  bonds  and 
pay  them  off  by  a  lottery,  drawn  in  their  own  hall. 
This  plan  had  the  effect  of  completely  retrieving 
their  aftairs,  and  restoring  them  again  to  prosperity. 


38o 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Chcapslde. 


Strype  speaks  of  the  mercers'  shops  situated  on 
the  south  side  of  Cheapsidc  as  having  been  turned 
from  mere  sheds  into  handsome  buildings  four  or 
&ve  storeys  high. 

Mercers'  Hall  and  Chapel  have  a  history  of 
their  own.  On  the  rough  suppression  of  monastic 
institutions,  Henry  VIII.,  gorged  with  plunder, 
granted  to  the  Mercers'  Company  for  ^gGg  17s.  6d. 
the  church  of  the  college  of  St.  Thomas  Aeon, 
the  parsonage  of  St.  Mary  Colechurch,  and  sundry 
premises  in  the  parishes  of  St.  Paul,  Old  Jewry, 
St.  Stephen,  Walbrook,  St  Martin,  Ironmonger 
Lane,  and  St.  Stephen,  Coleman  Street.  Imme- 
diately behind  the  great  doors  of  the  hospital  and 
Mercers'  Hall  stood  the  hospital  church  of  St. 
Thomas,  and  at  the  back  were  court-yards,  cloisters, 
and  gardens  in  a  great  wide  enclosure  east  and 
Avest  of  Ironmonger  Lane  and  the  Old  Jewry. 

St  Thomas's  Church  was  a  large  structure,  pro- 
bably rich  in  monuments,  though  many  of  the 
illustrious  mercers  were  buried  in  Bow  Church,  St. 
Pancras,  Soper  Lane,  St.  Antholin's,  Watling  Street, 
and  St.  Benet  Sherehog.  The  church  was  bought 
chiefly  by  Sir  Richard  Gresham's  influence,  and  Stow 
tells  us  "  it  is  now  called  Mercers'  Chappell,  and 
therein  is  kept  a  free  grammar  school  as  of  old  time 
had  been  accustomed."  The  original  Mercers' 
Chapel  was  a  chapel  toward  the  street  in  front  of 
the  "  great  old  chapel  of  St.  Thomas,"  and  over  it 
was  Mercers'  Hall.  Aggas's  plan  of  London  (circa 
1560)  shows  it  was  a  little  above  the  Great  Conduit 
of  Cheapside.  The  small  chapel  was  built  by  Sir 
John  Allen,  mercer  and  mayor  (152 1),  and  he  was 
buried  there  ;  but  the  Mercers  removed  this  tomb 
into  the  hospital  church,  and  divided  the  chapel 
into  shops.  Grey,  the  founder  of  the  hospital,  was 
apprenticed  to  a  bookseller  who  occupied  one  of 
these  shops,  and  after  the  Fire  of  London  he  him- 
self carried  on  the  same  trade  in  a  shop  which  was 
built  on  the  same  site.  Before  the  suppression, 
the  Mercers  only  occupied  a  shop  of  the  present 
front,  the  modern  Mercers'  Chapel  standing,  says 
Herbert,  exactly  on  the  site  of  part  of  the  hospital 
church. 

The  old  hospital  gate,  which  forms  the  present 
hospital  entrance,  had  an  image  of  St  Thomas  a 
Becket,  but  this  was  pulled  down  by  Elizabethan 
fanatics.  The  interior  of  the  chapel  remains  un- 
altered. There  is  a  large  ambulatory  before  it  sup- 
ported by  columns,  and  a  stone  staircase  leads  to 
the  hall  and  court-rooms.  The  ambulatory  con- 
tains the  recumbent  figure  of  Richard  Fishborne, 
Mercer^  dressed  in  a  fur  gown  and  ruff.  He  was 
a  great  benefactor  to  the  Company,  and  died  in 
1623  (James  I.). 


]\Iany  eminent  citizens  were  buried  in  St. 
Thomas's,  though  most  of  the  monuments  had 
been  defaced  even  in  Stow's  time.  Among  them 
were  ten  Mercer  mayors  and  sherifts,  ten  grocers 
(probably  from  Bucklersbury,  their  special  locality). 
Sir  Edward  Shaw,  goldsmith  to  Richard  III., 
two  Earls  of  Ormond,  and  Stephen  Cavendish, 
draper  and  mayor  (1362),  whose  descendants  were 
ancestors  of  the  ducal  families  of  Cavendish  and 
Devonshire. 

WiUiam  Downer,  of  London,  gent.,  by  his  last 
will,  dated  26th  June,  1484,  gave  orders  for  his 
body  to  be  buried  within  the  church  of  St.  Thomas 
Aeon's,  of  London,  in  these  terms  : — "  So  that  every 
year,  yearly  for  evermore,  in  their  foresaid  churche, 
at  such  time  of  the  year  as  it  shal  happen  me  to 
dy,  observe  and  keep  an  ol^yfc,  or  an  anniversary 
for  my  sowl,  the  sowles  of  my  seyd  wyfe,  the  sowles 
of  my  fader  and  moder,  and  al  Christian  sowles, 
Avith  placebo  and  dirige  on  the  even,  and  mass  of 
requiem  on  the  morrow  following  solemnly  by  note 
for  evermore." 

Previous  to  the  suppression,  Henry  VIII.  had 
permitted  the  Hospital  of  St.  Thomas  of  Aeon, 
which  wanted  room,  to  throw  a  gallery  across  Old 
Jewry  into  a  garden  which  the  master  had  pur- 
chased, adjoining  the  Grocers'  Hall,  and  in  which 
Sir  Robert  Clayton  afterwards  built  a  house,  of 
which  we  shall  have  to  speak  in  its  place.  The 
gallery  was  to  have  two  windows,  and  in  the 
winter  a  light  was  ordered  to  be  burned  there  for 
the  comfort  of  passers-by.  In  1536,  Henry  VIII. 
and  his  queen,  Jane  Seymour,  stood  in  the  Mercers' 
Hall,  then  newly  built,  and  saw  the  ''  marching 
watch  of  the  City"  most  bravely  set  out  by  its 
founder.  Sir  John  Allen,  mercer  and  mayor,  and 
one  of  the  Privy  Council. 

In  the  reign  of  James  I.,  Mercers'  Chapel  became 
a  fashionable  place  of  resort ;  gallants  and  ladies 
crowded  there  to  hear  the  sermons  of  the  learned 
Italian  Archbishop  of  Spalatro,  in  Dalmatia,  one  of 
the  few  prize  converts  to  Protestantism.  In  161 7 
we  look  in  and  find  among  his  auditors  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  the  Lord  Chancellor,  the 
Earls  of  Arundel  and  Pembroke,  and  Lords  Zouch 
and  Compton.  The  chapel  continued  for  many 
years  to  be  used  for  Italian  sermons  preached  to 
English  merchants  who  had  resided  abroad,  and 
who  partly  defrayed  the  expense.  The  Mercers' 
School  was  first  held  in  the  hospital  and  then  re- 
moved to  the  mercery. 

The  present  chapel  front  in  Cheapside  is  the 
central  part  alone  of  the  front  built  after  the  Great 
Fire.  Correspondent  houses,  five  storeys  high, 
formerly  gave  breadth  and  effect  to  the  whole  mass. 


Chcapside.] 


THE   MERCERS'   SCHOOL. 


381 


Old  views  represent  shops  on  each  side  with  un- 
sashed  windows.  The  first  floors  have  stone 
balconies,  and  over  the  central  window  of  each 
room  is  the  bust  of  a  crowned  virgin.  It  has  a 
large  doorcase,  enriched  with  two  genii  above,  in 
the  act  of  mantling  the  Virgin's  head,  the  Company's 
cognomen  displayed  upon  the  keystone  of  the  arch. 
Above  is  a  cornice,  with  brackets,  sustaining  a  small 
gallery,  from  which,  on  each  side,  arise  Doric 
pilasters,  supporting  an  entablature  of  the  same 
order  j  between  the  intercolumns  and  the  central 
window  are  the  figures  of  Faith  and  Hope,  in 
niches,  between  whom,  in  a  third  niche  of  the  en- 
tablature, is  Charity,  sitting  with  her  three  children. 
The  upper  storey  has  circular  windows  and  other 
enrichments. 

The  entrance  most  used  is  in  Ironmonger  Lane, 
where  is  a  small  court,  with  offices,  apparently  the 
site  of  the  ancient  cloister,  and  which  leads  to  the 
principal  building.  The  hall  itself  is  elevated  as 
anciently,  and  supported  by  Doric  columns,  the 
space  below  being  open  one  side  and  forming  an 
extensive  piazza,  at  the  extremity  whereof  is  the 
chapel,  which  is  neatly  planned,  wainscoted,  and 
paved  with  black  and  white  marble.  A  high  flight 
of  stairs  leads  from  the  piazza  to  the  hall,  which  is 
a  very  lofty  apartment,  handsomely  wainscoted 
and  ornamented  with  Doric  pilasters,  and  various 
carvings  in  compartments. 

In  the  hall,  besides  the  transaction  of  the  Com- 
pany's business,  the  Gresham  committees  are  held, 
which  consist  of  four  aldermen,  including  the  Lord 
Mayor  pro  tempore,  and  eight  of  the  City  corpora- 
tion, with  whom  are  associated  a  select  number 
of  the  assistants  of  the  Mercers.  In  this  hall  also 
the  British  Fishery  Society,  and  other  corporate 
bodies,  were  formerly  accustomed  to  hold  their 
meetings. 

The  chief  portraits  in  the  hall  are  those  of  Sir 
Thomas  Gresham  (original),  a  fanciful  portrait  of 
Sir  Richard  Whittington,  a  likeness  of  Count 
Tekeli  (the  hero  of  the  old  opera).  Count  Paning- 
ton ;  Dean  Colet  (the  illustrious  friend  of  Erasmus, 
and  the  founder  of  St.  Paul's  school) ;  Thomas 
Papillon,  Master  of  the  Company  in  1698,  who 
left  ;!£"i,ooo  to  the  Company,  to  relieve  any  of 
his  family  that  ever  came  to  want ;  and  Rowland 
Wynne,  Master  of  the  Company  in  1675.  Wynne 
gave  ;i^4oo  towards  the  repairing  of  the  hall  after 
the  Great  Fire. 

In  Strype's  time  (1720),  the  Mercers'  Company 
gave  away  jQz^'^oo  a  year  in  charity.  In  1745  the 
Company's  money  legacies  amounted  to  ^21,699 
5s.  9d.,  out  of  which  the  Company  paid  annually 
^573  17s.  4d.     In    1832,  the  lapsed  legacies  of 


the  Company  became  the  subject  of  a  Chancery 
suit ;  the  result  was  that  money  is  now  lent  to 
liverymen  or  freemen  of  the  Company  requiring 
assistance  in  sums  of  ;^ioo,  and  not  exceeding 
;^5oo,  for  a  term,  without  interest,  but  only  upon 
approved  security. 

The  present  Mercers'  School,  which  is  but  lately 
finished,  is  a  very  elegant  stone  structure,  adjoining 
St.  Michael's  Church,  College  Hill,  on  the  site  of 
Whittington's  Almshouses,  which  had  been  removed 
to  Highgate  to  make  room  for  it. 

The  school  scholarship  is  in  the  gift  of  the 
Mercers'  Company,  and  it  must  not  be  forgotten 
that  Caxton,  the  first  great  English  printer,  was  a 
member  of  this  livery. 

Subsequently  to  the  Great  Fire,  says  Herbert, 
there  was  some  discussion  with  Parliament  on  re- 
building the  Mercers'  School  on  the  former  site  of 
St.  Mary  Colechurch.  That  site,  however,  was 
ultimately  rejected,  and  by  the  Rebuilding  Act,  22 
Charles  II.  (1670),  it  was  expressly  provided  that 
there  should  be  a  plot  of  ground,  on  the  western 
side  of  the  Old  Jewry,  "  set  apart  for  the  Mercers' 
School."  Persons  who  remember  the  building, 
says  Herbert,  describe  it  whilst  here  as  an  old- 
fashioned  house  for  the  masters'  residence,  with 
projecting  upper  storeys,  a  low,  spacious  building 
by  the  side  of  it  for  the  schoolroom,  and  an  area 
behind  it  for  a  playground,  the  whole  being  situate 
on  the  west  side  of  the  Old  Jewry,  about  forty  yards 
from  Cheapside. 

The  great  value  of  ground  on  the  above  spot,  and 
a  desire  to  widen,  as  at  present,  the  entrance  to  the 
Old  Jewry,  occasioned  the  temporary  removal  of 
the  Mercers'  School,  in  1787,  to  No.  13,  Budge 
Row,  about  thirty  yards  from  Dowgate  Hill  (a 
house  of  the  Company's,  which  was  afterwards 
burnt  down).  In  1804  it  was  again  temporarily 
removed  to  No.  20,  Red  Lion  Court,  Watling 
Street;  and  from  thence,  in  1808,  to  its  present 
situation  on  College  Hill.  The  latter  premises 
were  hired  by  the  Company,  at  the  rent  of  ;/^i2o, 
and  the  average  expense  of  the  school  was 
;^677  IS.  id.  The  salary  of  the  master  is  ;^2oo, 
and  ^50  gratuity,  with  a  house  to  live  in,  rent  and 
taxes  free.  Writing,  arithmetic,  and  merchant's  ac- 
counts were  added  to  the  Greek  and  Latin  classics, 
in  1804;  and  a  writing-master  was  engaged,  who 
has  a  salary  of  ;^i20,  and  a  gratuity  of  ^^20,  but 
no  house.  There  are  two  exhibitions  belonging  to 
the  school. 

With  the  Mercers'  Hospital,  in  the  Middle  Ages, 
many  curious  old  City  customs  were  connected. 
The  customary  devotions^of  the  new  Lord  Mayor,  at 
St.  Thomas  of  Aeon  Church,  in  the  Catholic  times. 


382 


OLD   AND    NEW   LONDON. 


[Cheapside. 


identify  themselves  in  point  of  locality  with  the 
Mercers'  Company,  and  are  to  be  ranked  arnongst 
that  Company's  observances.  Strype  has  described 
these,  from  an  ancient  MS.  he  met  with  on  the 
subject.  The  new  Lord  Mayor,  it  states,  ^^  after 
dinficr"  on  his  inauguration  day  (the  ceremony 
would  have  suited  much  better  before  dinner  in 
modern  days),  "was  wont  to  go  from  his  house  to 
the  Church  of  St.  Thomas  of  Aeon,  those  of  his 
Hvery  going  before  him  ;  and  the  aldermen  in  like 
manner  being  there  met  together,  they  came  to  the 
Church  of  St.  Paul,  whither,  when  they  were  come, 
namely,  in  the  middle  place  between  the  body  of 
the  church,  between  two  little  doors,  they  were 
wont  to  pray  for  the  soul  of  the  Bishop  of  London. 
William  Norman,  who  was  a  great  benefactor  to 
the  City,  in  obtaining  the  confirmation  of  their 
liberties  from  William  the  Conqueror,  a  priest 
saying  the  office  De  Profundis  (called  a  dirge) ; 
and  from  thence  they  passed  to  the  churchyard, 
where  Thomas  ^  Becket's  parents  were  buried,  and 
there,  near  their  tomb,  they  said  also,  for  all  the 
faithful  deceased,  De  Profundis  again.  The  City 
procession  thence  returned  through  Cheapside 
Market,  sometimes  with  wax  candles  burning  (if  it 
was  late),  to  the  said  Church  Sanctse  Thomte,  and 
there  the  mayor  and  aldermen  offered  single  pence, 
which  being  done,  every  one  went  to  his  home." 

On  all  saints'  days,  and  various  other  festivals, 
the  mayor  with  his  family  attended  at  this  same 
Church  of  St.  Thomas,  and  the  aldermen  also, 
and  those  that  were  "  of  the  livery  of  the  mayor, 
with  the  honest  men  of  the  mysteries,"  in  their 
several  habits,  or  suits,  from  which  they  went  to 
St.  Paul's  to  hear  vespers.  On  the  Feast  of 
Innocents  they  heard  vespers  at  St.  Thomas's,  and 
on  the  morrow  mass  and  vespers. 

The  Mercers'  election  cup,  says  Timbs,  of  early 
sixteenth  century  work,  was  silver-gilt,  decorated 
with  fret-work  and  female  busts  ;  the  feet,  flasks  ; 
and  on  the  cover  is  the  popular  legend  of  an 
unicorn  yielding  its  horn  to  a  maiden.  The  whole 
is  enamelled  with  coats  of  arms,  and  these  lines — 

"  To  elect  the  Master  of  the  Mercerie  hither  am  I  sent, 
And  by  Sir  Thomas  Leigh  for  the  same  intent." 

The  Company  also  possess  a  silver-gilt  wagon 
and  tun,  covered  with  arabesques  and  enamels,  of 
sixteenth  century  work.  The  hall  was  originally 
decorated  with  carvings ;  the  main  stem  of  deal, 
the  fruit,  flowers,  &c.,  of  lime,  pear,  and  beech. 
These  becoming  worm-eaten,  were  long  since  re- 
moved from  the  panelling  and  put  aside  ;  but  they 
have  been  restored  by  Mr.  Henry  Crace,  who  thus 
describes  the  process  : — 


"  The  carving  is  of  the  same  colour  as  when 
taken  down.  I  merely  washed  it,  and  with  a 
gimlet  bored  a  number  of  holes  in  the  back,  and 
into  every  projecting  piece  of  fruit  and  leaves  on 
the  face,  and  placing  the  whole  in  a  long  trough, 
fifteen  inches  deep,  I  covered  it  with  a  solution 
prepared  in  the  following  manner  : — I  took  sixteen 
gallons  of  linseed  oil,  with  2  lbs.  of  litharge,  finely 
ground,  i  lb.  of  camphor,  and  2  lbs.  of  red  lead, 
which  I  boiled  for  six  hours,  keeping  it  stirred, 
that  every  ingredient  might  be  perfectly  incor- 
porated. I  then  dissolved  6  lbs.  of  bees'-wax  in  a 
gallon  of  spirits  of  turpentine,  and  mixed  the  whole, 
while  warm,  thoroughly  together. 

"  In  this  solution  the  carving  remained  for  twenty- 
four  hours.  When  taken  out,  I  kept  the  face 
downwards,  that  the  oil  might  soak  down  to  the 
face  of  the  carving ;  and  on  cutting  some  of  the 
wood  nearly  nine  inches  deep,  I  found  it  had 
soaked  through,  for  not  any  of  the  dust  was  blown 
out,  as  I  considered  it  a  valuable  medium  to  form 
a  substance  for  the  future  support  of  the  wood. 
This  has  been  accomplished,  and,  as  the  dust 
became  saturated  with  the  oil,  it  increased  in  bulk, 
and  rendered  the  carving  perfectly  solid." 

The  Company  is  now  governed  by  a  master,  three 
wardens,  and  a  court  of  thirty-one  or  more  assist- 
ants. The  livery  fine  is  53s.  4d.  The  Mercers' 
Company,  though  not  by  any  means  the  most 
ancient  of  the  leading  City  companies,  takes  pre- 
cedence of  all.  Such  anomalous  institutions  are  the 
City  companies,  that,  curious  to  relate,  the  present 
body  hardly  includes  one  mercer  among  them.  In 
Henry  VIII.'s  reign  the  Company  (freemen,  house- 
holders, and  livery)  amounted  to  fifty-three  persons; 
in  1 701  it  had  almost  quadrupled.  Strype  (1754) 
only  enumerates  fifty-two  mayors  who  had  been 
mercers,  from  1214  to  1701;  this  is  below  the 
mark.  Halkins  over-estimates  the  mercer  mayors 
as  ninety-eight  up  to  1708.  Few  monarchs  have 
been  mercers,  yet  Richard  II.  was  a  free  brother, 
and  Queen  Elizabeth  a  free  sister. 

Half  our  modern  nobility  have  sprung  from  the 
trades  they  now  despise.  Many  of  the  great 
mercers  became  the  founders  of  noble  houses  ;  for 
instance — Sir  John  Coventry  (1425),  ancestor  of  the 
present  Earl  of  Coventry ;  Sir  Geoffrey  Bullen, 
grandfather  of  Queen  Elizabeth ;  Sir  William  HoUis, 
ancestor  of  the  Earls  of  Clare.  From  Sir  Richard 
Dormer  (1542)  sprang  the  Lords  Dormer;  from 
Sir  Thomas  Baldry  (1523)  the  Lords  Kensington 
(Rich);  from  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  (1527)  the  Dukes 
of  Somerset ;  from  Sir  Baptist  Hicks,  the  great 
mercer  of  James  I.,  who  built  Hicks'  Hall,  on 
Clerkenwell  Green,  sprang  the  Viscounts  Camden  ; 


Guildhall.] 


LONDON'S   HOTEL  DE  VILLE. 


3S3 


from  Sir  Rowland  Hill,  the  Lords  Hill ;  from  James 
Butler  (Henry  II.)  the  Earls  of  Ormond;  from  Sir 
Geoffrey  Fielding,  Privy  Councillor  to  Henry  II. 
and  Richard  L,  the  Earls  of  Denbigh. 

The  costume  of  the  Mercers  became  fixed  about 
the  reign  of  Charles  I.  The  master  and  wardens 
led  the  civic  processions,  "  faced  in  furs,"  with 
the  lords ;  the  livery  followed  in  gowns  faced  with 
satins,  the  livery  of  all  other  Companies  wearing 
facings  of  fringe. 

"  In  Ironmonger  Lane,"  says  Stow,  giving  us  a 


glimpse  of  old  London,  "is  the  small  parish  church 

of  St.  Martin,  called  Pomary,  upon  what  occasion 

certainly  I  know  not ;  but  it  is  supposed  to  be  of 

apples  growing  where  now  houses  are  lately  builded, 

for  myself  have  seen  the  large  void  places  there." 

The  church  was  repaired  in  the  year  1629.     Mr. 

Stodder  left  40s.  for  a  sermon  to  be  preached  on 

St.  James's  Day  by  an  unbeneficed   minister,  in 

i  commemoration  of  the  deliverance  in  the  year  1588 

I  (Armada) ;  and  50s.  more  to  the  use  of  the  poor  of 

I  the  same  parish,  to  be  paid  by  the  Ironmongers. 


CHAPTER     XXXIII. 
GUILDHALL. 

The  Original  Guildhall — A  fearful  Civic  Spectacle — The  Value  of  Land  increased  by  the  Great  Fire — Guildhall  as  it  was  and  is — The  Statues  over 
the  South  Porch — Dance's  Disfigurements — The  Renovation  in  1864 — The  Crypt — Gog  and  Magog — Shopkeepers  in  Guildhall — The 
Cenotaphs  in  Guildhall — The  Court  of  Aldermen —The  City  Courts — The  Chamberlain's  Office — Pictures  in  the  Guildhall — Sir  Robert  Porter 
— The  Common  Council  Room — Pictures  and  Statues— Guildhall  Chapel  -The  New  Library  and  Museum — Some  Rare  Books— Historical 
Events  in  Guildhall — Chaucer  in  Trouble— Uuckingham  at  Guildhall— Anne  Askew's  Trial  and  Death— Surrey — Throckmorton — Garnet — 
A  Grand  Banquet. 


The  Guildhall — the  mean-looking  Hotel  de  Ville 
of  London — was  originally  (says  Stow)  situated 
more  to  the  east  side  of  Aldermanbury,  to  which  it 
gave  name.  Richard  de  Reynere,  a  sheriff  in  the 
reign  of  Richard  1.  (1189),  gave  to  the  church  of 
St.  Mary,  at  Osney,  near  Oxford,  certain  ground 
rents  in  Aldermanbury,  as  appears  by  an  entry 
in  the  Register  of  the  Court  of  Hustings  of  the 
Guildhall.  In  Stow's  time  the  Aldermanbury  hall 
had  been  turned  into  a  carpenter's  yard. 

The  present  Guildhall  (which  the  meanest 
Flemish  city  would  despise)  was  "builded  new," 
whatever  that  might  imply,  according  to  our 
venerable  guide,  in  141 1  (12th  of  Henry  IV.),  by 
Thomas  Knoles,  the  mayor,  and  his  brethren  the 
aldermen,  and  "  from  a  little  cottage  it  grew  into  a 
great  house."  The  expenses  were  defrayed  by 
benevolences  from  the  City  Companies,  and  ten 
years'  fees,  fines,  and  amercements.  Henry  V. 
granted  the  City  free  passages  for  four  boats  and 
four  carts,  to  bring  lime,  ragstone,  and  freestone 
for  the  works.  In  the  first  year  of  Henry  VI., 
when  the  citizens  were  every  day  growing  richer 
and  more  powerful,  the  illustrious  Whittington's 
executors  gave  ;^35  to  pave  the  Great  Hall  with 
Purbeck  stone.  They  also  blazoned  some  of  the 
windows  of  the  hall,  and  the  Mayor's  Court,  with 
Whittington's  escutcheons. 

A  few  years  afterwards  one  of  the  porches,  the 
Mayor's  Chamber,  and  the  Council  Chamber  were 
built.    In  1 501  (Henry  VII.),  Sir  John  Shaw,  mayor, 


knighted  on  Bosworth  Field,  built  the  kitchens,  since 
which  time  the  City  feasts,  before  that  held  at  J\Ter- 
chant  Taylors'  and  Grocers'  Hall,  were  annually  held 
here.  In  1505,  Sir  Nicholas  Alwin,  mayor  in 
1499,  'sft  ;^73  6s.  8d.  to  purchase  tapestry  for 
"gaudy"  days  at  the  Guildhall.  In  1614  a  new 
Council  Chamber,  with  a  second  room  over  it,  was 
erected,  at  an  outlay  of  ;^r,74o. 

In  the  Great  Fire,  when  all  the  roofs  and  out- 
buildings were  destroyed,  an  eye-witness  describes 
Guildhall  itself  still  standing  firm,  probably  because 
it  was  framed  with  solid  oak. 

Mr.  Vincent,  a  minister,  in  his  "  God's  Terrible 
Voice  in  the  City,"  printed  in  the  year  1667,  says  : 
"  And  amongst  other  things  that  night,  the  sight 
of  Guildhall  was  a  fearful  spectacle,  which  stood 
the  whole  body  of  it  together  in  view  for  several 
hours  together,  after  the  fire  had  taken  it,  without 
flames  (I  suppose  because  the  timber  was  such  solid 
oake),  like  a  bright  shining  coal,  as  if  it  had  been 
a  palace  of  gold,  or  a  great  building  of  burnished 
brass." 

Pepys  has  some  curious  notes  about  the  new 
Guildhall. 

"Sir  Richard  Ford,"  he  says,  "tells  me,  speaking  of 
the  new  street " — the  present  King  Street — "  that  is 
to  be  made  from  Guildhall  down  to  Cheapside,  that 
the  ground  is  already,  most  of  it,  bought ;  and  tells 
me  of  one  particular,  of  a  man  that  hath  a  piece  of 
ground  lying  in  the  very  middle  of  the  street  that 
must  be ;  which,  when  the  street  is  cut  out  of  it, 


384 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Guildhall. 


there  will  remain  ground  enough  of  each  side  to 
build  a  house  to  front  the  street.  He  demanded 
seven  hundred  pounds  for  the  ground,  and  to  be 
excused  paying  anything  for  the  melioration  of  the 
rest  of  his  ground  that  he  was  to  keep.  The  Court 
consented  to  give  him  jQtoo,  only  not  to  abate  him 
the  consideration,  which  the  man  denied ;  but  told 
them,  and  so  they  agreed,  that  he  would  excuse  the 
City  the  jQloo,  that  he  might  have  the  benefit  of 
the  melioration  without  paying  anything  for  it.    So 


1829,  were  divided  into  eight  portions  by  projecting 
clusters  of  columns.  Above  the  dados  were  two 
windows  of  the  meanest  and  most  debased  Gothic. 
Several  of  the  large  windows  were  blocked  up 
with  tasteless  monuments.  The  blockings  of  the 
friezes  were  sculptured ;  large  guideron  sliields  were 
blazoned  with  the  arms  of  the  principal  City  com- 
panies. The  old  mediaeval  open  timber-work  roof 
had  been  swallowed  up  by  the  Great  Fire,  and  in  lieu 
of  it  there  was  a  poor  attic  storey,  and  a  flat  panelled 


mercers'  chapel,  as  rebuilt  after  tiif.  fire.     {From  an  Old  Print.)     (See  page  381.) 


much  some  will  get  by  having  the  City  burned. 
Ground,  by  this  means,  that  was  not  fourpence  a 
foot  afore,  will  now,  when  houses  are  built,  be  worth 
fifteen  shillings  a  foot." 

In  the  "  Calendar  of  State  Papers  "  (Charles  II., 
February,  1667),  we  find  notice  that  "  the  Committee 
of  the  Common  Council  of  London  for  making  the 
new  street  called  King  Street,  between  Guildhall 
and  Cheapside,  will  sit  twice  a  week  at  Guildhall, 
to  treat  with  persons  concerned ;  enquiry  to  be 
made  by  jury,  according  to  the  Act  for  Rebuilding 
the  City,  of  the  value  of  land  of  such  persons  as 
refuse  to  appear." 

The  Great  Hall  is  153  feet  long,  50  feet  broad, 
and  about  55  feet  high.      The  interior   sides,  in 


ceiling,  by  some  attributed  to  Wren.  At  each  end 
of  the  hall  was  a  large  pointed  window ;  the  east 
one  blazoned  with  the  royal  arms,  and  the  stars 
and  jewels  of  the  English  orders  of  knighthood ; 
the  west  with  the  City  arms  and  supporters.  At 
the  east  end  of  the  hall  (the  ancient  dais)  was  a 
raised  enclosed  platform,  for  holding  the  Court  of 
Hustings  and  taking  the  poll  at  elections,  and  other 
purposes.  The  panelled  wainscoting  (in  the  old 
churchwarden  taste)  was  separated  into  compart- 
ments by  fluted  Corinthian  pilasters.  Over  these 
was  a  range  of  ancient  canopied  niches  in  carved 
stone,  vulgarly  imitated  by  modern  work  on  the 
west  side.  Our  old  friends  Gog  and  Magog,  before 
Dance's  impi-ovar.ents,  stood  on  brackets  adjoining 


Guildhall.] 


THE  GUILDHALL  STATUES. 


385 


a  balcony  over  the  entrance  to  the  interior  courts, 
and  were  removed  to  brackets  on  each  side  the 
great  west  window. 

Stow  describes  the  statues  over  the  great  south 
porch  of  King  Henry  VL's  time  as  bearing  the 
following  emblems  :  the  tables  of  the  Command- 
ments, a  whip,  a  sword,  and  a  pot.  By  their  ancient 
habits  and  the  coronets  on  their  heads,  he  presumed 
them  to  be  the  statues  of  benefactors  of  London. 
The  statue  of  our  Saviour  had  disappeared,  but  the 


Stow,  in  relation  to  the  Guildhall  statues,  and 
to  the  general  demolition  of  "images  "  that  occurred 
in  his  time,  states,  "these  verses  following"  were 
made  about  1560,  by  William  Elderton,  an  attorney 
in  the  Sheriff's  Court  at  Guildhall : — 

"  Though  most  the  Images  be  pulled  do\\Tie, 
And  none  be  thought  remain  in  Towne, 
I  am  sure  there  be  in  London  yet 
Seven  images,  such,  and  in  such  a  place 
As  few  or  none  I  think  will  hit, 


THE    CRYPT   OF   GUILDHALL    {sre  page   3S6). 


two  bearded  figures  remaining,  he  conjectured, 
were  good  Bishop  William  and  the  Conqueror  him- 
self Four  lesser  figures,  two  on  each  side  the 
porch,  seemed  to  be  noble  and  pious  ladies,  one 
of  them  probably  the  Empress  Maud,  another 
the  good  Queen  Philippa,  who  once  interceded  for 
the  City.  These  figures  were  taken  down  during 
Dance's  injudicious  alterations  in  1789.  They  lay 
neglected  in  a  cellar  until  Alderman  Boydell  ob- 
tained leave  of  the  Corporation  to  give  them  to 
Banks,  the  sculptor,  who  had  taste  enough  to  appre- 
ciate the  simple  earnestness  of  the  Gothic  work.  At 
his  death  they  were  given  again  to  the  City.  These 
figures  were  removed  from  the  old  screen  in  1865, 
and  were  not  replaced  in  the  new  one, 
33 


Yet  every  day  they  show  their  face  ; 

And  thousands  see  them  every  yeare, 

But  few,  I  thinke,  can  tell  me  where  ; 

Where  Jesus  Christ  aloft  doth  stand, 

Law  and  Learning  on  either  hand, 

Discipline  in  the  Devil's  necke, 

And  hard  by  her  are  three  direct  ; 

There  "Justice,  Fortitude,  and  Temperance  stand  ; 

Where  find  ye  the  like  in  all  this  Land  ?  " 

The  true  renovation  of  this  great  City  hall  com- 
menced in  the  year  1864,  when  Mr.  Horace  Jones, 
the  architect  to  the  City  of  London,  was  entrusted 
with  the  erection  of  an  open  oak  roof,  with  a 
central  louvre  and  tapering  metal  spire.  The  new 
roof  is  as  nearly  as  possible  framed  to  resemble  the 
roof  destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire.     Many  southern 


386 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Guildhall. 


windows  have  been  re-opened,  and  layer  after  layer 
of  plaster  and  cement  scraped  from  the  internal 
architectural  ornamentation.  The  southern  win- 
dows have  been  fitted  with  stained  glass,  de- 
signed by  Mr.  F.  Halliday,  the  subjects  being — the 
grant  of  the  Charter,  coining  money,  the  death  of 
Wat  Tyler,  a  royal  tournament,  &c.  The  new  roof 
is  of  oak,  with  rather  a  high  pitch,  lighted  by  sixteen 
dormers,  eight  on  each  side.  The  height  from  the 
pavement  to  the  under-side  of  the  ridge  is  89  feet, 
the  total  length  is  152  feet ;  and  there  are  eight  bays 
and  seven  principals.  The  roof,  which  does  great 
credit  to  Mr.  Jones,  is  double-lined  oak  and  deal, 
slated.  The  hall  is  lighted  by  sixteen  gaseliers. 
A  screen,  with  dais  or  hustings  at  the  east  end,  is 
of  carved  oak.  There  is  a  minstrels'  gallery  and 
a  new  stone  floor  with  coloured  bands. 

The  fine  crypt  under  the  Guildhall  was,  till  its 
restoration  in  the  year  1851,  a  mere  receptacle  for 
the  planks,  benches,  and  trestles  used  at  the  City 
banquets. 

"  This  crypt  is  by  far  the  finest  and  most  exten- 
sive undercroft  remaining  in  London,  and  is  a  true 
portion  of  the  ancient  hall  (erected  in  141 1)  which 
escaped  the  Great  Fire  of  1666.  It  extends  half 
the  length  beneath  the  Guildhall,  from  east  to 
west,  and  is  divided  nearly  equally  by  a  wall,  having 
an  ancient  pointed  door.  The  crypt  is  divided 
into  aisles  by  clustered  columns,  from  which  spring 
the  stone-ribbed  groins  of  the  vaulting,  composed 
partly  of  chalk  and  stone,  the  principal  inter- 
sections being  covered  with  carved  bosses  of  flowers, 
heads,  and  shields.  The  north  and  south  aisles 
had  formerly  mullioned  windows,  long  walled  up. 
At  the  eastern  end  is  a  fine  Early  English  arched 
entrance,  in  fair  preservation ;  and  in  the  south- 
eastern angle  is  an  octangular  recess,  which  for- 
merly was  ceiled  by  an  elegantly  groined  roof, 
height  thirteen  feet.  The  vaulting,  with  four  centred 
arches,  is  very  striking,  and  is  probably  some  of 
the  earliest  of  the  sort,  which  seems  peculiar  to  this 
country.  Though  called  the  Tudor  arch,  the  time 
of  its  introduction  was  Lancastrian  (see  Weale's 
'London,'  p.  159).  In  1851  the  stone-work  was 
rubbed  down  and  cleaned,  and  the  clustered  shafts 
and  capitals  were  repaired ;  and  on  the  visit  of 
Queen  Victoria  to  Guildhall,  July  9,  1851,  a  ban- 
quet was  served  to  her  Majesty  and  suite  in  this 
crypt,  which  was  characteristically  decorated  for 
the  occasion.  Opposite  the  north  entrance  is  a 
large  antique  bowl  of  Egyptian  red  granite,  which 
was  presented  to  the  Corporation  by  Major  Cook- 
son,  in  1802,  as  a  memorial  of  the  British  achieve- 
ments in  Egypt."     (Timbs.) 

"  There  was  something  very  picturesque,"  says 


Brayley,  "  in  the  old  Guildhall  entrance.  On  each 
side  of  the  flight  of  steps  was  an  octangular 
turreted  gallery,  balustraded,  having  an  oftice  in 
Gach,  appropriated  to  the  hall-keeper:  these  galleries 
assumed  the  appearance  of  arbours,  from  being 
each  surrounded  by  six  palm-trees  in  iron-work,  the 
foliage  of  which  gave  support  to  a  large  balcony, 
having  in  front  a  clock  (with  three  dials)  elabo- 
rately ornamented,  and  underneath  a  representa- 
tion of  the  sun,  resplendent  with  gilding ;  the 
clock-frame  was  of  oak.  At  the  angles  were  the 
cardinal  virtues,  and  on  the  top  a  curious  figure  of 
Time,  with  a  young  child  in  his  arms.  On  brackets 
to  the  right  and  left  of  the  balcony  were  the 
gigantic  figures  of  Gog  and  Magog,  as  before-men- 
tioned, giving,  by  their  vast  size  and  singular 
costume,  an  unique  character  to  the  whole.  At 
the  sides  of  the  steps,  under  the  hall-keeper's  office, 
were  two  dark  cells,  or  cages,  in  which  unruly 
apprentices  were  occasionally  confined,  by  order  of 
the  City  Chamberlain ;  these  were  called  '  Little 
Ease,'  from  not  being  of  sufficient  height  for  a  big 
boy  to  stand  upright  in  them," 

The  Gog  and  Magog,  those  honest  giants  of 
Guildhall  who  have  looked  down  on  many  a  good 
dinner  with  imperturbable  self-denial,  have  been  the 
unconscious  occasion  of  much  inkshed.  Who  did 
they  represent,  and  were  they  really  carried  about  in 
Lord  Mayor's  Shows,  was  discussed  by  many  gene- 
rations of  angry  antiquaries.  In  Strype's  time, 
when  there  were  pictures  of  Queen  Anne,  King 
William  and  his  consort  Mary,  at  the  east  end  of 
the  hall,  the  two  pantomime  giants  of  renown 
stood  by  the  steps  going  up  to  the  Mayor's  Court. 
The  one  holding  a  poleaxe  with  a  spiked  ball, 
Strype  considered,  represented  a  Briton ;  the  other, 
with  a  halbert,  he  opined  to  be  a  Saxon.  Both  of 
them  wore  garlands.  What  was  denied  to  great 
and  learned  was  disclosed  to  the  poor  and  simple. 
Hone,  the  bookseller,  or  one  of  his  writers,  came 
into  possession  of  a  little  guide-book  sold  to  visitors 
to  the  Guildhall  in  1741  ;  this  set  Mr.  Fairholt,  a 
most  diligent  antiquary,  on  the  right  track,  and  he 
soon  settled  the  matter  for  ever.  Gog  and  Magog 
were  really  Corineus  and  Gogmagog.  The  former, 
a  companion  of  Brutus  the  Trojan,  killed,  as  the 
story  goes,  Gog-magog,  the  aboriginal  giant. 

Our  sketch  of  City  pageants  has  already  shown 
that  two  hundred  years  ago  giants  named  Cori- 
neus and  Gogmagog  (which  ought  to  have  put 
our  antiquaries  earlier  on  the  right  scent)  formed 
part  of  the  procession.  In  1672  Thomas  Jordan, 
the  City  poet,  in  his  own  account  of  the  cere- 
monial, especially  mentions  two  giants  fifteen 
feet  high,  in  two  several  chariots,    '^'talking  and 


GuildhalLl 


THE  GUILDHALL  GIANTS  AND  MONUMENTS. 


387 


taking  tobacco  as  they  ride  along,"  to  the  great 
admiration  and  dehght  of  the  spectators.  "At  the 
conclusion  of  the  show,"  says  the  writer,  "  they 
are  to  be  set  up  in  Guildhall,  where  they  may  be 
daily  seen  all  the  year,  and,  I  hope,  never  to  be 
demoHshed  by  such  dismal  violence  (the  Great  Fire) 
as  happened  to  their  predecessors."  These  giants 
of  Jordan's,  being  built  of  wickerwork  and  paste- 
board, at  last  fell  to  decay.  In  1706  two  new  and 
more  solid  giants  of  wood  were  carved  for  the 
City  by  Richard  Saunders,  a  captain  in  the  trained 
band,  and  a  carver,  in  King  Street,  Cheapside.  In 
1837,  Alderman  Lucas  being  mayor,  copies  of 
these  giants  walked  in  the  show,  turning  their 
great  painted  heads  and  goggling  eyes,  to  the 
delight  of  the  spectators.  The  Guildhall  giants, 
as  Mr.  Fairholt  has  shown,  with  his  usual  honest 
industry,  are  mentioned  by  many  of  our  early  poets, 
dramatists,  and  writers,  as  Shirley,  facetious  Bishop 
Corbet,  George  Wither,  and  Ned  Ward.  In  Hone's 
time  City  children  visiting  Guildhall  used  to  be 
told  that  every  day  when  the  giants  heard  the  clock 
strike  twelve  they  came  down  to  dinner,  Mr. 
Fairholt,  in  his  "Gog  and  Magog"  (1859),  has 
shown  by  many  examples  how  professional  giants 
(protectors  or  destroyers  of  lives)  are  still  common 
in  the  annual  festivals  of  half  the  great  towns  of 
Flanders  and  of  France. 

In  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  says  Mr.  Fair- 
holt, in  his  "  Gog  and  Magog,"  the  Guildhall  was 
occupied  by  shopkeepers,  after  the  fashion  of  our 
bazaars  ;  and  one  Thomas  Boreman,  bookseller, 
"  neai  the  Giants,  in  Guildhall,"  published,  in  1 741, 
two  very  small  volumes  of  their  "  gigantick  history," 
in  which  he  tells  us  that  as  Corineus  and  Gogmagog 
were  two  brave  giants,  who  nicely  valued  their 
honour,  and  exerted  their  whole  strength  and  force 
in  defence  of  their  liberty  and  country,  so  the  City 
of  London,  by  placing  these  their  representatives 
in  their  Guildhall,  emblematically  declare  that  they 
will,  like  mighty  giants,  defend  the  honour  of  their 
country  and  liberties  of  this  their  city,  which  excels 
all  others  as  much  as  those  huge  giants  exceed  in 
stature  the  common  bulk  of  mankind. 

The  author  of  this  little  volume  then  gives  his 
version  of  the  tale  of  the  encounter,  "wherein  the 
giants  were  all  destroyed,  save  Goemagog,  the 
hugest  among  them,  who,  being  in  height  twelve 
cubits,  was  reserved  alive,  that  Corineus  might  try 
his  strength  with  him  in  single  combat.  Corineus 
desired  nothing  more  than  such  a  match ;  but  the 
old  giant,  in  a  wrestle,  caught  him  aloft  and  broke 
tliree  of  his  ribs.  Upon  this,  Corineus,  being  des- 
perately enraged,  collected  all  his  strength,  heaved 
up  Goemagog  by  main  force,  and  bearing  him  on 


his  shoulders  to  the  next  high  rock,  threw  him 
headlong,  all  shattered,  into  the  sea,  and  left  his 
name  on  the  cliff,  which  has  ever  since  been  called 
Lan-Goemagog,  that  is  to  say,  the  Giant's  Leap. 
Thus  perished  Goemagog,  commonly  called  Gog- 
magog, the  last  of  the  giants." 

The  early  popularity  of  this  tale  is  testified  by 
its  occurrence  in  the  curious  history  of  the  Fitz- 
Warines,  composed,  in  the  thirteenth  century,  in 
Anglo-Norman,  no  doubt  by  a  writer  who  resided 
on  the  Welsh  border,  and  who,  in  describing  a 
visit  paid  by  William  the  Conqueror  there,  speaks 
of  that  sovereign  asking  the  history  of  a  burnt  and 
ruined  town,  and  an  old  Briton  thus  giving  it  him  : 
— "  None  inhabited  these  parts  except  very  foul 
people,  great  giants,  whose  king  was  called  Goe- 
magog. These  heard  of  the  arrival  of  Brutus,  and 
went  out  to  encounter  him,  and  at  last  all  the 
giants  were  killed  except  Goemagog." 

Dance's  entrance  to  the  courts  was  made  exactly 
opposite  the  grand  south  entrance.  Four  large 
tasteless  cenotaphs,  more  fit  for  the  Pantheon  of 
London,  St.  Paul's,  than  for  anywhere  else,  are 
erected  in  Guildhall — to  the  north,  those  of  Beck- 
ford,  the  Earl  of  Clarendon,  and  Nelson ;  on  the 
south,  that  of  William  Pitt. 

The  monument  to  Beckford,  the  bold  opposer 
of  the  arbitrary  measures  of  a  mistaken  court  and 
a  misguided  Parliament,  is  by  Moore,  a  sculptor 
who  lived  in  Berners  Street.  It  represents  the 
alderman  in  the  act  of  delivering  the  celebrated 
speech  which  is  engraved  on  the  pedestal,  and 
which,  as  Horace  Walpole  (who  delighted  in  the 
mischief)  says,  made  the  king  uncertain  whether  to 
sit  still  and  silent,  or  to  pick  up  his  robes  and 
hurry  into  his  private  room.  At  the  angles  of  the 
pedestal  are  two  female  figures.  Liberty  and  Com- 
merce, mourning  for  the  alderman. 

The  monument  of  the  Earl  of  Chatham,  by 
Bacon  (executed  in  1782  for  3,000  guineas),  is  of 
a  higher  style  than  Beckford's,  and,  like  its  com- 
panion, it  is  a  period  of  political  excitement  turned 
into  stone.  If  it  were  the  custom  to  delay  the 
erection  of  statues  to  eminent  men  twenty  years 
after  their  death,  how  many  would  ever  be  erected  ? 
The  usual  cold  allegory,  in  this  instance,  is  atoned 
for  by  some  dignity  of  mind.  The  great  earl  (a 
Roman  senator,  of  course),  his  left  hand  on  a  helm, 
is  placing  his  right  hand  affectionately  on  the 
plump  shoulders  of  Commerce,  who,  as  a  blushing 
young  debutante,  is  being  presented  to  him  by  the 
City  of  London,  who  wears  a  mural  crown,  pro- 
bably because  London  has  no  walls.  In  the 
foreground  is  the  sculptor's  everlasting  Britannia, 
seated  on  her  small  but  serviceable  steed,  the  lion, 


388 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Guildhall. 


and  receiving  into  her  capacious  lap  the  contents 
of  a  cornucopia  of  Plenty,  poured  into  it  by  four 
children,  who  represent  the  four  quarters  of  the 
world.     The  inscription  was  \vritten  by  Burke. 

Nelson's  fame  is  very  imperfectly  honoured  by  a 
pile  of  allegory,  erected  in  iSii  by  the  entirely 
forgotten  Mr.  James  Smith,  for  jQj^,442  7s.  4d. 
This  deplorable  mass  of  stone  consists  of  a  huge 
figure  of  Neptune  looking  at  Britannia,  who  is 
mournfully  contemplating  a  very  small  profile  relief 
of  the  departed  hero,  on  a  small  dusty  medallion 
about  the  size  of  a  maid-servant's  locket.  To 
crown  all  this  tame  stuff  there  are  some  flags  and 
trophies,  and  a  pyramid,  on  which  the  City  of 
London  (female  figure)  is  writing  the  words  "  Nile, 
Copenhagen,  Trafalgar."  With  admirable  taste  the 
sculptor,  who  knew  what  his  female  figures  were, 
has  turned  the  City  of  London  with  her  back  to 
the  spectator.  At  the  base  of  this  absurd  monu- 
ment two  sailors  watch  over  a  bas-relief  of  the 
battle  of  Trafalgar,  which  certainly  no  one  of  taste 
would  steal.  The  inscription  is  from  the  florid 
pen  of  Sheridan. 

Facing  his  father,  the  gouty  old  Roman  of  the 
true  rock,  stands  William  Pitt,  lean,  arrogant,  and 
with  the  nose  "  on  which  he  dangled  the  Oppo- 
sition" sufficiently  prominent.  It  was  the  work  of 
J.  G.  Bubb,  and  was  erected  in  181 2,  at  a  cost  of 
;!^4,o78  17s.  3d.;  and  a  pretty  mixture  of  the  Greek 
Pantheon  and  the  English  House  of  Commons  it  is ! 
Pitt  stands  on  a  rock,  dressed  as  Chancellor  of 
the  Exchequer ;  below  him  are  Apollo  and  Mercury, 
to  represent  Eloquence  and  Learning ;  and  a 
woman  on  a  dolphin,  who  stands  for — what  does 
our  reader  think  ? — Natio-nal  Energy.  In  the  fore- 
ground is  what  guide-books  call  "  a  majestic  figure  " 
of  Britannia,  calmly  holding  a  hot  thunderbolt  and 
a  cold  trident,  and  riding  side-saddle  on  a  sea-horse. 
The  inscription  is  by  Canning.  The  statue  of 
Wellington,  by  Bell,  cost  ;^4,966  los. 

The  Court  of  Aldermen  is  a  richly-gilded  room 
with  a  stucco  ceiling,  painted  with  allegorical  figures 
of  the  hereditary  virtues  of  the  City  of  London — 
Justice,  Prudence,  Temperance,  and  Fortitude — 
by  that  over-rated  painter,  Hogarth's  father-in-law, 
Sir  James  Thornhill,  who  was  presented  by  the 
Corporation  with  a  gold  cup,  value  ^^225  7  s.  In 
the  cornices  are  emblazoned  the  arms  of  all  the 
mayors  since  1780  (the  year  of  the  Gordon  riots). 
Each  alderman's  chair  bears  his  name  and  arms. 

The  apartment,  says  a  writer  in  Knight's  "Lon- 
don," as  its  name  tells  us,  is  used  for  the  sittings 
of  the  Court  of  Aldermen,  who,  in  judicial  matters, 
form  the  bench  of  magistrates  for  the  City,  and 
in  their  more  directly  corporate  capacity  try  the 


^  alidity  of  ward  elections,  and  claims  to  freedom ; 
who  admit  and  swear  brokers,  superintend  prisons, 
order  prosecutions,  and  perform  a  variety  of  other 
analogous  duties ;  a  descent,  certainly,  from  the  high 
position  of  the  ancient  "  ealdormen,"  or  superior 
Saxon  nobility,  from  whom  they  derive  their  name 
and  partly  their  functions.  They  were  called 
"barons"  down  to  the  time  of  Henry  I.,  if,  as  is 
probable,  the  latter  term  in  the  charter  of  that  king 
refers  to  the  aldermen.  A  striking  proof  of  the 
high  rank  and  importance  of  the  individuals  so 
designated  is  to  be  found  in  the  circumstance  that 
the  wards  of  London  of  which  they  were  aldermen 
were,  in  some  cases  at  least,  their  own  heritable 
property,  and  as  such  bought  and  sold  and  trans- 
ferred under  particular  circumstances.  Thus,  the 
aldermanry  of  a  ward  was  purchased,  in  1279,  by 
William  Faryngdon,  who  gave  it  his  own  name,  and 
in  whose  family  it  remained  upwards  of  eighty 
years  ;  and  in  another  case  the  Knighten  Guild 
having  given  the  lands  and  soke  of  what  is  now 
called  Portsoken  Ward  to  Trinity  Priory,  the  prior 
became,  in  consequence,  alderman,  and  so  the 
matter  remained  in  Stow's  time,  who  beheld  the 
prior  of  his  day  riding  in  procession  with  the  mayor 
and  aldermen,  only  distinguished  from  them  by 
wearing  a  purple  instead  of  a  scarlet  gown. 

Each  of  the  twenty-six  wards  into  which  the  City 
is  divided  elects  one  alderman,  with  the  exception  of 
Cripplegate  Within  and  Cripplegate  Without,  which 
together  send  but  one ;  add  to  them  an  alderman 
for  Southwark,  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called.  Bridge 
Ward  Without,  and  we  have  the  entire  number  of 
twenty-six,  including  the  mayor.  They  are  elected 
for  life  at  ward-motes,  by  sucli  houseliolders  as 
are  at  the  same  time  freemen,  and  paying  not  less 
than  thirty  shillings  to  the  local  taxes.  The  fine 
for  the  rejection  of  the  ofiice  is  ^^500.  Generally 
speaking,  the  aldermen  consist  of  those  persons 
who,  as  common  councilmen,  have  won  the  good 
opinion  of  their  fellows,  and  who  are  presumed  to 
be  fitted  for  the  higher  offices. 

Talking  of  the  ancient  aldermen,  Kemble,  in 
his  learned  work,  "  The  Saxons  in  England," 
says: — "The  new  constitution  introduced  by 
Cnut  reduced  the  ealdorman  to  a  subordinate 
position.  Over  several  counties  was  now  placed 
one  eorl,  or  earl,  in  the  northern  sense  a  jarl, 
with  power  analogous  to  that  of  the  Frankish 
dukes.  The  word  ealdorman  itself  was  used  by 
the  Danes  to  denote  a  class — gentle  indeed,  but 
very  inferior  to  the  princely  officers  who  had 
previously  borne  that  title.  It  is  under  Cnut,  and 
the  following  Danish  kings,  that  we  gradually  lose 
sight  of  the  old  ealdormen.     The  king  rules  by  his 


Guildhall.] 


THE    CITY    LAW-COURTS    AND    CITY    CHAMBERLAIN. 


3S9 


earls  and  his  huscarlas,  and  the  ealdormen  vanish 
from  the  counties.  From  this  time  the  king's 
writs  are  directed  to  the  earl,  the  bishop,  and  the 
sheriff  of  the  county,  but  in  no  one  of  them  does 
the  title  of  the  ealdorman  any  longer  occur ;  while 
those  sent  to  the  towns  are  directed  to  the  bishop 
and  the  portgerefa,  or  prefect  of  the  city.  Gradually 
the  old  title  ceases  altogether,  except  in  the  cities, 
yhere  it  denotes  an  inferior  judicature,  much  as 
it  does  among  ourselves  at  the  present  day," 

"The  courts  for  the  City"  in  Stow's  time  were  : — 
"  I.  The  Court  of  Common  Council.  2.  The  Court 
of  the  Lord  Maior,  and  his  brethren  the  Aldermen, 
3.  The  Court  of  Hustings.  4.  The  Court  of 
Orphans.  5.  The  Court  of  the  Sheriffs.  6,  The 
Court  of  the  Wardmote,  7.  The  Court  of  Hall- 
mote,  8.  The  Court  of  Requests,  commonly  called 
the  Court  of  Conscience,  9,  The  Chamberlain's 
Court  for  Apprentices,  and  making  them  free." 

In  the  Court  of  Exchequer,  formerly  the  Court  of 
King's  Bench  (where  the  Mayor's  Court  is  still 
held).  Stow  describes  one  of  the  windows  put  up 
by  Whittington's  executors,  as  containing  a  blazon 
of  the  mayor,  seated,  in  parti-coloured  habit,  and 
with  his  hood  on.  At  the  back  of  the  judge's  seat 
there  used  to  be  paintings  of  Prudence,  Justice, 
Religion,  and  Fortitude.  Here  there  is  a  large 
picture,  by  Alaux,  of  Paris,  presented  by  Louis 
Philippe,  representing  his  reception  of  an  address 
from  the  City,  on  his  visit  to  England,  in  1844. 
This  part  of  the  Guildhall  treasures  also  contains 
several  portraits  of  George  III.  and  Queen  Char- 
lotte, by  Reynolds'  rival,  Ramsay  (son  of  Allan 
Ramsay  the  poet),  and  William  HI.  and  Queen 
Mary,  by  Van  der  Vaart.  There  is  a  pair  of 
classical  subjects — Minerva,  by  Westall,  and  Apollo 
washing  his  locks  in  the  Castalian  Fountains,  by 
Gavin  Hamilton. 

*'  The  greater  portion  of  the  judicial  business  of 
the  Corporation  is  carried  on  here ;  that  business,  as 
a  whole,  comprising  in  its  civil  jurisdiction,  first,  the 
Court  of  Hustings,  the  Supreme  Court  of  Record 
in  London,  and  which  is  frequently  resorted  to  in 
outlawry,  and  other  cases  where  an  expeditious 
judgment  is  desired ;  secondly,  the  Lord  Mayor's 
Court,  which  has  cognisance  of  all  personal  and 
mixed  actions  at  common  law,  which  is  a  court  of 
equity,  and  also  a  criminal  court  in  matters  per- 
taining to  the  customs  of  London ;  and,  thirdly, 
the  Sheriffs'  Court,  which  has  a  common  law  juris- 
diction only.  We  may  add  that  the  jurisdiction  of 
both  courts  is  confined  to  the  City  and  liberties,  or, 
in  other  words,  to  those  portions  of  incorporated 
London  known  respectively,  in  corporate  language, 
as  Within  the  walls  and  Without.     The  criminal 


jurisdiction  includes  the  London  Sessions,  held 
generally  eight  times  a  year,  with  the  Recorder  as 
the  acting  judge,  for  the  trial  of  felonies,  &c.;  the 
South wark  Sessions,  held  in  South wark  four  times 
a  year ;  and  the  eight  Courts  of  Conservancy  of  the 
River." 

Passing  into  the  Chamberlain's  Office,  we  find  a 
portrait  of  Mr.  Thomas  Tomkins,  by  Reynolds; 
and  if  it  be  asked  who  is  Mr.  Thomas  Tomkins, 
we  have  only  to  say,  in  the  words  of  the  inscription 
on  another  great  man,  "  Look  around  ! "  All  these 
beautifully  written  and  emblazoned  duplicates  of 
the  honorary  freedoms  and  thanks  voted  by  the 
City,  some  sixty  or  more,  we  believe,  in. number, 
are  the  sole  production  of  him  who,  we  regret  to 
say,  is  the  late  Mr.  Thomas  Tomkins.  The  duties 
of  the  Chamberlain  are  numerous  ;  among  them 
the  most  worthy  of  mention,  perhaps,  are  the  ad- 
mission, on  oath,  of  freemen  (till  of  late  years 
averaging  in  number  one  thousand  a  year) ;  the 
determining  quarrels  between  masters  and  appren- 
tices (Hogarth's  prints  of  the  "  Idle  and  Industrious 
Apprentice  "  are  the  first  things  you  see  within  the 
door) ;  and,  lastly,  the  treasurership,  in  which  de- 
partment various  sums  of  money  pass  through  his 
hands.  In  1832,  the  latest  year  for  which  we  have 
any  authenticated  statement,  the  corporate  receipts, 
derived  chiefly  from  rents,  dues,  and  market  tolls, 
amounted  to  ;^i6o,i93  iis.  8d.,  and  the  expen- 
diture to  somewhat  more.  Near  the  door  numerous 
written  papers  attract  the  eye — the  useful  daily 
memoranda  of  the  multifarious  business  eternally 
going  on,  and  which,  in  addition  to  the  matters 
already  incidentally  referred  to,  point  out  one  of 
the  modes  in  which  that  business  is  accomplished 
— the  committees.  We  read  of  appointments  for 
the  Committee  of  the  Royal  Exchange — of  Sewers 
— of  Corn,  Coal,  and  Finance — of  Navigation — of 
Police,  and  so  on.    (Knight's  *'  London,"  1843.) 

In  other  rooms  of  the  Guildhall  are  the  fol- 
lowing interesting  pictures  : — Opie's  "  Murder  of 
James  I.  of  Scotland;"  Reynolds'  portrait  of  the 
great  Lord  Camden ;  two  studies  of  a  "  Tiger,"  and 
a  "Lioness  and  her  Young,"  by  Northcote;  the 
"  Battle  of  Towton,"  by  Boydell ;  "  Conjugal  Af- 
fection," by  Smirke ;  and  portraits  of  Sir  Robert 
Clayton,  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  and  Alderman  Waith- 
man.  These  pictures  are  curious  as  marking  various 
progressive  periods  of  English  art. 

A  large  folding-screen,  painted,  it  is  said,  by 
Copley,  represents  the  Lord  Mayor  Beckford 
delivering  the  City  sword  to  George  III.,  at  Temple 
Bar ;  interesting  for  its  portraits,  and  record  of  the 
costume  of  the  period ;  presented  by  Alderman 
Salomons  to  the  City  in  1850.     Here  once  hung  a 


390 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Guildhall. 


large  picture  of  the  battle  of  Agincourt,  painted  by 
Sir  Robert  Ker  Porter,  when  nineteen  years  of  age, 
assisted  by  the  late  Mr.  Mulr^ady,  and  presented 
to  the  City  in  1808. 

The    Common    Council    room   (says    Brayley) 
is  a  compact  and  well-proportioned    apartment, 


however,  was  executed  at  the  expense  of  the  Cor- 
poration, by  J.  S.  Copley,  R.A.,  in  honour  of  the 
gallant  defence  of  Gibraltar  by  General  Elliot, 
aftenvards  Lord  Heathfield;  it  measures  twenty-five 
feet  in  width,  and  about  twenty  in  height,  and 
represents  the  destruction  of  the  floating  batteries 


THE  COURT  OF  ALDERMEN,    GUILDHALL.       (See pa^e  2,^^ .) 


appropriately  fitted  up  for  the  assembly  of  the  Court 
of  Common  Council,  which  consists  of  the  Lord 
Mayor,  twenty  aldermen,  and  236  deputies  from 
the  City  wards;  the  middle  part  is  formed  into  a 
square  by  four  Tuscan  arches,  sustaining  a  cupola, 
by  which  the  light  is  admitted.  Here  is  a  splendid 
collection  of  paintings,  and  some  statuary  :  for  the 
former  the  City  is  chiefly  indebted  to  the  munifi- 
cence of  the  late  Mr.  Alderman  John  Boydell,  who 
was  Lord  Mayor  in  1791.     The  principal  picture, 


before  the  above  fortress  on  the  13th  of  September, 
1782.  The  principal  figures,  which  are  as  large  as 
life,  are  portraits  of  the  governor  and  officers  of 
the  garrison.  It  cost  the  City  ;^i,543-  Here 
also  are  four  pictures,  by  Paton,  representing  other 
events  in  that  celebrated  siege  ;  and  two  by  Dodd, 
of  the  engagement  in  the  West  Indies  between 
Admirals  Rodney  and  De  Grasse  in  1782. 

Against   the  south  wall   are   ])ortraits   of  Lord 
Heathfield,  after  Sir  Joshua  Reynoldsj  the  Marquis 


Guildhall.J 


THE   COMMON   COUNCIL  ROOM. 


391 


302 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Guildhait 


Cornwallis,  by  Copley;  Admiral  Lord  Viscount 
Hood,  by  Abbatt ;  and  Mr.  Alderman  Boydell,  by 
Sir  William  Beechey ;  also,  a  large  picture  of  the 
"Murder  of  David  Rizzio,"  by  Opie.  On  the  north 
wall  is  "  Sir  William  Walworth  killing  Wat  Tyler," 
by  Northcote ;  and  the  following  portraits  :  viz.. 
Admiral  Lord  Rodney,  after  Monnoyer ;  Admiral 
Earl  Howe,  copied  by  G.  Kirkland;  Admiral 
Lord  Duncan,  by  Hoppner;  Admirals  the  Earl 
of  St.  Vincent  and  Lord  Viscount  Nelson,  by  Sir 
William  Beechey;  and  David  Finder,  Esq.,  by 
Opie.  The  subjects  of  tliree  other  pictures  are 
more  strictly  municipal — namely,  the  Ceremony  of 
Administering  the  Civic  Oath  to  Mr.  Alderman 
Newnham  as  Lord  Mayor,  on  the  Hustings  at 
Guildhall,  November  8th,  1782  (this  was  painted 
by  Miller,  and  includes  upwards  of  140  portraits 
of  the  aldermen,  &c.) ;  the  Lord  Mayor's  Show 
on  the  water,  November  the  9th  (the  vessels  by 
Paton,  the  figures  by  Wheatley) ;  aad  the  Royal 
Entertainment  in  Guildhall  on  the  14th  of  June, 
1 814,  by  William  Daniell,  R.A. 

Within  an  elevated  niche  of  dark-coloured  marble, 
at  the  upper  end  of  the  room,  is  a  fine  statue,  in 
white  marble,  by  Chantrey,  of  George  HL,  which 
was  executed  at  the  cost  to  the  City  of  ^^3,089 
9s.  5d.  He  is  represented  in  his  royal  robes,  with 
his  right  hand  extended,  as  in  the  act  of  answering 
an  address,  the  scroll  of  which  he  is  holding  in  the 
left  hand.  At  the  western  angles  of  the  chamber 
are  busts,  in  white  marble,  of  Admiral  Lord  Vis- 
count Nelson,  by  Mrs.  Damer;  and  the  Duke  of 
Wellington,  by  Tumerelli. 

The  members  of  the  Council  (says  Knight)  are 
elected  by  the  same  class  as  the  aldemien,  but  in  very 
varying  and — in  comparison  with  the  size  and  im- 
portance of  the  wards — inconsequential  numbers. 
Bassishaw  and  Lime  Street  Wards  have  the  smallest 
representation — four  members — and  those  of  Far- 
ringdon  Within  and  Without  the  largest — namely, 
sixteen  and  seventeen.  The  entire  number  of  the 
Council  is  240.  Their  meetings  are  held  under  the 
presidency  of  the  Lord  Mayor ;  and  the  aldermen 
have  also  the  right  of  being  present.  The  other 
chief  officers  of  the  municipality,  as  the  Recorder, 
Chamberlain,  Judges  of  the  Sheriffs'  Courts,  Com- 
mon Serjeant,  the  four  City  Pleaders,  ToAvn  Clerk, 
&c.,  also  attend. 

The  chapel  at  the  east  end  of  the  Guildhall, 
pulled  down  in  1822,  once  called  London  College, 
and  dedicated  to  "  our  Lady  Mary  Magdalen  and  All 
Saints,"  was  built,  says  Stow,  about  the  year  1299. 
It  was  rebuilt  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VI.,  who  allowed 
the  guild  of  St.  Nicholas  for  two  chaplains  to  be 
kept  in  the  said  chapel.     In  Stow's  time  the  chapel 


contained  seven  defaced  marble  tombs,  and  many 
flat  stones  covering  rich  drapers,  fishmongers,  cus- 
toses  of  the  chapel,  chaplains,  and  attorneys  of  the 
Lord  Mayor's  Court.  In  Strype's  time  the  Mayors 
attended  the  weekly  services,  and  services  at  their 
elections  and  feasts.  The  chapel  and  lands  had 
been  bought  of  Edward  VI.  for  ^^4.56  13s.  4d. 
Upon  the  front  of  the  chapel  were  stone  figures  of 
Edward  VI.,  Elizabeth  with  a  phoenix,  and  Charles  I. 
treading  on  a  globe.  On  the  south  side  of  the 
chapel  was  "a  fair  and  large  library,"  originally 
built  by  the  executors  of  Richard  Whittington  and 
William  Bury.  After  the  Protector  Somerset  had 
borrowed  {i.e.,  stolen)  the  books,  the  library  in 
Strype's  time  became  a  storehouse  for  cloth. 

The  New  Library  and  Museum  (says  Mr. 
Overall,  the  librarian),  which  lies  at  the  east  end  of 
the  Guildhall,  occupies  the  site  of  some  old  and 
dilapidated  houses  formerly  fronting  Basinghall 
Street,  and  extending  back  to  the  Guildhall.  The 
total  frontage  of  the  new  buildings  to  this  street  is 
150  feet,  and  the  depth  upwards  of  100  feet.  The 
structure  consists  mainly  of  two  rooms,  or  halls, 
placed  one  over  the  other,  with  reading,  committee, 
and  muniment  rooms  surrounding  them.  Of  these 
two  halls  the  museum  occupies  the  lower  site,  the 
floor  being  level  with  the  ancient  crypt  of  the 
Guildhall,  with  which  it  will  directly  communicate, 
and  is  consequently  somewhat  below  the  present 
level  of  Basinghall  Street.  This  room,  divided  into 
naves  and  aisles,  is  83  feet  long  and  64  feet  wide, 
and  has  a  clear  height  of  26  feet.  The  large  fire- 
proof muniment  rooms  on  this  floor,  entered  from 
the  museum,  are  intended  to  hold  the  valuable 
archives  of  the  City. 

The  library  above  the  museum  is  a  hall  100  feet 
in  length,  65  feet  wide,  and  50  feet  in  height, 
divided,  like  the  museum,  into  naves  and  aisles, 
the  latter  being  fitted  up  with  handsome  oak  book- 
cases, forming  twelve  bays,  into  which  the  furni- 
ture can  be  moved  when  the  nave  is  required  on 
state  occasions  as  a  reception-hall  —  one  of  the 
principal  features  in  the  whole  design  of  this 
building  being  its  adaptability  to  both  the  purpose 
of  a  library  and  a  series  of  reception-rooms  when 
required.  The  hall  is  exceedingly  light,  the 
clerestory  over  the  arcade  of  the  nave,  with  the 
large  windows  at  the  north  and  south  ends  of 
the  room,  together  with  those  in  the  aisles,  trans- 
mitting a  flood  of  light  to  every  corner  of  the 
room.  The  oak  roof — the  arched  ribs  of  which  are 
supported  by  the  arms  of  the  twelve  great  City  Com- 
panies, with  the  addition  of  those  of  the  Leather- 
sellers  and  Broderers,  and  also  the  Royal  and  City 
arms — has  its  several  timbers  richly  moulded,  and 


Guildhall.] 


THE   NEW   CITY  LIBRARY. 


393 


its  spandrils  filled  in  with  tracery,  and  contains 
three  large  louvres  for  lighting  the  roof,  and 
thoroughly  ventilating  the  hall.  The  aisle  roofs, 
the  timbers  of  which  are  also  richly  wrought,  have 
louvres  over  each  bay,  and  the  hall  at  night  may  be 
lighted  by  means  of  sun-burners  suspended  from 
each  of  these  louvres,  together  with  those  in  the 
nave.  Each  of  the  spandrils  of  the  arcade  has,  next 
the  nave,  a  sculptured  head,  representing  History, 
Poetry,  Printing,  Architecture,  Sculpture,  Painting, 
Philosophy,  Law,  Medicine,  Music,  Astronomy, 
Geography,  Natural  History,  and  Botany;  the 
several  personages  chosen  to  illustrate  these  sub- 
jects being  Stow  and  Camden,  Shakespeare  and 
Milton,  Guttenberg  and  Caxton,  William  of  Wyke- 
ham  and  Wren,  Michael  Angelo  and  Flaxman, 
Holbein  and  Hogarth,  Bacon  and  Locke,  Coke 
and  Blackstone,  Harvey  and  Sydenham,  Purcell 
and  Handel,  Galileo  and  Newton,  Columbus  and 
Raleigh,  Linnaeus  and  Cuvier,  Ray  and  Gerard. 
There  are  three  fireplaces  in  this  room.  The  one 
at  the  north  end,  executed  in  D'Aubigny  stone,  is 
very  elaborate  in  detail,  the  frieze  consisting  of  a 
panel  of  painted  tiles,  executed  by  Messrs.  Gibbs 
and  Moore,  and  the  subject  an  architectonic  design 
of  a  procession-  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  with  the 
City  of  London  in  the  middle. 

Among  the  choicest  books  are  the  following  : — 
"Liber  Custumarum,"  ist  to  the  17th  Henry  II. 
(1154-1171).  Edited  by  Mr.  Riley. — "Liber  de 
Antiquis  Legibus,"  ist  Richard  I.,  11 88.  Treats  of 
old  laws  of  London.  Translated  by  Riley. — "Liber 
Dunthorn,"so  called  from  the  writer,  who  was  Town- 
clerk  of  London.  Contains  transcripts  of  Charters 
from  William  the  Conqueror  to  3rd  Edward  IV, — 
"Liber  Ordinationum,"  9th  Edward  III.,  1225,  to 
Henry  VII.  Contains  the  early  statutes  of  the 
realm,  the  ancient  customs  and  ordinances  of  the 
City  of  London.  At  folio  154  are  entered  in- 
structions to  the  citizens  of  London  as  to  their 
conduct  before  the  Justices  Itinerant  at  the  Tower. 
— "Liber  Horn"  (by  Andrew  Horn).  Contains  tran- 
scripts of  charters,  statutes,  &c. — The  celebrated 
"  Liber  Albus." — "  Liber  Fleetwood."  Names  of 
all  the  courts  of  law  within  the  realm  ;  the  arms  of 
the  Lord  Mayor,  Aldermen,  &c.,  for  1576;  the 
liberties,  customs,  and  charters  of  the  Cinque  Ports; 
the  Queen's  Prerogative  in  the  Salt  Shores  ;  the 
liberties  of  St.  Martin's-le-Grand. 

A  series  of  letter  books.  These  books  commence 
about  140  yearsbefore  the  "Journals  of  the  Common 
Council,"  and  about  220  years  before  the  "Reper- 
tories of  the  Court  of  Aldermen ;"  they  contain 
almost  the  only  records  of  those  courts  prior  to 
the  commencement  of  such  journals  and  repertories. 


"  Journals  of  the  Proceedings  of  the  Common 
Council,  from  1416  to  the  present  time." — "  Reper- 
tories containing  the  Proceedings  of  the  Court  of 
Aldermen  from  1495  to  the  present  time." — "Re- 
membrancia."  A  collection  of  correspondence, 
&c.,  between  the  sovereigns,  various  eminent  states- 
men, the  Lord  Mayors  and  the  Courts  of  Aldermen 
and  Common  Council,  on  matters  relating  to  the 
government  of  the  City  and  country  at  large.  "  Fire 
Decrees.  Decrees  made  by  virtue  of  an  Act  for 
erecting  a  judicature  for  determination  of  differences 
touching  houses  burnt  or  demolished  by  reason  of 
the  late  fire  which  happened  in  London." 

Of  the  many  historical  events  that  have  taken 
place  in  the  Guildhall,  we  will  now  recapitulate  a 
few.  Chaucer  was  connected  with  one  of  the  most 
tumultuous  scenes  in  the  Guildhall  of  Richard  II.'s 
time.  In  1382  the  City,  worn  out  with  the  king's 
tyrannyandexactions,selected  John  of  Northampton 
mayor  in  place  of  the  king's  favourite,  Sir  Nicholas 
Brember.  A  tumult  arose  when  Brember  endea- 
voured to  hinder  the  election,  which  ended  with  a 
body  of  troops  under  Sir  Robert  Knolles  interposing 
and  installing  the  king's  nominee.  John  of  North- 
ampton was  at  once  packed  off  to  Corfe  Castle, 
and  Chaucer  fled  to  the  Continent.  He  returned 
to  London  in  1386,  and  was  elected  member  for 
Kent.  But  the  king  had  not  forgotten  his  conduct 
at  the  Guildhall,  and  he  was  at  once  deprived  of 
the  Comptrollership  of  the  Customs  in  the  Port  of 
London,  and  sent  to  the  Tower.  Plere  he  petitioned 
the  government. 

Having  alluded  to  the  delicious  hours  he  was 
wont  to  spend  enjoying  the  blissful  seasons,  and 
contrasted  them  with  his  penance  in  the  dark 
prison,  cut  off  from  ftiendship  and  acquaintances, 
"forsaken  of  all  that  any  word  dare  speak"  for 
him,  he  continues :  "  Although  I  had  little  in 
respect  (comparison)  among  others  great  and 
worthy,  yet  had  I  a  fair  parcel,  as  methought 
for  the  time,  in  furthering  of  my  sustenance ;  and 
had  riches  sufficient  to  waive  need  ;  and  had  dignity 
to  be  reverenced  in  worship;  power  methought 
that  I  had  to  keep .  from  mine  enemies ;  and 
meseemed  to  shine  in  glory  of  renown.  Every 
one  of  those  joys  is  turned  into  his  contrary ;  for 
riches,  now  have  I  poverty ;  for  dignity,  now  am 
I  imprisoned;  instead  of  power,  wretchedness  I 
suffer ;  and  for  glory  of  renown,  I  am  now  despised 
and  fully  hated."  Chaucer  was  set  free  in  1389, 
having,  it  is  said,  though  we  hope  unjustly,  pur- 
chased freedom  by  dishonourable  disclosures  as  to 
his  former  associates. 

It  was  at  the  Guildhall,  a  few  weeks  after  the 
death  of  Edward  IV.,  and  while  the  princes  were 


394 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Guildhall. 


in  the  Tower,  that  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  "  the 
deep  revolving  witty  Buckingham,"  Richard's  ac- 
comphce,  convened  a  meeting  of  citizens  in  order  to 
prepare  the  way  for  Richard's  mounting  the  throne. 
Shakespeare,  closely  following  Hall  and  Sir  Thomas 
More,  thus  sketches  the  scene  : — 

Buck.       #       »       #       #       * 
Withal,  I  did  infer  your  lineaments, 
Being  the  right  idea  of  your  father, 
Both  in  your  form  and  nobleness  of  mind  : 
Laid  open  all  your  victories  in  Scotland, 
Your  discipline  in  war,  wisdom  in  peace, 
Your  bounty,  virtue,  fair  humility  ; 
Indeed,  left  nothing  fitting  for  your  purpose 
Untotlch'd,  or  slightly  handled,  in  discourse  ; 
And,  when  my  oratory  drew  toward  end, 
I  bade  them  that  did  love  their  country's  good 
Cry,  "God  save  Richard,  England's  royal  king  !" 

Glo.  And  did  they  so  ? 

Buck.  No,  so  God  help  me,  they  spake  not  a  word  ; 
But,  like  dumb  statues  or  breathing  stones, 
Stared  each  on  other,  and  look'd  deadly  pale. 
Which  when  I  saw  I  reprehended  them. 
And  ask'd  the  mayor  what  meant  this  wilful  silence  ? 
His  answer  was,  the  people  were  not  us'd 
To  be  spoke  to  but  by  the  recorder. 
Then  he  was  urg'd  to  tell  my  tale  again — 
"  Thus  saith  the  duke,  thus  hath  the  duke  inferr'd  ;" 
But  nothing  spoke  in  warrant  from  himself. 
When  he  had  done,  some  followers  of  mine  own 
At  lower  end  o'  the  hall,  hurl'd  up  their  caps, 
And  some  ten  voices  cried,  "God  save  King  Richard  !" 
And  thus  I  took  the  vantage  of  those  few — 
"  Thanks,  gentle  citizens  and  friends,"  quoth  I ; 
' '  This  general  applause  and  cheerful  shout. 
Argues  your  wisdom,  and  your  love  to  Richard  :" 
And  even  here  brake  off,  and  came  away. 

Anne  Askew,  tried  at  the  Guildhall  in  Henry 
VHL's  reign,  was  the  daughter  of  Sir  William 
Askew,  a  Lincolnshire  gentleman,  and  had  been 
married  to  a  Papist,  who  had  turned  her  out  of 
doors  on  her  becoming  a  Protestant.  On  coming 
to  London  to  sue  for  a  separation,  this  lady  had 
been  favourably  received  by  the  queen  and  the 
court  ladies,  to  whom  she  had  denounced  tran- 
substantiation,  and  distributed  tracts.  Bishop 
Bonner  soon  had  her  in  his  clutches,  and  she  was 
cruelly  put  to  the  rack  in  o»der  to  induce  her  to 
betray  the  court  ladies  who  had  helped  her  in 
prison.  She  pleaded  that  her  servant  had  only 
begged  money  for  her  from  the  City  apprentices. 

"  On  my  being  brought  to  trial  at  Guildhall,"  she 
says,  in  her  own  words,  "  they  said  to  me  there  that 
I  was  a  heretic,  and  condemned  by  the  law,  if  I 
would  stand  in  mine  opinion.  I  answered,  that  I 
was  no  heretic,  neither  yet  deserved  I  any  death 
by  the  law  of  God.  But  as  concerning  the  faith 
which  I  uttered  and  wrote  to  the  council,  I  would 
not  deny  it,  because  I  knew  it  true.     Then  would 


I  they  needs  know  if  I  would  deny  the  sacrament  to 
j  be  Christ's  body  and  blood.     I  said,  *  Yea ;  for  the 
I  same  Son  of  God  who  was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary 
j  is  now  glorious  in   heaven,  and  will  come  again 
I  from  thence  at  the  latter  day.     And  as  for  that  ye 
call  your  God,  it  is  a  piece  of  bread.     For  more 
proof  thereof,  mark  it  when  you  list ;  if  it  lie  in  the 
box  three  months  it  will  be  mouldy,  and  so  turn 
to  nothing  that  is  good.      Whereupon  I  am  per- 
suaded that  it  cannot  be  God.' 

"  After  that  they  willed  me  to  have  a  priest,  at 
which  I  smiled.  Then  they  asked  me  if  it  were 
not  good.  I  said  I  would  confess  my  faults  unto 
God,  for  I  was  sure  he  would  hear  me  with  favour. 
And  so  I  was  condemned.  And  this  was  the 
ground  of  my  sentence  :  my  belief,  which  I  wrote 
to  the  council,  that  the  sacramental  bread  was  left 
us  to  be  received  with  thanksgiving  in  remem- 
brance of  Christ's  death,  the  only  remedy  of  our 
souls'  recovery,  and  that  thereby  we  also  receive 
the  whole  benefits  and  fruits  of  his  most  glorious 
passion.  Then  would  they  know  whether  the  bread 
in  the  box  were  God  or  no.  I  said,  '  God  is  a 
Spirit,  and  will  be  worshipped  in  spirit  and  truth.' 
Then  they  demanded,  '  Will  you  plainly  deny  Christ 
to  be  in  the  sacrament  ? '  I  answered,  *  That 
I  believe  faithfully  the  eternal  Son  of  God  not 
to  dwell  there;'  in  witness  whereof  I  recited 
Daniel  iii.,  Acts  vii.  and  xvii.,  and  Matthew  xxiv., 
concluding  thus :  *  I  neither  wish  death  nor  yet 
fear  his  might ;  God  have  the  praise  thereof,  with 
thanks.' " 

Anne  Askew  was  burnt  at  Smithfield  with  three 
other  martyrs,  July  i6,  1546.  Bonner,  the  Chan- 
cellor Wriothesley,  and  many  nobles  were  present 
on  state  seats  near  St.  Bartholomew's  gate,  and 
their  only  anxiety  was  lest  the  gunpowder  hung  in 
bags  at  the  martyrs'  necks  should  injure  them  when 
it  exploded.  Shaxton,  the  ex-Bishop  of  Salisbury, 
who  had  saved  his  life  by  apostacy,  preached  a 
sermon  to  the  martyrs  before  the  flames  were  put 
to  the  fagots. 

In  1546  (towards  the  close  of  the  life  of 
Henry  VIII.),  the  Earl  of  Surrey  was  tried  for 
treason  at  the  Guildhall.  He  was  accused  of 
aiming  at  dethroning  the  king,  and  getting  the 
young  prince  into  his  hands ;  also  for  adding  the 
arms  of  Edward  the  Confessor  to  his  escutcheon. 
The  earl,  persecuted  by  the  Seymours,  says  Lord 
Herbert,  "was  of  a  deep  understanding,  sharp 
wit,  and  deep  courage,  defended  himself  many 
ways  —  sometimes  denying  their  accusations  as 
false,  and  together  weakening  the  credit  of  his 
adversaries ;  sometimes  interpreting  the  words  he 
said  in  a  far  other  sense  than  that  in  which  they 


Guildhall.] 


THE  TRIAL  OF  SIR  NICHOLAS  THROCKMORTON. 


395 


were  represented."  Nevertheless,  the  king  had 
vowed  the  destruction  of  the  family,  and  the  earl, 
found  guilty,  was  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill,  January 
19,  1547.  He  had  in  vain  offered  to  fight  his 
accuser,  Sir  Richard  Southwell,  in  his  shirt.  The 
order  for  the  execution  of  the  duke,  his  father, 
arrived  at  the  Tower  the  very  night  King  Henry 
died,  and  so  the  duke  escaped. 

Sir  Nicholas  Throckmorton,  another  Guildhall 
sufferer,  was  the  son  of  a  Papist  who  had  refused 
to  take  the  oath  of  supremacy,  and  had  been  im- 
prisoned in  the  Tower  by  Henry  VIII.  Nicholas, 
his  son,  a  Protestant,  appointed  sewer  to  the  burly 
tyrant,  had  fought  by  the  king's  side  in  France. 
During  the  reign  of  Edward  VI.  Throckmorton 
distinguished  himself  at  the  battle  of  Pinkie,  and 
was  knighted  by  the  young  king,  who  made  him 
under-treasurer  of  the  Mint.  At  Edward's  death 
Throckmorton  sent  Mary's  goldsmith  to  inform 
her  of  her  accession.  Though  no  doubt  firmly 
attached  to  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  Throckmorton 
took  no  public  part  in  the  Wyatt  rebellion  ;  yet,  six 
days  after  his  friend  Wyatt's  execution,  Throck- 
morton was  tried  for  conspiracy  to  kill  the  queen. 

The  trial  itself  is  so  interesting  as  a  specimen  .of 
intellectual  energy,  that  we  subjoin  a  scene  or 
two : — ■ 

Serjeant  Stamford :  Methinks  those  Ihings  which  others 
have  confessed,  together  with  your  own  confession,  will  weigh 
shrewdly.  But  what  have  you  to  say  as  to  the  rising  in 
Kent,  and  Wyatt's  attempt  against  the  Queen's  royal  person 
in  her  palace  ? 

Chief  Justice  Bromley:  Why  do  you  not  read  to  him 
Wyatt's  accusation,  which  makes  him  a  sharer  in  his  trea- 
sons? 

Sir  R.  Southwell :  Wyatt  has  grievously  accused  you,  and 
in  many  things  which  have  been  confirmed  by  others. 

Sir  N.  Throckmorton  :  Whatever  Wyatt  said  of  me,  in 
hopes  to  save  his  life,  he  unsaid  it  at  his  death  ;  for,  since  I 
came  into  the  hall,  I  heard  one  say,  whom  I  do  not  know, 
that  Wyatt  on  the  scaffold  cleared  not  only  the  Lady  Eliza- 
beth and  the  Earl  of  Devonshire,  but  also  all  the  gentlemen 
in  the  Tower,  saying  none  of  them  knew  anything  of  his 
commotion,  of  which  number  I  take  myself  to  be  one. 

Sir  N.  Hare :  Nevertheless,  he  said  that  all  he  had  written 
and  confessed  before  the  Council  was  true. 

Sir  JV.  Throckmorton  :  Nay,  sir,  by  your  patience,  Wyatt 
did  not  say  so  ;  that  was  Master  Doctor's  addition. 

Sir  R.  Soutlnvell :   It  seems  you  have  good  intelligence. 

Sir  JV.  Throckmorton :  Almighty  God  provided  this  re- 
velation for  me  this  very  day,  since  I  came  hither  ;  for  I  have 
been  in  close  prison  for  eight  and  fifty  days,  where  I  could 
hear  nothing  but  what  the  birds  told  me  who  flew  over  my 
head. 

Serjeant  Stamford  told  him  the  judges  did  not 
sit  there  to  make  disputations,  but  to  declare 
the  law ;  and  one  of  those  judges  (Hare)  having 
confirmed  the  observation,  by  telling  Throckmorton 
he  had  heard  both  the  law  and  the  reason,  if  he 


could  but  understand  it,  he  cried  out  passionately  : 
"  O  merciful  God  !  O  eternal  Father  !  who  seest 
all  things,  what  manner  of  proceedings  are  these  ? 
To  what  purpose  was  the  Statute  of  Repeal  made  in 
the  last  Parliament,  where  I  heard  some  of  you 
here  present,  and  several  others  of  the  Queen's 
learned  counsel,  grievously  inveigh  against  the 
cruel  and  bloody  laws  of  Henry  VIII.,  and  some 
laws  made  in  the  late  King's  time  ?  Some  termed 
them  Draco's  laws,  which  were  written  in  blood ; 
others  said  they  were  more  intolerable  than  any 
laws  made  by  Dionysius  or  any  other  tyrant.  In 
a  word,  as  many  men,  so  many  bitter  names  and 
terms  those  laws.  .  .  .  Let  us  now  but  look 
with  impartial  eyes,  and  consider  thoroughly  with 
ourselves,  whether,  as  you,  the  judges,  handle  the 
statute  of  Edward  HI.  with  your  equity  and  con- 
structions, we  are  not  now  in  a  much  worse  con- 
dition than  when  we  were  yoked  with  those  cruel 
laws.  Those  laws,  grievous  and  captious  as  they 
were,  yet  had  the  very  property  of  laws,  according 
to  St.  Paul's  description,  for  they  admonished  us, 
and  discovered  our  sins  plainly  to  us,  and  when  a 
man  is  warned  he  is  half  armed ;  but  these  laws,  as 
they  are  handled,  are  very  baits  to  catch  us,  and 
only  prepared  for  that  purpose.  They  are  no  laws 
at  all,  for  at  first  sight  they  assure  us  that  we  are 
delivered  from  our  old  bondage,  and  live  in  more 
security ;  but  when  it  pleases  the  higher  powers 
to  call  any  man's  life  and  sayings  in  question, 
then  there  are  such  constructions,  interpretations, 
and  extensions  reserved  to  the  judges  and  their 
equity,  that  the  party  tried,  as  I  am  now,  will  find 
himself  in  a  much  worse  case  than  when  those 
cruel  laws  were  in  force.  But  I  require  you,  honest 
men,  who  are  to  try  my  life,  to  consider  these 
things.  It  is  clear  these  judges  are  inclined  rather 
to  the  times  than  to  the  truth,  for  their  judgments 
are  repugnant  to  the  law,  repugnant  to  their  own 
principles,  and  repugnant  to  the  opinions  of  their 
godly  and  learned  predecessors." 

We  rejoice  to  say  that,  in  spite  of  all  the  efforts 
of  his  enemies,  this  gentleman  escaped  the  scaffold, 
and  lived  to  enjoy  happier  times. 

Lastly,  we  come  to  one  of  the  Gunpowder  Plot 
conspirators  j  not  one  of  the  most  guilty,  yet  un- 
doubtedly cognisant  of  the  mischief  brewing. 

On  the  28th  of  March,  1606,  Garnet,  the 
Superior  of  the  English  Jesuits  (whose  cruel  execu- 
tion in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard  we  have  already  de- 
scribed), was  tried  at  the  Guildhall,  and  found 
guilty  ©f  having  taken  part  in  organising  the  Gun- 
powder Plot.  He  was  found  concealed  at  Hendlip, 
the  mansion  of  a  Roman  Catholic  gentleman,  near 
Worcester. 


396 


OLD   AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Mayors  of  London. 


THE   NEW   LIBRARY,    GUILDHALL   {see  page  392). 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 


THE    LORD    MAYORS     OF    LONDON. 

The  First  Mayor  of  London— Portrait  of  him— Presentation  to  the  King— An  Outspoken  May«r— Sir  N.  Farindon— Sir  William  Walworth— Origin 
of  the  prsiix  "  Lord  "—Sir  Richard  Whittington  and  his  Liberality— Institutions  founded  by  him— Sir  Simon  Eyre  and  his  Table— A 
Musical  Lord  Mayor— Henry  VIII.  and  Gresham— Loyalty  of  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Citizens  to  Queen  Mary— Osborne's  Leap  into  the 
Thames— Sir  W.  Craven— Brass  Crosby— His  Committal  to  the  Tower— A  Victory  for  the  Citizens. 


The  modern  Lord  Mayor  is  supposed  to  have 
had  a  prototype  in  the  Roman  prefect  and  the 
Saxon  portgrave.  The  Lord  Mayor  is  only  "Lord" 
and  "Right  Honourable"  by  courtesy,  and  not 
from  his  dignity  as  a  Privy  Councillor  on  the 
demise  or  abdication  of  a  sovereign. 


In  1 189,  Richard  I.  elected  Henry  Fitz  Ailwyn, 
a  draper  of  London,  to  be  first  mayor  of  London, 
and  he  served  twenty-four  years.  He  is  supposed 
to  have  been  a  descendant  of  Aylwyn  Child,  who 
founded  the  priory  at  Bermondsey  in  1082.  He 
was    buried,    according  to    Strype,    at    St.    Mary 


M-iyors  of  London] 


THE    LORD    MAYORS    AND    THE    CROWN. 


397 


Bothaw,  Walbrook,  a  church  destroyed  in  the  Great 
Fire  ;  but  according  to  Stow,  in  the  Holy  Trinity 
Priory,  Aldgate.  There  is  a  doubtful  half-length 
oil-portrait  or  panel  of  the  venerable  Fitz  Alwyn 
over  the  master's  chair  in  Drapers'  Hall,  but  it  has 
no  historical  value.     But  the  first  formal  mayor  was 


the  London  mayors.  For  instance,  in  1240,  Gerard 
Bat,  chosen  a  second  time,  went  to  Woodstock 
Palace  to  be  presented  to  King  Henry  HL,  who 
refused  to  appoint  him  till  he  (the  king)  came  to 
London. 

Henry  HL,  indeed,  seems  to  have  been  chroni 


SIR  RTCirARD  WIITTTTXGTON.     [From  nil  old  Portrait.) 


Richard  Renger  {1223),  King  John  granting  the 
right  of  choosing  a  mayor  to  the  citizens,  provided 
he  was  first  presented  to  the  king  or  his  justice  for 
approval.  Henry  HL  afterwards  allowed  the  pre- 
sentation to  take  place  in  the  king's  absence  before 
the  Barons  of  the  Exchequer  at  Westminster,  to 
prevent  expense  and  delay,  as  the  citizens  could 
not  be  expected  to  search  for  the  king  all  over 
England  and  France. 

The  presentation  to  the  king,  even  when  he  was 
in  England,  long  remained  a  great  vexation  with 
34 


cally  troubled  by  the  London  mayors,  for  in  1264, 
on  the  mayor  and  aldermen  doing  fealty  to  the 
king  in  St.  Paul's,  the  mayor,  with  blunt  honesty, 
dared  to  say  to  the  weak  monarch,  "  My  lord,  so 
long  as  you  unto  us  will  be  a  good  lord  and  king, 
we  Avill  be  faithful  and  duteous  unto  you." 

These  were  bold  words  in  a  reign  when  the  head- 
ing block  was  always  kept  ready  near  a  throne. 
In  1265,  the  same  monarch  seized  and  imprisoned 
the  mayor  and  chief  aldermen  for  fortifying  the 
City  in  favour  of  the  barons,  and  for  four  years  the 


39^ 


OLD    AND    NEW   LONDON. 


[Mayors  of  London. 


tyrannical  king  appointed  custodes.  The  City 
again  recovered  its  liberties  and  retained  them 
till  1285  (Edward  I.),  when  Sir  Gregory  Rokesley 
refusing  to  go  out  of  the  City  to  appear  before  the 
king's  justices  at  the  Tower,  the  mayoralty  was  again 
suspended  and  custodes  appointed  till  the  year 
1298,  when  Henry  Wallein  was  elected  mayor. 
Edward  II.  also  held  a  tight  hand  on  the  mayoralty 
till  he  appointed  the  great  goldsmith,  Sir  Nicholas 
Farindon,  mayor  "  as  long  as  it  pleased  him." 
Farindon  gave  the  title  to  Farringdon  Ward,  which 
had  been  in  his  family  eighty-two  years,  the  con- 
sideration being  twenty  marks  as  a  fine,  and  one 
clove  or  a  slip  of  gillyflower  at  the  feast  of  Easter. 
He  was  a  warden  of  the  Goldsmiths,  and  was 
buried  at  St.  Peter-le-Chepe,  a  church  that  before 
the  Great  Fire  stood  where  the  plane-tree  now 
waves  at  the  comer  of  Wood  Street.  He  left 
money  for  a  light  to  burn  before  our  Lady  the 
Virgin  in  St.  Peter-le-Chepe  for  ever. 

The  mayoralty  of  Andrew  Aubrey,  Grocer  (1339), 
was  rather  warlike ;  for  the  mayor  and  two  of  his 
officers  being  assaulted  in  a  tumult,  two  of  the 
ringleaders  were  beheaded  at  once  in  Chepe.  In 
1356,  Henry  Picard,  mayor  of  London,  was  an 
honoured  man,  for  he  had  the  glory  of  feasting 
Edward  III.  of  England,  the  Black  Prince,  John 
King  of  Austria,  the  King  of  Cyprus,  and  David  of 
Scotland,  and  afterAvards  opened  his  hall  to  all 
comers  at  cards  and  dice,  his  wife  inviting  the 
court  ladies. 

Sir  William  Walworth,  a  fishmonger,  who  was 
mayor  in  1374  (Edward  III.)  and  1380  (Richard 
II.),  was  that  prompt  and  choleric  man  who  some- 
what basely  slew  the  Kentish  rebel,  Wat  Tyler, 
when  he  was  invited  to  a  parley  by  the  young  king. 
It  was  long  supposed  that  the  dagger  in  the  City 
arms  was  added  in  commemoration  of  this  foul 
blow,  but  Stow  has  clearly  sho^vn  that  it  was  in- 
tended to  represent  the  sword  of  St.  Paul,  the 
patron  saint  of  the  Corporation  of  London.  The 
manor  of  Walworth  belonged  to  the  family  of 
this  mayor,  who  was  buried  in  the  Church  of  St. 
Michael,  Crooked  Lane,  the  parish  where  he  had 
resided.  Some  antiquaries,  says  Mr.  Timbs,  think 
the  prefix  of  "Lord"  is  traceable  to  1378  (ist 
Richard  II.),  when  there  was  a  general  assessment 
for  a  war  subsidy.  The  question  was  where  was 
the  mayor  to  corhe.  "  Have  him  among  the  earls," 
was  the  suggestion  ;  so  the  right  worshipful  had  to 
pay  j^4,  about  ;^ioo  of  our  present  money. 

And  now  we  come  to  a  mayor  greater  even  in 
City  story  and  legend  than  even  Walworth  himself, 
even  the  renowned  Richard  Whittington,  the  hero 
of  our  nursery  days.     He  was  the  son  of  a  Glouces- 


tershire knight,  who  had  fallen  into  poverty.      The 
industrious  son,  born  in  1350  (Edward  III.),  on 
coming  to  London,  was  apprenticed  to  Hugh  Fitz- 
warren,  a  mercer.    Disgusted  with  the  drudgery,  he 
ran  away  3  but  while  resting  by  a  stone  cross  at  the 
foot  of  Highgate  Hill,  he  is  said  to  have  heard  in  the 
sound  of  Bow  Bells  the  voice  of  his  good  angel, 
"  Turn  again,  Whittington,   thrice  Lord  Mayor  of 
London."     What  a  charm  there  is  still  in  the  old 
story !     As  for  the  cat  that  made  his  fortune  by 
catching  all  the  mice  in  Barbary,  we  fear  we  must 
throw  him   overboard,  even  though  Stow  tells   a 
true  story  of  a  man  and  a  cat  that  greatly  resembles 
that  told  of  Whittington.     Whittington  married  his 
master's  daughter,  and  became  a  wealthy  merchant. 
He  supplied  the  wedding  trousseau  of  the  Princess 
Blanche,  eldest  daughter  of  Henry  IV.,  when  she 
married  the  son  of  the  King  of  the  Romans,  and 
also  the  pearls  and  cloth  of  gold  for  the  marriage 
of  the  Princess  Philippa.     He  became  the  court 
banker,  and  lent  large  sums  of  money  to  our  lavish 
monarchs,    especially  to  the  chivalrous  Henry  V. 
for    carrying   on    the    siege    of   Harfleur,  a  siege 
celebrated  by  Shakespeare.        It   is  said  that   in 
his   last   mayoralty   King   Henry  V.    and   Queen 
Catherine  dined  with  him  in  the  City,  when  Whit- 
tington  caused  a  fire  to  be   lighted   of  precious 
woods,  mixed  with   cinnamon   and   other   spices ; 
and  then  taking  all  the  bonds  given  him  by  the 
king  for  money  lent,  amounting  to  no  less  than 
;!^6o,ooo,  he  threw  them  into  the  fire  and  burnt 
them,  thereby  freeing  his  sovereign  from  his  debts. 
The   king,  astonished  at   such  a  proceeding,  ex- 
claimed, "Surely,  never  had  king  such  a  subject;" 
to  which  Whittington,  with  court  gallantry,  replied, 
"  Surely,  sire,  never  had  subject  such  a  king." 

Whittington  was  really  four  times  mayor — twice 
in  Richard  II.'s  reign,  once  in  that  of  Henry  IV., 
and  once  in  that  of  Henry  V.  As  a  mayor  Whit- 
tington was  popular,  and  his  justice  and  patriotism 
became  proverbial.  He  vigorously  opposed  the 
admission  of  foreigners  into  the  freedom  of  the 
City,  and  he  fined  the  Brewers'  Company  ;^2o  for 
selling  bad  ale  and  forestalling  the  market.  His 
generosity  was  like  a  well-spring  ;  and  being  child- 
less, he  spent  his  life  in  deeds  of  charity  and 
generosity.  He  erected  conduits  at  Cripplegate 
and  Billingsgate  ;  he  founded  a  library  at  the  Grey 
Friars'  Monastery  in  Newgate  Street  (now  Christ's 
Hospital) ;  he  procured  the  completion  of  the 
"  Liber  Albus,"  a  book  of  City  customs ;  and  he 
gave  largely  towards  the  Guildhall  library.  He 
paved  the  Guildhall,  restored  the  hospital  of  St. 
Bartholomew,  and  by  his  will  left  money  to  rebuild 
Newgate,  and  erect  almshouses  on  College  Hill 


Mayors  of  London.5 


CELEBRATED   LORD   MAYORS. 


399 


(now  removed  to  Highgate)  He  died  in  1427 
(Henry  VI.).  Nor  should  we  forget  that  Whit- 
tington  was  also  a  great  architect,  and  enlarged 
the  nave  of  Westminster  Abbey  for  his  knightly 
master,  Henry  V.  This  large-minded  and  muni- 
ficent man  resided  in  a  grand  mansion  in  Hart 
Street,  up  a  gateway  a  few  doors  from  Mark  Lane. 
A  very  curious  old  house  in  Sweedon's  Passage, 
Grub  Street,  with  an  external  winding  staircase, 
used  to  be  pointed  out  as  Whittington's ;  and  the 
splendid  old  mansion  in  Hart  Street,  Crutched 
Friars,  pulled  down  in  186 1,  and  replaced  by  offices 
and  warehouses,  was  said  to  have  cats'-heads  for 
knockers,  and  cats'-heads  (whose  eyes  seemed 
always  turned  on  you)  carved  in  the  ceilings.  The 
doorways,  and  the  brackets  of  the  long  lines  of 
projecting  Tudor  windows,  were  beautifully  carved 
with  grotesque  figures. 

In  1 41 8  (Henry  V.)  Sir  William  de  Sevenoke 
was  mayor.  This  rich  merchant  had  risen  to  the 
top  of  the  tree  by  cleverness  and  diligence  equal 
to  that  of  Whittington,  but  we  hear  less  of  his 
charity.  He  was  a  foundling,  brought  up  by 
charitable  persons,  and  apprenticed  to  a  grocer. 
He  was  knighted  by  Henry  VI.,  and  represented 
the  City  in  Parliament.  Dying  in  1432,  he  was 
buried  at  St.  Martin's,  Ludgate. 

In  1426  (Henry  VI.)  Sir  John  Rainewell,  mayor, 
with  a  praiseworthy  disgust  at  all  dishonesty  in 
trade,  detecting  Lombard  merchants  adulterating 
their  wines,  ordered  150  butts  to  be  stove  in  and 
swilled  down  the  kennels.  How  he  might  wash 
down  London  now  with  cheap  sherry  ! 

In  1445  (Henry  VI.),  Sir  Simon  Ejn-e.  This 
very  worthy  mayor  left  3,000  marks  to  the  Com- 
pany of  Drapers,  for  prayers  to  be  read  to  the 
market  people  by  a  priest  in  the  chapel  at  Guild- 
hall. 

It  is  related  that  when  it  was  proposed  to  Eyre 
at  Guildhall  that  he  should  stand  for  sheriff,  he 
would  fain  have  excused  himself,  as  he  did  not 
think  his  income  was  sufficient ;  but  he  was  soon 
silenced  by  one  of  the  aldermen  observing  "  that 
no  citizen  could  be  more  capable  than  the  man 
who  had  openly  asserted  that  he  broke  his  fast 
every  day  on  a  table  for  which  he  would  not  take 
a  thousand  pounds."  This  assertion  excited  the 
curiosity  of  the  then  Lord  Mayor  and  all  present, 
in  consequence  of  which  his  lordship  and  two  of  the 
aldermen,  having  invited  themselves,  accompanied 
him  home  to  dinner.  On  their  arrival  Mr.  Eyre 
desired  his  wife  to  "  prepare  the  little  table,  and 
set  some  refreshment  before  the  guests."  This 
she  would  fain  have  refused,  but  finding  he  would 
take  no  excuse,  she  seated  herself  on  a  low  stool, 


and,  spreading  a  damask  napkin  over  her  lap,  with 
a  venison  pasty  thereon,  Simon  exclaimed  to  the 
astonished  mayor  and  his  brethren,  "  Behold 
the  table  which  I  would  not  take  a  thousand 
pounds  for ! "  Soon  after  this  Sir  Simon  was 
chosen  Lord  Mayor,  on  which  occasion,  remem- 
bering his  former  promise  "at  the  conduit,"  he, 
on  the  following  Shrove  Tuesday,  gave  a  pancake 
feast  to  all  the  'prentices  in  London ;  on  which 
occasion  they  went  in  procession  to  the  Mansion 
House,  where  they  met  with  a  cordial  reception 
from  Sir  Simon  and  his  lady,  who  did  the  honours 
of  the  table  on  this  memorable  day,  allowing  their 
guests  to  want  for  neither  ale  nor  wine. 

In  1453  Sir  John  Norman  was  the  first  mayor 
who  rowed  to  Westminster.  The  mayors  had 
hitherto  generally  accompanied  the  presentation 
show  on  horseback.  The  Thames  watermen,  de- 
lighted with  the  innovation  so  profitable  to  them, 
wrote  a  song  in  praise  of  Norman,  two  lines  of  which 
are  quoted  by  Fabyan  in  his  "  Chronicles ;"  and 
Dr.  Rimbault,  an  eminent  musical  antiquary,  thinks 
he  has  found  the  original  tune  in  John  Hilton's 
"Catch  That,  Catch  Can"  (1658). 

The  deeds  of  Sir  Stephen  Forster,  Fishmonger, 
and  mayor  1454  (Henry  VI.),  who  by  his  will 
left  money  to  rebuild  Newgate,  we  have  men- 
tioned elsewhere  (p.  224).  Sir  Godfrey  Boleine, 
Lord  Mayor,  1457  (Henry  VI.),  was  grandfather 
to  Thomas,  Earl  of  Wiltshire,  the  grandfather  of 
Queen  EHzabeth.  He  was  a  mercer  in  the  Old 
Jewiy,  and  left  by  his  will  ^1,000  to  the  poor 
householders  of  London,  and  ^,^2,000  to  the  poor 
householders  in  Norfolk  (his  native  county),  be- 
sides large  legacies  to  the  London  prisons,  lazar- 
houses,  and  hospitals.  Such  were  the  citizens, 
from  whom  half  our  aristocracy  has  sprung.  Sir 
Godfrey  Fielding,  a  mercer  in  Milk  Street,  Lord 
Mayor  in  1452  (Henry  VI.),  was  the  ancestor  of 
the  Earls  of  Denbigh,  and  a  privy  councillor  of 
the  king. 

In  Edward  IV. 's  reign,  when  the  Lancastrians, 
under  the  bastard  Falconbridge,  stormed  the  City 
in  two  places,  but  were  eventually  bravely  repulsed 
by  the  citizens,  Edward,  in  gratitude,  knighted 
the  mayor,  Sir  John  Stockton,  and  twelve  of  the 
aldermen.  In  1479  (the  same  reign)  Bartho- 
lomew James  (Draper)  had  Sheriff  Bayfield  fined 
^^50  (about  ;^i,ooo  of  our  money)  for  kneeUng 
too  close  to  him  while  at  prayers  in  St.  Paul's,  and 
for  reviling  him  when  complained  of.  There  was  a 
pestilence  raging  at  the  time,  and  the  mayor  was 
afraid  of  contagion.  The  money  went,  we  presume, 
to  build  ten  City  conduits,  then  much  wanted.  The 
Lord  Mayor  in  1462,  Sir  Thomas  Coke  (Draper), 


400 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Mayors  of  London. 


ancestor  of  Lord  Bacon,  Earl  Fitz\viUiam,  the 
Marquis  of  Salisbury,  and  Viscount  Cranboume. 
being  a  Lancastrian,  suffered  much  from  the  rapa- 
cious tyranny  of  Edward  IV.  The  very  year  he  was 
made  Knight  of  the  Bath,  Coke  was  sent  to  the 
Bread  Street  Compter,  afterwards  to  the  Bench, 
and  illegally  fined  ;^8,ooo  to  the  king  and  ;^8oo 
to  the  queen.  Two  aldermen  also  had  their  goods 
seized,  and  were  fined  4,000  marks.  In  1473  this 
greedy  king  sent  to  Sir  William  Hampton,  Lord 
Mayor,  to  extort  benevolences,  or  subsidies.  The 
mayor  gave  ^30,  the  aldennen  twenty  marks,  the 
poorer  persons  ;!^io  each.  In  1481,  King  Edward 
sent  the  mayor,  William  Herriot  (Draper),  for  the 
good  he  had  done  to  trade,  two  harts,  six  bucks, 
and  a  tun  of  wine,  for  a  banquet  to  the  lady 
mayoress  and  the  aldermen's  wives  at  Drapers'  Hall. 

At  Richard  III.'s  coronation  (1483),  the  Lord 
Mayor,  Sir  Richard  Shaw,  attended  as  cup-bearer 
with  great  pomp,  and  the  mayor's  claim  to  this 
honour  was  formally  allowed  and  put  on  record. 
Shaw  was  a  goldsmith,  and  supplied  the  usurper 
with  most  of  his  plate.  Sir  Walter  Horn,  Lord 
Mayor  in  1487,  had  been  knighted  on  Bosworth 
field  by  Henry  VII.,  for  whom  he  fought  against 
the  "  ravening  Richard."  This  mayor's  real  name 
was  Littlesbury  (we  are  told),  but  Edward  IV.  had 
nicknamed  him  Horn,  from  his  peculiar  skill  on 
that  instnnnent.  The  year  Henry  VII.  landed  at 
Milford  Haven  two  London  mayors  died.  In 
i486  (Henry  VII.),  Sir  Henry  Colet,  father  of  good 
Dean  Colet,  who  founded  St.  Paul's  School,  was 
mayor. 

Colet  chose  John  Percival  (Merchant  Taylor),  his 
carver,  sheriff,  by  drinking  to  him  in  a  cup  of  wine, 
according  to  custom,  and  Perceval  forthwith  sat 
down  at  the  mayor's  table.  Percival  was  after- 
wards mayor  in  1498.  Henry  VII.  was  remorse- 
less in  squeezing  money  out  of  the  City  by  every 
sort  of  expedient.  He  fined  Alderman  Capel 
;^2,7oo ;  he  made  the  City  buy  a  confinnation 
of  their  charter  for  ;^5,ooo;  in  1500  he  threw 
Thomas  Knesworth,  who  had  been  mayor  the 
year  before,  and  his  sheriff,  into  the  Marshalsea, 
and  fined  them  ;^i,4oo ;  and  the  year  after,  he 
imprisoned  Sir  Lawrence  Aylmer,  mayor  in  the 
previous  year,  and  extorted  money  from  him.  He 
again  amerced  Alderman  Capel  (ancestor  of  the 
Earls  of  Essex)  ;^2,ooo,  and  on  his  bold  resistance, 
threw  him  into  the  Tower  for  life.  In  1490 
(Henry  VII.)  John  Matthew  earned  the  distinction 
of  being  the  first,  but  probably  not  the  last, 
bachelor  Lord  Mayor;  and  a  cheerless  mayoralty 
it  must  have  been.  In  1502  Sir  John  Shaw  held 
the  Lord    Mayor's    feast  for  the  first  time  in  the 


Guildhall]  and  the  same  hospitable  mayor  built 
the  Guildhall  kitchen  at  his  own  expense. 

Henry  VIII.'s  mayors  were  worshipful  men,  and 
men  of  renown.     To  Walworth  and  Whittington 
was   now   to   be   added   the   illustrious    name  of 
Gresham.     Sir  Richard  Gresham,  who  was  mayor 
in  the  year  1537,  was  the  father  of  the  illustrious 
founder  of  the    Royal   Exchange.     He  was  of  a 
Norfolk  family,  and  with  his  three  brothers  carried 
on  trade  as  mercers.     He  became   a  Gentleman 
Usher  Extraordinary  to  Henry  VIIL,  and  at.  the 
tearing    to    pieces   of    the    monasteries    by    that 
monarch,  he  obtained,  by  judicious  courtliness,  no 
less  than  five  successive  grants  of  Church  lands. 
He  advocated  the  construction  of  an  Exchange, 
encouraged  freedom  of  trade,  and  is  said  to  have 
invented    bills   of    exchange.      In    1525    he   was 
nearly  expelled  the  Common  Council  for  trying,  at 
Wolsey's  instigation,  to  obtain  a  benevolence  from 
the   citizens.      It   is   greatly   to   Gresham's  credit 
that  he  helped  Wolsey  after  his  fall,  and  Henry, 
who  with  all   his   faults  was  magnanimous,  liked 
Gresham  none  the  worse  for  that.     In  the  interest- 
ing  "  Paxton    Letters "    (Henry    VI.),   there    are 
eleven   letters  of  one   of  Gresham's  Norfolk   an- 
cestors, dated  from  London,  and  the  seal  a  grass- 
hopper.    Sir  Richard  Gresham  died  1548  (Edward 
VI.),  at  Bethnal   Green,  and  was   buried   in  the 
church  of  St.  Lawrence  Jewry.    Gresham's  daughter 
married  an  ancestor  of  the  Marquis  of  Bath,  and  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham  and  Lord  Braybrooke  are  said 
to  be  descendants  of  his  brother  John,  so  much  has 
good    City   blood    enriched   our    proud    Norman 
aristocracy,  and  so  often  has  the  full  City  purse 
gone  to  fill  again  the  exhausted  treasury  of  the 
old  knighthood.    In  1545,  Sir  Martin  Bowes  (Gold- 
smith) was  mayor,  and  lent  Henry  VIIL,  whose 
purse   was  a  cullender,  the  sum  of  ;^3oo.      Sir 
Martin  was  butler  at  Elizabeth's  coronation,  and 
left  the  Goldsmiths'  Company  his  gold  fee  cup,  out 
of  which  the  Queen  drank.     In  our  history  of  the 
Goldsmiths'    Company    we    have    mentioned    his 
portrait  in  Goldsmiths'  Hall.     Alderman  William 
Fitzwilliam,  in  this  reign,  also  nobly  stood  by  his 
patron,  Wolsey,  after  his  fall ;  for  which  the  King, 
saying  he  had  too  few  such  servants,  knighted  him 
and  made  him  a  Privy  Councillor.     When  he  died, 
in  the  year  1542,  he  was   Knight  of  the  Garter, 
Lord  Keeper  of  the  Privy  Seal,  and  Chancellor  of 
the  Duchy  of  Lancaster.    He  left  ;^ioo  to  dower 
poor  maidens,  and  his  best  "standing  cup"  to  his 
brethren,  the  Merchant  Taylors.    In  1536  the  King 
invited  the  Lord  Mayor,  Sir  Raphe  Warren  (an 
ancestor  of  Cromwell   and   Hampden,    says   Mr. 
Orridge),  the   aldermen,   and   forty   of  the   prin- 


I 


Mayors  of  London.] 


^GENEROUS  LORD   MAYORS. 


401 


cipal  citizens,  to  the  christening  of  the  Princess 
Ehzabeth,  at  Greenwich ;  and  at  the  ceremony  the 
scarlet  gowns  and  gold  chains  made  a  gallant  show. 

In  Edward  VI.'s  reign,  the  Greshams  again 
came  to  the  front.  In  1547,  Sir  John  Gresham, 
brother  of  the  Sir  Richard  before  mentioned,  ob- 
tained from  Henry  VIII.  the  hospital  of  St,  Mary 
Bethlehem  as  an  asylum  for  lunatics. 

In  this  reign  the  City  Corporation  lands  (as 
being  given  by  Papists  for  superstitious  uses)  were 
all  claimed  for  the  King's  use,  to  the  amount  of 
;^i,ooo  per  annum.  The  London  Corporation, 
unable  to  resist  this  tyranny,  had  to  retrieve  them 
at  the  rate  of  twenty  years'  purchase.  Sir  Andrew 
Judd  (Skinner),  mayor  in  1550,  was  ancestor  of 
Lord  Teynham,  Viscount  Strangford,  Chief  Baron 
Smythe,  &c.  Among  the  bequests  in  his  will 
were  "  the  sandhills  at  the  back  side  of  Holborn," 
then  let  for  a  few  pounds  a  year,  now  worth  nearly 
p^2o,ooo  per  annum.  In  1553,  Sir  Thomas  White 
(Merchant  Taylor)  kept  the  citizens  loyal  to  Queen 
Mary  during  Wyatt's  rebellion,  the  brave  Queen 
coming  to  Guildhall  and  personally  re-assuring  the 
citizens.  White  was  the  son  of  a  poor  clothier; 
at  the  age  of  twelve  he  was  apprenticed  to  a 
London  tailor,  who  left  him  ^100  to  begin  the 
world  with,  and  by  thrift  and  industry  he  rose  to 
wealth.  He  was  the  generous  founder  of  St.  John's 
College,  Oxford.  According  to  Webster,  the  poet, 
he  had  been  directed  in  a  dream  to  found  a  college 
upon  a  spot  where  he  should  find  two  bodies  of  an 
elm  springing  from  one  root.  Discovering  no  such 
tree  at  Cambridge,  he  went  to  Oxford,  and  finding 
a  likely  tree  in  Gloucester  Hall  garden,  began  at 
once  to  enlarge  and  widen  that  college ;  but  soon 
after  he  found  the  real  tree  of  his  dream,  outside 
the  north  gate  of  Oxford,  and  on  that  spot  he 
founded  St.  John's  College. 

In  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  many  great-hearted 
citizens  served  the  ofiice  of  mayor.  Again  we 
shall  see  how  little  even  the  best  monarchs  of  these 
days  understood  the  word  "  liberty,"  and  how  the 
constant  attacks  upon  their  purses  taught  the 
London  citizens  to  appreciate  and  to  defend  their 
rights.  In  1559,  Sir  William  Hewet  (Clothworker) 
was  mayor,  whose  income  is  estimated  at  ^6,000 
per  annum.  Hewet  lived  on  London  Bridge,  and 
one  day  a  nurse  playing  with  his  little  daughter 
Anne,  at  one  of  the  broad  lattice  windows  over- 
looking the  Thames,  by  accident  let  the  child  fall. 
A  young  apprentice,  named  Osborne,  seeing  the 
accident,  leaped  from  a  window  into  the  fierce 
current  below  the  arches,  and  saved  the  infant. 
Years  after,  many  great  courtiers,  including  the 
Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  came  courting  fair  Mistress 


Anne,  the  rich  citizen's  heiress.  Sir  William,  her 
father,  said  to  one  and  all,  "  No ;  Osborne  saved 
her,  and  Osborne  shall  have  her.'-'  And  so  Osborne 
did,  and  became  a  rich  citizen  and  Lord  Mayor  in 
1583.  He  is  the  direct  ancestor  of  the  first  Duke 
of  Leeds.  There  is  a  portrait  of  the  brave  appren- 
tice at  Kiveton  House,  in  Yorkshire.  He  dwelt  in 
Philpot  Lane,  in  his  father-in-law's  house,  and  was 
buried  at  St.  Dionis  Backchurch,  Fenchurch  Street. 

In  1563  Lord  Mayor  Lodge  got  into  a  terrible 
scrape  with  Queen  Elizabeth,  who  brooked  no  oppo- 
sition, just  or  unjust.  One  of  the  Queen's  insolent 
purveyors,  to  insult  the  mayor,  seized  twelve  capons 
out  of  twenty-four  destined  for  the  mayor's  table. 
The  indignant  mayor  took  six  of  the  twelve  fowls, 
called  the  purveyor  a  scurvy  knave,  and  threatened 
him  with  the  biggest  pair  of  irons  in  Newgate. 
In  spite  of  the  intercession  of  Lord  Robert  Dudley 
(Leicester)  and  Secretary  Cecil,  Lodge  was  fined 
and  compelled  to  resign  his  gown.  Lodge  vas 
the  father  of  the  poet,  and  engaged  in  the  negro 
trade.  Lodge's  successor.  Sir  Thomas  Ramsay, 
died  childless,  and  his  widow  left  large  sums  to 
Christ's  Hospital  and  other  charities,  and  ;^i,2oo 
to  each  of  five  City  Companies ;  also  sums  for  the 
relief  of  poor  maimed  soldiers,  poor  Cambridge 
scholars,  and  for  poor  maids'  marriages. 

Sir  Rowland  Heyward  (Clothworker),  mayor  in 
1570.  He  was  an  ancestor  of  the  Marquis  of 
Bath,  and  the  father  of  sixteen  children,  all  of  whom 
are  displayed  on  his  monument  in  St.  Alphege, 
London  Wall. 

Sir  Wolston  Dixie,  1585  (Skinner)  was  the 
first  mayor  whose  pageant  was  published.  It  forms 
the  first  chapter  of  the  many  volumes  relating  to 
pageants  collected  by  that  eminent  antiquary,  the 
late  Mr.  Fairholt,  and  bequeathed  by  him  to  the 
Society  of  Antiquaries.  Dixie  assisted  in  build- 
ing Peterhouse  College,  Cambridge.  In  1594,  Sir 
John  Spencer  (Clothworker) — "  rich  Spencer,"  as  he 
was  called — kept  his  mayoralty  at  Crosby  Place, 
Bishopsgate.  His  only  daughter  married  Lord 
Compton,  who,  tradition  says,  smuggled  her  away 
from  her  father's  house  in  a  large  flap-topped 
baker's  basket.  A  curious  letter  from  this  impe- 
rious lady  is  extant,  in  which  she  only  requests  an 
annuity  of  ;^2,2oo,  a  like  sum  for  her  privy  purse, 
;^io,ooo  for  jewels,  her  debts  to  be  paid,  horses, 
coach,  and  female  attendants,  and  closes  by  pray- 
ing her  husband,  when  he  becomes  an  earl,  to  allow 
her  ;!^i,ooo  more  with  double  attendance.  These 
young  citizen  ladies  were  somewhat  exacting.  From 
this  lady's  husband  the  Marquis  of  Northampton  is 
descended.  At  the  funeral  of  "  rich  Spencer,"  1,000 
persons  followed  in  mourning  cloaks  and  gowns. 


402 


OLD   AND    NEW   LONDON. 


[Mayors  of  London. 


He  died  wortli,  Mr.  Timbs  calculates,  above 
;^8oo,ooo  in  the  year  of  his  mayoralty.  There 
was  a  famine  in  England  in  his  time,  and  at  his 
persuasion  the  City  Companies  bought  corn  abroad, 
and  stored  it  in  the  Bridge  House  for  the  poor. 
In  1609,  Sir  Thomas  Campbell   (Ironmonger), 


Craven  took  horse  and  galloped  westward  till  he 
reached  a  lonely  farmhouse  on  the  Berkshire  downs, 
and  there  built  Ashdown  House.  The  local  legend 
is  that  four  avenues  led  to  the  house  from  the  four 
points  of  the  compass,  and  that  in  each  of  the  four 
walls  there  was  a  window,  so  that  if  the  plague  got 


wuittington's  almshouses,  college  hill  [see  fa^c  398). 


mayor,  the  City  show  was  revived  by  the  king's 
order.  In  161 1,  Sir  William  Craven  (Draper)  was 
mayor.  As  a  poor  Yorkshire  boy  from  Wharfe- 
dale,  he  came  up  to  London  in  a  carrier's  cart  to 
seek  his  fortune.  He  was  the  father  of  that  brave 
soldier  of  Gustavus  Adolphus  who  is  supposed 
to  have  privately  married  the  widowed  Queen  of 
Bohemia,  James  I.'s  daughter.  There  is  a  tradition 
that  during  an  outbreak  of  the  plague  in  London, 


in  at  one  side  it  might  go  out  at  the  other.  In 
16 1 2,  Sir  John  Swinnerton  (Merchant  Taylor), 
mayor,  entertained  the  Count  Palatine,  who  had 
come  over  to  marry  King  James's  daughter.  The 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  the  Bishop  of  London, 
and  many  earls  and  barons  were  present.  The  Lord 
Mayor  and  his  brethren  presented  the  Palsgrave 
with  a  large  basin  and  CAver,  weighing  234  ounces, 
and  two  great  gilt  loving  pots.     The  bridegroom 


Mayors  of  London.] 


A  LORD   MAYOR'S  GIFT. 


OSBORNE'S    LEAP    (sen  page  43:;. 


404 


OLD   AND    NEW   LONDON. 


[Mayors  of  London. 


elect  gained  great  popularity  by  saluting  the  Lady 
Mayoress  and  her  train.  The  pageant  was  uTitten 
by  the  poet  Dekker.  In  this  reign  King  James, 
colonising  Ulster  with  Protestants,  granted  the  pro- 
vince with  Londonderry  and  Coleraine  to  the  Cor- 
poration, the  twelve  great  and  old  Companies  taking 
many  of  the  best.  In  1613,  Sir  Thomas  Middleton 
(Goldsmith),  Basinghall  Street,  brother  of  Sir  Hugh 
Middleton,  went  in  state  to  see  the  water  enter  the 
New  River  Head  at  Islington,  to  the  sound  of  drums 
and  trumpets  and  the  roar  of  guns.  In  16 18,  Sir 
Sebastian  Harvey  (Ironmonger)  was  mayor  :  during 
his  show  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  was  executed,  the  time 
being  specially  chosen  to  draw  away  the  sympa- 
thisers "  from  beholding,"  as  Aubrey  says,  "  the 
tragedy  of  the  gallantest  worthy  that  England 
ever  bred." 

In  164T  Sir  Richard  Gurney  (Clothworker),  and  a 
sturdy  Royalist,  entertained  that  promise-breaking 
king,  Charles  I.,  at  the  Guildhall.  The  entertain- 
ment consisted  of  500  dishes.  Gurney's  master,  a 
silk  mercer  in  Cheapside,  left  him  his  shop  and 
;^6,oao.  The  Parliament  ejected  him  from  the 
mayoralty  and  sent  him  to  the  Tower,  where  he 
lingered  for  seven  years  till  lie  died,  rather  than 
pay  a  fine  of  ;^5,ooo,  for  refusing  to  publish  an 
Act  for  the  abolition  of  royalty.  He  was  president 
of  Christ's  Hospital.  His  successor,  Sir  Isaac 
Pennington  (Fishmonger),  was  one  of  the  king's 
judges,  who  died  in  the  Tower  ;  Sir  Thomas  Atkins 
(Mercer),  mayor  in  1645,  sat  on  the  trial  of 
Charles  I.;  Sir  Thomas  Adams  (Draper),  mayor  in 
1646,  was  also  sent  to  the  Tower  for  refusing  to 
publish  the  Abolition  of  Royalty  Act.  He  founded 
an  Arabic  lecture  at  Cambridge,  and  a  grammar- 
school  at  Wem,  in  Shropshire.  Sir  John  Gayer 
(Fishmonger),  mayor  in  1647,  was  committed  to 
the  Tower  in  1648  as  a  Royalist,  as  also  was  Sir 
Abraham  Reynardson,  mayor  in  1649.  Sir  Thomas 
Foot  (Grocer),  mayor  in  1650,  was  knighted  by 
Cromwell ;  two  of  his  daughters  married  knights, 
and  two  baronets.  Earl  Onslow  is  one  of  his 
descendants.  Sir  Christopher  Packe  (Draper), 
mayor  in  1654,  became  a  member  of  Cromwell's 
House  of  Lords  as  Lord  Packe,  and  from  him 
Sir  Dennis  Packe,  the  Peninsula  general,  was  de- 
scended. 

Sir  Robert  Tichborne  (Skinner),  mayor  in  1656, 
sat  on  the  trial  of  Charles  L,  and  signed  the  death 
warrant.  Sir  Richard  Chiverton  (Skinner),  mayor  in 
1657,  was  the  first  Cornish  mayor  of  London.  He 
was  knighted  both  by  Cromwell  and  by  Charles  II., 
which  says  something  for  his  political  dexterity. 
Sir  John  Ireton  (Clothworker),  mayor  in  1658,  was 
brother  of  General  Ireton,  Cromwell's  son-in-law. 


The  period  of  the  Commonwealth  did  not 
furnish  many  mayors  worth  recording  here.  In 
1644,  the  year  of  Marston  Moor,  the  City  gave  a 
splendid  entertainment  to  both  Houses  of  Parlia- 
ment, the  Earls  of  Essex,  \\'arwick,  and  Man- 
chester, the  Scotch  Commissioners,  Cromwell,  and 
the  principal  officers  of  the  army.  They  heard  a 
sermon  at  Christ  Church,  Newgate  Street,  and  went 
on  foot  to  Guildhall.  The  Lord  Mayor  and  alder- 
men led  the  procession,  and  as  they  passed  through 
Cheapside,  some  Popish  pictures,  crucifixes,  and 
relics  were  burnt  on  a  scafibld.  The  object  of  the 
banquet  was  to  prevent  a  letter  of  the  king's  being 
read  in  the  Common  Hall.  On  January  7th  the 
Lord  Mayor  gave  a  banquet  to  the  House  of 
Commons,  Cromwell,  and  the  chief  officers,  to 
commemorate  the  rout  of  the  dangerous  Levellers. 
In  1653,  the  year  Cromwell  was  chosen  Lord  Pro- 
tector, he  dined  at  the  Guildhall,  and  knighted  the 
mayor,  John  Fowke  (Haberdasher). 

The  reign  of  Charles  11.  and  the  Royalist 
reaction  brought  more  tyranny  and  more  trouble  to 
the  City.  The  king  tried  to  be  as  despotic  as  his 
father,  and  resolved  to  break  the  Whig  love  of 
freedom  that  prevailed  among  the  citizens.  Loyal 
as  some  of  the  citizens  seem  to  have  been. 
King  Charles  scarcely  deserved  much  favour  at  their 
hands.  A  more  reckless  tyrant  to  the  City  had 
never  sat  on  the  English  throne.  Because  they 
refused  a  loan  of  ;^i  00,000  on  bad  security,  the 
king  imprisoned  twenty  of  the  principal  citizens, 
and  required  the  City  to  fit  out  100  ships.  For  a 
trifling  riot  in  the  City  (a  mere  pretext),  the  mayor 
and  aldermen  were  amerced  in  the  sum  of  ^^6,000. 
For  the  pretended  mismanagement  of  their  Irisli 
estates,  the  City  was  condemned  to  the  loss  of  their 
Irish  possessions  and  fined  ;^5o,ooo.  Four  alder- 
men were  imprisoned  for  not  disclosing  the  names 
of  friends  who  refused  to  advance  money  to  the 
king ;  and,  finally,  to  the  contempt  of  all  con- 
stitutional law,  the  citizens  were  forbidden  to  peti- 
tion the  king  for  the  redress  of  grievances.  Did 
such  a  king  deserve  mercy  at  the  hands  of  the 
subjects  he  had  oppressed,  and  time  after  time 
spurned  and  deceived? 

In  1 66 1,  the  year  after  the  Restoration,  Sir  John 
Frederick  (Grocer),  mayor,  revived  the  old  customs 
of  Bartholomew's  Fair.  The  first  day  there  was 
a  wrestling  match  in  Moorfields,  the  mayor  and 
aldermen  being  present ;  the  second  day,  archery, 
after  the  usual  proclamation  and  challenges  through 
the  City  ;  the  third  day,  a  hunt.  The  Fair  people 
considered  the  three  days  a  great  hindrance  and 
loss  to  them,  Pepys,  the  delightful  chronicler  of 
these  times,  went   to   this    Lord  Mayor's    dinner. 


Mayors  of  London.'] 


A  BRAVE  LORD   MAYOR. 


405 


where  he  found  "  most  excellent  venison ;  but  it 
made  me  almost  sick,  not  daring  to  drink  wine." 

Amidst  the  factions  and  the  vulgar  citizens  of 
this  reign,  Sir  John  La^vrence  (Grocer),  mayor  in 
1664,  stands  out  a  burning  and  a  shining  light. 
When  the  dreadful  plague  was  mowing  down  the 
terrified  people  of  London  in  great  swathes,  this 
brave  man,  instead  of  flying  quietly,  remained  at 
his  house  in  St.  Helen's,  Bishopsgate,  enforcing 
wise  regulations  for  the  sufferers,  and,  what  is  more, 
himself  seeing  them  executed.  He  supported  during 
this  calamity  40,000  discharged  servants.  In  1666 
(the  Great  Fire)  the  mayor.  Sir  Thomas  Blud- 
worth  (Vintner),  whose  daughter  married  Judge 
Jeffries,  is  described  by  Pepys  as  quite  losing  his 
head  during  the  great  catastrophe,  and  running 
about  exclaiming,  "  Lord,  what  can  I  do  ?"  and  hold- 
ing his  head  in  an  exhausted  and  helpless  way. 

In  167 1  Sir  George  Waterman  (mayor,  son  of  a 
Southwark  vintner)  entertained  Charles  II.  at  his 
inaugural  dinner.  In  the  pageant  on  this  occasion, 
there  was  a  forest,  with  animals,  wood  nymphs,  &c., 
and  in  front  two  negroes  riding  on  panthers.  Near 
Milk  Street  end  was  a  platform,  on  which  Jacob 
Hall,  the  great  rope-dancer  of  the  day,  and  his 
company  danced  and  tumbled.  There  is  a  mention 
of  Hall,  perhaps  on  this  occasion,  in  the  "State 
Poems : " — 

"  When  Jacob  Hall  on  his  high  rope  shows  tricks, 
The  dragon  flutters,  tlie  Lord  Mayor's  horse  kicks  ; 
The  Cheapside  crowds  and  pageants  scarcely  know 
Which  most  t'  admire — Hall,  hobby-horse,  or  Bow." 

In  1674  Sir  Robert  Vyner  (Goldsmith)  was 
mayor,  and  Charles  II.,  who  was  frequently  enter- 
tained by  the  City,  dined  with  him.  "  The  wine 
passed  too  freely,  the  guests  growing  noisy,  and  the 
mayor  too  familiar,  the  king,"  says  a  correspon- 
dent of  Steele's  {Spectator,  462),  "  with  a  hint  to  the 
company  to  disregard  ceremonial,  stole  off  to  his 
coach,  which  was  waiting  in  Guildhall  Yard.  But 
the  mayor,  grown  bold  with  wine,  pursued  the 
'  merry  monarch,'  and,  catching  him  by  the  hand, 
cried  out,  with  a  vehement  oath,  'Sir,  you  shall 
stay  and  take  t'other  bottle.'  The  '  merry  monarch ' 
looked  kindly  at  him  over  his  shoulder,  and  with 
a  smile  and  graceful  air  (for  I  saw  him  at  the 
time,  and  do  now)  repeated  the  line  of  the  old 
song,  'He  that  is  drunk  is  as  great  as  a  king,' 
and  iinmediately  turned  back  and  complied  with 
his  host's  request." 

Sir  Robert  Clayton  (Draper),  mayor  in  1679,  was 
one  of  the  most  eminent  citizens  in  Charles  II.'s 
reign.  The  friend  of  Algernon  Sidney  and  Lord 
William  Russell,  he  sat  in  seven  Parliaments  as 
representative  of  the  City;  was  more  than  thirty 


years  alderman  of  Cheap  Ward,  and  ultimately 
father  of  the  City;  the  mover  of  the  celebrated  Ex- 
clusion Bill  (seconded  by  Lord  William  Russell); 
and  eminent  alike  as  a  patriot,  a  statesman,  and 
a  citizen.  He  projected  the  Mathematical  School 
at  Christ's  Hospital,  built  additions  there,  helped 
to  rebuild  the  house,  and  left  the  sum  of  ;^2,3oo 
towards  its  funds.  He  was  a  director  of  the  Bank 
of  England,  and  governor  of  the  Irish  Society.  He 
was  mayor  during  the  pretended  Popish  Plot,  and 
was  afterwards  marked  out  for  death  by  King 
James,  but  saved  by  the  intercession  (of  all  men 
in  the  world  !)  of  Jeffries.  This  "prince  of  citizens," 
as  Evelyn  calls  him,  had  been  apprenticed  to  a 
scrivener.  He  lived  in  great  splendour  in  Old 
Jewry,  where  Charles  and  the  Duke  of  York  supped 
with  him  during  his  mayoralty.  There  is  a  portrait 
of  him,  worthy  of  Kneller,  in  Drapers'  Hall,  and 
another,  with  carved  wood  frame  by  Gibbons,  in 
the  Guildhall  Library. 

In  168 1,  when  the  reaction  came  and  the  Court 
party  triumphed,  gaining  a  verdict  of  ;^ioo,ooo 
against  Alderman  Pilkington  (Skinner),  sheriff,  for 
slandering  the  Duke  of  York,  Sir  Patience  Ward 
(Merchant  Taylor),  mayor  in  1680,  was  sentenced 
to  the  ignominy  of  the  pillory.  In  1682  (Sir  William 
Pritchard,  Merchant  Taylor,  mayor),  Dudley  North, 
brother  of  Lord  Keeper  North,  was  one  of  the 
sheriffs  chosen  by  the  Court  party  to  pack  juries. 
He  was  celebrated  for  his  splendid  house  in  Basing- 
hall  Street,  and  Macaulay  tells  us  "  that,  in  the  days 
of  judicial  butchery,  carts  loaded  with  the  legs  and 
arms  of  quartered  Whigs  were,  to  the  great  dis- 
composure of  his  lady,  'driven  to  his  door  for 
orders.' " 

In  1 688  Sir  John  Shorter  (Goldsmith),  appointed 
mayor  by  James  II.,  met  his  death  in  a  singular 
manner.  He  was  on  his  way  to  open  Bartholomew 
Fair,  by  reading  the  proclamation  at  the  entrance 
to  Cloth  Fair,  Smithfield.  It  was  the  custom  for 
the  mayors  to  call  by  the  way  on  the  Keeper  of 
Newgate,  and  there  partake  on  horseback  of  a 
"  cool  tankard  "  of  wine,  spiced  with  nutmeg  and 
sweetened  with  sugar.  In  receiving  the  tankard 
Sir  John  let  the  lid  flop  down,  his  horse  started, 
he  was  thrown  violently,  and  died  the  next  day. 
This  custom  ceased  in  the  second  mayoralty  of  Sir 
Matthew  Wood,  1817.  Sir  John  was  maternal  grand- 
father of  Horace  Walpole.  Sir  John  Houblon 
(Grocer),  mayor  in  1695  (William  III.),  is  supposed 
by  Mr.  Orridge  to  have  been  a  brother  of  Abraham 
Houblon,  first  Governor  of  the  Bank  of  England, 
and  Lord  of  the  Admiralty,  and  great-grandfather 
of  the  late  Viscount  Palmerston.  Sir  Humphrey 
Edwin  (Skinner),  mayor  in  1697,  enraged  the  Tories 


40  6 


OLD   AND    NEW  LONDON. 


l.Mayors  of  London. 


by  omitting  the  show  on  religious  grounds,  and 
riding  to  a  conventicle  with  all  the  insignia  of  office, 
an  event  ridiculed  by  Swift  in  his  "  Tale  of  a  Tub," 
and  Pinkethman  in  his  comedy  of  Lcn'e  wWiotit 
Interest  (1699),  where  he  talks  of  "my  lord  mayor 
going  to  Pinmakers'  Hall,  to  hear  a  snivelling  and 
separatist  divine  divide  and  subdivide  into  the  two- 
and-thirty  points  of  the  compass."  In  1700  the 
Mayor  was  Sir  Thomas  Abney  (Fishmonger),  one 
of  the  first  Directors  of  the  Bank  of  England,  best 
known  as  a  pious  and  consistent  man,  who  for 
thirty-six  years  kept  Dr.  Watts,  as  his  guest  and 
friend,  in  his  mansion  at  Stoke  Newington.  "  No 
business  or  festivity,"  remarks  Mr.  Timbs,  "was 
allowed  to  interrupt  Sir  Thomas's  religious  obser- 
vances. The  very  day  he  became  Lord  Mayor 
he  withdrew  from  the  Guildhall  after  supper, 
read  prayers  at  home,  and  then  returned  to  his 
guests," 

In  1702,  Sir  Samuel  Dashwood  (Vintner)  enter- 
tained Queen  Anne  at  the  Guildhall,  and  his  was 
the  last  pageant  ever  publicly  performed,  one  for 
the  show  of  1708  being  stopped  by  the  death  of 
Prince  George  of  Denmark  the  day  before,  "  The 
show,"  says  Mr.  J.  G.  Nicholls,  "cost  ^£"737  2s., 
poor  Settle  receiving  ^10  for  his  crambo  verses." 
A  daughter  of  this  Dashwood  became  the  wife  of 
the  fifth  Lord  Brooke,  and  an  ancestor  of  the 
present  Earl  of  Warwick.  Sir  John  Parsons,  mayor 
in  1704,  was  a  remarkable  person;  for  he  gave 
up  his  official  fees  towards  the  payment  of  the  City 
debts.  It  was  remarked  of  Sir  Samuel  Gerrard, 
mayor  in  17 10,  that  three  of  his  name  and  family 
were  Lord  Mayors  in  three  queens'  reigns — Mary, 
Elizabeth,  and  Anne.  Sir  Gilbert  Heathcote 
(mayor  in  17  n),  ancestor  of  Lord  Aveland  and 
Viscount  Donne,  was  the  last  mayor  who  rode 
in  his  procession  on  horseback ;  for  after  this 
time,  the  mayors,  abandoning  the  noble  career 
of  horsemanship,  retired  into  their  gilt  gingerbread 
coach. 

Sir  William  Humphreys,  mayor  in  1 7 1 5  (George 
I.),  was  father  of  the  City,  and  alderman  of  Cheap 
for  twenty-six  years.  Of  his  Lady  Mayoress  an  old 
story  is  told  relative  to  the  custom  of  the  sovereign 
kissing  the  Lady  Mayoress  upon  visiting  Guildhall. 
Queen  Anne  broke  down  this  observance ;  but 
upon  the  accession  of  George  I.,  on  his  first  visit  to 
the  City,  from  his  known  character  for  gallantry,  it 
was  expected  that  once  again  a  Lady  Mayoress 
was  to  be  kissed  by  the  king  on  the  steps  of  the 
Guildhall.  But  he  had  no  feeling  of  admiration 
for  English  beauty.  "  It  was  only,"  says  a  writer 
in  the  AtJmicBiim^  "after  repeated  assurance  that 
saluting  a  lady,   on   her   appointment   to   a   con- 


fidential post  near  some  persons  of  the  Royal 
Family,  was  the  sealing,  as  it  were,  of  her  appoint- 
ment, that  he  expressed  his  readiness  to  kiss  Lady 
Cowper  on  her  nomination  as  lady  of  the  bed- 
chamber to  the  Princess  of  Wales.  At  his  first 
appearance  at  Guildhall,  the  admirer  of  Madame 
Kielmansegge  respected  the  new  observance  esta- 
blished by  Queen  Anne ;  yet  poor  Lady  Humphreys, 
the  mayoress,  hoped,  at  all  events,  to  receive  the 
usual  tribute  from  royalty  from  the  lips  of  the 
Princess  of  Wales.  But  that  strong-minded  woman, 
Caroline  Dorothea  Wilhelmina,  steadily  looked 
away  from  the  mayor's  consort.  She  would  not 
do  what  Queen  Anne  had  not  thought  worth  the 
doing ;  and  Lady  Humphreys,  we  are  sorry  to  say, 
stood  upon  her  unstable  rights,  and  displayed  a 
considerable  amount  of  bad  temper  and  worse 
behaviour.  She  wore  a  train  of  black  velvet,  then 
considered  one  of  the  privileges  of  City  royalty, 
and  being  wronged  of  one,  she  resolved  to  make 
the  best  of  that  which  she  possessed — bawling,  as 
ladies,  mayoresses,  and  women  generally  should 
never  do — bawling  to  her  page  to  hold  up  her  train, 
and  sweeping  away  therewith  before  the  presence 
of  the  amused  princess  herself.  The  incident 
altogether  seems  to  have  been  too  much  for  the 
good  but  irate  lady's  nerves ;  and  unable  or 
unwilling,  when  dinner  was  announced,  to  carry 
her  stupendous  bouquet,  emblem  of  joy  and  wel- 
come, she  flung  it  to  a  second  page  wlio  attended 
on  her  state,  with  a  scream  of  '  Boy,  take  my 
bucket  r  In  her  view  of  things,  the  sun  had  set 
on  the  glory  of  mayoralty  for  ever. 

"  The  king  was  as  much  amazed  as  the  princess 
had  been  amused ;  and  a  well-inspired  wag  of  the 
Court  whispered  an  assurance  which  increased  his 
perplexity.  It  was  to  the  effect  that  the  angry 
lady  was  only  a  mock  Lady  Mayoress,  whom  the 
unmarried  Mayor  had  hired  for  the  occasion, 
borrowing  her  for  that  day  only.  The  assurance 
was  credited  for  a  time,  till  persons  more  discreet 
than  the  wag  convinced  the  Court  party  that  Lady 
Humphreys  was  really  no  counterfeit.  She  was  no 
beauty  either  ;  and  the  same  party,  when  they  vA'ith- 
drew  from  the  festive  scene,  were  all  of  one  mind, 
that  she  must  needs  be  what  she  seemed,  for  if  the 
Lord  Mayor  had  been  under  the  necessity  of 
borrowing,  he  would  have  borrowed  altogether 
another  sort  of  woman,"  This  is  one  of  the  earliest 
stories  connecting  the  City  with  an  idea  of  vulgarity 
and  purse  pride.  The  stories  commenced  witli  the 
Court  Tories,  when  the  City  began  to  resist  Court 
oppression. 

A  leap  now  takes  us  on  in  the  City  chronicles. 
In    1727   (the   year   George    I,   died),   the   Royal 


Mayors  of  London.] 


LORD    MAYOR   BECKFORD'S    FAMOUS    SPEECH. 


407 


Family,  the  Ministry,  besides  nobles  and  foreign 
ministers,  were  entertained  by  Sir  Edward  Becher, 
mayor  (Draper).  George  II.  ordered  the  sum  of 
p^ijOoo  to  be  paid  to  the  sheriffs  for  the  rehef  of 
insolvent  debtors.  The  feast  cost  ;^4,89o.  In 
1733  (George  II.),  John  Barber — Swift,  Pope,  and 
Bolingbroke's  friend — tlie  Jacobite  printer  who 
defeated  a  scheme  of  a  general  excise,  was  mayor. 
Barber  erected  the  monument  to  Butler_,  the  poet, 
in  Westminster  Abbey,  who,  by  the  way,  had 
written  a  very  sarcastic  "  Character  of  an  Alder- 
man." Barber's  epitaph  on  the  poet's  monument 
is  in  high-flown  Latin,  which  drew  from  Samuel 
Wesley  these  lines  : — 

"  While  Butler,  needy  wretch  !  was  yet  alive, 
No  generous  patron  would  a  dinner  give. 
See  him,  when  starved  to  death,  and  turned  to  dust, 
Presented  with  a  monumental  bust. 
The  poet's  fate  is  here  in  emblem  shown — 
He  asked  for  bread,  and  he  received  a  stone." 

In  1739  (George  II.)  Sir  Micajah  Perry  (Haber- 
dasher) laid  the  first  stone  of  the  Mansion  House. 
Sir  Samuel  Pennant  (mayor  in  1750),  kinsman  of 
the  London  historian,  died  of  gaol  fever,  caught 
at  Newgate,  and  which  at  the  same  time  carried  off 
an  alderman,  two  judges,  and  some  disregarded 
commonalty.  _  The  great  bell  of  St.  Paul's  tolled 
on  the  death  of  the  Lord  Mayor,  according  to 
custom.  Sir  Christopher  Gascoigne  (1753),  an 
ancestor  of  the  present  Viscount  Cranbourne,  was 
the  first  Lord  Mayor  who  resided  at  the  Mansion 
House. 

In  that  memorable  year  (1761)  when  Sir  Samuel 
Fludyer  was  elected,  King  George  III.  and  Queen 
Charlotte  (the  young  couple  newly  crowned)  came 
to  the  City  to  see  the  Lord  Mayor's  Show  from 
Mr.  Barclay's  window,  as  we  have  already  described 
in  our  account  of  Cheapside ;  and  the  ancient 
pageant  was  so  far  revived  that  the  Fishmongers 
ventured  on  a  St.  Peter,  a  dolphin,  and  two 
mermaids,  and  the  Skinners  on  Indian  princes 
dressed  in  furs.  Sir  Samuel  Fludyer  was  a  Cloth 
Hall  factor,  and  the  City's  scandalous  chronicle 
says  tliat  he  originally  came  up  to  London  attend- 
ing clothier's  pack-horses,  from  the  west  country; 
his  second  wife  was  granddaughter  of  a  noble- 
man, and  niece  of  the  Earl  of  Cardigan.  His 
sons  married  into  the  Montagu  and  Westmore- 
land famihes,  and  his  descendants  are  connected 
with  the  Earls  Onslow  and  Brownlow;  and  he 
was  very  kind  to  young  Romilly,  his  kinsman 
(afterwards  the  excellent  Sir  Samuel).  The  "City 
Biography"  says  Fludyer  died  from  vexation  at  a 
reprimand  given  him  by  the  Lord  Chancellor,  for 
having    carried  on  a  contraband  trade  in  scarlet 


cloth,  to  the  prejudice  of  the  East  India  Com- 
pany. Sir  Samuel  was  the  ground  landlord  of 
Fludyer  Street,  Westminster,  cleared  away  for  the 
new  Foreign  Office. 

In  1762  and  again  in  1769  that  bold  citizen, 
William  Beckford,  a  friend  of  the  great  Chatham, 
was  Lord  Mayor.  He  was  descended  from  a 
Maidenhead  tailor,  one  of  whose  sons  made  a  for- 
tune in  Jamaica.  At  Westminster  School  he  had 
acquired  the  friendship  of  Lord  Mansfield  and  a 
rich  earl.  Beckford  united  in  himself  the  follow- 
ing apparently  incongruous  characters.  He  was 
an  enormously  rich  Jamaica  planter,  a  merchant,  a 
member  of  Parliament,  a  mihtia  officer,  a  provin- 
cial magistrate,  a  London  alderman,  a  man  cif 
pleasure,  a  man  of  taste,  an  orator,  and  a  country 
gentleman.  He  opposed  Government  on  all  occa- 
sions, especially  in  bringing  over  Hessian  troops, 
and  in  carrying  on  a  German  war.  His  great  dictum 
was  that  under  the  House  of  Hanover  English- 
men for  the  first  time  had  been  able  to  be  free, 
and  for  the  first  time  had  determined  to  be  free. 
He  presented  to  the  king  a  remonstrance  against 
a  false  return  made  at  the  Middlesex  election. 
The  king  expressed  dissatisfaction  at  the  remon- 
strance, but  Beckford  presented  another,  and  to 
the  astonishment  of  the  Court,  added  the  follow- 
ing impromptu  speech  : — 

"Permit  me,  sire,  to  observe,"  are  said  to  have 
been  the  concluding  remarks  of  the  insolent  citizen, 
"that  whoever  has  already  dared,  or  shall  hereafter 
endeavour  by  false  insinuations  and  suggestions  to 
alienate  your  Majesty's  affections  from  your  loyal 
subjects  in  general,  and  from  the  City  of  London 
in  particular,  and  to  withdraw  your  confidence  in, 
and  regard  for,  your  people,  is  an  enemy  to  your  • 
Majesty's  person  and  family,  a  violator  of  the  public 
peace,  and  a  betrayer  of  our  happy  constitution  as 
it  was  established  at  the  Glorious  and  Necessary 
Revolution."  At  these  words  the  king's  counte- 
nance was  observed  to  flush  with  anger.  He  still, 
however,  presented  a  dignified  silence  ;  and  accord- 
ingly the  citizens,  after  having  been  permitted  to 
kiss  the  king's  hand,  were  forced  to  return  dissatis- 
fied from  the  presence-chamber. 

This  speech,  which  won  Lord  Chatham's  "  ad- 
miration, thanks,  and  affection,"  and  was  inscribed 
on  the  pedestal  of  Beckford's  statue  erected  in 
Guildhall,  has  been  the  subject  of  bitter  disputes. 
Isaac  Reed  boldly  asserts  every  word  was  written 
by  Home  Tooke,  and  that  Home  Tooke  himself 
said  so.  Gifford,  with  his  usual  headlong  par- 
tisanship, says  the  same ;  but  there  is  every  reason 
to  suppose  that  the  words  are  those  uttered  by 
Beckford  with  but  one  slight  alteration.     Beckford 


4o8 


OLD   AND    NEW   LONDON. 


[Mayors  of  London. 


died,  a  short  time  after  making  this  speech,  of  a 
fever,  caught  by  riding  from  London  to  Fonthill, 
his  Wiltshire  estate.  His  son,  the  noveHst  and 
voluptuary,  had  a  long  minority,  and  succeeded 
at  last  to  a  million  ready  money  and  ;^i 00,000 
a  year,  only  to  end  life  a  solitary,  despised, 
exiled  man.  One  of  his  daughters  married  the 
Duke  of  Hamilton. 

The  Riglit  Hon.  Thomas  Harley,  Lord  Mayor 
in  1768,  was  a  brother  of  the  Earl  of  Oxford.     He 


fell,  unfortunately,  with  considerable  force,  against 
the  front  glass  of  Mr.  Sheriff  Harley's  chariot,  which 
it  shattered  to  pieces.  This  gave  the  first  alarm  ; 
the  sheriffs  retired  into  the  Mansion  House,  and  a 
man  was  taken  up  and  brought  there  for  examina- 
tion, as  a  person  concerned  in  the  riot.  The  man 
appeared  to  be  a  mere  idle  spectator ;  but  the  Lord 
Mayor  informed  the  court  that,  in  order  to  try  the 
temper  of  the  mob,  he  had  ordered  one  of  his  o\vn 
servants  to  be  dressed  in  the  clothes  of  the  supposed 


l>  A^AlI"..''/7,v3.■ 


A   LOkU    MAYWR   AND   HIS    LADY   (MIDDLE   OK   SEVENTEENTH    CENTURY).        I^VOIll   ait    Old  J'ruiL 


turned  wine-merchant,  and  married  the  daughter 
of  his  father's  steward,  according  to  the  .scandalous 
chronicles  in  the  "  City  Biography."  He  is  said, 
in  partnership  with  Mr.  Drummond,  to  have  made 
;^6oo,ooo  by  taking  a  Government  contract  to 
pay  the  English  army  in  America  with  foreign 
gold.  He  was  for  many  years  "  the  father  of 
the  City." 

Harley  first  rendered  himself  famous  in  the  City 
by  seizing  the  boot  and  petticoat  which  the  mob 
were  burning  opposite  the  Mansion  House,  in  de- 
rision of  Lord  Bute  and  the  princess-dowager,  at 
the  time  the  sheriffs  were  burning  the  celebrated 
North  Briton.  The  mob  were  throwing  the  papers 
about  as  matter  of  diversion,  and  one  of  the  bundles 


offender,  and  conveyed  to  the  "Poultry  Compter,  so 
that  if  a  rescue  should  be  effected,  the  prisoner 
would  still  be  in  custody,  and  the  real  disposition 
of  the  people  discovered.  However,  everything 
was  peaceable,  and  the  course  of  justice  was  not 
interrupted,  nor  did  any  insult  accompany  the  com- 
mitment ;  whereupon  the  prisoner  was  discharged. 
What  followed,  in  the  actual  burning  of  the  seditious 
paper,  the  Lord  Mayor  declared  (according  to  the 
best  information),  arose  from  circumstances  equally 
foreign  to  any  illegal  or  violent  designs.  For  these 
reasons  his  lordship  concluded  by  declaring  that, 
with  the  greatest  respect  for  the  sheriffs,  and  a  firm 
belief  that  they  would  have  done  their  duty  in 
spite  of  any  danger,  he  should  put  a  negative  upon 


Mayors  of  London.] 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


409 


giving  the  thanks  of  the  City  upon  a  matter  that 
was  not  sufificiently  important  for  a  public  and 
solemn  acknowledgment,  which  ought  only  to  follow 
the  most  eminent  exertions  of  duty. 

In  1770  Brass  Crosby  (mayor)  signalised  him- 
self by  a  patriotic  resistance  to  Court  oppression, 
and  the  arbitrary  proceedings  of  the  House  of 
Commons.  He  was  a  Sunderland  solicitor,  who 
had  married  his  employer's  widow,  and  settled  in 
London.  He  married  in  all  three  wives,  and  is 
said  to  have  received  ;^2oo,ooo  by  the  three. 
Shortly  after  Crosby's  election,  the  House  of 
Commons  issued  warrants  against  the  printers  of 
the  Middlesex  Journal  and  the  Gazetteer,  for  pre- 
suming to  give  reports  of  the  debates ;   but  on 


the  House,  declaring  that  effacing  a  record  was 
an  act  of  the  greatest  despotism ;  and  Junius,  in 
Letter  44,  wrote  :  "By  mere  violence,  and  without 
the  shadow  of  right,  they  have  expunged  the 
record  of  a  judicial  proceeding."  Soon  after  this 
act,  on  the  motion  of  Welbore  Ellis,  the  mayor  was 
committed  to  the  Tower.  The  people  were  furious ; 
Lord  North  lost  his  cocked  hat,  and  even  Fox  had 
his  clothes  torn;  and  the  mob  obtaining  a  rope, 
but  for  Crosby's  entreaties,  would  have  hung  the 
Deputy  Sergeant-at-Arms.  The  question  was  simply 
whether  the  House  had  the  right  to  despotically 
arrest  and  imprison,  and  to  supersede  trial  by 
jury.  On  the  8th  of  May  the  session  terminated, 
and   the   Lord   Mayor  was   released.      The   City 


iil|ljiP't»'Bivi'Mi|iirfli^^^ 


WILKES  ON  His  TRIAL.     (From  a  Contemporary  Print.) 


being  brought  before  Alderman  Wilkes,  he  dis- 
charged them.  The  House  then  proceeded  against 
the  printer  of  the  Evetiing  Post,  but  Crosby  dis- 
charged him,  and  committed  the  messenger  of  the 
House  for  assault  and  false  imprisonment.  Not 
long  after,  Crosby  appeared  at  the  bar  of  the 
House,  and  defended  what  he  had  done ;  pleading 
strongly  that  by  an  Act  of  William  and  Mary  no 
warrant  could  be  executed  in  the  City  but  by  its 
ministers.  Wilkes  also  had  received  an  order  to 
attend  at  the  bar  of  the  House,  but  refused  to 
comply  with  it,  on  the  ground  that  no  notice  had 
been  taken  in  the  order  of  his  being  a  member. 
The  next  day  the  Lord  Mayor's  clerk  attended 
with  the  Book  of  Recognisances,  and  Lord  North 
having  carried  a  motion  that  the  recognisance 
be  erased,  the  clerk  was  compelled  to  cancel  it. 
Most  of  the  Opposition  indignantly  rose  and  left 
86 


was  illuminated  at  night,  and  there  were  great 
rejoicings.  The  victory  was  finally  won.  The 
great  end  of  the  contest,"  says  Mr.  Orridge,  "  was 
obtained.  From  that  day  to  the  present  the 
House  of  Commons  has  never  ventured  to  assail  the 
liberty  of  the  press,  or  to  prevent  the  publication 
of  the  Parliamentary  debates." 

At  his  inauguration  dinner  in  Guildhall,  there 
was  a  superabundance  of  good  things  ;  notwith- 
standing which,  a  great  number  of  young  fellows, 
after  the  dinner  was  over,  being  heated  with  liquor, 
got  upon  the  hustings,  and  broke  all  the  bottles  and 
glasses  within  their  reach.  At  this  time  the  Court 
and  Ministry  were  out  of  favour  in  the  City  ;  and 
till  the  year  1776,  when  Halifax  took  as  the  legend 
of  his  mayoralty  "  Justice  is  the  ornament  and  pro- 
tection of  liberty,"  no  member  of  the  Government 
received  an  invitation  to  dine  at  Guildhall. 


4IO 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Mayors  of  London. 


CHAPTERXXXV. 
THE    LORD    MAYORS    OF    LONDON    {continued). 

John  Wilkes  :  his  Birth  and  Parentage— The  North  Briton— TtntX  with  Martin— His  Expulsion— Personal  Appearance— Anecdotes  of  Wilkes— 
A  Reason  for  making  a  Speech— Wilkes  and  the  King — The  Lord  Mayor  at  the  Gordon  Riots— "  Soap-suds"  rvr««  "  Bar" — Sir  William 
Curtis  and  his  Kilt— A  Gambling  Lord  Mayor— Sir  William  Staines,  Bricklayer  and  Lord  Mayor—"  Patty-pan"  Birch— Sir  JMatthew  Wood 
— Waithman— Sir  Peter  Laurie  and  the  "  Dregs  of  the  People  "—Recent  Lord  Mayors. 


In  1774  that  clever  rascal,  John  Wilkes,  ascended 
the  civic  throne.  We  shall  so  often  meet  this  un- 
scrupulous demagogue  about  London,  that  we  will 
not  dwell  upon  him  here  at  much  length.  Wilkes 
was  born  in  Clerkenwell,  1727.  His  father,  Israel 
Wilkes,  was  a  rich  distiller  (as  his  father  and 
grandfather  had  been),  who  kept  a  coach  and  six, 
and  whose  house  was  a  resort  of  persons  of  rank, 
merchants,  and  men  of  letters.  Young  Wilkes  grew 
up  a  man  of  pleasure,  squandered  his  wife's  fortune 
in  gambling  and  other  fashionable  vices,  and 
became  a  notorious  member  of  the  Hell  Fire 
Club  at  Medmenham  Abbey.  He  now  eagerly 
stroye  for  place,  asking  Mr.  Pitt  to  find  him  a  post 
in  the  Board  of  Trade,  or  to  send  him  as  am- 
bassador to  Constantinople.  Finding  his  efforts  use- 
less, he  boldly  avowed  his  intention  of  becoming 
notorious  by  assaiUng  Government.  In  1763,  in  his 
scurrilous  paper,  the  North  Britain,  he  violently 
abused  the  Princess  Dowager  and  her  favourite  Lord 
Bute,  who  were  supposed  to  influence  the  young 
king,  and  in  the  celebrated  No.  45  he  accused  the 
ministers  of  putting  a  lie  in  the  king's  mouth.  The 
Government  illegally  arresting  him  by  an  arbitrary 
"general  warrant,"  he  was  committed  to  the 
Tower,  and  at  once  became  the  martyr  of  the 
people  and  the  idol  of  the  City.  Released  by 
Chief-Justice  Pratt,  he  was  next  proceeded  against 
for  an  obscene  poem,  the  "  Essay  on  Woman."  He 
fought  a  duel  with  Samuel  Martin,  a  brother  M.P., 
who  had  insulted  him,  and  was  expelled  the  House 
in  1764.  He  then  went  to  France  in  the  height  of 
his  popularity,  having  just  obtained  a  verdict  in  his 
favour  upon  the  question  of  the  warrant.  On  his 
return  to  England,  he  daringly  stood  for  the  repre- 
sentation of  London,  and  was  elected  for  Middlesex. 
Riots  took  place,  a  man  was  shot  by  the  soldiers, 
and  Wilkes  was  committed  to  the  King's  Bench 
prison.  After  a  long  contest  with  the  Commons, 
Wilkes  was  expelled  the  House,  and  being  re-elected 
for  Middlesex,  the  election  was  declared  void. 

Eventually  Wilkes  became  Chamberlain  of  the 
City,  lectured  refractory  apprentices  like  a  father, 
and  tamed  down  to  an  ordinary  man  of  the  world, 
still  shameless,  ribald,  irreligious,  but,  as  Gibbon 
says,  "a  good  companion  with  inexhaustible  spirits, 
infinite  wit  and  humour,  and  a  great  deal  of  know- 
ledge."    He  quietly  took  his  seat  for  Middlesex  in 


1782,  and  eight  years  afterwards  the  resolutions 
against  him  were  erased  from  the  Journals  of  the 
House.  He  died  in  1797,  at  his  house  in  Gros- 
venor  Square.  Wilkes'  sallow  face,  sardonic  squint, 
and  projecting  jaw,  are  familiar  to  us  from  Hogarth's 
terrible  caricature.  He  generally  wore  the  dress  of 
a  colonel  of  the  militia — scarlet  and  buff,  with  a 
cocked  liat  and  rosette,  bag  wig,  and  military  boots, 
and  O'Keefe  describes  seeing  him  walking  in  from 
his  house  at  Kensington  Gore,  disdaining  all  offers 
of  a  coach.  Dr.  Franklin,  when  in  England,  de- 
scribes the  mob  stopping  carriages,  and  compelling 
their  inmates  to  shout  "  Wilkes  and  liberty  ! "  For 
the  first  fifteen  miles  out  of  London  on  the  Win- 
chester road,  he  says,  and  on  nearly  every  door  or 
window-shutter,  "  No.  45  "  was  chalked.  By  many 
Tory  writers  Wilkes  is  considered  latterly  to  have 
turned  his  coat,  but  he  seems  to  us  to  have  been 
perfectly  consistent  to  the  end.  He  was  always 
a  Whig  with  aristocratic  tastes.  When  oppression 
ceased  he  ceased  to  protest.  Most  men  grow  more 
Conservative  as  their  minds  weaken,  but  Wilkes 
was  always  resolute  for  liberty. 

A  few  anecdotes  of  Wilkes  are  necessary  for 
seasoning  to  our  chapter. 

Home  Tooke  having  challenged  Wilkes,  who 
was  then  sheriff  of  London  and  Middlesex,  received 
the  following  laconic  reply:  "Sir,  I  do  not  think 
it  my  business  to  cut  the  throat  of  every  desperado 
that  may  be  tired  of  his  life ;  but  as  I  am  at  present 
High  Sheriff  of  the  City  of  London,  it  may  shortly 
happen  that  I  shall  have  an  opportunity  of  attending 
you  in  my  civil  capacity,  in  which  case  I  will  answer 
for  it  that  you  shall  have  no  ground  to  complain  of 
my  endeavours  to  serve  you."  This  is  one  of  the 
bitterest  retorts  ever  uttered.  Wilkes's  notoriety 
led  to  his  head  being  painted  as  a  public-house 
sign,  which,  however,  did  not  invariably  raise  the 
original  in  estimation.  An  old  lady,  in  passing  a 
public-house  distinguished  as  above,  her  companion 
called  her  attention  to  the  sign.  "  Ah  !  "  replied 
she,  ''  Wilkes  swings  everywhere  but  where  he 
ought."  Wilkes's  squint  was  proverbial ;  yet  even 
this  natural  obliquity  he  turned  to  humorous 
account.  When  Wilkes  challenged  Lord  Towns- 
hend,  he  said,  "  Your  lordship  is  one  of  the  hand- 
somest men  in  the  kingdom,  and  I  am  one  of  the 
ugliest.    Yet,  give  me  but  half  an  hour's  start,  and  I 


Mayors  of  London.] 


ANECDOTES    OF   ALDERMAN   WILKES. 


411 


will  enter  the  lists  against  you  with  any  woman  you 
choose  to  name." 

Once,  when  the  house  seemed  resolved  not  to 
hear  him,  and  a  friend  urged  him  to  desist — 
"  Speak,"  he  said,  "  I  must,  for  my  speech  has 
been  in  print  for  the  newspapers  this  half-hour." 
Fortunately  for  him,  he  was  gifted  with  a  cool- 
ness and  effrontery  which  were  only  equalled  by 
his  intrepidity,  all  three  of  which  qualities  con- 
stantly served  his  turn  in  the  hour  of  need.  As 
an  instance  of  his  audacity,  it  may  be  stated  that 
on  one  occasion  he  and  another  person  put  forth, 
from  a  private  room  in  a  tavern,  a  proclamation  com- 
mencing— "  We,  the  people  of  England,"  &c.,  and 
concluding — "  By  order  of  the  meeting."  Another 
amusing  instance  of  his  effrontery  occurred  on  the 
hustings  at  Brentford,  when  he  and  Colonel  Lut- 
trell  were  standing  thei-e  together  as  rival  candi- 
dates for  the  representation  of  Middlesex  in  Parlia- 
ment. Looking  down  with  great  apparent  apathy 
on  the  sea  of  human  beings,  consisting  chiefly 
of  his  own  votaries  and  friends,  which  stretched 
beneath  him — "  I  wonder,"  he  whispered  to  his 
opponent,  "  whether  among  that  crowd  the  fools  or 
the  knaves  predominate ? "  "I  will  tell  them  what 
you  say,"  replied  the  astonished  Luttrell,  "  and  thus 
put  an  end  to  you."  Perceiving  that  Wilkes  treated 
the  threat  with  the  most  perfect  indifference — 
"Surely,"  he  added,  ''you  don't  mean  to  say  you 
could  stand  here  one  hour  after  I  did  so  ?  "  "  Why 
not?"  replied  Wilkes;  "it  is  you  who  would  not 
be  alive  one  instant  after."  "  How  so  ?  "  inquired 
Luttrell.  "  Because,"  said  Wilkes,  "  I  should  merely 
affirm  tliat  it  was  a  fabrication,  and  they  would  de- 
stroy you  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye." 

During  his  latter  days  Wilkes  not  only  became 
a  courtier,  but  was  a  frequent  attendant  at  the 
levees  of  George  III.  On  one  of  these  occasions 
the  King  happened  to  inquire  after  his  old  friend 
"  Sergeant  Glynn,"  who  had  been  Wilkes's  counsel 
during  his  former  seditious  proceedings.  "My 
friend,  sir ! "  replied  Wilkes ;  "he  is  no  friend  of 
mine  ;  he  was  a  Wilkite,  sir,  which  I  never  was." 

He  once  dined  with  George  IV.  when  Prince 
of  Wales,  when  overhearing  the  Prince  speak  in 
rather  disparaging  language  of  his  father,  with  whom 
he  was  then  notoriously  on  bad  terms,  he  seized  an 
opportunity  of  proposing  the  health  of  the  King. 
"Why,  Wilkes,"  said  the  Prince,  "how  long  is  it 
since  you  became  so  loyal?"  "Ever  since,  sir," 
was  the  reply,  "  I  had  the  honour  of  becoming 
acquainted  with  your  Royal  Highness." 

Alderman  Sawbridge  (Framework  Knitter),  mayor 
in  1775,  oi^  his  return  from  a  state  visit  to  Kew 
with  all  his  retinue,  was  stopped  and  stripped  by  a 


single  highwayman.       The   sword-bearer   did  not 
even  attempt  to  hew  down  the  robber. 

In  1780,  Alderman  Kennet  (Vintner)  was  mayor 
during  the  Gordon  riots.  He  had  been  a  waiter 
and  then  a  wine  merchant,  was  a  coarse  and 
ignorant  man,  and  displayed  great  incompetence 
during  the  w^eek  the  rioters  literally  held  London. 
When  he  was  summoned  to  the  House,  to  be 
examined  about  the  riots,  one  of  the  members 
observed,  "  If  you  ring  the  bell,  Kennet  will  come 
in,  of  course."  On  being  asked  why  he  did  not 
at  the  outset  send  for  the  posse  comitafus,  he  replied 
he  did  not  know  where  the  fellow  lived,  or  else  he 
would.  One  evening  at  the  Alderman's  Club,  he 
was  sitting  at  whist,  next  Mr.  Alderman  Pugh,  a 
soap-boiler.  "Ring  the  bell,  Soap-suds,"  said 
Kennet.  "Ring  it  yourself.  Bar,"  replied  Pugh; 
"you  have  been  twice  as  much  used  to  it  as  I 
have."  There  is  no  disgrace  in  having  been  a 
soap-boiler  or  a  wane  merchant ;  the  true  disgrace 
is  to  be  ashamed  of  having  carried  on  an  honest 
business. 

Alderman  Clarke  (Joiner),  mayor  in  1784,  suc- 
ceeded Wilkes  as  Chamberlain  in  1798,  and  died 
aged  ninety-two,  in  183 1.  This  City  patriarch  was, 
when  a  mere  boy,  introduced  to  Dr.  Johnson  by  that 
insufferable  man,  Sir  John  Hawkins.  He  met 
Dr.  Percy,  Goldsmith,  and  Hawkesworth,  with  the 
Polyphemus  of  letters,  at  the  "  Mitre."  He  was  a 
member  of  the  Essex  Head  Club.  "When  he 
was  sheriff  in  1777,"  says  Mr.  Timbs,  "he  took  Dr. 
Johnson  to  a  judges'  dinner  at  the  Old  Bailey,  the 
judges  being  Blackstone  and  Eyre."  The  portrait 
of  Chamberlain  Clarke,  in  the  Court  of  Common 
Council  in  Guildhall,  is  by  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence, 
and  cost  one  hundred  guineas.  There  is  also  a 
bust  of  Mr.  Clarke,  by  Sievier,  at  the  Guildhall, 
which  was  paid  for  by  a  subscription  of  the  City 
officers. 

Alderman  Boydell,  mayor  in  1790,  we  have  de- 
scribed fully  elsewhere.  He  presided  over  Cheap 
Ward  for  twenty-three  years.  Nearly  opposite  his 
house,  90,  Cheapside,  is  No.  73,  which,  before 
the  present  Mansion  House  Avas  built,  was  used 
occasionally  as  the  Lord  Mayor's  residence. 

Sir  James  Saunderson  (Draper),  from  whoce 
curious  book  of  official  expenses  w^e  quote  in  our 
chapter  on  the  Mansion  House,  was  mayor  in 
1792.  It  was  this  mayor  who  sent  a  posse  of 
officers  to  disperse  a  radical  meeting  held  at  that 
"  caldron  of  sedition,"  Founders'  Hall,  and  among 
the  persons  expelled  was  a  young  orator  named 
Waithman,  afterwards  himself  a  mayor. 

1795-6  was  made  pleasant  to  the  Londoners 
by  the  abounding  hospitality  of  Sir  William  Curtis, 


412 


OLD   AND    NEW  LONDON. 


[Mayors  of  London. 


a  portly  baronet,  who,  while  he  delighted  in  a 
liberal  feast  and  a  cheerful  glass,  evidently  thought 
them  of  small  value  unless  shared  by  his  friends. 
Many  years  afterwards,  during  the  reign  of  George 
IV.,  whose  good  graces  he  had  secured,  he  went 
to  Scotland  with  the  king,  and  made  Edinburgh 
merry  by  wearing  a  kilt  in  public.  The  wits 
•laughed  at  his  costume,  complete  even  to  the  little 
dagger  in  the  stocking,  but  told  him  he  had  for- 
gotten one  important  thing— the  spoon. 

In  1797,  Sir  Benjamin  Hamet  was  fined  ;^i,ooo 
for  refusing  to  serve  as  mayor. 

1799.  Alderman   Combe,    mayor,    the    brewer, 
whom  some  saucy  citizens  nicknamed  "  Mash-tub." 
But  he  loved  gay  company.      Among  the  members 
at  Brookes's  who  indulged  in  high  play  was  Combe, 
who  is  said  to  have  made  as  much  money  in  this 
way  as  he  did  by  brewing.      One  evening,  whilst 
he  filled  the  office  of  Lord  Mayor,  he  was  busy 
at  a  full  hazard  table  at  Brookes's,  where  the  wit 
and  dice-box  circulated  together  with  great  glee, 
and  where  Beau  Brummel  was  one  of  the  party. 
"Come,  Mash-tub,"  said  Brummel,  who  was  the 
caster,  "  what  do  you  setT    "  Twenty-five  guineas," 
answered  the  alderman.     "Well,  then,"  returned 
the  beau,  "have  at  the  mare's  pony"  (twenty-five 
guineas).     The  beau  continued  to  throw  until  he 
drove  home  the  brewer's  twelve  ponies  running,  and 
then  getting  up  and  making  him  a  low  bow  whilst 
pocketing  the  cash,  he  said,  "  Thank  you,  alder- 
man ;  for  the  future  I  shall  never  drink  any  porter 
but   yours."     "I   wish,    sir,"   replied   the   brewer, 
"that  every  other  blackguard  in  London  would 
tell  me  the  same."     Combe  was  succeeded  in  the 
mayoralty  by  Sir  William  Staines.     They  were  both 
smokers,  and  were  seen  one  night  at  the  Mansion 
House    lighting   their  pipes   at   the   same   taper; 
which  reminds  us  of  the  two  kings  of  Brentford 
smelling  at  one  nosegay.     (Timbs.) 

1800.  Sir  William  Staines,  mayoj;^  He  began 
life  as  a  bricklayer's  labourer,  and  by  persevering 
•  steadily  in  the  pursuit  of  one  object,  accumulated 
a  large  fortune,  and  rose  to  the  state  coach  and  the 
Mansion  House.  He  was  Alderman  of  Cripple- 
gate  Ward,  where  his  memory  is  much  respected. 
In  Jacob's  Well  Passage,  in  1786,  he  built  nine 
houses  for  the  reception  of  his  aged  and  indigent 
friends.  They  are  erected  on  both  sides  of  the 
court,  with  nothing  to  distinguish  them  from  the 
other  dwelling-houses,  and  without  ostentatious 
display  of  stone  or  other  inscription  to  denote  the 
poverty  of  the  inhabitants.  The  early  tenants 
were  aged  workmen,  tradesmen,  &c.,  several^  of 
whom  Staines  had  personally  esteemed  as  his  neigh- 
bpurs.    One,  a  peruke-maker,  had  shaved  the  worthy 


alderman  during  forty  years.      Staines   also   built 
Barbican  Chapel,  and  rebuilt  the  "  Jacob's  Well" 
public-house,  noted   for  dramatic  representations. 
The  alderman  was  an  illiterate  man,  and  was  a  sort 
of  butt  amongst  his  brethren.     At  one  of  the  Old 
Bailey  dinners,  after  a  sumptuous  repast  of  turtle 
and  venison.  Sir  William  was  eating  a  great  quantity 
of  butter  with  his  cheese.     "Why,  brother,"  said 
Wilkes,  "you  lay  it  on  with  a  trowel!''     A  son 
of  Sir  William  Staines,  who  worked  at  his  father's 
business  (a  builder),  fell  from  a  lofty  ladder,  and 
was  killed ;  when  the  father,  on  being  fetched  to 
the   spot,    broke  through  the  crowd,    exclaiming, 
"See  that  the  poor  fellow's  watch  is  safe!"     His 
manners  may  be  judged  from  the  following  anec- 
dote.    At  a   City  feast,   when   sheriff,   sitting  by 
General  Tarleton,    he  thus  addressed  him,    "Eat 
away  at  the  pines,  General  3  for  we  must  pay,  eat 
or  not  eat." 

In  1806,  Sir  James  Shaw  (Scrivener),  afterwards 
Chamberlain,  was  a  native  of  Kilmarnock,  where  a 
marble  statue  of  him  has  been  erected.  He  was  of 
the  humblest  birth,  but  amassed  a  fortune  as  a 
merchant,  and  sat  in  three  parliaments  for  the  City. 
He  was  extremely  charitable,  and  was  one  of  the 
first  to  assist  the  children  of  Burns.  At  one  of  his 
mayoralty  dinners,  seven  sons  of  George  III.  were 

guests. 

Sir  William  Domville  (Stationer),  mayor  in  1814, 
gave  the  great  Guildhall  banquet  to  the  Prince 
Regent  and  the  Allied  Sovereigns  during  the  short 
and  fallacious  peace  before  Waterloo.  The  dinner 
was  served  on  plate  valued  at  ^200,000,  and  the 
entire  entertainment  cost  nearly  ^25,000.  The 
mayor  was  made  baronet  for  this. 

In  1 81 5  reigned  Alderman  Birch,  the  celebrated 
Cornhill  confectioner.  The  business  at  No.  15, 
ComhiU  was  established  by  Mr.  Horton,  in  the 
reign  of  George  I.  Samuel  Birch,  born  in  1787, 
was  for  many  years  a  member  of  the  Common 
Council,  a  City  orator,  an  Alderman  of  the  Ward  of 
Candlewick,  a  poet,  a  dramatic  writer,  and  Colonel 
of  the  City  Militia.  His  pastry  was,  after  all,  the 
best  thing  he  did,  though  he  laid  the  first  stone  of 
the  London  Institution,  and  wrote  the  inscrip- 
tion to  Chantrey's  statue  of  George  III.,  now  in 
the  Council  Chamber,  Guildhall.  "  Mr.  Pattypan  ' 
was  Birch's  nickname. 

Theodore  Hook,  or  some  clever  versifier  of  the 
day,  wrote  an  amusing  skit  on  the  vain,  fussy,  good- 
natured  Jack-of-all-trades,  beginning— 


«'  Monsieur  grown  tired  of  fricassee, 
Resolved  Old  England  now  to  see, 
The  country  where  their  roasted  beef 
/ind  puddings  large  pass  all  belief," 


^layers  of  Londoa  ] 


LORD  MAYORS  POETICAL  AND  POLITICAL. 


413 


Wherever  this  inquisitive  foreigner  goes  he  find 
Monsieur  Birch — 

•'  Guildhall  at  length  in  sight  appears, 
An  orator  is  hailed  with  chcei-s. 
'  Zat  orator,  vat  is  hees  name  ? ' 
'  Birch  the  pastry-cook — the  very  same.'  " 

He  meets  him  again  as  miUtia  colonel,  poet, 
&c.  &c.,  till  he  returns  to  France  believing  Birch 
Emperor  of  London. 

Birch  possessed  considerable  literary  taste,  and 
wrote  poems  and  musical  dramas,  of  which  "  The 
Adopted  Child  "  remained  a  stock  piece  to  our  own 
time.  The  alderman  used  annually  to  send,  as  a 
present,  a  Twelfth-cake  to  the  Mansion  House. 
The  upper  portion  of  the  house  in  Cornhill  has 
been  rebuilt,  but  the  ground-floor  remains  intact, 
a  curious  specimen  of  the  decorated  shop-front  of 
the  last  century  ;  and  here  are  preserved  two  door- 
plates,  inscribed  "  Birch,  successor  to  Mr.  Horton," 
which  are  140  years  old.  Alderman  Birch  died  in 
1840,  having  been  succeeded  in  the  business  in 
Cornhill  in  1836,  by  Ring  and  Brymer. 

In  1816-17,  we  come  to  a  mayor  of  great 
notoriety,  Sir  Matthew  Wood,  a  druggist  in  Falcon 
Square.  He  was  a  Devonshire  man,  who  began  life 
as  a  druggist's  traveller,  and  distinguished  himself  by 
his  exertions  for  poor  persecuted  Queen  Caroline. 
He  served  as  Lord  Mayor  two  successive  years, 
and  represented  the  City  in  nine  parliaments.  His 
baronetcy  was  the  first  title  conferred  by  Queen 
Victoria,  in  1837,  as  a  reward  for  his  pohtical 
exertions.  As  a  namesake  of  "Jemmy  Wood," 
the  miser  banker  of  Gloucester,  he  received  a 
princely  legacy.  The  Vice-Chancellor  Page  Wood 
(Lord  Hatherley)  was  the  mayor's  second  son. 

The  following  sonnet  was  contributed  by  Charles 
and  Mary  Lamb  to  Thelwall's  newspaper,  The 
Champion.  Lamb's  extreme  opinions,  as  here 
enunciated,  were  merely  assumed  to  please  his 
friend  Thelwall,  but  there  seems  a  genuine  tone  in 
his  abuse  of  Canning.  Perhaps  it  dated  from  the 
time  when  the  "player's  son"  had  ridiculed  Southey 
and  Coleridge: — 

Sonnet  to  Matthew  Wood,  Esq.,  Alderman 

AND   M.P. 

"  Hold  on  thy  course  uncheck'd,  heroic  Wood  ! 
Regardless  what  the  player's  son  may  prate, 
St.  Stephen's  fool,  the  zany  of  debate— 
Who  nothing  generous  ever  understood. 
London's  twice  pra;tor  !  scorn  the  fool-born  jest, 
The  stage's  scum,  and  refuse  of  the  players  — 
Stale  topics  against  magistrates  and  mayors- 
City  and  country  both  thy  worth  attest. 
Bid  him  leave  olT  his  shallow  Eton  wit. 
More  fit  to  soothe  the  superficial  ear 
Of  drunken  Titt,  and  lliat  pickpocket  Peer, 


When  at  their  sottish  orgies  they  did  sit. 
Hatching  mad  counsels  from  inflated  vein, 
Till  England  and  the  nations  reeled  with  pain." 

In  181 8-1 9  Alderman  John  Atkins  was  host 
at  the  Mansion  House.  In  early  life  he  had  been 
a  Customs'  tide-waiter,  and  was  not  remarkable  for 
polished  manners ;  but  he  was  a  shrewd  and  worthy 
man,  filling  the  seat  of  justice  with  impartiality, 
and  dispensing  the  hospitality  of  the  City  with  an 
open  hand. 

In  1821  John  Thomas  Thorpe  (Draper),  mayor, 
officiated  as  chief  butler  at  the  coronation  feast  of 
George  IV.  He  and  twelve  assistants  presented  the 
king  wine  in  a  golden  cup,  which  the  king  returned 
as  the  cupbearer's  fees.  Being,  however,  a  violent 
partisan  of  Queen  Caroline,  he  was  not  created  a 
baronet. 

In  1823  we  come  to  another  determined  re- 
former, Alderman  Waithman,  whom  we  have  already 
noticed  in  the  chapter  on  Fleet  Street.  As  a  poor 
lad,  he  was  adopted  by  his  uncle,  a  Bath  linendraper. 
He  began  to  appear  as  a  politician  in  1794.  When 
sheriff"  in  1821,  in  quelling  a  tumult  at  Knights- 
bridge,  he  Avas  in  danger  from  a  Life-guardsman's 
carbine,  and  at  the  funeral  of  Queen  Caroline,  a 
carbine  bullet  passed  through  his  carriage  in  Hyde 
Park.  Many  of  his  resolutions  in  the  Common 
Council  were,  says  Mr.  Timbs,  written  by  Sir 
Richard  Phillips,  the  bookseller. 

Alderman  Garratt  (Goldsmith),  mayor  in  1825, 
laid  the  first  stone  of  London  Bridge,  accompanied 
by  the  Duke  of  York.  At  the  banquet  at  the 
Mansion  House,  360  guests  were  entertained  in 
the  Egyptian  Hall,  and  nearly  200  of  the  Artillery 
Company  in  the  saloon.  The  Monument  was 
illuminated  the  same  night. 

In  1830,  Alderman  Key,  mayor,  roused  great 
indignation  in  the  City,  by  frightening  William  IV., 
and  preventing  his  coming  to  the  Guildhall  dinner. 
The  show  and  inauguration  dinner  were  in  conse- 
quence omitted.  In  1831  Key  was  again  mayor, 
and  on  the  opening  of  London  Bridge  was  created 
a  baronet. 

Sir  Peter  Laurie,  in  1832-3,  though  certainly 
possessing  a  decided  opinion  on  most  political 
questions,  which  he  steadily,  and  no  doubt  honestly 
carried  out,  frequently  incurred  criticism  on  account 
of  his  extreme  views,  and  a  passion  for  "putting 
down  "  what  he  imagined  social  grievances.  He 
lived  to  a  green  old  age.  In  manners  open, 
easy,  and  unassuming ;  in  disposition,  friendly 
and  liberal ;  kind  as  a  master,  and  unaffectedly 
hospitable  as  a  host,  he  gained,  as  he  deserved, 
"  troops  of  friends,"  dying  lamented  and  honoured, 
as  he  had  lived,  respected  and  beloved.     (Aleph.) 


414 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Mayors  of  London. 


When  Sir  Peter  Laurie,  as  Lord  Mayor  of  London, 
entertained  the  judges  and  leaders  of  the  bar,  he 
exclaimed  to  his  guests,  in  an  after-dinner  oration : — 

"See  before  you  the  examples  of  myself,  the 
chief  magistrate  of  this  great  empire,  and  the  Chief 
Justice  of  England  sitting  at  my  right  hand  ;  both 
now  in  the  highest  offices  of  the  state,  and  both 
sprung  from  the  very  dregs  of  i/ie  people  !" 

Although  Lord  Tenterden  possessed  too  much 
natural    dignity  and  truthfulness  to  blush  for  his 


Mr.  Hogg  in  the  business,  became  Alderman  of 
the  Ward  of  Farringdon  Within,  and  served  as 
sheriff  and  mayor,  the  cost  of  which  exceeded  tlie 
fees  and  allowances  by  the  sum  of  ;^  10,000.  He 
lived  upon  the  same  spot  sixty  years,  and  died  in 
his  eighty-fourth  year.  He  was  a  man  of  active 
benevolence,  and  reminded  one  of  the  pious  Lord 
Mayor,  Sir  Thomas  Abney.  He  composed  some 
prayers  for  his  own  use,  which  were  subsequently 
printed  for  private  distribution.     (Timbs.) 


birch's  shop,  cornhill  (see  page  412). 


humble  origin,  he  winced  at  hearing  his  excellent 
mother  and  her  worthy  husband,  the  Canterbury 
wig-maker,  thus  described  as  belonging  to  "the 
very  dregs  of  the  people." 

1837.  Alderman  Kelly,  Lord  Mayor  at  the  ac- 
cession of  her  Majesty,  was  born  at  Chevening,  in 
Kent,  and  lived,  when  a  youth,  with  Alexander 
Hogg,  the  publisher,  in  Paternoster  Row,  for  ;^  10 
a  year  wages.  He  slept  under  the  shop-counter 
for  the  security  of  the  premises.  He  was  reported 
by  his  master  to  be  "  too  slow "  for  the  situation. 
Mr.  Hogg,  however,  thought  him  "  a  bidable  boy," 
and  he  remained.  This  incident  shows  upon  what 
apparently  trifling  circumstances  sometimes  a  man's 
future   prospects   depend.     Mr.    Kelly   succeeded 


Sir  John  Cowan  (Wax  Chandler),  mayor  in  1838, 
was  created  a  baronet  after  having  entertained  the 
Queen  at  his  mayoralty  dinner. 

1839.  Sir  Chapman  Marshall,  mayor.  He  re- 
ceived knighthood  when  sheriff,  in  1831 ;  and  at 
a  public  dinner  of  the  friends  and  supporters  of 
the  Metropolitan  Charity  Schools,  he  addressed 
the  company  as  follows  : — "  My  Lord  Mayor  and 
gentlemen, — I  want  words  to  express  the  emotions 
of  my  heart.  You  see  before  you  a  humble  in- 
dividual who  has  been  educated  at  a  parochial 
school.  I  came  to  London  in  1803,  without  a 
shilling,  without  a  friend.  I  have  not  had  the 
benefit  of  a  classical  education  ;  but  this  I  will  say, 
my  Lord  Mayor  and  gentlemen,  that  you  witness 


Mayors  of  London.] 


LORD   MAYOR  KELLY. 


415 


4i6 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


tTho  Poultry. 


in  me  what  may  be  done  by  the  earnest  application 
of  honest  industry ;  and  I  trust  that  my  example 
may  induce  others  to  aspire,  by  the  same  means, 
to  the  distinguished  situation  which  I  have  now 
the  honour  to  fill."  Self-made  men  are  too  fond 
of  such  glorifications,  and  forget  how  much  wealth 
depends  on  good  fortune  and  opportunity. 

1839.  Alderman  Wilson,  mayor,  signaHsed  his 
year  of  office  by  giving,  in  the  Egyptian  Hall,  a 
banquet  to  117  connections  of  the  Wilson  family 
being  above  the  age  of  nine  years.  At  this  family 
festival,  the  usual  civic  state  and  ceremonial  were 
maintained,  the  sword  and  mace  borne,  &c. ;  but 
after  the  loving  cup  had  been  passed  round,  the 
attendants  were  dismissed,  in  order  that  the  free 
family  intercourse  might  not  be  restricted  during 
the  remainder  of  the  evening.  A  large  number  of 
the  Wilson  family,  including  the  alderman  himself, 
have  grown  rich  in  the  silk  trade.     (Timbs.) 

In  1842,  Sir  John  Pirie,  mayor,  the  Royal  Ex- 
change was  commenced.  Baronetcy  received  on 
the  christening  of  the  Prince  of  Wales.  At  his 
inauguration  dinner  at  Guildhall,  Sir  John  said : 
"  I  little  thought,  forty  years  ago,  when  I  came  to 
London  a  poor  lad  from  the  banks  of  the  Tweed, 
that  I  should  ever  arrive  at  so  great  a  distinction." 
In  his  mayoralty  show,  Pirie,  being  a  shipowner, 
added  to  the  procession  a  model  of  a  large  East 
Indiaman,  fully  rigged  and  manned,  and  drawn  in 
a  car  by  six  horses.     (Aleph.) 

Alderman  Farncomb  (Tallow-chandler),  mayor 
in  1849,  was  one  of  the  great  promoters  of  the 
Great  Exhibition  of  1851,  that  Fair  of  all  Nations 
which  was  to  bring  about  universal  peace,  and 
wrap  the  globe  in  English  cotton.  He  gave  a 
grand  banquet  at  the  Mansion  House  to  Prince 
Albert  and  a  host  of  provincial  mayors;  and 
Prince  Albert  explained  his  views  about  his  hobby 
in  his  usual  calm  and  sensible  way. 

In  1850  Sir  John  Musgrove  (Clothworker),  at 


the  suggestion  of  Mr.  G.  Godwin,  arranged  a  show 
on  more  than  usually  Ksthetic  principles.  There 
was  Peace  with  her  olive-branch,  the  four  quarters 
of  the  world,  with  camels,  deer,  elephants,  negroes, 
beehives,  a  ship  in  full  sail,  an  allegorical  car, 
drawn  by  six  horses,  with  Britannia  on  a  throne 
and  Happiness  at  her  feet;  and  great  was  the 
delight  of  the  mob  at  the  gratuitous  splendour. 

Alderman  Salomons  (1855)  was  the  first  Jewish 
Lord  Mayor — a  laudable  proof  of  the  increased 
toleration  of  our  age.  This  mayor  proved  a  liberal 
and  active  magistrate,  who  repressed  the  mis- 
chievous and  unmeaning  Guy  Fawkes  rejoicings, 
and  through  the  exertions  of  the  City  Solicitor, 
persuaded  the  Common  Council  to  at  last  erase 
the  absurd  inscription  on  the  Monument,  which 
attributed  the  Fire  of  London  to  a  Roman  Catholic 
conspiracy. 

Alderman  Rose,  mayor  in  1862  (Spectacle- 
maker),  an  active  encourager  of  the  useful  and 
manly  volunteer  movement,  had  the  honour  of 
entertaining  the  Prince  of  Wales  and  his  beautiful 
Danish  bride  at  a  Guildhall  banquet,  soon  after 
their  marriage.  The  festivities  (including  ;^  10,000 
i  for  a  diamond  necklace)  cost  the  Corporation  some 
;^6o,ooo.  The  alderman  was  knighted  in  1867. 
He  was  (says  Mr.  Timbs)  Alderman  of  Queenhithe, 
living  in  the  same  row  where  three  mayors  of  our 
time  have  resided. 

Alderman  Lawrence,  mayor  in  1863-4.  His 
father  and  brother  were  both  aldermen,  and  all 
three  were  in  turns  Sheriff  of  London  and  Middle- 
sex. Alderman  Phillips  (Spectacle-maker),  mayor 
in  1865,  was  the  second  Jewish  Lord  Mayor,  and 
the  first  Jew  admitted  into  the  municipality  of 
London.  This  gentleman,  of  Prussian  descent, 
had  the  honour  of  entertaining,  at  the  Mansion 
House,  the  Prince  of  Wales  and  the  King  and 
Queen  of  the  Belgians,  and  was  knighted  at  the 
close  of  his  mayoralty. 


CHAPTER      XXXVI. 

THE    POULTRY. 

The  Early  Home  of"  the  I,ondon  Poulterers— Its  Mysterious  Desertion — Noteworthy  Sites  in  the  Poultry— The  Birthplace  of  Tom  Hood,  Senior— 
A  Pretty  Quarrel  at  the  Rose  Tavern — A  Costly  Sign-board — The  Three  Cranes — The  Home  of  the  Dillys — Johnsoniana — St.  Mildreds 
Church,  Poultry — Quaint  Epitaphs— The  Poultry  Compter — Attack  on  Dr.  Lamb,  the  Conjurer — Dekker,  the  Dramatist — Ned  Ward's 
Description  of  the  Compter — Granville  Sharp  and  the  Slave  Trade— Important  Decision  in  favour  of  the  Slave — Boyse — Dunton. 


The  busy  street  extending  between  Cheapside  and 
Cornhill  is  described  by  Stow  (Queen  Elizabeth)  as 
the  special  quarter,  almost  up  to  his  time,  of 
the  London  poulterers,  who  sent  their  fowls  and 
feathered  game  to  be  prepared  in  Scalding  Alley 


(anciently  called  Scalding  House,  or  Scalding  Wikc). 
The  pluckers  and  scorchers  of  the  feathered  fowl 
occupied  the  shops  between  the  Stocks'  Market 
(now  the  Mansion  House)  and  the  Great  Conduit. 
Just   before  Stow's  time   the  poulterers   seem   to 


The  Poultry.] 


A  SWEET  POET  AND  A  PLEASANT  TAVERN. 


417 


have  taken  wing  in  a  unanimous  covey,  and  settled 
down,  for  reasons  now  unknown  to  us;  and  not 
very  material  to  any  one,  in  Gracious  (Gracechurch) 
Street,  and  the  end  of  St.  Nicholas  flesh  shambles 
(now  Newgate  Market).  Poultry  was  not  worth  its 
weight  in  silver  then. 

The  chief  points  of  interest  in  the  street  (past 
and  present)  are  the  Compter  Prison,  Grocers' 
Hall,  Old  Jewry,  and  several  shops  with  memorable 
associations.  Lubbock's  Banking  House,  for  in- 
stance, is  leased  of  the  Goldsmiths'  Company, 
being  part  of  Sir  Martin  Bowes'  bequest  to  the 
Company  in  Elizabeth's  time.  Sir  Martin  Bowes 
we  have  already  mentioned  in  our  chapter  on  the 
Goldsmiths'  Company. 

The  name  of  one  of  our  greatest  English  wits  is 
indissolubly  connected  with  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  Poultry.    It  falls  like  a  cracker,  with  merry  bang 
and  sparkle,  among  the  graver  histories  with  which 
this  great  street  is  associated.    Tom  Hood  was  the 
son  of  a  Scotch  bookseller  in  the  Poultry.     The 
firm  was  "  Vernor  and  Hood."    "  Mr.  Plood,"  says 
Mrs.  Broderip,  "  was  one  of  the  '  Associated  Book- 
sellers,' who  selected  valuable  old  books  for  re- 
printing, with  great  success.     Messrs.  Vernor  and 
Hood,  when  they  moved  to  31,  Poultry,  took  into 
partnership  Mr.  C.  Sharpe.     The  firm  of  Messrs. 
Vernor   and    Hood   published  'The    Beauties    of 
England   and  Wales,'   'The  Mirror,'   Bloomfield's 
poems,  and  those  of  Henry  Kirke  White."     At  this 
house  in  the  Poultry,  as  far  as  we  can  trace,  in 
the  year  1799,  was  born  his  second  son,  Thomas. 
After  the  sudden  death  of  the  father,  the  widow 
and  her  children  were  left  rather  slenderly  provided 
for.     "  My  father,  the  only  remaining  son,  preferred 
the  drudgery  of  an  engraver's  desk  to  encroaching 
upon  the  small  family  store.     He  was  articled  to 
his  uncle,  Mr.  Sands,  and  subsequently  was  trans- 
ferred to  one  of  the  Le  Keux.     He  was  a  most 
devoted   and   excellent   son   to   his   mother,    and 
the    last    days    of-  her    widowhood    and    decline 
were   soothed  by  his  tender  care  and   aff'ection. 
An  opening  that  off'ered  more  congenial  employ- 
ment presented  itself  at  last,  when  he  was  about 
the  age  of  twenty-one.     By  the  death  of  Mr.  Johri 
Scott,    the    editor    of   the    'London    Magazine,' 
who  was  killed  in  a  duel,  that  periodical  passed 
into  other  hands,  and  became  the  property  of  my 
father's  friends,  Messrs.  Taylor  and  Hessey.     The 
new  proprietors  soon  sent  for  him,  and  he  became 
a  sort  of   sub-editor  to  the   magazine."     Of  this 
period  of  his  life  he  says  himself: — 

"  Time  was  when  I  sat  \ipon  a  lofty  stool, 
At  lefty  desk,  and  with  a  clerkly  pen, 
Began  each  morning,  at  the  stroke  of  ten. 


To  write  to  Bell  and  Co.  's  commercial  school, 
In  Warneford  Court,  a  shady  nook  and  cool, 
The  favourite  retreat  of  merchant  men. 
Yet  would  my  quill  turn  vagrant,  even  then,  , 

And  take  stray  dips  in  the  Castalian  pool ; 
Now  double  entry — now  a  flowery  trope- 
Mingling  poetic  honey  with  trade  wax  ; 
Blogg  Brothers— Milton— Grote  and  Prescott— Pope, 
Bristles  and  Hogg— Glynn,  Mills,  and  Halifax- 
Rogers  and  Towgood— hemp— the  Bard  of  Hope — 
Barilla— Byron— tallow — Bums  and  flax." 

The  "King's  Head"  Tavern  (No.  25)  was  kept 
at  the  Restoration  by  William  King,  a  staunch 
cavalier.  It  is  said  that  the  landlord's  wife  hap- 
pened to  be  on  the  point  of  labour  on  the  day 
of  the  king's  entry  into  London.  She  was  ex- 
tremely anxious  to  see  the  returning  monarch,  and 
the  king,  being  told  of  her  inclination,  drew  up  at 
the  door  of  the  tavern  in  his  good-natured  way, 
and  saluted  her. 

The  King's  Head  Tavern,  which  stood  at  the 
western  extremity  of  the  Stocks'  Market,  was  not  at 
first  known  by  the  sign  of  the  "  King's  Head,"  but 
the  "Rose."     Machin,  in  his  diary,  Jan.  5,  1560, 
thus  mentions  it :— "  A  gentleman  arrested  for  debt : 
Master  Cobham,  with  divers  gentlemen  and  serving 
men,  took  him  from  the  ofiicers,  and  carried  him  to 
the  Rose  Tavern,  where  so  great  a  fray,  both  the 
sheriffs   were   fain  to  come,  and  from    tlie    Rose 
Tavern  took  all  the  gentlemen  and  their  servants, 
and  carried  them  to  the  Compter."     The  house  was 
distinguished  by  the  device  of  a  large,  well-painted 
rose,  erected  over  a  doorway,  which  was  the  only 
indication  in  the  street  of  such  an  establishment. 
Ned  Ward,  that  coarse  observer,  in  the  "  London 
Spy,"    1709,  describes   the   "Rose,"  anciently   the 
"Rose   and    Crown,"  as   famous  for   good   wine. 
"  There  was  no  parting,"  he  says,  "  without  a  glass ; 
so  we  went  into  the  Rose  Tavern  in  the  Poultry, 
where  the  wine,  according  to  its  merit,  had  justly 
gained  a  reputation ;    and  there,  in  a  snug  room, 
warmed  with  brush  and   faggot,  over  a  quart    of 
good  claret,  we  laughed  over  our  night's  adventure. 
The   tavern   door    was    flanked    by  two   columns 
twisted  with  vines  carved  in  wood,  which  supported 
a  small  square  gallery  over  the  portico,  surrounded 
by   handsome   ironwork.       On   the   front   of  this 
gallery  was  erected  the  sign.      It  consisted  of  a 
central  compartment  containing  the  Rose,  behind 
which  the  artist  had  introduced  a  tall  silver  cup, 
called  "a  standing  bowl,"  with  drinking  glasses. 
Beneath  the  painting  was  this  inscription  : — 

"This  is 

The  Rose  Tavern, 

Kept  by 

William  King, 

Citizen  and  Vintner. 


4i8 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Poultry. 


This  Taveme's  like  its  sign — a  lustie  Rose, 
A  sight  of  joy  that  sweetness  doth  enclose  ; 
The  daintie  Flow're  well  pictur'd  here  is  scene, 
But  for  its  rarest  sweets — come,  searche  within  !" 

About  the  time  that  King  altered  his  sign  we 
find  the  authorities  of  St.  Peter-upon-Cornhill  deter- 
mining "  That  the  King's  Arms,  in  painted  glass, 
should  be  refreshed,  and  forthwith  be  set  up  (in 
one  of  their  church  windows)  by  the  churchwarden 
at  the  parish  charges ;  with  whatsoever  he  giveth 
to  the  glazier  as  a  gratuity." 

The  sign  appears  to  have  been  a  costly  work,  since 
there  was  the  fragment  of  a  leaf  of  an  old  account- 
book  found  when  the  ruins  of  the  house  were 
cleared  after  the  Great  Fire,  on  which  were  written 
these  entries  : — "  P''.  to  Hoggestreete,  the  Duche 
paynter,  for  y^  picture  of  a  Rose,  w"*  a  Standing- 
bowle  and  glasses,  for  a  signe,  xx  //.,  besides  diners 
and  drinkings ;  also  for  a  large  table  of  walnut-tree, 
for  a  frame,  and  for  iron-worke  and  hanging  the 
picture,  v  //."  The  artist  who  is  referred  to  in  this 
memorandum  could  be  no  other  than  Samuel  Van 
Hoogstraten,  a  painter  of  the  middle  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  whose  works  in  England  are  very 
rare.  He  was  one  of  the  many  excellent  artists  of 
the  period,  who,  as  Walpole  contemptuously  says, 
"painted  still  life,  oranges  and  lemons,  plate, 
damask  curtains,  cloth  of  gold,  and  that  medley 
of  familiar  objects  that  strike  the  ignorant  vulgar." 
At  a  subsequent  date  the  landlord  wrote  under 
the  sign — 

*•  Gallants,  rejoice  !     This  flow're  is  now  fuU-blowne  ! 
'Tis  a  Rose-Noble  better'd  by  a  crowne  ; 
All  you  who  love  the  emblem  and  the  signe, 
Enter,  and  prove  our  loyaltie  and  wine." 

The  tavern  was  rebuilt  after  the  Great  Fire,  and 
flourished  many  years.  It  was  long  a  depot  in  the 
metropolis  for  turtle  ;  and  in  the  quadrangle  of  the 
tavern  might  be  seen  scores  of  turtle,  large  and 
lively,  in  huge  tanks  of  water  ;  or  laid  upward  on 
the  stone  floor,  ready  for  their  destination.  The 
tavern  was  also  noted  for  large  dinners  of  the  City 
Companies  and  other  public  bodies.  The  house 
was  refitted  in  1852,  but  has  since  been  pulled 
down.     (Timbs. ) 

Anothernoted  Poultry  Tavern  was  the  ** Three 
Cranes,"  destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire,  but  rebuilt  and 
noticed  in  1698,  in  one  of  the  many  paper  con- 
troversies of  that  day.  A  fulminating  pamphlet, 
entided  "  Ecclesia  et  Factio  :  a  Dialogue  between 
Bow  Church  Steeple  and  the  Exchange  Grass- 
] hopper,"  elicited  "An  Answer  to  the  Dragon  and 
Grasshopper;  in  a  Dialogue  between  an  Old 
Monkey  and  a  Young  Weasel,  at  the  Three  Cranes 
Tavern,  in  the  Poultry." 


No.  22  was  the  house  of  Johnson's  friends, 
Edward  and  Charles  Dilly,  the  booksellers.  Here^ 
in  the  year  1773,  Boswell  and  Johnson  dined  with 
the  Dillys,  Goldsmith,  Langton,  and  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Toplady.  The  conversation  was  of  excellent 
quality,  and  Boswell  devotes  many  pages  to  it. 
They  discussed  the  emigration  and  nidification  of 
birds,  on  which  subjects  Goldsmith  seems  to  have 
been  deeply  interested ;  the  bread-fruit  of  Otaheite, 
which  Johnson,  who  had  never  tasted  it,  considered 
surpassed  by  a  slice  of  the  loaf  before  him  ;  tolera- 
tion, and  the  early  martyrs.  On  this  last  subject, 
Dr.  Mayo,  "  the  literary  anvil,"  as  he  was  called' 
because  he  bore  Johnson's  hardest  blows  witliout 
flinching,  held  out  boldly  for  unlimited  toleration ; 
Johnson  for  Baxter's  principle  of  only  ".tolerating 
all  things  that  are  tolerable,"  which  is  no  toleration 
at  all.  Goldsmith,  unable  to  get  a  word  in,  and 
overpowered  by  the  voice  of  the  great  Polyphemus, 
grew  at  last  vexed,  and  said  petulantly  to  Johnson, 
who  he  thought  had  interrupted  poor  Toplady,  "  Sir, 
the  gentleman  has  heard  you  patiently  for  an  hour ; 
pray  allow  us  now  to  hear  him."  Johnson  replied, 
sternly,  "Sir,  I  was  not  interrupting  the  gentleman; 
I  was  only  giving  him  a  signal  proof  of  my  atten- 
tion.    Sir,  you  are  impertinent." 

Johnson,  Boswell,  and  Langton  presently  ad- 
journed to  the  club,  where  they  found  Burke, 
Garrick,  and  Goldsmith,  the  latter  still  brooding 
over  his  sharp  reprimand  at  Dilly's.  Johnson, 
magnanimous  as  a  lion,  at  once  said  aside  to 
Boswell,  "Pll  make  Goldsmith  forgive  me."  Then 
calling  to  the  poet,  in  a  loud  voice  he  said,  "  Dr. 
Goldsmith,  something  passed  to-day  where  you  and 
I  dined ;  I  ask  your  pardon." 

Goldsmith,  touched  with  this,  replied,  "  It  must 
be  much  from  you,  sir,  that  I  take  ill  "—became 
himself,  "and  rattled  away  as  usual."  Would 
Goldy  have  rattled  away  so  had  he  known  what 
Johnson,  Boswell,  and  Langton  had  said  about  him 
as  they  walked  up  Cheapside  ?  Langton  had  ob- 
served that  the  poet  was  not  like  Addison,  wlio, 
content  with  his  fame  as  a  writer,  did  not  attempt 
a  share  in  conversation  ;  to  which  Boswell  added, 
that  Goldsmith  had  a  great  deal  of  gold  in  his 
cabinet,  but,  not  content  with  that,  was  always 
pulling  out  his  purse.  "Yes,  sir,"  struck  in 
Johnson,  "  and  that  is  often  an  empty  purse." 

In  1776  we  find  Boswell  skilfully  decoying  his 
great  idol  to  dinner  at  the  Dillys  to  meet  the 
notorious  "Jack  Wilkes."  To  Boswell's  horror, 
when  he  went  to  fetch  Johnson,  he  found  him 
covered  with  dust,  and  buffeting  some  books,  having 
forgotten  all  about  the  dinner  party.  A  little 
coaxing,  however,  soon  won  him  over;  Johnson 


The  Poultry.] 


THE  DEMAGOGUE  AND   "THE  BEAR." 


419 


roared  out,  "Frank,  a  clean  shirt!"  and  was  soon 
packed  into  a  hackney  coach.  On  discovering  "  a 
certain  gentleman  in  lace,"  and  he  Wilkes  the 
demagogue,  Johnson  was  at  first  somewhat  dis- 
concerted, but  soon  recovered  himself,  and  behaved 
like  a  man  of  the  world.  Wilkes  quickly  won  the 
great  man. 

They  soon  set  to  work  discussing  Foote's  wit, 
and  Johnson  confessed  that,  though  resolved  not  to 
be  pleased,  he  had  once  at  a  dinner-party  been 
obliged  to  lay  down  his  knife  and  fork,  throw 
himself  back  in  his  chair,  and  fairly  laugh  it  out — 
"  The  dog  was  so  comical,  sir :  he  was  irresistible." 
Wilkes  and  Johnson  then  fell  to  bantering  the 
Scotch;  Burke  complimented  Boswell  on  his  suc- 
cessful stroke  of  diplomacy  in  bringing  Johnson 
and  Wilkes  together. 

Mr.  Wilkes  placed  himself  next  to  Dr.  Johnson, 
and  behaved  to  him  with  so  much  attention  and 
politeness,  that  he  gained  upon  him  insensibly. 
No  man  ate  more  heartily  than  Johnson,  or  loved 
better  what  was  nice  and  delicate.  Mr.  Wilkes 
was  very  assiduous  in  helping  him  to  some  fine 
veal.  "  Pray  give  me  leave,  sir — it  is  better  there 
— a  little  of  the  brown — some  fat,  sir — a  little  of 
the  stuffing — some  gravy — let  me  have  the  pleasure 
of  giving  you  some  butter — allow  me  to  recommend 
a  squeeze  of  this  orange ;  or  the  lemon,  perhaps, 
may  have  more  zest."  "  Sir — sir,  I  am  obliged  to 
you,  sir,"  cried  Johnson,  bowing,  and  turning  his 
head  to  him  with  a  look  for  some  time  of  "  surly 
virtue,"  but,  in  a  short  while,  of  complacency. 

But  the  most  memorable  evening  recorded  at 
Dilly's  was  April  15,  1778,  when  Johnson  and 
Boswell  dined  there,  and  met  Miss  Seward,  the 
Lichfield  poetess,  and  Mrs.  Knowles,  a  clever 
Quaker  lady,  who  for  once  overcame  the  giant  of 
Bolt  Court  in  argument.  Before  dinner  Johnson 
took  up  a  book,  and  read  it  ravenously.  "  He 
knows  how  to  read  it  better,"  said  Mrs.  Knowles  to 
Boswell,  "  than  any  one.  He  gets  at  the  substance 
of  a  book  directly.  He  tears  out  the  heart  of  it." 
At  dinner  Johnson  told  Dilly  that,  if  he  wrote  a 
book  on  cookery,  it  should  be  based  on  philo- 
sophical principles.  "  Women,"  he  said,  contemp- 
tuously, "  can  spin,  but  they  cannot  make  a  good 
book  of  cookery." 

They  then  fell  to  talking  of  a  ghost  that  had 
appeared  at  Newcastle,  and  had  recommended 
some  person  to  apply  to  an  attorney.  Johnson 
thought  the  Wesleys  had  not  taken  pains  enough 
in  collecting  evidence,  at  which  Miss  Seward 
smiled.  This  vexed  the  superstitious  sage  of  Fleet 
Street,  and  he  said,  with  solemn  vehemence,  "  Yes, 
ma'am,  this  is  a  question  which,  after  five  thousand 


years,  is  yet  undecided;  a  question,  whether  in 
theology  or  philosophy,  one  of  the  most  important 
that  can  come  before  the  human  understanding." 

Johnson,  who  during  the  evening  had  been  very 
thunderous  at  intervals,  breaking  out  against  the 
Americans,  describing  them  as  "  rascals,  robbers, 
and  pirates,"  and  declaring  he  would  destroy  them 
all — as  Boswell  says,  "  He  roared  out  a  tremen- 
dous volley  which  one  might  fancy  could  be  heard 
across  the  Atlantic,"  &c. — grew  very  angry  at  Mrs, 
Knowles  for  noticing  his  unkindness  to  Miss  Jane 
Barry,  a  recent  convert  to  Quakerism. 

"  We  remained,"  says  Boswell,  writing  with 
awe,  like  a  man  who  has  survived  an  earthquake, 
"  together  till  it  was  very  late.  Notwithstanding 
occasional  explosions  of  violence,  we  were  all 
delighted  upon  the  whole  with  Johnson,  I  com- 
pared him  at  the  time  to  a  warm  West  Indian 
climate,  where  you  have  a  bright  sun,  quick  vege- 
tation, luxurious  foliage,  luscious  fruits,  but  where 
the  same  heat  sometimes  produces  thunder,  light- 
ning, and  earthquakes  in  a  terrible  degree." 

St.  Mildred's  Church,  Poultry,  is  a  rectory  situate 
at  the  corner  of  Scalding  Alley,  John  de  Asswell 
was  collated  thereto  in  the  year  1325.  To  this 
church  anciently  belonged  the  chapel  of  Corpus 
Christi  and  St.  Mary,  at  the  end  of  Conyhoop  Lane, 
or  Grocers'  Alley,  in  the  Poultry.  The  patronage 
of  this  church  was  in  the  prior  and  canons  of  St. 
Mary  Overie's  in  Southwark  till  their  suppression. 
This  church  was  consumed  in  the  Great  Fire,  anno 
1666,  and  then  rebuilt,  the  parish  of  St.  Mary  Cole 
being  thereunto  annexed.  Among  the  monu- 
mental inscriptions  in  this  church,  Maitland  gives 
the  following  on  the  well-known  Thomas  Tusser, 
of  Elizabeth's  reign,  who  wrote  a  quaint  poem  on 
a  farmer's  life  and  duties  : — 

"  Here  Thomas  Tusser,  clad  in  earth,  doth  lie, 
That  some  time  made  the  points  of  husbandrie. 
By  him  then  learne  thou  maist,  here  learne  we  must, 
"When  all  is  done  we  sleep  and  turn  to  dust. 
And  yet  through  Christ  to  heaven  we  hope  to  goe, 
Who  reads  his  bookes  shall  find  his  faith  was  so. 

Among  the  curious  epitaphs  in  St.  Mildred's, 
Stow  mentions  the  following,  which  is  worth 
quoting  here  : — 

"Here  lies  ruried  Thomas  Iken,  Skinner. 
"In  Hodnet  and  London 
God  blessed  my  life, 
Till  forty  and  sixe  yeeres, 

With  children  and  wife  ; 
And  God  will  raise  me 

Up  to  life  againe, 
Therefore  have  I  thought 
My  death  no  paine." 


420 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Poultry 


A   fair  monument  of  Queen  Elizabeth  had  on 
the  sides  the  following  verses  inscribed : — 

"  If  prayers  or  tears 

Of  subjects  had  prevailed, 
To  save  a  princesse 

Through  the  world  esteemed  j 
Then  Atropos 


Netherlands'  Reliefe  ; 
Heaven's  gem,  earth's  joy. 

World's  wonder.  Nature's  chief. 
Britaine's  blessing,  England's  splendour. 
Religion's  Nurse,  the  Faith's  Defender." 

The  Poultry  Compter,  on  the  site  of  the  present 
Grocers'  Alley,  was  one  of  the  old  sheriffs  prisons 


JOHN    WILKES.      {From  an  Anl/iciitic  Portrait.) 


In  cutting  here  had  fail'd, 
And  had  not  cut  her  thread, 

But  been  redeem'd  ; 
But  pale-faced  Death  ; 

And  cruel  churlish  Fate, 
To  prince  and  people 

Brings  the  latest  date. 
Yet  spight  of  Death  and  Fate, 

Fame  will  display 
Her  gracious  virtues 

Through  the  world  for  aye, 
Spain's  Rod,  Rome's  Ruine, 


pulled  down  in  1817,  replaced  soon  after  by  a 
chapel.  Stow  mentions  the  prison  as  four  houses 
west  from  the  parish  of  St.  Mildred,  and  describes 
it  as  having  been  "there  kept  and  continued  time 
out  of  mind,  for  I  have  not  read  the  original 
hereof."  "  It  was  the  only  prison,"  says  Mr.  Peter 
Cimningham,  "with  a  ward  set  apart  for  Jews 
(probably  from  its  vicinity  to  Old  Jewry),  and  it 
was  the  only  prison  in  London  left  unattacked  by 
Lord  George  Gordon's  blue  cockaded  rioters  in 


The  Poultry.] 


THE  POULTRY  COMPTER. 


421 


1780."  This  may  have  arisen  from  secret  instruc- 
tions of  Lord  George,  who  had  sympathies  for  the 
Jews,  and  eventually  became  one  himself.  Middle- 
ton,  1607  (James  L),  speaks  ill  of  it  in  his  play  of 
the  Phcefiix,  for  prisons  at  that  time  were  places 
of  cruelty  and  extortion,  and  schools  of  villainy. 


that  Dr.  Lamb,  the  conjurer,  died,  after  being 
nearly  torn  to  pieces  by  the  mob.  He  was  a 
creature  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  and  had 
been  accused  of  bewitching  Lord  Windsor.  On 
the  1 8th  of  June  Lamb  was  insulted  in  the  City 
by  a  few  boys,  who  soon  after  being  increased 


THE  POULTRY  COMPTER.     (From  an  Old  Print.) 


The  great  playwright  makes  his  "  first  officer  "  say, 
"  We  have  been  scholars,  I  can  tell  you — we  could 
not  have  been  knaves  so  soon  else ;  for  as  in  that 
notable  city  called  London,  stand  two  most  famous 
universities.  Poultry  and  Wood  St.,  where  some  are 
of  twenty  years  standing,  and  have  took  all  their 
degrees,  from  the  master's  side,  down  to  the 
mistress's  side,  so  in  like  manner,"  &c. 

It  was  at  this  prison,  in  the  reign  of  Chades  I., 


by  the  acceding  multitude,  they  surrounded  him 
with  bitter  invectives,  which  obliged  him  to  seek 
refuge  in  a  tavern  in  the  Old  Jewry ;  but  the  tumult 
continuing  to  increase,  the  vintner,  for  his  own 
safety,  judged  it  proper  to  turn  him  out  of  the 
house,  whereupon  the  mob  renewed  their  exclama- 
tions against  him,  with  the  appellations  of  "wizard," 
"conjuror,"  and  "devil."  But  at  last,  perceiving 
the  approach  of  a  guard,  sent  by  the  Lord  Mayor 


422 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Poultry. 


to  his  rescue,  they  fell  upon  and  beat  the  doctor  in 
such  a  cmel  and  barbarous  manner,  that  he  was  by 
the  said  guard  taken  up  for  dead,  and  carried  to 
the  Compter,  where  he  soon  after  expired.  "  But 
the  author  of  a  treatise,  entitled  '  The  Forfeiture  of 
the  City  Charters,"'  says  Maitland,  "gives  a  different 
account  of  this  affair,  and,  fixing  the  scene  of  this 
tragedy  on  tlie  14th  of  July,  writes,  that  as  the 
doctor  passed  through  Cheapside,  he  was  attacked 
as  above  mentioned,  which  forced  him  to  seek  a 
retreat  down  Wood  Street,  and  that  he  was  there 
screened  from  the  fury  of  the  mob  in  a  house,  till 
they  had  broken  all  the  windows,  and  forced  the 
door ;  and  then,  no  help  coming  to  the  relief  of  the 
doctor,  the  housekeeper  was  obliged  to  deliver  him 
up  to,  save  the  spoiHng  of  his  goods. 

"  When  the  rabble  had  got  him  into  their  hands, 
some  took  him  by  the  legs,  and  others  by  the 
arms,  and  so  dragging  him  along  the  streets,  cried, 
'Lamb,  Lamb,  the  conjuror,  the  conjuror  !'  every 
one  kicking  and  striking  him  that  were  nearest. 

"Whilst  this  tumult  lasted,  and  the  City  was  in  an 
uproar,  the  news  of  what  had  passed  came  to  the 
king's  ear,  who  immediately  ordered  his  guards  to 
make  ready,  and,  taking  some  of  the  chief  nobility, 
he  came  in  person  to  appease  the  tumult.  In  St. 
Paul's  Clnirchyard  he  met  the  inhuman  villains 
dragging  the  doctor  along ;  and  after  the  knight- 
marshal  had  proclaimed  silence,  who  was  but  ill 
obeyed,  the  king,  like  a  good  prince,  mildly 
exhorted  and  persuaded  them  to  keep  his  peace, 
and  deliver  up  the  doctor  to  be  tried  according  to 
law ;  and  that  if  his  offence,  which  they  charged 
him  with,  should  appear,  he  should  be  punished 
accordingly ;  commanding  them  to  disperse  and 
depart  every  man  to  his  own  home.  But  the 
insolent  varlets  answered,  that  they  had  judged 
him  already ;  and  thereupon  pulled  him  limb  from 
limb;  or,  at  least,  so  dislocated  his  joints,  that 
he  instantly  died." 

This  took  place  just  before  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham's assassination  by  Felton,  in  1628.  The  king, 
very  much  enraged  at  the  treatment  of  Lamb,  and 
the  non-discovery  of  the  real  offenders,  extorted  a 
fine  of  ;^6,ooo  from  the  abashed  City. 

Dekker,  the  dramatist,  was  thrown  into  this 
prison.  This  poet  of  the  great  Elizabethan  race 
was  one  of  Ben  Jonson's  great  rivals.  He  thus  rails 
at  Shakespeare's  special  friend,  who  had  made  "  a 
supplication  to  be  a  poor  journeyman  player,  and 
hadst  been  still  so,  but  that  thou  couldst  not  set  a 
good  face  upon  it.  Thou  hast  forgot  how  thou 
ambled'st  in  leather-pilch,  by  a  play-waggon  in  the 
highway ;  and  took'st  mad  Jeronimo's  part,  to  get 
service  among  the  mimics,"  &c. 


Dekker  thus  delineates  Ben  : —  "  That  same 
Horace  has  the  most  ungodly  face,  by  my  fan ;  it 
looks  for  all  the  world  like  a  rotten  russet  apple, 
when  'tis  bruised.  It's  better  than  a  spoonful  of 
cinnamon  water  next  my  heart,  for  me  to  hear  him 
speak ;  he  sounds  it  so  i'  th'  nose,  and  talks  and 
rants  like  the  poor  fellows  under  Ludgate — to  see 
his  face  make  faces,  when  he  reads  his  songs  and 
sonnets." 

Again,  we  have  Ben's  face  compared  with  that  of 
his  favourite,  Horace's — "  You  staring  Leviathan  ! 
Look  on  the  sweet  visage  of  Horace ;  look,  par- 
boil'd  face,  look — has  he  not  liis  face  punchtfuU 
of  eylet-holes,  like  the  cover  of  a  warming-pan?", 

Ben  Jonson's  manner  in  a  play-house  is  thus 
sketched  by  Dekker  : — "  Not  to  hang  himself,  even 
if  he  thought  any  man  could  write  plays  as  well  as 
himself;  not  to  bombast  out  a  new  play  with  the 
old  linings  of  jests  stolen  from  the  Temple's  revels; 
not  to  sit  in  a  gallery  where  your  comedies  have 
entered  their  actions,  and  there  make  vile  and  bad 
faces  at  every  line,  to  make  men  have  an  eye  to 
you,  and  to  make  players  afraid  ;  not  to  venture 
on  the  stage  when  your  play  is  ended,  and  exchange 
courtesies  and  compliments  with  gallants,  to  make 
all  the  house  rise  and  cry — 'That's  Horace  !  That's 
he  that  pens  and  purges  humours  ! ' " 

But,  notwithstanding  all  his  bitterness,  Dekker 
could  speak  generously  of  the  old  poet ;  for  he 
thus  sums  up  Ben  Jonson's  merits  in  the  following 
lines  : — 

"Good  Horace  !     No !     My  cheeks  do  blush  for  thine, 
As  often  as  thou  speakest  so  ;  where  one  true 
And  nobly  virtuous  spirit  for  thy  best  part 
Loves  thee,  I  wish  one,  ten  ;  even  from  my  heart ! 
I  make  account,  I  put  up  as  deep  share 
In  any  good  man's  love,  which  thy  worth  earns, 
As  thou  thyself ;  we  envy  not  to  see 
Thy  friends  with  bays  to  crown  thy  poesy. 
No,  here  the  gall  lies  ; — we,  that  know  what  stuff 
Thy  very  heart  is  made  of,  know  the  stalk 
On  which  thy  learning  grows,  and  can  give  life 
To  thy  one  dying  baseness  ;  yet  must  we 
Dance  anticks  on  your  paper. 
But  were  thy  warp'd  soul  put  in  a  new  mould, 
I'd  wear  thee  as  a  jewel  set  in  gold." 

Charles  Lamb,  speaking  of  Dekker's  share  in 
Massinger's  Virgin  Martyr,  highly  eulogises  the 
impecunious  poet.  "This  play,"  says  Lamb, 
"  has  some  beauties  of  so  very  high  an  order,  that 
with  all  my  respect  for  Massinger,  I  do  not  think 
he  had  poetical  enthusiasm  capable  of  rising  up  to 
them.  His  associate,  Dekker,  who  wrote  Old 
Fortunatus,  had  poetry  enough  for  anything.  The 
very  impurities  which  obtrude  themselves  among 
the  sweet  pictures  of  this  play,  like  Satan  among 
1  the  sons  of  Heaven,  have  a  strength  of  contrast,  a 


The  Poultrj'.] 


"SLAVES  CANNOT  BREATHE  IN  ENGLAND. 


423 


raciiicss,  and  a  glow  in  them,  which  are  beyond 
Massinger.  They  are  to  the  religion  of  the  rest 
what  Caliban  is  to  Miranda," 

Ned  Ward,  in  his  coarse  but  clever  "  London 
Spy,"  gives  us  a  most  distasteful  picture  of  the 
Compter  in  169S-1700.  "  When  we  first  entered," 
says  Ward,  "  this  apartment,  under  the  title  of  the 
King's  Ward,  the  mixture  of  scents  that  arose 
from  viiindiingiis,  tobacco,  foul  feet,  dirty  shirts, 
stinking  breaths,  and  uncleanly  carcases,  poisoned 
our  nostrils  far  worse  than  a  Southwark  ditch,  a 
tanner's  yard,  or  a  tallow-chandler's  melting-room. 
The  ill-looking  vermin,  with  long,  rusty  beards, 
swaddled  up  in  rags,  and  their  heads — some  covered 
with  thrum-caps,  and  others  thrust  into  the  tops  of 
old  stockings.  Some  quitted  their  play  they  were 
before  engaged  in,  and  came  hovering  round  us, 
like  so  many  cannibals,  with  such  devouring 
countenances,  as  if  a  man  had  been  but  a  morsel 
with  'em,  all  crying  out,  '  Garnish,  garnish,'  as  a 
rabble  in  an  insurrection  crying,  '  Liberty,  liberty!' 
We  were  forced  to  submit  to  the  doctrine  of  non- 
resistance,  and  comply  with  their  demands,  which 
extended  to  the  sum  of  two  shilhngs  each." 

The  Poultry  Compter  has  a  special  historical 
interest,  from  the  fact  of  its  being  connected  with 
the  early  struggles  of  our  philanthropists  against 
the  slave-trade.  It  was  here  that  several  of  the 
slaves  released  by  Granville  Sharp's  noble  exer- 
tions were  confined.  This  excellent  man,  and 
true  aggressive  Christian,  was  grandson  of  an 
Archbishop  of  York,  and  son  of  a  learned  North- 
umberland rector.  Though  brought  up  to  the 
bar,  he  never  practised,  and  resigned  a  place  in 
the  Ordnance  Office  because  he  could  not  con- 
scientiously approve  of  the  American  War.  He 
lived  a  bachelor  life  in  the  Temple,  doing  good 
continually.  Sharp  opposed  the  impressment  of 
sailors  and  the  system  of  duelling  ;  encouraged 
the  distribution  of  the  Bible,  and  advocated  parlia- 
mentary reform.  But  it  was  as  an  enemy  to  slavery, 
and  the  first  practical  opposer  of  its  injustice  and 
its  cruelties,  that  Granville  Sharp  earned  a  foremost 
place  in  the  great  bede-roll  of  our  English  philan- 
thropists. Mr.  Sharp's  first  interference  in  behalf 
of  persecuted  slaves  was  in  1765. 

In  the  year  1765,  says  Clarkson,  in  his  work  on 
slavery,  a  Mr.  David  Lisle  had  brought  over  from 
Barbadoes  Jonathan  Strong,  an  African  slave,  as  his 
servant.  He  used  the  latter  in  a  barbarous  manner 
at  his  lodgings,  in  Wapping,  but  particularly  by 
beating  him  over  the  head  with  a  pistol,  which 
occasioned  his  head  to  swell.  When  the  swelling 
went  down  a  disorder  fell  into  his  eyes,  which 
threatened  the  loss  of  them.     To  this  a  fever  and 


ague  succeeded  ;  and  he  was  affected  with  a  lame- 
ness in  both  his  legs. 

Jonathan  Strong  having  been  brought  into  this 
deplorable  condition,  and  being  therefore  wholly 
useless,  was  left  by  his  master  to  go  whither  he 
pleased.  He  applied,  accordingly,  to  Mr.  William 
Sharp,  the  surgeon,  for  his  advice,  as  to  one  who 
gave  up  a  portion  of  his  time  to  the  healing  of  the 
diseases  of  the  poor.  It  was  here  that  Mr.  Gran- 
ville Sharp,  the  brother  of  the  former,  saw  him. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  in  process  of  time  he  was 
cured.  During  this  time  Mr.  Granville  Sharp, 
pitying  his  hard  case,  supplied  him  with  money, 
and  afterwards  got  him  a  situation  in  the  family  of 
Mr.  Brown,  an  apothecary,  to  carry  out  medicines. 

In  this  new  situation,  when  Strong  had  become 
healthy  and  robust  in  his  appearance,  his  master 
happened  to  see  him.  The  latter  immediately 
formed  the  design  of  possessing  him  again.  Ac- 
cordingly, when  he  had  found  out  his  residence, 
he  procured  John  Ross,  keeper  of  the  Poultry 
Compter,  and  William  Miller,  an  officer  under  the 
Lord  Mayor,  to  kidnap  him.  This  was  done  by 
sending  for  him  to  a  public-house  in  Fenchurch 
Street,  and  then  seizing  him.  By  these  he  was 
conveyed,  without  any  warrant,  to  the  Poultry 
Compter,  where  he  was  sold  by  his  master  to  John 
Kerr  for  ;^3o.  Mr.  Sharp,  immediately  upon  this, 
waited  upon  Sir  Robert  Kite,  the  then  Lord  Mayor, 
and  entreated  him  to  send  for  Strong  and  to  hear 
his  case.  A  day  was  accordingly  appointed,  Mr. 
Sharp  attended,  also  William  M'Bean,  a  notary 
public,  and  David  Laird,  captain  of  the  ship 
Thames,  which  was  to  have  conveyed  Strong  to 
Jamaica,  in  behalf  of  the  purchaser,  John  Kerr. 
A  long  conversation  ensued,  in  which  the  opinion 
of  York  and  Talbot  was  quoted.  Mr.  Sharp  made 
his  observations.  Certain  lawyers  who  were  present 
seemed  to  be  staggered  at  the  case,  but  inclined 
rather  to  re-commit  the  prisoner.  The  Lord  Mayor, 
however,  discharged  Strong,  as  he  had  been  taken 
up  without  a  warrant. 

As  soon  as  this  determination  was  made  known, 
the  parties  began  to  move  off".  Captain  Laird, 
however,  who  kept  close  to  Strong,  laid  hold  of  him 
before  he  had  quitted  the  room,  and  said  aloud, 
"  Then  now  I  seize  him  as  my  slave."  Upon  this 
Mr.  Sharp  put  his  hand  upon  Laird's  shoulder,  and 
pronounced  these  words,  "  I  charge  you,  in  the 
name  of  the  king,  with  an  assault  upon  the  person 
of  Jonathan  Strong,  and  all  these  are  my  witnesses." 
Laird  was  greatly  intimidated  by  this  charge,  made 
in  the  presence  of  the  Lord  Mayor  and  others, 
arid  fearing  a  prosecution,  let  his  prisoner  go, 
leaving  him  to  be  conveyed  away  by  Mr.  Sharp. 


I 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


424 

But  the  great  turning  case  was  that  of  James 
Somerset,  in  1772.  James  Somerset,  an  African 
slave,  had  been  brought  to  England  by  his  master, 
Charles  Stewart,  in  November,  1769.  Somerset,  m 
process  of  time,  left  him.  Stewart  took  an  oppor- 
tunity of  seizing  him,  and  had  him  conveyed  on 
board  the  Ajih  and  Mary,  Captain  Knowles,  to  be 
carried  out  of  the  kingdom  and  sold  as  a  slave  in 
Jamaica.  The  question  raised  was,  "Whether  a 
slave,  by  coming  into  England,  became  free?" 

In  order  that  time  might  be  given  for  ascer- 
taining the  law  fully  on  this  head,  the  case  was 
argued  at  three  different  sittings— first,  in  January, 
1772;  secondly,  in  February,  1772;  and  thirdly, 
in  May,  1772.  And  that  no  decision  otherwise 
than  what  the  law  warranted  might  be  given,  the 
opinion  of  the  judges  was  taken  upon  the  pleadings. 
The  great  and  glorious  issue  of  the  trial  was, 
"That  as  soon  as  ever  any  slave  set  his  foot  upon 
English  territory  he  became  free." 

Thus  ended  the  great  case  of  Somerset,  which, 
having  been  determined  after  so  deliberate  an  in- 
vestigation of  the  law,  can  never  be  reversed  while 
the  British  Constitution  remains.  The  eloquence 
displayed  in  it  by  those  who  were  engaged  on  the 
side  of  liberty  was  perhaps  never  exceeded  on  any 
.  occasion ;  and  the  names  of  the  counsellors,  Davy, 
Glynn,  Hargrave,  Mansfield,  and  AUeyne,  ought 
always  to  be  remembered  with  gratitude  by  the 
friends  of  this  great  cause. 

It  was  after  this  verdict  that  Cowper  wrote  the 
following  beautiful  lines  : — 

"  Slaves  cannot  breathe  in  England  ;  if  their  lungs 
Imbibe  our  air,  that  moment  they  are  free  ; 
They  touch  our  country,  and  their  shackles  fall. 
That's  noble,  and  bespeaks  a  nation  proud 
And  jealous  of  the  blessing.     Spread  on,  then, 
And  let  it  circulate  through  every  vein 
Of  all  your  empire,  that  where  Britain's  power 
Is  felt,  mankind  may  feel  her  mercy  too." 

It  was  in  this  Compter  that  Boyse,  a  true  type  of 
the  Grub  Street  poet  of  Dr.  Johnson's  time,  spent 
many  of  the  latter  days  of  his  life.  In  the  year 
1740  Boyse  was  reduced  to  the  lowest  state  of 
poverty,  having  no  clothes  left  in  v/hich  he  could 
appear  abroad;  and  what  bare  subsistence  he 
procured  was  by  Avriting  occasional  poems  for  the 
magazines.  Of  the  disposition  of  his  apparel  Mr. 
Nichols  received  from  Dr.  Johnson,  who  knew  him 
well,  the  following  account.  He  used  to  pawn 
what  he  had  of  this  sort,  and  it  was  no  sooner 
redeemed  by  his  friends,  than  pawned  again.  On 
one  occasion  Dr.  Johnson  collected  a  sum  of  money* 

*"  The  sum,"  said  Johnson,  "  \vas  collected  by  sixpences, 
at  a  time  when  to  me  sixpence,  was  a  serious  consideration." 


[The  Poultry. 


for  this  purpose,  and  in  two  days  the  clothes  were 
pawned  again.  In  this  state  Boyse  remained  in 
bed  with  no  other  covering  than  a  blanket  with  two 
holes,  through  which  he  passed  his  arms  when  he 
sat  up  to  write.  The  author  of  his  life  in  Gibber 
adds,  that  when  his  distresses  were  so  pressing  as 
to  induce  him  to  dispose  of  his  shirt,  he  used  to  cut 
some  white  paper  in  slips,  which  he  tied  round  his 
Avrists,  and  in  the  same  manner  supplied  his  neck. 
In  this  plight  he  frequently  appeared  abroad,  while 
his  other  apparel  was  scarcely  suflicient  for  tl:e 
purposes  of  decency. 

In  the  month  of  May,  1749,  Boyse  died  in 
obscure  lodgings  near  Shoe  Lane.  An-  old 
acquaintance  of  his  endeavoured  to  collect  money 
to  defray  the  expenses  of  his  funeral,  so  that  the 
scandal  of  being  buried  by  the  parish  might  l)e 
avoided.  But  his  endeavours  were  in  vaui,  for 
the  persons  he  had  selected  had  been  so  otten 
troubled  with  applications  during  the  life  of  this 
unhappy  man,  that  they  refused  to  contribute  any- 
thing towards  his  funeral. 

Of  Boyses  best  poems  "  The  Deity"  contains 
some  vigorous  lines,  of  Avhich  the  following  are  a 
favourable  specimen : — 

«'  Transcendent  pow'r  !  sole  arbiter  of  fate  ! 
How  great  thy  glory  !  and  thy  bliss  how  grent. 
To  view  from  thy  exalted  throne  above 
(Eternal  source  of  light,  and  life,  and  love  !) 
Unnumbered  creatures  draw  their  smiling  birth, 
To  bless  the  heav'ns  or  beautify  the  earth  ; 
While  systems  roll,  obedient  to  thy  view. 
And  worlds  rejoice— which  Newton  never  knew  ! 

Below,  thro'  different  forms  does  matter  range. 
And  life  subsists  from  elemental  change, 
Liquids  condensing  shapes  terrestrial  wear, 
Earth  mounts  in  fire,  and  fire  dissolves  in  air  ; 
While  we,  inquiring  phantoms  of  a  day, 
Inconstant  as  the  shadows  we  survey  ! 
With  them  along  Time's  rapid  current  pass, 
And  haste  to  mingle  with  the  parent  mass  ; 
But  thou.  Eternal  Lord  of  life  divine  ! 
In  youth  immortal  shalt  for  ever  shine  ! 
No  change  shall  darken  thy  exalted  name. 
From  everlasting  ages  still  the  same  !" 
Dunton,  the  eccentric  bookseller  of  William  III.'s 
reign,  resided  in  the    Poultry  in  the  year  1688. 
"The  humour  of  rambling,"  he  says  in  his  auto- 
biography, "  was  now  pretty  well  off  with  me,  and 
my  thoughts  began   to  fix   rather   upon  business. 
The  shop  I  took,  with  the  sign  of  the  Black  Raven, 
stood   opposite  to  the   Poultry  Counter,  where  I 
traded  ten  years,  as  all  other  men  must  expect,  with 
a  variety  of  successes  and  disappointments.     My 
shop  was  opened  just  upon  the  Revolution,  and, 
as  I  remember,  the  same  day  the  Prince  of  Orange 
came  to  London." 


Old  Je*!-y.] 


JEWS  IN  The  old  jewrv. 


425 


CHAPTER  XXXVH. 

OLD  JEWRY. 

Tlie  Old  Jewry — Early  Settlements  of  Jews  in  London  and  Oxford — Bad  Times  for  the  Israelites— Jews'  Alms— A  King  in  Debt— Rachel  weeping 
for  her  Children — Jewish  Converts — Wholesale  Expulsion  of  the  Chosen  People  from  li^ngland — The  Rich  House  of  a  Rich  Citizen — The 
London  Institution,  formerly  in  the  Old  Jewry — Porsoniana — Nonconformists  in  the  Old  Jewry — Samuel  Chandler,  Richard  Price,  and 
James  Foster — The  Grocers'  Company — Their  Sufferings  under  the  Commonwealth — Almost  Bankrupt — Again  they  Flourish — The  Grocers' 
Hall  Garden— Fairfax  and  the  Grocers — A  Rich  and  Generous  Grocer— A  Warlike  Grocer — Walbrook — Bucklersbury. 


The  Old  Jewry  was  the  Ghetto  of  mediaeval 
London.  The  Rev,  Moses  Margoliouth,  in  his 
interesting  *'  History  of  the  Jews  in  Great  Britain," 
has  clearly  .shown  that  Jews  resided  in  England 
during  the  Saxon  times,  by  an  edict  published  by 
Elgbright,  Archbishop  of  York,  a.d.  470,  forbidding 
Christians  to  attend  the  Jewish  feasts.  It  appears 
the  Jews  sometimes  left  lands  to  the  abbeys ;  and 
in  the  laws  of  Edward  the  Confessor  we  find  them 
especially  mentioned  as  under  the  king's  guard  and 
protection. 

The  Conqueror  invited  over  many  Jews  from 
Rouen,  who  settled  themselves  chiefly  in  London, 
Stamford,  and  Oxford.  In  London  the  Jews  had 
two  colonies — one  in  Old  Jewry,  near  King  Offa's 
old  palace ;  and  one  in  the  liberties  of  the  Tower. 
Rufus,  in  his  cynical  way,  marked  his  hatred  of  the 
monks  by  summoning  a  convocation,  where  English 
bishops  met  Jewish  rabbis,  and  held  a  religious  con- 
troversy, Rufus  swearing  by  St.  Luke's  face  that  if 
the  rabbis  had  the  best  of  it,  he  would  turn  Jew  at 
once.  In  this  reign  the  Jews  were  so  powerful  at 
Oxford  that  they  let  three  halls — Lombard  Hall, 
Moses  Hall,  and  Jacob  Hall — to  students ;  and 
their  rabbis  instructed  even  Christian  students  in 
their  synagogue.  Jews  took  care  of  vacant  bene- 
fices for  the  king.  In  the  reign  of  Henry  I.  the 
Jews  began  to  make  proselytes,  and  monks  were 
sent  to  several  towns  to  preach  against  them.- 
Halcyon  times !  With  the  reign  of  Stephen,  how- 
ever, began  the  storms,  and,  with  the  clergy,  the 
usurper  persecuted  the  Jews,  exacting  a  fine  of 
;^2,ooo  from  those  of  London  alone  for  a  pre- 
tended manslaughter.  The  absurd  story  of  the 
Jews  murdering  young  children,  to  anoint  Israel- 
ites or  to  raise  devils  with  their  blood,  originated 
in  this  reign. 

Henry  II.  was  equally  ruthless,  though  he  did 
grant  Jews  cemeteries  outside  the  towns.  Up  till 
this  time  the  London  Jews  had  only  been  allowed 
to  bury  in  "  the  Jews'  garden,"  in  the  parish  of 
St.  Giles's,  Cripplegate.  In  spite  of  frequent  fines 
and  banishments,  their  historian  owns  that  alto- 
gether they  throve  in  this  reign,  and  their  phy- 
sicians were  held  in  high  repute.     With  Richard  I., 


chivalrous  to  all  else,  began  the  real  miseries  of  the 
English  Jews.  Even  on  the  day  of  his  coronation 
there  was  a  massacre  of  the  Jews,  and  many  of 
their  houses  were  burnt.  Two  thousand  Jews  were 
murdered  at  York,  and  at  Lynn  and  Stamford  they 
were  also  plundered.  On  his  return  from  Palestine 
Richard  established  a  tribunal  for  Jews.  In  the 
early  part  of  John's  reign  he  treated  the  money- 
lenders, whom  he  wanted  to  use,  with  considera- 
tion. He  granted  them  a  charter,  and  allowed 
them  to  choose  their  own  chief  rabbi.  He  also 
allowed  them  to  try  all  their  own  causes  which 
did  not  concern  pleas  of  the  Crown ;  and  all  this 
justice  only  cost  the  English  Jews  4,000  marks, 
for  John  was  poor.  His  greed  soon  broke  loose. 
In  12 10  he  levied  on  the  Jews  66,000  marks,  and 
imprisoned,  blinded,  and  tortured  all  who  did  not 
readily  pay.  The  king's  last  act  of  inhumanity 
was  to  compel  some  Jews  to  torture  and  put  to 
death  a  great  number  of  Scotch  prisoners  who  had 
assisted  the  barons.  Can  we  wonder  that  it  is  still 
a  proverb  among  the  English  Jews,  "  Thank  God 
that  there  was  only  one  King  John  ?  " 

The  regent  of  the  early  part  of  the  reign  of 
Henry  HI.  protected  the  Jews,  and  exempted  them 
from  the  jurisdiction  of  the  ecclesiastical  courts, 
but  they  were  compelled  to  wear  on  their  breasts 
two  white  tablets  of  linen  or  parchment,  two 
inches  broad  and  four  inches  long ;  and  twenty- 
four  burgesses  were  chosen  in  every  town  where 
they  resided,  to  protect  them  from  the  insults  of 
pilgrims ;  for  the  clergy  still  treated  them  as  ex- 
communicated infidels.  But  even  this  lull  was 
short — persecution  soon  again  broke  out.  In  the 
14th  of  Henry  III.  the  Crown  seized  a  third  part 
of  all  their  movables,  and  their  new  synagogue  in 
the  Old  Jewry  was  granted  to  the  brothers  of  ,St. 
Anthony  of  Vienna,  and  turned  into  a  church.  In 
the  17th  of  Henry  HI.  the  Jews  were  again  taxed 
to  the  amount  of  18,000  silver  marks.  At  the 
same  time  the  king  erected  an  institution  in  New 
Street  (Cloancery  Lane)  for  Jewish  converts,  as  an 
atonement  for  his  father's  cruelty  to  the  persecuted 
exiles.  Four  Jews  of  Norwich  having  been  dragged 
at  horses'  tails  and  hung,  on  a  pretended  charge  of 


426 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


told  JcTrty. 


circumcising  a  Christian  boy,  led  to  new  perse- 
cution, and  the  Jews  were  driven  out  of  Newcastle 
and  Southampton  j  while  to  defray  the  expense  of 
entertaining  the  Queen's  foreign  uncles  20,000 
marks  were  exacted  from  the  suffering  race.  In 
the  19th  year  of  his  reign  Henry,  driven  hard  for 
money,  extorted  from  the  rich  Jews  10,000  more 


New  Street  were  called  in  to  read  the  Hebrew 
letters,  and  the  canons  of  St.  Paul's  took  the 
child's  body,  which  was  supposed  to  have  wrought 
miracles,  and  buried  it  with  great  ceremony  not 
far  from  their  great  altar.  In  order  to  defray  the 
expenses  of  his  brother  Richard's  marriage  the 
poor  Jews  of  London  were  heavily  mulcted,  and 


RICHARD  I'UKSu.N.     {rroiit  an  Auihcntic  I'ortrait.) 


marks,  and  several  were  burned  alive  for  plotting 
to  destroy  London  by  fire.  The  more  absurd  the 
accusation  the  more  eagerly  it  was  believed  by  a 
superstitious  and  frightened  rabble.  In  1244, 
Matthew  of  Paris  says,  the  corpse  of  a  child  was 
found  buried  in  London,  on  whose  arms  and  legs 
were  traced  Hebrew  inscriptions.  It  was  supposed 
that  the  Jews  had  crucified  this  child,  in  ridicule  of 
the  crucifixion  of  Christ.     The  converted  Tews  of 


Aaron  of  York,  a  man  of  boundless  wealth,  was 
forced  to  pay  4,000  marks  of  silver  and  400  of 
gold.  Defaulters  were  transported  to  Ireland,  a 
punishment  especially  dreaded  by  the  Jews.  A 
tax  called  Jews'  alms  was  also  sternly  enforced  ; 
and  we  find  Lucretia,  widow  of  David,  an  Oxford 
Jew,  actually  compelled  to  pay  ;^2,59o  towards 
the  rebuilding  of  Westminster  Abbey.  It  was 
about  this  time  that  Abraham,   a  Jew  of  Berk- 


I 


Old  Jewry.] 


PERSECUTIONS  OF  THE  JEWS. 


427 


hampstead,  strangled  his  wife,  who  had  refused  to 
lielp  him  to  defile  and  deface  an  image  of  the 
Virgin,  and  was  thrown  into  a  dungeon  of  the 
Tower ;  but  the  murderer  escaped,  by  a  present  of 
7,000  marks  to  the  king.  Tormented  by  the 
king's  incessant  exactions,  the  Jews  at  last  im- 
plored leave  to   quit  England  before  their  very 


bounds  of  truth,  I  am  deceived  on  every  hand  ; 
I  am  a  maimed  and  abridged  king — yea,  now  only 
half  a  king.  There  is  ^  necessity  for  me  to  have 
money,  gotten  from  what  place  soever,  and  from 
whomsoever." 

The  king,  on  Richard's  promise  to  obtain  him 
money,  sold  him  the  right  which  he  held  over  the 


SIR  R.  Clayton's  house,  garden  front.     (From  an  Old  Print.) 


skins  were  taken  from  them.  The  king  broke  into 
a  fit  of  almost  ludicrous  rage.  He  had  been 
tender  of  their  welfare,  he  said  to  his  brother 
Richard.  *'  Is  it  to  be  marvelled  at,"  he  cried, 
"that  I  covet  money?  It  is  a  horrible  thing  to 
imagine  the  debts  wherein  I  am  held  bound.  By 
the  head  of  God,  they  amount  to  the  sum  of  two 
hundred  thousand  marks ;  and  if  I  should  say 
three  hundred  thousand,  I  should  not  exceed  the 


Jews.  Soon  after  this,  eighty-six  of  the  richest 
Jews  of  London  were  hung,  on  a  charge  of  having 
crucified  a  Christian  child  at  Uncoln,  and  twenty- 
three  others  were  thrown  into  the  Tower.  Truly  Old 
Jewry  must  have  often  heard  the  voice  of  Rachel 
weeping  for  her  children.  Their  persecutors  never 
grew  weary.  In  a  great  riot,  encouraged  by  the 
barons,  the  great  bell  of  St.  Paul's  tolled  out,  500 
Jews  were  killed  in  London^  and  the  synagogiie 


42? 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


toid  j 


ewry. 


burnt,  the  leader  of  the  mob,  John  Fitz-John,  a 
baron,  running  Rabbi  Abraham,  the  richest  Jew 
in  London,  through  with  his 'sword.  On  the  defeat 
of  the  king's  party  at  the  battle  of  Lewes,  the 
London  mob  accusing  the  Jews  of  aiding  the 
king,  plundered  their  houses,  and  all  the  Israelites 
would  have  perished,  had  they  not  taken  refuge  in 
the  Tower.  By  royal  edict  the  Christians  were 
forbidden  to  buy  flesh  of  a  Jew,  and  no  Jew 
was  allowed  to  employ  Christian  nurses,  bakers, 
brewers,  or  cooks.  Towards  the  close  of  Henry's 
life  the  synagogue  in  Old  Jewry  was  again  taken 
from  the  Jews,  and  given  to  the  Friars  Penitent, 
whose  chapel  stood  hard  by,  and  who  complained 
of  the  noise  of  the  Jewish  congregation;  but  the 
king  permitted  another  synagogue  to  be  built  in 
a  more  suitable  place.  Henry  then  ordered  the 
Jews  to  pay  up  all  arrears  of  tallages  within  four 
months,  and  half  of  the  sum  in  seventeen  days. 
The  Tower  of  London  was  naturally  soon  full  of 
grey-bearded  Jewish  debtors. 

No  wonder,  with  all  these  persecutions,  that  the 
Chancery  Lane  house  of  converts  began  soon  to 
fill.  "  On  one  of  the  rolls  of  this  reign,"  says  Mr. 
Margoliouth,  probably  quoting  Prynne's  famous 
diatribe  against  the  Jews,  "  about  500  names  of 
Jewish  converts  are  registered."  From  the  50th 
year  of  Henry  IH.  to  the  2nd  of  Edward  I.,  the 
Crown,  says  Coke,  extorted  from  the  English  Jews 
no  less  than  ;^42o,ooo  15s.  4d. ! 

Edward  I.  was  more  merciful.  In  a  statute, 
however,  which  Avas  passed  in  his  third  year,  he 
forbade  Jews  practising  usury,  required  them  to 
wear  badges  of  yellow  taffety,  as  a  distinguishing 
mark  of  their  nationality,  and  demanded  from  each 
of  them  threepence  every  Easter.  Then  began  the 
plunder.  The  king  wanted  money  to  build  Car- 
narvon and  Conway  castles,  to  be  held  as  fortresses 
against  the  Welsh,  whom  he  had  just  recently  con- 
quered and  treated  with  great  cruelty,  and  the  Jews 
were  robbed  accordingly.  It  was  not  difficult  in 
those  days  to  find  an  excuse  for  extortion  if  the 
royal  exchequer  was  empty.  In  the  7th  year  of 
Edward  no  less  than  294  Jews  were  put  to  death 
for  clipping  money,  and  all  they  possessed  seized  by 
the  king.  In  his  17th  year  all  the  Jews  in  England 
were  imprisoned  in  one  night,  as  Selden  proves  by 
an  old  Hebrew  inscription  found  at  Winchester, 
and  not  released  till  they  had  paid  ;^2  0,000  of 
silver  for  a  ransom.  At  last,  in  the  year  1290, 
came  the  Jews'  final  expulsion  from  England,  when 
15,000  or  16,000  of  these  tormented  exiles  left 
our  shores,  not  to  return  till  Cromwell  set  the  first 
great  example  of  toleration.  Edward  allowed  the 
Jews  to  take  with  them  jxirt  of  their  money  and 


movables,  but  seized  their  houses  and  other  posses- 
sions. All  their  outstanding  mortgages  were  for- 
feited to  the  Crown,  and  ships  were  to  be  provided 
for  their  conveyance  to  such  places  within  reason- 
able distance  as  they  might  choose.  In  spite  of 
this,  however,  many,  through  the  treachery  of  the 
sailors,  were  left  behind  in  England,  and  were  all 
put  to  death  with  great  cruelty. 

"  Whole  rolls  full  of  patents  relative  to  Jewish 
estates,"  says  Mr.  Margoliouth,  "are  still  to  be 
seen  at  the  Tower,  which  estates,  together  with 
their  rent  in  fee,  permissions,  and  mortgages,  were 
all  seized  by  the  king."  Old  Jewry,  and  Jewin 
Street,  Aldersgate,  where  their  burial-ground  was, 
still  preserve  a  dim  memory  of  their  residence 
among  us.  There  used  to  be  a  tradition  in  England 
that  the  Jews  buried  much  of  their  treasure  here, 
in  hopes  of  a  speedy  return  to  the  land  where 
they  had  suffered  so  much,  yet  where  they  had 
thriven.  In  spite  of  the  edict  of  banishment  a  few 
converted  Jews  continued  to  reside  in  England, 
and  after  the  Reformation  some  unconverted  Jews 
ventured  to  return.  Rodrigo  Lopez,  a  physician 
of  Queen  Elizabeth's,  for  instance,  was  a  Jew.  He 
was  tortured  to  death  for  being  accused  of  designing 
to  poison  the  Queen. 

No.  8,  Old  Jewry  was  the  house  of  Sir  Robert 
Clayton,  Lord  Mayor  in  the  time  of  Charles  II. 
It  was  a  fine  brick  mansion,  and  one  of  the 
grandest  houses  in  the  street.  It  is  mentioned  by 
Evelyn  in  the  following  terms  : — *'  26th  September, 
1672. — I  carried  with  me  to  dinner  my  Lord  H. 
Howard  (now  to  be  made  Earl  of  Norwich  and 
Earl  Marshal  of  England)  to  Sir  Robert  Clayton's, 
now  Sheriff  of  London,  at  his  own  house,  wliere  we 
had  a  great  feast;  it  is  built,  indeed,  for  a  great 
magistrate,  at  excessive  cost.  The  cedar  dining- 
room  is  painted  with  the  history  of  the  Giants'  war, 
incomparably  done  by  Mr.  Streeter,  but  the  figures 
are  too  near  the  eye."  We  give  on  the  previous 
page  a  view  of  the  garden  front  of  this  house, 
taken  from  an  old  print.  Sir  Robert  built  the 
house  to  keep  his  shrievalty,  which  he  did  with 
great  magnificence.  It  was  for  some  years  the  re- 
sidence of  Mr.  Samuel  Sharp,  an  eminent  surveyor. 

In  the  year  1805  was  established,  by  a  proprietary 
m  the  City,  the  London  Institution,  "  for  the  ad- 
vancement of  literature  and  the  diffusion  of  useful 
knowledge."  This  institution  was  temporarily 
located  in  Sir  Robert  Clayton's  famous  old  house. 
Upon  the  first  committee  of  the  institution  were 
Mr.  R.  Angerstein  and  Mr.  Richard  Sharp.  Porson, 
the  famous  Greek  scholar  and  editor  of  Euripides, 
was  thought  an  eligible  man  to  be  its  principal 
librarian.     He  was  accordingly  appointed  to  the 


Old  Jewry.] 


PORSONIANA. 


429 


office  by  a  unanimous  resolution  of  the  governors  ; 
and  Mr.  Sharp  had  the  gratification  of  announcing 
t6  the  Professor  his  appointment.  His  friends 
rejoiced.  Professor  Young,  of  Glasgow,  writing 
to  Burney  about  this  time,  says  : — "  Of  Devil 
Dick  you  say  nothing.  I  see  by  the  newspapers 
they  have  given  him  a  post.  A  handsome  salary, 
I  hope,  a  suite  of  chambers,  coal  and  candle, 
&c.  Porter  and  cyder,  I  trust,  are  among  the 
et  ccBleras."  His  salary  was  ^^200  a  year,  with 
a  suite  of  rooms.  Still,  Porson  was  not  just  the 
man  for  a  librarian ;  for  no  one  could  use  books 
more  roughly.  He  had  no  affectation  about  books, 
nor,  indeed,  affectation  of  any  sort.  The  late  Mr. 
William  Upcott,  who  urged  the  publication  of 
Evelyn's  diary  at  Wootton,  was  fellow-secretary 
with  Porson.  The  institution  removed  to  King's 
Arms  Yard,  Coleman  Street,  in  181 2,  and  thence 
in  181 9  to  the  present  handsome  mansion,  erected 
from  the  classic  design  of  Mr.  W.  Brooks,  on  the 
north  side  of  Moorfields,  now  Finsbury  Circus. 

The  library  is  "  one  of  the  most  useful  and 
accessible  in  Great  Britain ; "  and  Mr.  Watson 
found  in  a  few  of  the  books  Porson's  handwriting, 
•  consisting  of  critical  remarks  and  notes.  In  a 
copy  of  the  Aldine  "  Herodotus,"  he  has  marked 
the  chapters  in  the  margin  in  Arabic  numerals 
*'  with  such  nicety  and  regularity,"  says  his  bio- 
grapher, "that  the  eye  of  the  reader,  unless  upon 
the  closest  examination,  takes  them  for  print." 

Lord  Byron  remembered  Porson  at  Cambridge ; 
in  the  hall  where  he  himself  dined,  at  the  Vice- 
Chancellor's  table,  and  Porson  at  the  Dean's,  he 
ahvays  appeared  sober  in  his  demeanour,  nor  was 
he  guilty,  as  far  as  his  lordship  knew,  of  any 
excess  or  outrage  in  public ;  but  in  an  evening, 
with  a  party  of  undergraduates,  he  would,  in  fits  of 
intoxication,  get  into  violent  disputes  with  the 
young  men,  and  arrogantly  revile  them  for  not 
knowing  what  he  thought  they  might  be  expected 
^  to  know.  He  once  went  away  in  disgust,  because 
none  of  them  knew  the  name  of  "the  Cobbler  of 
Messina."  In  this  condition  Byron  had  seen  him 
at  the  rooms  of  William  Bankes,  the  Nubian  dis- 
coverer, where  he  would  pour  forth  whole  pages  of 
various  languages,  and  distinguish  himself  especially 
by  his  copious  floods  of  Greek. 

Lord  Byron  further  tells  us  that  he  had  seen 
Sheridan  "  drunk,  with  all  the  world ;  his  intoxi- 
cation was  that  of  Bacchus,  but  Porson's  that 
of  Silenus.  Of  all  the  disgusting  brutes,  sulky, 
abusive,  and  intolerable,  Porson  was  the  most 
bestial,  so  far  as  the  few  times  that  I  saw  him 
went,  which  were  only  at  William  Bankes's  rooms. 
Jie  was  tolerated  in  this  state  among  the  young 


men  for  his  talents,  as  the  Turks  think  a  madman 
inspired,  and  bear  with  him.  He  used  to  write,  or 
rather  vomit,  pages  of  all  languages,  and  could 
hiccup  Greek  like  a  Helot ;  and  certainly  Sparta 
never  shocked  her  children  with  a  grosser  exhi- 
bition than  this  man's  intoxication." 

The  library  of  the  institution  appears,  however, 
to  have  derived  little  advantage  from  Porson's 
supervision  of  it,  beyond  the  few  criticisms  which 
were  found  in  his  handwriting  in  some  of  the 
volumes.  Owing  to  his  very  irregular  habits,  the 
great  scholar  proved  but  an  inefficient  librarian ; 
he  was  irregular  in  attendance,  and  was  fre- 
quently brought  home  at  midnight  drunk.  The 
directors  had  determined  to  dismiss  him,  and  said 
they  only  knew  him  as  their  librarian  from  seeing 
his  name  attached  to  receipts  of  salary.  Indeed, 
he  was  already  breaking  up,  and  his  stupendous 
memory  had  begun  to  fail.  On  the  19th  of 
September,  1806,  he  left  the  Old  Jewry  to  call 
on  his  brother-in-law,  Perry,  in  the  Strand,  and  at 
the  corner  of  Northumberland  Street  was  struck 
down  by  a  fit  of  apoplexy.  He  was  carried  over 
to  the  St.  Martin's  Lane  workhouse,  and  there 
slowly  recovered  consciousness.  Mr.  Savage,  the 
under-librarian,  seeing  an  advertisement  in  the 
British  Press,  describing  a  person  picked  up, 
having  Greek  memoranda  in  his  pocket,  went  to 
the  workhouse  and  brought  Porson  home  in  a 
hackney  coach ;  he  talked  about  the  fire  which  the 
night  before  had  destroyed  Covent  Garden  Theatre, 
and  as  they  rounded  St.  Paul's,  remarked  upon  the 
ill  treatment  Wren  had  received.  On  reaching  the 
Old  Jewry,  and  after  he  had  breakfasted.  Dr.  Adam 
Clarke  called  and  had  a  conversation  with  Porson 
about  a  stone  with  a  Greek  inscription,  brought 
from  Ephesus ;  he  also  discussed  a  Mosaic  pavement 
recently  found  in  Palestrini,  and  quoted  two  lines 
from  the  Greek  Anthologia.  Dr.  Adam  Clarke 
particularly  noticed  that  he  gave  the  Greek  rapidly, 
but  the  English  with  painful  slowness,  as  if  the 
Greek  came  more  naturally.  Then,  apparently 
fancying  himself  under  restraint,  he  walked  out, 
and  went  into  the  African  or  Cole's  coffee-house 
in  St.  Michael's  Alley,  Cornhill;  there  he  would 
have  fallen  had  he  not  caught  hold  of  one  of  the 
brass  rods  of  the  boxes.  Some  wine  and  some 
jelly  dissolved  in  brandy  and  water  considerably 
roused  him,  but  he  could  hardly  speak,  and  the 
waiter  took  him  back  to  the  Institution  in  a  coach. 
He  expired  exactly  as  the  clock  struck  twelve,  on 
the  night  of  Sunday,  September  25,  1808.  He  was 
buried  in  the  Chapel  of  Trinity  College,  Cam- 
bridge, and  eulogies  of  his  talent,  written  in  Greek 
and  Latin  verse,  were  affixed'  to  liis  pail — an  old 


430 


OLD  AND    NEW  LONDON. 


[Old  Jewry. 


custom  not  discontinued  till  1822.  His  books 
fetched  ;^2,ooo,  and  those  with  manuscript  notes 
were  bought  by  Trinity  College.  It  was  said  of 
Porson  that  he  drank  everything  he  could  lay  his 
hands  upon,  even  to  embrocation  and  spirits  of 
wine  intended  for  the  lamp.  Rogers  describes  him 
going  back  into  the  dining-room  after  the  people 
had  gone,  and  drinking  all  that  was  left  in  the 
glasses.  He  once  undertook  to  learn  by  heart,  in 
a  week,  a  copy  of  the  Morning  Chronicle,  and  he 
boasted  he  could  repeat  "  Roderick  Random  "  from 
beginning  to  end.  * 

Mr.  Luard  describes  Porson  as  being,  in  per- 
sonal appearance,  tall ;  his  head  very  fine,  with  an 
expansive  forehead,  over  which  he  plastered  his 
brown  hair ;  he  had  a  long,  Roman  nose  (it  ought 
to  have  been  Greek),  and  his  eyes  were  remarkably 
keen  and  penetrating.  In  general  he  was  very 
careless  as  to  his  dress,  especially  when  alone  in 
his  chamber,  or  when  reading  hard ;  but  "  when 
in  his  gala  costume,  a  smart  blue  coat,  white  vest, 
black  satin  nether  garments,  and  silk  stockings, 
with  a  shirt  ruffled  at  the  ^vrists,  he  looked  quite 
the  gentleman." 

The  street  where,  in  1261,  many  Jews  were 
massacred,  and  where  again,  in  1264,  500  Jews 
were  slain,  was  much  affected  by  Nonconformists. 
There  was  a  Baptist  chapel  here  in  the  Puritan 
times ;  and  in  Queen  Anne's  reign  the  Presby- 
terians built  a  spacious  church,  in  Meeting  House 
Court,  in  1701,  It  is  described  as  occupying 
an  area  of  2,600  square  feet,  and  being  lit  with 
six  bow  windows.  The  society,  says  Mr.  Pike, 
had  been  formed  forty  years  before,  by  the  son 
of  the  excellent  Calamy,  the  persecuted  vicar  of 
Aldermanbury,  who  is  said  to  have  died  from  grief 
at  the  Fire  of  London.  John  Shower  was  one 
of  the  most  celebrated  ministers  of  the  Old  Jewry 
Chapel.  He  wrote  a  protest  against  the  Occasional 
Conformity  Bill,  to  which  Swift  (under  the  name  of 
his  friend  Harley)  penned  a  bitter  reply.  He  died 
in  17 15.  From  1691  to  1708  the  assistant  lecturer 
was  Timothy  Rogers,  son  of  an  ejected  Cumber- 
land minister,  of  whom  an  interesting  story  is  told. 
Sir  Richard  Cradock,  a  High  Church  justice,  had 
arrested  Mr.  Rogers  and  all  his  flock,  and  was 
about  to  send  them  to  prison,  when  the  justice's 
granddaughter,  a  wilful  child  of  seven,  pitying  the 
old  preacher,  threatened  to  drown  herself  if  the 
poor  people  were  punished.  The  preacher  blessed 
her,  and  they  parted.  Years  after  this  child,  being 
in  London,  dreamed  of  a  certain  chapel,  preacher, 
and  text,  and  the  next  day,  going  to  the  Old 
Jewry,  saw  i\Ir.  Shower,  and  recognised  him  as  the 
preacher  of  her  dream.     The  lady  afterwards  told 


this  to  Mr.  Rogers'  son,  when  the  lad  turned 
Dissenter.  Like  many  other  of  the  early  Non- 
conformist preachers,  Rogers  seems  to  have  been 
a  hypochondriac,  who  looked  upon  himself  as  *'  a 
broken  vessel,  a  dead  man  out  of  mind,"  and 
eventually  gave  up  his  profession.  Shower's  suc- 
cessor, Simon  Browne,  wrote  a  volume  of  "Hymns," 
compiled  a  lexicon,  and  wrote  a  "  Defence  of  the 
Christian  Revelation,"  in  reply  to  Woolston  and 
other  Freethinkers.  Browne  was  also  a  victim  to 
delusions,  believing  that  God,  in  his  displeasure,  had 
withdrawn  his  soul  from  his  body.  This  state  of 
mind  is  said  by  some  to  have  arisen  from  a  nervous 
shock  Browne  had  once  received  in  finding  a 
highwayman  with  whom  he  had  grappled  dead  in 
his  grasp.  He  believed  his  mind  entirely  gone, 
and  his  head  to  resemble  a  parrot's.  At  times  his 
thoughts  turned  to  self-destruction.  He  therefore 
abandoned  his  pulpit,  and  retired  to  Shepton 
Mallet  to  study.  His  "  Defence  "  is  dedicated  to 
Queen  Caroline  as  from  "  a  thing." 

Samuel  Chandler,  a  celebrated  author  and  divine, 
and  a  friend  of  Butler  and  Seeker,  and  Bowyer  the 
printer,  was  for  forty  years  another  Old  Jewry 
worthy.  He  lectured  against  Popery  with  great 
success  at  Salters'  Hall,  and  held  a  public  dispute 
with  a  Romish  priest  at  the  "  Pope's  Head,"  Corn- 
hill.  In  a  funeral  sermon  on  George  II.,  Chandler 
drew  absurd  parallels  between  him  and  David, 
which  the  Grub  Street  writers  made  the  most  of. 
Chandler's  deformed  sister  Mary,  a  milliner  at 
Bath,  wrote  verses  which  Pope  commended. 

In  1744  Richard  Price,  afterwards  chaplain  at 
Stoke  Newington,  held  the  lectureship  at  the  Old 
Jewry.  Price's  lecture  on  "  Civil  Liberty,"  apropos 
of  the  American  war,  gained  him  Franklin's  and 
Priestley's  friendship ;  as  his  first  ethical  work 
had  already  won  Hume's.  Burke  denounced  him 
as  a  traitor  ;  while  the  Corporation  of  London 
presented  him  with  the  freedom  of  the  City  in  a 
gold  box,  the  Congress  offered  him  posts  of  honour, 
and  the  Premier  of  1782  would  have  been  glad  to 
have  had  him  as  a  secretary.  The  last  pastor  at 
the  Old  Jewry  Chapel  was  Abraham  Rees.  This 
indefatigable  man  enlarged  Harris's  "  Lexicon 
Technicum,"  improved  by  Ephraim  Chambers,  into 
the  "  Encyclopaedia  "  of  forty-five  quarto  volumes, 
a  book  now  thought  redundant  and  ill-arranged, 
and  the  philological  parts  defective.  In  1808 
the  Old  Jewry  congregation  removed  to  Jewin 
Street. 

Dr.  James  Foster,  a  Dissenting  minister  eulo- 
gised by  Pope,  carried  on  the  Sunday  evening 
lecture  in  Old  Jewry  for  more  than  twenty  years ; 
it  was  began  in  1728.     The  clergy,  wits,  and  free- 


Old  Jewry.] 


THE  GROCERS'  COMPANY. 


431 


thinkers  crowded  with  equal  anxiety  to  hear  him  of 
whom  Pope  wrote — 

*'  Let  modest  Foster,  if  he  will,  excel 
Ten  metropolitans  in  preaching  well." 

And  Pope's  friend,  Lord  BoHngbroke,  an  avowed 
Deist,  commended  Foster  for  the  false  aphorism 
— "Where  mystery  begins  religion  ends."  Dr. 
Foster  attended  Lord  Kilmarnock  before  his  exe- 
cution. He  wrote  in  defence  of  Christianity  in 
reply  to  Tindal,  the  Freethinker,  and  died  in  1753. 
He  says  in  one  of  his  works  : — "  I  value  those  who 
are  of  different  professions  from  me,  more  than 
those  who  agree  with  me  in  sentiment,  if  they  are 
more  serious,  sober,  and  charitable."  This  ex- 
cellent man  was  the  son  of  a  Northamptonshire 
clergyman,  who  turned  Dissenter  and  became  a 
fuller  at  Exeter. 

At  Grocers'  Hall  we  stop  to  sketch  the  history 
of  an  ancient  company. 

The  Grocers  of  London  were  originally  called 
Pepperers,  pepper  being  the  chief  staple  of  their 
trade.  The  earlier  Grocers  were  Italians,  Genoese, 
Florentine  or  Venetian  merchants,  then  supplying 
all  the  west  of  Christendom  with  Indian  and 
Arabian  spices  and  drugs,  and  Italian  silks,  wines, 
and  fruits.  The  Pepperers  are  first  mentioned  as  a 
fraternity  among  the  amerced  guilds  of  Henry  II., 
but  had  probably  clubbed  together  at  an  earlier 
period.  They  are  mentioned  in  a  petition  to  Par- 
liament as  Grocers,  says  Mr.  Herbert,  in  1361 
(Edward  III.),  and  they  themselves  adopted  the, 
at  first,  opprobrious  name  in  1376,  and  some  years 
later  were  incorporated  by  charter.  They  then  re- 
moved from  Soper's  Lane  (now  Queen  Street)  to 
Bucklersbury,  and  waxed  rich  and  powerful. 

The  Grocers  met  at  five  several  places  pre- 
vious to  building  a  hall ;  first  at  the  town  house 
of  the  Abbots  of  Bury,  St,  Mary  Axe  ;  in  1347 
they  moved  to  the  house  of  the  Abbot  of  St. 
Edmund;  in  1348  to  the  Rynged  Hall,  near  Gar- 
lick-hythe ;  and  afterwards  to  the  hotel  of  the 
Abbot  of  St.  Cross.  In  1383  they  flitted  to  the 
Cornet's  Tower,  in  Bucklersbury,  a  place  which 
Edward  III.  had  used  for  his  money  exchange. 
In  141 1  they  purchased  of  Lord  Fitzwalter  the 
chapel  of  the  Fratres  du  Sac  (Brothers  of  the 
Sack)  in  Old  Jewry,  which  had  originally  been  a 
Jewish  synagogue ;  and  having,  some  years  after- 
wards, purchased  Lord  Fitzwalter's  house  adjoin- 
ing the  chapel,  began  to  build  a  hall,  which  was 
opened  in  1428.  The  Friars'  old  chapel  con- 
tained a  buttery,  pantry,  cellar,  parlour,  kitchen, 
turret,  clerk's  house,  a  garden,  and  a  set  of  alms- 
houses in  the  front  yard  was  added.  The  word 
"grocer,"  says  Ravenhill,  in  his  "Short  Account  of 


the  Company  of  Grocers"  (1689),  was  used  to  ex- 
press a  trader  engros  (wholesale).    As  early  as  1373, 
the  first  complement  of  twenty-one  members  of  this 
guild  was  raised  to  1 24 ;  and  in  1583,  sixteen  grocers 
were  aldermen.     In  1347,  Nicholas  Chaucer,  a  rela- 
tion of  the  poet,  was  admitted  as  a  grocer ;  and  in 
1383,  John  Churchman  (Richard  II.)  obtained  for 
the  Grocers  the  great  privilege  of  the  custody,  with 
the  City,  of  the  "  King's  Beam,"  in  Woolwharf,  for 
weighing  wool  in  the  port  of  London,  the  first  step 
to  a  London  Custom  House.     The  Beam  was  after- 
wards removed  to  Bucklersbury.    Henry  VIII.  took 
away  the  keepership  of  the  great  Beam  from  the  City, 
but  afterwards  restored  it.     The  Corporation  still 
have  their  weights  at  the  Weigh  House,  Little  East- 
cheap,  and  the  porters  there  are  the  tackle  porters, 
so  called  to  distinguish  them  from  the  ticket  porters. 
In  1450,  the  Grocers  obtained  the  important  right 
6f  sharing  the  office  of  garbeller  of  spices  with  the 
City.     The  garbeller  had   the  right  to  enter  any 
shop  or  warehouse  to  view  and  search  for  drugs, 
and  to  garble  and  cleanse  them.     The  office  gra- 
dually fell  into  desuetude,  and  is  last  mentioned  in 
the  Company's  books  in  July,  1687,  when  the  City 
garbeller  paid  a  fine  of  ^2^50,  and  20s.  per  annum, 
for  leave  to  hold  his  office  for  life.     The  Grocers 
seem  to  have  at  one  time  dealt  in  whale-oil  and  wool. 
During  the  Civil  War  the  Grocers  suffered,  like 
all  their  brother  companies.     In  1645,  the  Parlia- 
ment exacted  ;^5o  per  week  from  them  towards 
the  support  of  troops,  jQ6  for  City  defences,  ond 
^2>  for  wounded  soldiers.    The  Company  had  soon 
to  sell  ;^i,ooo  worth  of  plate.     A  further  demand 
for  arms,  and  a  sum  of  ;;^4,5oo  for  the  defence  of 
the  City,  drove  them  to  sell  all  the  rest  of  their 
plate,  except  the  value  of  ^^300.      In  1645,  the 
watchful  Committee  of  Safety,  sitting  at   Haber- 
dashers' Hall,  finding  the  Company  indebted  ;!^5oo 
to  one  Richard  Greenough,  a  Cavalier  delinquent, 
compelled  them  to  pay  that  sum. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  the  Grocers  shouted  at 
the  Restoration,  spent  ;^54o  on  the  coronation 
pageant,  and  provided  sixty  riders  at  Charles's 
noisy  entrance  into  London.  The  same  year.  Sir 
John  Frederick,  being  chosen  Mayor,  and  not 
being,  as  rule  required,  a  member  of  one  of  the 
twelve  Great  Companies,  left  the  Barber  Chinir- 
geons,  and  joined  the  Grocers,  who  welcomed  him 
with  a  great  pageant.  In  1664,  the  Grocers  took 
a  zealous  part  with  their  friends  and  allies,  the 
Druggists,  against  the  College  of  Physicians,  who 
were  trying  to  obtain  a  bill  granting  them  power  of 
search,  seizure,  fine,  and  imprisonment.  The  Plague 
year  no  election  feast  was  held.  The  Great  Fire 
followed,  and  not  only  greatly  damaged  Grocers' 


432 


OLD   AND    NEW   LONDON. 


[Old  Jewry. 


Hall,  but  also  consumed  the  whole  of  their  house 
property,  excepting  a  few  small  tenements  in  Grub 
Street.  They  found  it  necessary  to  .try  and  raise 
;^2o,ooo  to  pay  their  debts,  to  sell  their  melted 
plate,  and  to  add  ninety-four  members  to  the  livery. 
Only  succeeding,  amid  the  general  distress,  in  raising 
;^6,ooo,  the  Company  was  almost  bankrupt,  their 
hall  being  seized,  and  attachments  laid  on  their 
rent.  By  a  great  eflfort,  however,  they  wore  round, 
called  more  freemen  on  the  livery,  and  added  in 


Canning,  &c.     Of  Grocer   Mayors,  Strype   notes 
sixty-four  between  1231  and  17 10  alone. 

The  garden  of  the  Hall  must  have  been  a  pleasant 
place  in  the  old  times,  as  it  is  now.  It  is  mentioned 
in  1427  as  having  vines  spreading  up  before  the 
parlour  windows.  It  had  also  an  arbour;  and  in 
1433  it  was  generously  thrown  open  to  the  citizens 
generally,  who  had  petitioned  for  this  privilege. 
It  contained  hedge-rows  and  a  bowling  alley,  with 
an  ancient  tower  of  stone  or  brick,  called  "  the 


EXTERIOR  OF  GROCERS'  HALL. 


two  months  eighty-one  new  members  to  the  Court 
of  Assistants;  so  that  before  the  Revolution  of 
i688  they  had  restored  their  hall  and  mowed  down 
most  of  their  rents.  Indeed,  one  of  their  most 
brilliant  epochs  was  in  1689,  when  William  IIL 
accepted  the  office  of  their  sovereign  master. 

Some  writers  credit  the  Grocers'  Company  with 
the  enrolment  of  five  kings,  several  princes,  eight 
dukes,  three  earls,  and  twenty  lords.  Of  these  five 
kings,  Mr.  Herbert  could,  however,  only  trace 
Charles  11.  and  William  III.  Their  list  of 
honorary  members  is  one  emblazoned  with  many 
great  names,  including  Sir  Philip  Sidney  (at  whose 
funeral  they  assisted),  Pitt,  Lord  Chief  Justice 
Tenterden,   the    Marquis   of   Comwallis,   George 


Turret,"  at  the  north-west  corner,  which  had  pro- 
bably formed  part  of  Lord  Fitzwalter's  mansion. 
The  garden  remained  unchanged  till  the  new  hall 
was  built  in  1798,  when  it  was  much  curtailed,  and 
in  1802  it  was  nearly  cut  in  half  by  the  enlargement 
of  Princes  Street.  For  ground  which  had  cost  the 
Grocers,  in  1433,  only  £zi  17s.  8d.,  they  received 
from  the  Bank  of  England  more  than  ;^2o,ooo. 

The  Hall  was  often  lent  for  dinners,  funerals, 
county  feasts,  and  weddings  ;  and  in  1564  the  gen- 
tlemen of  Gray's  Inn  dined  there  with  the  gentle- 
men of  the  Middle  Temple.  This  system  breeding 
abuses,  was  limited  in  16 10. 

In  the  time  of  the  Commonwealth,  Grocers'  Hall 
was  the  place  of  meeting  for  Parliamentary  Com- 


Old  Jewrj'.] 


GROCERS'    FEASTS    DURING    THE    COMMONWEALTH. 


433 


mittees.  Among  other  subjects  there  discussed, 
we  find  the  selection  of  able  ministers  to  regulate 
Church  government,  and  providing  moneys  for  the 
army;  and  in  1641  the  Grand  Committee  of  Safety 
held  its  sittings  in  this  Hall. 

In  1648  the  Grocery   had  to  petition  General  ! 


trumpet — a  feast,  indeed,  of  Christians  and  chief- 
tains, whereas  others  were  rather  of  Chretiens  and 
cormorants."  The  surplus  food  was  sent  to  the 
London  prisons,  and  ;^4o  distributed  to  the  poor. 
The  Aldermen  and  Council  afterwards  went  to 
General  Fairfax  at  his  house  in  Queen  Street,  and, 


INTERIOR    OF    GROCERS'    HALL. 


Fairfax  not  to  quarter  his  troops  in  the  hall 
of  a  charitable  Company  lik-e  theirs.  In  1649  a 
grand  entertainment  was  given  by  the  Grocers  to 
Cromwell  and  Fairfax.  After  hearing  two  sermons 
at  Christ's  Church,  preached  by  Mr.  Goodwin  and 
Dr.  Owen,  Cromwell,  his  officers,  the  Speaker,  and 
the  judges,  dined  together.  "  No  drinking  of 
healths,"  says  a  Puritan  paper  of  the  time,  "  nor 
other  uncivill  concomitants  formerly  of  such  great 
meetings,  nor  any  other  music  than  the  drum  and 
37 


in  the  name  of  the  City,  presented  him  with  a  large 
basin  and  ewer  of -beaten  gold;  while  to  Cromwell 
they  sent  a  great  present  of  plate,  value  ;!^3oo,  and 
200  pieces  of  gold.  They  afterwards  gave  a  still 
grander  feast  to  Cromwell  in  his  more  glorious 
time,  and  one  at  the  Restoration  to  General  Monk. 
On  the  latter  feast  they  expended  ^^215,  and  en- 
rolled "  honest  George  "  a  brother  of  the  Company. 
The  Grocers'  Hall  might  never  have  been  rebuilt 
after  the  Great  Fire,  so  crippled  was  the  Company, 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


„ ,,. , _.  [Oldjewry. 

434 

but  for  the  munificence  of  Sil  John  Cutler,  a  nch  :  freebooter,  and  took  fifteen  Spanish   ships.      He 
Grocer  whom  Pope  (not  always  regardful  of  truth)  j  afterwards  transported  an  English  army  to  Brittany 


has  bitterly  satirised 

Sir  John  rebuilt  the  parlour  and  dining-room  in 
1668-9,  and  was  rewarded  by  "a  strong  vote  of 
thanks,"  and  by  his  statue  11  nd  picture  being  pbced 
in  the  Halt  as  eternal  records  of  the  Company's 
esteem  and  gratitude.     Two  years  later  Grocers' 


in  his  own  ships,  and  released  more  than  1,000  of 
our  victualling  vessels.  John  Churchman,  sheriff  in 
1385,  was  the  founder  of  the  Custom  House.  Sir 
Thomas  KnoUes,  mayor  in  1399  and  1410,  re- 
built St.  Antholin's,  Watling  Street.  Sir  Robert 
Chichele    (a   relation   of    Archbishop    Chichelc), 


Hall  was  granted  to  the  parishioners  of  St.  Mildred  j  mayor  in  1411-1^,  L^-^'-'e  the  ground  for  rebuilding 


as  a  chap-1  till  their  own  church  could  be  rebuilt 
The  garden  turret,  used  as  a  record  office,  was  fitted 
up  for  the  clerk's  residence,  and  a  meeting  place 
for  the  court ;  and,  "  for  better   order,  decorum, 


the  church  of  St.  Stephen,  Walbrook,  which  his  de- 
scendant. Sir  Thomas  (Mayor  and  Grocer),  helped 
to  rebuild  after  the  Great  Fire.  Sir  William 
Sevenoke  was  founder  of  the  school  and  college  at 


and  gravity,"  pipes  and  pots  were  forbidden  in  the    Sev.noaks  Ken.     S.r  Jo  >n  We  ,es  mayor  .„ 


court-room  during  the  meetings. 

At  Grocers'  Hall,  "to  my  great  surprise,"  says 
vivacious  Pennant,  "  I  met  again  with  Sir  John 
Cutler,  Grocer,  in  marble  and  on  canvas.  In  the 
first  he  is  represented  standing,  in  a  flowing  wig, 
waved  rather  than  curled,  a  laced  cravat,  and  a 
furred  gown,  with  the  folds  not  ungraceful ;  in  all, 
except  where  the  dress  is  inimical  to  the  sculptor's 
art,  it  may  be  called  a  good  performance.  By  his 
portrait  we  may  learn  that  this  worthy  wore  a  black 
wig,  and  was  a  good-looking  man.  He  was  created 
a  baronet,  November  12th,  1660;  .so  that  he  cer- 
tainly had  some  claim  of  gratitude  with  the  restored 
monarch.  He  died  in  1693.  His  kinsman  and 
executor,  Edmund  Boulton,  Esq.,  expended  ^7.666 
on  his  funeral  expenses.  He  served  as  Master  of 
the  Company  in  1652  and  1653,  in  1688,  and  again 
a  fourth  time." 

In  1 68 1  the  Hall  was  renovated  at  an  expense 
of  ^500,  by  Sir  John  Moore,  so  as  to  make  it  fit 
for  the  residence  of  the  Lord  Mayor.  Moore  kept 
his  mayoralty  here,  paying  a  rent  of  ;:^2oo.  It 
continued  to  be  used  by  the  Lord  Mayors  till  1735, 
when  the  Company,  now  grown  rich,  withdrew  their 
permission.     In   1694  it  was  let  to    the  Bank  of 


built  the  Standard  in  Chepe,  helped  to  build  the 
Guildhall  Chapel,  built  the  south  aisle  of  St.  An- 
tholin's, and  repaired  the  miry  way  leading  to 
Westminster  (the  Strand).  Sir  Stejihen  Brown, 
mayor,  1438,  imported  cargoes  of  rye  fiom  Dant/ic, 
during  a  great  dearth,  and  as  Fuller  quaintly  says, 
"first  showed  Londoners  the  way  to  the  barn  door." 
Sir  John  Crosby  (Grocer  and  Sheriff  in  1483),  lived 
in  great  splendour  at  Crosby  House,  in  Bishops- 
gate  Street ;  he  gave  great  sums  for  civic  purposes, 
and  repaired  London  Wall,  London  Bridge,  and 
Bishopsgate.  Sir  Henry  Keble  (mayor,  15 10)  was 
six  times  Master  of  the  Grocers'  Company  :  he  left 
bequests  to  the  Company,  and  gave  ;^i,ooo  to 
rebuild  St.  Antholin's,  Budge  Row.  Lawrence 
Sheriff,  Warden  1561,  was  founder  of  the  great 
school  at  Rugby. 

"  The  rivulet  or  running  water,"  says  Maitland, 
"  denominated  Walbrook,  ran  through  the  middle 
of  the  city  above  ground,  till  about  the  middle  of 
the  fourteenth  century,  when  it  was  arched  over, 
since  which  time  it  has  served  as  a  common  sewer, 
wherein,  at  the  depth  of  sixteen  feet,  under  St. 
Mildred's  Church  steeple,  runs  a  great  and  rapid 
stream.    At  the  south-east  corner  of  Grocers'  Alley, 


Enrdand,who  held  their  court  there  till  the  Bank    in   the   Poultry,   stood  a  beautiful   chapel,  called 


was  built  in  1734.  The  Company's  present  hall 
was  built  in  1802,  and  repaired  in  1827,  since 
which  the  whole  has  been  restored,  the  statue  of  Sir 
John  Cutler  moved  from  its  neglected  post  in  the 
garden,  and  the  arms  of  the  most  illustrious  Grocers 
of  antiquity  set  up. 

The  Grocers'  charities  are  numerous  ;  they  give 
away  annually  ;^3oo  among  the  poor  of  the  Com- 
pany, and  they  have  had  ;^4,67o  left  them  to  lend 
to  poor  members  of  the  community.  Before  i770)' 
Boyle  says,  the  Company  gave  away  about  ;^7  00 
a  year. 

Among  the  bravest  of  the  Grocers,  we  must 
mention  Sir  John  Philpot,  Mayor,  1378,  who  fitted 
out  a  fleet  that  captured  John  Mercer,  a  Scotch 


Corpus  Christi  and  Sancta  Maria,  which  was 
founded  in  the  reign  of  Edward  III.  by  a  pious 
man,  for  a  master  and  brethren,  for  whose  support 
he  endowed  the  same  with  lands,  to  the  amount  of 
twenty  pounds  per  annum." 

"It  hath  been  a  common  speech,"  says  Stow 
(Elizabeth),  "that  when  Walbrook  did  lie  open, 
barges  w^ere  rowed  out  of  the  Thames,  or  towed 
up  so  far,  and  therefore  the  place  hath  ever  since 
been  called  //ic  Old  Barge.  Also,  on  the  north 
side  of  this  street,  directly  over  against  the  said 
Bucklersbury,  was  one  antient  strong  tower  of 
stone,  at  which  tower  King  Edward  III.,  in  the 
eighteentli  of  his  reign,  by  the  name  of  the  King'? 
House,   called    Cornets    Toivn;    in    London,   did 


The  Mansion  House.] 


EUCKLERSBURY   IN   OLDEN   TIMES. 


43i) 


appoint  to  be  his  exchange  of  money  there  to  be 
kept.  In  the  twenty-ninth  he  granted  it  to  Frydus 
Giiynisane  and  Lindus  Bardoile,  merchants  of  Lon- 
don for  ;^2o  the  year  ;  and  in  the  thirty-second  of 
his  reign,  he  gave  it  to  his  college,  or  Free  Chapel 
of  St.  Stephen,  at  Westminster,  by  the  name  of 
his  tower,  called  Cornettes-Tower,  at  Bucklesbury, 
in  London.  This  tower  of  late  years  was  taken 
down  by  one  Buckle,  a  grocer,  meaning,  in  place 
thereof,  to  have  set  up  and  builded  a  goodly  frame 
of  timber  ;  but  the  said  Buckle  greedily  labouring 
to  pull  down  the  old  tower,  a  piece  thereof  fell 
upon  him,  which  so  bruised  him,  that  his  life  was 
thereby  shortened ;  and  another,  that  married  his 
widow,  set  up  the  new  prepared  frame  of  timber, 
and  finished  the  work. 

"This  whole  street,  called  Bucklesbury,  on  both 
sides,  throughout,  is  possessed  by  grocers,  and 
apothecaries  toward  the  west  end  thereof.  On  the 
south  side  breaketh  out  some  other  short  lane, 
called  in  records  Peneritch  Street.  It  reacheth  but 
to  St.  Syth's  Lane,  and  St.  Syth's  Church  is  the 
farthest  part  thereof,  for  by  the  west  end  of  the 
said  church  beginneth  Needlers  Lane." 

"  I  have  heard,"  says  Pennant,  "  that  Bucklers- 
bury  was,  in  the  reign  of  King  William,  noted  for 
the  great  resort  of  ladies  of  fashion,  to  purchase  tea, 
fans,  and  other  Indian  goods.  Kihg  William,  in 
some  of  his  letters,  appears  to  be  angry  with  his 
queen  for  visiting  these  shops,  wliich,  it  would 
seem,  by  the  following  lines  of  Prior,  were  some- 
times perverted  to  places  of  intrigue,  for,  speaking 
of  Hans  Carvel's  wife,  the  poet  says  : — 

"  '  The  first  of  all  the  Town  was  told, 
Where  newest  Indian  things  were  sold  ; 
So  in  a  morning,  without  boddice, 
Slipt  sometimes  out  to  Mrs.  Thody's, 
To  cheapen  tea,  or  buy  a  skreen  ; 
What  else  could  so  much  virtue  mean  ? '  " 

In  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth  this  street  was 


inliabited  by  chemists,  druggists,  and  apothecaries. 
Mouffet,  in  his  treatise  on  foods,  calls  on  them  to 
decide  whether  sweet  smells  correct  pestilent  air ; 
and  adds,  that  Bucklersbury  being  replete  with 
physic,  drugs,  and  spicery,  and  being  perfumed 
in  the  time  of  the  plague  with  the  pounding 
of  spices,  melting  of  gum,  and  making  perfumes, 
escaped  that  great  plague,  whereof  such  mul- 
titudes died,  that  scarce  any  house  was  left  un- 
visited, 

Shakespeare  mentions  Bucklersbury  in  his  Merry 
Wives  of  Windsor,  written  at  Queen  Elizabeth's 
request.    He  makes  FalstafF  say  to  Mrs.  Ford — 

"What  made  me  love  thee?  Let  that  persuade  thee, 
there's  something  extraordinary  in  thee.  Come,  I  cannot 
cog,  and  say  thou  art  this  and  that,  like  a  many  of  these 
lisping  hawthorn-buds,  that  come  like  v.-omen  in  men's  ap- 
parel, and  smell  like  Bucklersbury  in  simple-time  ;  I  cannot ; 
but  I  love  thee,  none  but  thee,  and  thou  deservedst  it." 
{Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  act  iii.,  sc.  3. ) 

The  apothecaries'  street  is  also  mentioned  in 
Westward  Ho  !  that  dangerous  play  that  brought 
Ben  Jonson  into  trouble  : — 

"  Mrs.  Tenterhook.  Go  into  Bucklersbury,  and  fetch  me 
two  ounces  of  preserved  melons  ;  look  there  be  no  tobacco 
taken  in  the  shop  when  he  weighs  it. " 

And  Ben  Johnson,  in  a  self-asserting  poem  to  his 
bookseller,  says  : — 

"Nor  have  my  title-leaf  on  post  or  walls, 
Or  in  cleft  slicks  advanced  to  make  calls 
For  termers,  or  some  clerk-like  serving  man, 
Who  scarce  can  spell  th'  hard  names,  whose  knight 
If  without  these  vile  arts  it  will  not  sell,  [less  can. 

Send  it  to  Bucklersbury,  there  'twill  well." 

That  good  old  Norwich  physician.  Sir  Thomas 
Browne,  also  alludes  to  the  herbalists'  street  in  his 
wonderful  "  Religio  Medico  :  " — "  I  know,"  says 
he,  "  most  of  the  plants  of  my  country,  and  of 
those  about  me,  yet  methinks  I  do  not  know  so 
many  as  when  I  did  but  know  a  hundred,  and  had 
scarcely  ever  simpled  further  than  Cheapside." 


CHAPTER    XXXVIIL 
THE     MANSION     HOUSE. 

The  Palace  of  the  Lord  Mayor— The  old  Stocks'  Market— A  Notable  Statue  of  Charles  II.— The  Mansion  House  described— The  Egyptian  Hall- 
Works  of  Art  in  the  Mansion  House — The  Election  of  the  Lord  Mayor — Lord  Mayor's  Day — The  Duties  of  a  Lord  ^L^yor— Days  of  the 
Year  on  which  the  Lord  ISLayor  holds  High  State— The  Patronage  of  the  Lord  Mayor— His  Powers — The  Lieutenancy  of  the  City  of  London 
— The  Conservancy  of  the  Thames  and  Medway — The  Lord  Mayor's  Advisers; — The  Mansion  House  Household  and  Expenditure— Theodore 
Hook— Lord  Mayor  Scropps— The  Lord  Mayor's  Insignia— The  State  Barge— The  Maria  Wood. 

The  Lord  Mayors  in  old  times  often  dwelt  in  the  I  1753,  was  the  first  Lord  Mayor  that  resided  in  it. 
neighbourhood  of  the  Old  Jewry;  but  in  1739  Lord    The  architect.  Dance,  selected  the  Greek  style  for 
Mayor  Perry  laid  the  first  stone  of  the  present  dull    the  City  palace. 
and  stately  Mansion  House,  and  Sir  Crisp  Gascoigne,  |      The  present  palace  of  the  Lord  Mayor  stands  on 


43^ 


OLD  AND    NEW    LONDON. 


[The  Mansion  TToiise, 


the  site  of  the  old  Stocks'  Market,  built  for  the  sale 
of  fish  and  flesh  by  Henry  Walis,  mayor  in  the 
loth  year  of  the  reign  of  Edward  I.  Before  tliis 
time  a  pair  of  stocks  had  stood  there,  and  they 
gave  their  name  to  the  new  market  house.  Walis 
had  designed  this  market  to  help  to  maintain 
London  Bridge,  and  the  bridge  keeper  had  for  a 
long  time  power  to  grant  leases  for  the  market 
shops.  In  13 1 2-13,  John  de  Gisors,  mayor,  gave 
a  congregation  of  honest  men  of  the  commonalty 
the  power  of  letting  the  Stocks'  Market  shops.  In 
the  reign  of  Edward  II.  the  Stocks  let  for  £46 
13s.  4d.  a  year,  and  was  one  of  the  five  privileged 
markets  of  London.  It  was  rebuilt  in  the  reign 
of  Henry  IV.,  and  in  the  year  1543  there  were 
here  twenty-five  fishmongers  and  eighteen  butchers. 
In  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  a  stone  conduit  was 
erected.  The  market-place  was  about  230  feet 
long  and  108  feet  broad,  and  on  the  east  side 
were  rows  of  trees  "  very  pleasant  to  the  inhabi- 
tants." On  the  north  .-jide  were  twenty-two  covered 
fruit  stalls,  at  the  south-west  corner  butchers'  stalls, 
and  the  rest  of  the  place  was  taken  up  by  gardeners 
who  sold  fruit,  roots,  herbs  and  flowers.  It  is  said 
that  that  rich  scented  flower,  the  stock,  derived  its 
name  from  being  sold  in  this  market. 

"  Up  farther  north,"  says  Strype,  "  is  the  Stocks' 
Market.  As  to  the  present  state  of  which  it  is  con- 
verted to  a  quite  contrary  use ;  for  instead  of  fish 
and  flesh  sold  there  before  the  Fire,  are  now  sold 
fruits,  roots  and  herbs ;  for  which  it  is  very  con- 
siderable and  much  resorted  unto,  being  of  note 
for  having  the  choicest  in  their  kind  of  all  sorts, 
surpassing  all  other  markets  in  London."  "All 
these  tilings  have  we  at  London,"  says  Shadwell, 
in  his  "Bury  Fair,"  1689;  "the  produce  of  the 
best  corn-fields  at  Greenhithe ;  hay,  straw,  and 
cattle  at  Smithfield,  with  horses  too.  Where  is  such 
a  garden  in  Europe  as  the  Stocks'  Market  ?  where 
such  a  river  as  the  Thames?  such  ponds  and 
decoys  as  in  Leadenhall  market  for  your  fish  and 
fowl?" 

"At  the  north  end  of  the  market  place,"  says 
Strype,  admiringly,  "by  a  water  conduit  pipe,  is 
erected  a  nobly  great  statue  of  King  CJiarles  II.  on 
horseback,  trampling  on  slaves,  standing  on  a 
pedestal  with  dolphins  cut  in  niches,  all  of  free- 
stone, and  encompassed  with  handsome  iron  grates. 
This  statue  was  made  and  erected  at  the  sole 
charge  of  Sir  Robert  Viner,  alderman,  knight  and 
baronet,  an  honourable,  worthy,  and  generous  ma- 
gistrate of  this  City." 

This  statue  of  Charles  had  a  droll  origin.  It 
was  originally  intended  for  a  statue  of  John 
Sobieski,  the  Polish  king  who  saved  Vienna  from 


the  Turks.  In  the  first  year  of  the  Restoration, 
the  enthusiastic  Viner  purchased  the  unfinished 
statue  abroad.  Sobieski's  stern  head  was  removed 
by  Latham,  the  head  of  Charies  substituted,  and 
the  turbaned  Turk,  on  whom  Sobieski  trampled, 
became  a  defeated  Cromwell. 

"Could  Robin  Viner  have  foreseen 

The  glorious  triumphs  of  his  master, 
The  Wood-Church  statue  gold  had  been, 

Which  now  is  made  of  alabaster  ; 
But  wise  men  think,  had  it  been  wood, 
'Twere  for  a  bankrupt  king  too  good. 

"Those  that  the  fabric  well  consider, 
Do  of  it  diversely  discourse  ; 
Some  pass  their  censure  of  the  rider, 

Others  their  jtidgment  of  the  horse  ; 
Most  say  the  steed's  a  goodly  thing, 
Bui  all  agree  'tis  a  lewd  king." 
{The  History  of  Jnsipids ;  a  Lampoon,   1676,  by  the  Lord 
Rochester. ) 

The  statue  was  set  up  May  29,  1672,  and  on 
that  day  the  Stocks'  Market  ran  with  claret.  The 
Stocks'  Market  was  removed  in  1737  to  Farringdon 
Street,  and  was  then  called  Fleet  Market.  The 
I  Sobieski  statue  was  taken  down  and  presented  by 
the  City  in  1779  to  Robert  Viner,  Esq.,  a  descen- 
dant of  the  convivial  mayor  who  pulled  Charles  II. 
back  "  to  take  t'other  bottle." 

"  This  Mansion  House,"  says  Dodsley's  "  Guide 
to  London,"  "  is  very  substantially  built  of  Portland 
stone,  and  has  a  portico  of  six  lofty  fluted  columns, 
of  the  Corinthian  order,  in  the  front;  the  same 
order  being  continued  in  pilasters  both  under  the 
pediment,  and  on  each  side.  The  basement  storey 
is  very  massive  and  built  in  rustic.  In  the  centre 
of  this  storey  is  the  door  which  leads  to  the  kitchens, 
cellars,  and  other  offices  ;  and  on  each  side  rises  a 
fligh:  of  steps  of  very  considerable  extent,  leading 
up  to  the  portico,  in  the  midst  of  vrhich  is  the  door 
which  leads  to  the  apartments  and  offices  where 
business  is  transacted.  The  stone  balustrade  of 
the  stairs  is  continued  along  the  front  of  the 
portico,  and  the  columns,  which  are  wrought  in  the 
proportions  of  Palladio,  support  a  large  angular 
pediment,  adorned  with  a  very  noble  piece  in  bas- 
relief,  representing  the  dignity  and  opulence  of  the 
City  of  London,  by  Mr.  Taylor." 

The  lady  crowned  with  turrets  represents  London. 
She  is  trampling  on  Envy,  who  lies  struggling  on 
her  back.  London's  left  arm  rests  on  a  shield, 
and  in  her  right  she  holds  a  wand  which  mightily 
resembles  a  yard  measure.  On  her  right  side 
stands  a  Cupid,  holding  the  cap  of  Liberty  over  his 
shoulder  at  the  end  of  a  staff.  A  little  further  lolls 
the  river  Thames,  who  is  emptying  a  large  vase, 
and  near  him  is  an  anchor  and  cable.     On  London's 


I'lie  il.uioion  House.] 


THE   BEAUTIES   OF   THE   MANSION    HOUSE. 


437 


left  is  Plenty,  kneeling  and  pouring  out  fruit  from 
a  cornucopia,  and  behind  Plenty  are  two  naked 
boys  with  bales  of  goods,  as  emblems  of  Com- 
merce. The  complaint  is  that  the  principal  figures 
are  too  large,  and  crowd  the  rest,  who,  compelled 
to  grow  smaller  and  smaller,  seem  sheltering  from 
the  rain. 

Beneath  the  portico  are  two  series  of  windows, 
and  above  these  there  used  to  be  an  attic  storey 
for  the  servants,  generally  known  as  "  the  Mayor's 
Nest,''  with  square  windows,  crowned  with  a  balus- 
trade.    It  is  now  removed. 

The  Mansion  House  is  an  oblong,  has  an  area 
in  the  middle,  and  at  the  farthest  end  of  it  is 
situated  the  grand  and  lofty  Egyptian  Hall  (so 
called  from  some  Egyptian  details  that  have  now 
disappeared).  This  noble  banquet-room  was  de- 
signed by  the  Earl  of  Burlington,  and  was  intended 
to  resemble  an  Egyptian  chamber  described  by 
Vitruvius.  It  has  two  side-screens  of  lofty  columns 
supporting  a  vaulted  roof,  and  is  lit  by  a  large  west 
window.  It  can  dine  400  guests.  In  the  side 
walls  are  the  niches,  filled  with  sculptured  groups 
or  figures,  some  of  the  best  of  them  by  Foley. 
"  To  make  it  regular  in  rank,"  says  the  author  of 
"London  and  its  Environs"  (1761),  "the  archi- 
tect has  raised  a  similar  building  on  the  front, 
which  is  the  upper  part  of  a  dancing-gallery.  This 
rather  hurts  than  adorns  the  face  of  the  building." 
Near  the  end,  at  each  side,  is  a  window  of  extra- 
ordinary height,  placed  between  complex  Corinthian 
pilasters,  and  extending  to  the  top  of  the  attic 
storey.  In  former  times  the  sides  of  the  Mansion 
House  were  darkened  by  the  houses  that  crowded 
it,  and  the  front  required  an  area  before  it.  It  has 
been  seriously  proposed  lately  to  take  the  Poultry 
front  of  the  Mansion  House  away,  and  place  it 
west,  facing  Queen  Victoria  Street.  In  a  London 
Guide  of  1820  the  state  bed  at  the  Mansion  House, 
which  cost  three  thousand  guineas,  is  spoken  of 
xnth  awe  and  wonder. 

There  are,  says  Timbs,  other  dining-rooms,  as 
the  Venetian  Parlour,  Wilkes's  Parlour,  &c.  The 
drawing-room  and  ball-room  are  superbly  decorated ; 
above  the  latter  is  the  Justice-room  (constructed  in 
1849),  where  the  Lord  Mayor  'sits  daily.  In  a 
contiguous  apartment  was  the  state  bed.  There  is 
a  fine  gallery  of  portraits  and  other  pictures.  The 
kitchen  is  a  large  hall,  provided  with  ranges,  each 
of  them  large  enough  to  roast  an  entire  ox.  The 
vessels  for  boiling  vegetables  are  not  pots,  but 
tanks.  The  stewing  range  is  a  long,  broad  iron 
pavement  laid  down  over  a  series  of  furnaces.  The 
spits  are  iiuge  cages  ■  formed  of  iron  bars,  and 
turned  by  machinery. 


At  the  close  of  the  Exhibition  of  1851,  the  Cor- 
poration of  London,  with  a  view  to  encourage  art, 
voted  ;^i 0,000  to  be  expended  in  statuary  for  the 
Egyptian  Hall.  Among  the  leading  works  we  may 
mention  "Alastor"  and  "  Hermione,"  by  Mr.  J. 
Durham  ;  "  Egeria "  and  "  The  Elder  Brother," 
in  "  Comus,"  by  Mr.  J.  H.  Foley  j  Chaucer's 
"Griselda,"  by  Mr.  Calder  Marshall;  "The 
Morning  Star,"  by  Mr.  G.  H.  Bailey;  and  "The 
Faithful  Shepherdess,"  by  Mr.  Lucas  Durrant.  In 
the  saloon  is  the  "  Caractacus  "  of  Foley,  and  the 
"  Sardanapalus  "  of  Mr.  Weekes. 

The  duties  of  a  Lord  Mayor  have  been  elaborately 
and  carefully  condensed  by  the  late  Mr.  Fairholt, 
who  had  made  City  ceremonies  the  study  of  half 
his  life. 

"None,"  says  our  authority,  "can  serve  the  office 
of  Lord  Mayor  unless  he  be  an  alderman  of 
London,  who  must  previously  have  served  the 
office  of  sheriff,  though  it  is  not  necessary  that  a 
sheriff  should  be  an  alderman.  The  sheriffs  are 
elected  by  tlie  livery  of  London,  the  only  requisite 
for  the  office  being,  that  he  is  a  freeman  and  liver)'- 
man  of  the  City,  and  that  he  possesses  property 
sufficient  to  serve  the  office  of  sheriff  creditablv,  in 
all  its  ancient  splendour  and  hospitality,  to  do 
which  generally  involves  an  expenditure  of  about 
;^3,ooo.  There  are  fees  averaging  from  ^{^500  to 
;^6oo  belonging  to  the  office,  but  these  are  given 
to  the  under-sheriff  by  all  respectable  and  honour- 
able men,  as  it  is  considered  very  disreputable  for 
the  sheriff  to  take  any  of  them. 

"  The  Lord  Mayor  has  the  privilege,  on  any  day 
between  the  14th  of  April  and  the  14th  of  June,  of 
nominating  any  one  or  more  persons  (not  exceeding 
nine  in  the  whole)  to  be  submitted  to  the  Livery 
on  Midsummer  Day,  for  them  to  elect  the  two 
sheriffs  for  the  year  ensuing.  This  is  generally 
done  at  a  public  dinner,  when  the  Lord  Mayor 
proposes  the  healths  of  such  persons  as  he  intends 
to  nominate  for  sheriffs.  It  is  generally  done  as  a 
compliment,  and  considered  as  an  honour ;  but  in 
those  cases  where  the  parties  have  an  objection  to 
serve,  it  sometimes  gives  offence,  as,  upon  the 
Lord  Mayor  declaring  in  the  Court  of  Aldermen  the 
names  of  those  he  proposes,  the  mace-bearer  im- 
mediately waits  upon  them,  and  gives  them  formal 
notice  ;  when,  if  they  do  not  intend  to  serve,  they 
are  excused,  upon  paying,  at  the  next  Court  of 
Aldermen,  four  hundred  guineas  ;  but  if  they  allow 
their  names  to  remain  on  the  list  until  elected  by 
the  livery,  the  fine  is  ;,^i,ooo. 

"The  Lord  Ma3^or  is  elected  by  the  Livery  of 
London,  in  Common  Hall  assembled  (Guildhall),  on 
Michaelmas  Day,  the  29th  of  September,  previous 


41^ 


OLD  ANt>  New  London^ 


[I'he  Mansion  Mouse. 


to  which  election  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Corporation 
attend  church  in  state :  and  on  their  return,  the 
names  of  all  the  aldermen  who  have  not  served  the 
office  of  Lord  Mayor  are  submitted  in  rotation  by 
the  Recorder,  and  the  show  of  hands  taken  upon 
each ;  when  the  sheriffs  declare  which  two  names 
have  the  largest  show  of  hands,  and  these  two  are 
returned  to  the  Court  of  Aldermen,  who  elect  one 
to  be  the  Lord  Mayor  for  the  year  ensuing.  (The 
office  is  compulsory  to  an  alderman,  but  he  is  ex- 


forth,  the  chain  put  round  his  neck,  and  he  returns 
thanks  to  the  livery  for  the  honour  they  have  con- 
ferred upon  him.  He  is  now  styled  the  *  Right 
Honourable  the  Lord  Mayor  elect,'  and  takes  rank 
next  to  the  Lord  Mayor,  who  takes  him  home  in 
the  state  carriage  to  the  Mansion  House,  to  dine 
with  the  aldermen.  This  being  his  first  ride  in  the 
state  coach,  a  fee  of  a  guinea  is  presented  to  the 
coachman,  and  half-a-guinea  to  the  postilion ;  the 
City  trumpeters  who  attend  also  receive  a  gratuity. 


THE    MAN.^10N     ilUUiE    KITCHEN. 


cused  upon  the  payment  of  ;;^i,ooo.)  The  one 
selected  is  generally  the  one  next  in  rotation,  unless 
he  has  not  paid  twenty  shillings  in  the  pound,  or 
there  is  any  blot  in  his  private  character,  for  it  does 
not  follow  that  an  alderman  having  served  the 
office  of  sheriff  must  necessarily  become  Lord 
Mayor;  the  selection  rests  first  with  the  livery, 
and  afterwards  with  the  Court  of  Aldermen ;  and 
in  case  of  bankruptcy,  or  compounding  with  his 
creditors,  an  alderman  is  pissed  over,  and  even  a 
junior  put  in  his  place,  until  he  has  paid  twenty 
shillings  in  the  pound  to  all  his  creditors.  The 
selection  being  made  from  the  nominees,  the  Lord 
Mayor  and  aldermen  return  to  the  livery,  and  the 
Recorder  declares  upon  whom  the  choice  of  the 
aldermen  has  fallen,  when  he    is   publicly  called 


The  attention  of  the  Lord  Mayor  elect  is  now 
entirely  directed  to  the  establishment  of  his  house- 
hold, and  he  is  beset  by  applications  of  all  sorts, 
and  tradesmen  of  every  grade  and  kind,  until  he 
has  filled  up  his  appointments,  which  must  be  done 
by  the  8th  of  November,  when  he  is  publicly  in- 
stalled in  his  office  in  the  GuildhoU. 

"The  election  of  mayor  is  subject  to  the  appro- 
bation of  the  Crown,  which  is  communicated  by  the 
Lord  Chancellor  to  the  Lord  Mayor  elect,  at  an 
audience  in  the  presence  of  the  Recorder,  who 
presents  him  to  the  Lord  Chancellor  for  the  pur- 
pose of  receiving  Her  Majesty's  pleasure  and  ap- 
probation of  the  man  of  the  City's  choice.  This 
ceremony  is  generally  gone  through  on  the  first 
d.iy  of  Michaelmas  term,  previous  to  receiving  the 


TKc  Mansion  House.) 


THE    LORD    MAYOR    ELECT. 


4oO 


THE   MANSION    HOUSE    IN    1750.    {Fwm  a  Pniit  piblished  for  Stoui's  "  SntTC)'") 


A4<^ 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


tl*he  ilansion  House. 


judges.  The  Lord  Mayor  elect  is  attended  to  the 
Chancellors  private  residence  by  the  aldermen, 
sheriffs,  under-sheriffs,  the  sword-bearers,  and  all 
the  City  ofticers.  In  the  evening  he  gives  his  first 
state  dinner,  in  robes  and  fi.ill-dressed. 

"  On  the  8th  of  November  the  Lord  Mayor  elect 
is  sworn  into  office  publicly  in  Guildhall,  having 
previously  breakfasted  with  the  Lord  Mayor  at 
the  Mansion  House;  they  are  attended  at  this 
ceremony,  as  well  as  at  the  breakfast,  by  the 
members  and  officers  of  the  Court  of  the  Livery 
Company  to  which  they  respectively  belong,  in 
their  gowns.  After  the  swearing  in  at  Guildhall, 
when  the  Mayor  publicly  takes  the  oaths,  accepts 
the  sword,  the  mace,  the  sceptre,  and  the  City  purse, 
he  proceeds  with  the  late  Mayor  to  the  Mansion 
House,  and  they  conjointly  give  what  is  called  the 
*  farewell  dinner ; '  the  Lord  Mayor  elect  proceed- 
ing to  his  own  private  residence  in  the  evening,  a 
few  days  being  allowed  for  the  removal  of  the  late 
Lord  Mayor. 

"  The  next  day,  being  what  is  popularly  known  as 
'Lord  Mayor's  day,'  and  which  is  observed  as  a 
close  holiday  in  the  City,  the  shops  are  closed, 
as  are  also  the  streets  in  all  the  principal  thorough- 
fares, except  for  the  carriages  engaged  in  the  pro- 
cession. He  used  formerly  to  go  to  Westmmster 
Hall  by  water,  in  the  state  barge,  attended  by  the 
state  barges  of  the  City  Companies,  but  now  by 
land,  and  is  again  sworn  in,  in  the  Court  of  Exche- 
quer, to  uphold  and  support  the  Crown,  and  make 
a  due  return  of  all  fines  and  fees  passing  through 
his  office  during  the  year.  He  returns  in  the 
same  state  to  Guildhall  about  thvee  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  (having  left  the  Mansion  House  about 
twelve  o'clock),  where,  in  conjunction  with  the 
Sheriffs,  he  gives  a  most  splendid  banquet  to  the 
Royal  Family,  the  Judges,  Ministers  of  State, 
Ambassadors,  or  such  of  them  as  will  accept  .i.s 
invitation,  the  Corporation,  and  such  distinguished 
foreigners  as  may  be  visiting  in  the  country.  At 
this  banquet  the  King  and  Queen  attend  the  first  i 
year  after  their  coronation ;  it  is  given  at  the  ex- 1 
pense  of  the  City,  and  it  generally  costs  from  eight  | 
to  ten  thousand  pounds ;  but  when  the  City  enter- 
tained the  Prince  of  Wales,  afterwards  George  IV., 
and  the  allied  Sovereigns  in  1 814,  it  cost  twenty 
thousand  pounds.  On  all  other  Lord  Mayor's  days 
the  expense  is  borne  by  the  Lord  Mayor  and  the 
Sheriffs,  the  former  paying  half,  and  the  latter  one- 
fourth  each  ;  the  Mayor's  half  generally  averaging 
from  twelve  to  fourteen  hundred  pounds. 

"The  next  morning  tlie  new  Lord  Mayor  enters 
upon  the  duties  of  his  office.  From  ten  to  twelve 
he  is  engaged  in  giving  audience  to  various  appli- 


cations ;  at  twelve  he  enters  the  justice-room, 
where  he  is  often  detained  until  four  in  the  after- 
noon, and  this  is  his  daily  employment.  His 
lordship  holds  his  first  Court  of  Aldermen  previous 
to  any  other  court,  to  which  he  goes  in  full  state ; 
the  same  week  he  holds  his  first  Court  of  Common 
Council,  also  in  state.  He  attends  the  first  sessions 
of  the  Central  Criminal  Court  at  Justice  Hall,  in 
the  Old  Bailey  ;  being  the  Chief  Commissioner,  he 
takes  precedence  of  all  the  judges,  and  sits  in  a 
chair  in  the  centre  of  the  Bench,  the  sword- 
bearer  placing  the  sword  of  justice  behind  it;  this 
seat  is  never  occupied  in  the  absence  of  the  Lord 
Mayor,  except  by  an  alderman  who  has  passed  the 
chair.  The  Court  is  opened  at  ten  o'clock  on  Mon- 
day ;  the  judges  come  on  Wednesday ;  the  Lord 
Mayor  takes  the  chair  for  an  hour,  and  then  retires 
till  five  o'clock,  when  he  entertains  the  judges  at 
dinner  in  the  Court-house,  which  is  expected  to  be 
done  every  day  during  the  sitting  of  the  Court, 
which  takes  place  every  month,  and  lasts  about 
eight  days ;  the  Lord  Mayor  and  the  sheriffs 
dividing  the  expenses  of  the  table  between  them. 

"  Plough  Monday  is  the  next  grand  day,  when  the 
Lord  Mayor  receives  the  inquest  of  every  ward  in 
the  City,  who  make  a  presentment  of  the  election 
of  all  ward  officers  in  the  City,  who  are  elected  on 
St.  Thomas's  Day,  December  21st,  and  also  of 
any  nuisances  or  grievances  of  which  the  citizens 
may  have  to  complain,  which  are  referred  to  tlic 
Court  of  Aldermen,  who  sit  in  judgment  on  these 
matters  on  the  next  Court  day.  In  former  times, 
on  the  first  Sunday  in  Epiphany,  the  Lord  Mayor, 
Aldermen,  and  Corporation,  went  in  state  to  the 
Church  of  St.  Lawrence,  Guildhall,  and  there  re- 
ceived the  sacrament,  but  this  custom  has  of  late 
years  been  omitted. 

"  If  any  public  fast  is  ordered  by  the  King,  the 
Lord  Mayor  and  Corporation  attend  St.  Paul's 
Cathedral  in  their  black  robes ;  and  if  a  thanks- 
giving, they  appear  in  scarlet.  If  an  address  is  to 
be  presented  to  the  throne,  the  whole  Corporation 
go  in  state,  the  Lord  Mayor  wearing  his  gold  gown. 
(Of  these  gowns  only  a  certain  number  are  allowed, 
by  Act  of  Parliament,  to  public  officers  as  a  costly 
badge  of  distinction ;  the  Lord  Chancellor  and  the 
Master  of  the  Rolls  are  amon^  the  privileged  per- 
sons.) On  Easter  Monday  and  Tuesday  the  Lord 
Mayor  attends  Christ  Church  (of  which  he  is  a 
member),  on  which  occasion  the  whole  of  the  blue- 
coat  boys,  nurses,  and  beadles,  master,  clerk,  and 
other  officers,  walk  in  procession.  The  President, 
freemen,  and  olher  officers  of  the  Royal  Hospital 
attend  the  church  to  hear  the  sermon,  and  a  state- 
ment of  the  income  and  expenditure  of  each  of  the 


The  Mansion  House.)       DUTIES  AND  POWERS  OF  THE  LORD   MAYOR. 


441 


hospitals,  over  which  the  Mayor  has  jurisdiction,  is 
read  from  the  pulpit.  A  public  dinner  is  given  at 
Christ's  Hospital  on  the  Monday  evening,  and  a 
similar  one  at  St.  Bcirtholomew's  on  the  Tuesday. 
On  the  Monday  evening  the  Lord  Mayor  gives  the 
grandest  dinner  of  the  year  in  the  Egyptian  Hall, 
at  the  Mansion  House,  to  400  persons,  at  which 
some  of  the  Royal  Family  often  attend,  a  ball  taking 
place  in  the  evening.  The  next  day,  before  going  to 
church,  the  Lord  Mayor  gives  a  purse  of  fifty 
guineas,  in  sixpences,  shillings,  and  half-crowns, 
to  the  boys  of  Christ's  Hospital,  who  pass  before 
him  through  the  Mansion  House,  each  receiving  a 
piece  of  silver  (fresh  from  the  Mint),  two  plum 
buns,  and  a  glass  of  wine.  On  the  first  Sunday 
in  term  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Corporation  receive 
the  judges  at  St.  Paul's,  and  hear  a  sermon  from 
the  Lord  Mayor's  chaplain,  after  which  his  lord- 
ship entertains  the  party  at  dinner,  either  on  that 
da/  or  any  othei,  according  to  iris  own  feeling  of 
the  propriety  of  Sunday  dinners. 

"  In  the  month  of  May,  when  the  festival  of  the 
Sons  of  the  Clergy  is  generally  held  in  St.  Paul's, 
the  Lord  Mayor  attends,  after  Avhich  the  party  dine 
at  Merchant  Taylors'  Hall.  Some  of  the  Royal 
Family  generally  attend;  always  the  archbishop 
and  a  great  body  of  the  clergy.  In  the  same  month, 
the  Lord  Mayor  attends  St.  Paul's  in  state,  to  hear 
a  sermon  preached  before  the  Society  for  the  Pro- 
pagation of  the  Gospel,  at  which  all  the  bishops 
and  archbishops  attend,  with  others  of  the  clergy ; 
after  which  the  Lord  Mayor  gives  them  a  grand 
dinner;  and  on  another  day  in  the  same  month, 
the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  gives  a  similar  state 
dinner  to  the  Lord  Mayor,  aldermen,  sheriffs,  and 
the  bishops,  at  Lambeth  Palace."  In  June  the 
Lord  Mayor  used  to  attend  the  anniversary  of  the 
Charity  Schools  in  St.  i  :-urs  in  state,  and  in  the 
evening  to  preside  at  the  public  dinner,  but  this 
has  of  late  been  discontinu:.d. 

"On  Midsummer  Day,  th.  Lord  Mayor  holds  a 
common  hall  for  the  election  of  sheriffs  for  the 
ensuing  year;  and  on  the  3rd  of  September,  the 
Lord  Mayor,  aldermen,  and  sheriffs  used  to  go  in 
state  to  proclaim  Bartholomew  Fair,  now  a  thing  of 
the  past.  They  called  at  the  gaol  of  Newgate  on 
their  Avay,  and  the  governor  brought  out  a  cup  of 
wine,  from  which  the  Lord  Mayor  drank. 

"  On  St.  Matthias'  Day  (2  ist  September)  the  Lord 
Mayor  attends  Christ's  Hospital,  to  hear  a  sermon, 
when  a  little  Latin  oration  is  made  by  the  two  senior 
.scholars,  who  afterwards  carry  round  a  glove,  and 
collect  money  enough  to  pay  their  first  year's  ex- 
penses at  college.  Then  the  beadles  of  the  various 
hospitals  of  which  the   Lord   Mayor  is  governor 


deliver  up  their  staves  of  office,  which  are  returned 
if  no  fault  is  to  be  attributed  to  them ;  and  this  is 
done  to  denote  the  Mayor's  right  to  remove  them 
at  his  will,  or  upon  just  cause  assigned,  although 
elected  by  their  respective  governors." 

On  the  28th  of  September,  the  Lord  Mayor  swears 
in  the  sheriffs  at  Guildhall,  a  public  breakfast  having 
been  first  given  by  them  at  the  hall  of  the  Company 
to  which  the  senior  sheriff  belongs.  On  the  30th 
of  September,  the  Lord  Mayor  proceeds  with  the 
sheriffs  to  Westminster,  in  state ;  and  the  sheriffs 
are  again  sworn  into  ofhce  before  the  Barons  of  the 
Exchequer.  The  senior  alderman  below  the  chair 
(the  next  in  rotation  for  Lord  Mayor)  cuts  some 
sticks,  delivers  six  horse-shoes,  and  counts  sixty-one 
hob-nails,  as  suit  and  service  for  some  lands  held 
by  the  City  under  the  Crown.  The  Barons  are  then 
invited  to  the  banquet  given  by  tlie  sheriffs  on  their 
return  to  the  City,  at  which  the  Lord  Mayor  pre- 
sides in  state. 

"  The  patronage  of  the  Lord  Mayor  consists  in 
the  appointment  of  a  cliaplain,  who  receives  a  full 
set  of  canonicals,  lives  and  boards  in  the  Mansion 
House,  has  a  suite  of  rooms  and  a  servant  at  com- 
mand, rides  in  the  state  carriage,  and  attends  the 
Lord  Mayor  whenever  required.  He  is  presented 
to  the  King  at  the  first  lev6e,  and  receives  a  purse 
of  fifty  guineas  from  the  Court  of  Aldermen,  and  a 
like  sum  from  the  Court  of  Common  Council,  for 
the  sermons  he  preaches  before  the  Corporation 
and  the  judges  at  St.  Paul's  the  first  Sundays  in 
term.  The  next  appointment  the  Lord  Mayor  has 
at  his  disposal  is  the  Clerk  of  the  Cocket  Office, 
whom  he  pays  out  of  his  own  purse.  If  a  harbour 
master,  of  whom  there  are  four,  dies  during  the 
3^ear,  the  Lord  Mayor  appoints  his  successor. 
The  salary  is  ;^4oo  a  year,  and  is  paid  by  the 
Chamberlain.  He  also  appoints  the  water-bailiff's 
assistants,  if  any  vacancy  occurs.  He  presents  a 
boy  to  Christ's  Hospital,  in  addition  to  the  one  he 
is  entitled  to  present  as  an  alderman ;  and  he  has 
a  presentation  of  an  annuity  of  ;^2i  los.  5d.,  under 
will,  to  thirteen  pensioners,  provided  a  vacancy 
occurs  during  his  year  of  office.  ;z^4  is  given  to  a 
poor  soldier,  and  the  same  sum  to  a  poor  sailor. 

"  The  powers  of  the  Lord  Mayor  over  the  City, 
although  abridged,  like  the  sovereign  power  over 
the  State,  are  still  much  more  extensive  tlian  is 
generally  supposed.  The  rights  and  privileges  of 
the  chief  magistrate  of  the  City  and  its  corporation 
are  nearly  allied  to  those  of  the  constitution  of  the 
State.  The  Lord  Mayor  has  the  badges  of  royalty 
attached  to  his  office — the  sceptre,  the  swords  of 
justice  and  mercy,  and  the  mace.  The  gold  chain, 
one  of  the  most  ancient  honorary  distinctions,  and 


44* 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Mansion  House. 


which  may  be  traced  from  the  Eastern  manner  of 
conferring  dignity,  is  worn  by  him,  among  other 
honorr.jy  badges  ;  and,  having  passed  through  the 
officf.  jf  Lord  Mayor,  the  alderman  continues  to 
wear  it  during  his  hfe.  He  controls  the  City  purse, 
the  Chamberlain  delivering  it  into  his  hands,  to- 
gether with  the  sceptre,  on  the  day  he  is  sworn  into 
office.  He  has  the  right  of  precedence  in  the  City 
before  all  the  Royal  Family,  which  right  was  disputed 
by  the  Prince  of  Wales,  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral, 
during  the  mayoralty  of  Sir  James  Shaw,  but  main- 
tained by  him,  and  approved  and  confirmed  by  the 
King  (George  HL).  The  gates  of  the  City  are  in 
his  custody,  and  it  is  usual  to  close  the  only  one 
now  remaining,  Temple  Bar,  on  the  approach  of 
the  sovereign  when  on  a  visit  to  the  City,  who 
knocks  and  formally  requests  admission,  the  Mayor 
attending  in  person  to  grant  it,  and  receive  the  visit 
of  royalty ;  and  upon  proclaiming  war  or  peace,  he 
also  proceeds  in  state  to  Temple  Bar,  to  admit  the 
heralds.  Soldiers  cannot  march  through  the  City, 
in  any  large  numbers,  without  the  Mayor's  per- 
mission, first  obtained  by  the  Commander-in-chief 

"  The  Lieutenancy  of  the  City  of  London  is  in 
commission.  The  Lord  Mayor,  being  the  Chief 
Commissioner,  issues  a  new  commission,  whenever 
he  pleases,  by  application  to  the  Lord  Chancellor, 
through  the  Secretary  of  State.  He  names  in  the 
commission  all  the  aldermen  and  deputies  of  the 
City  of  London,  the  directors  of  tlie  Bank,  the 
members  for  the  City,  and  such  of  his  immediate 
friends  and  relations  as  he  pleases.  The  commis- 
sion, being  under  the  Great  Seal,  gives  all  the  parties 
named  therein  the  right  to  be  styled  esquires,  and 
the  name  once  in  the  commission  remains,  unless 
removed  for  any  valid  reason. 

"The  Lord  Mayor  enjoys  the  right  of  private 
audience  with  the  Crown ;  and  when  an  audience 
is  wished  for,  it  is  usual  to  make  the  request  through 
the  Remembrancer,  but  not  necessary.  When 
Alderman  Wilson  was  Lord  Mayor,  he  used  to 
apply  by  letter  to  the  Lord  Chamberlain.  In 
attending  levees  or  drawing-rooms,  the  Lord  Mayor 
has  the  privilege  of  the  entree,  and,  in  consideration 
of  the  important  duties  he  has  to  perform  in  the 
City,  and  to  save  his  time,  he  is  allowed  to  drive  | 
direct  into  the  Ambassadors'  Court  at  St.  James's, 
without  going  round  by  Constitution  Hill.  He  is 
summoned  as  a  Privy  Councillor  on  the  death  of 
the  King ;  and  the  Tower  pass-word  is  sent  to  him 
regularly,  signed  by  the  sovereign. 

"  He  has  the  uncontrolled  conservancy  of  the  river 
Thames  and  the  waters  of  the  Medway,  from  Lon- 
don Bridge  to  Rochester  down  the  river,  and  from 
London  Bridge  to  Oxford  up  the  river.     He  holds 


Courts  of  Conservancy  whenever  he  sees  it  neces- 
sary, and  summons  juries  in  Kent,  from  London 
and  Middlesex,  who  are  compelled  to  go  on  the 
river  in  boats  to  view  and  make  presentments.  In 
the  mayoralty  of  Alderman  Wilson,  these  courts 
were  held  in  the  state  barge,  on  the  water,  at  the 
spot  with  which  the  inquiry  was  connected,  for  the 
convenience  of  the  witnesses  attending  from  the 
villages  near.  It  is  usual  for  him  to  visit  Oxford 
once  in  fourteen,  and  Rochester  once  in  seven 
years.* 

"Alderman  Wilson,  in  1839,  was  the  last  Lord 
Mayor  (says  Fairholt,  whose  book  was  published 
in  1843)  who  visited  the  western  boundary;  and 
he,  at  the  request  of  the  Court  of  Aldermen, 
made  Windsor  the  principal  seat  of  the  festivities, 
going  no  farther  than  Cliefden,  and  visiting  Magna 
Charta  island  on  his  return.  Alderman  Pirie  was 
the  last  who  visited  the  eastern  boundary,  the 
whole  party  staying  two  days  at  Rochester,  The 
Lord  Mayor  is  privileged  by  the  City  to  go  these 
journeys  every  year,  should  he  see  any  necessity 
for  it ;  but  the  exi)t;nse  is  so  great  (about  ^1,000) 
that  it  is  only  performed  at  these  distant  periods, 
although  Alderman  Wilson  visited  the  western 
boundary  in  the  thirteenth,  and  Alderman  Pirie  in 
the  fifth  year.  A  similar  short  view  is  taken  as  far 
as  Twickenham  yearly,  in  the  month  of  July,  at  a 
cost  of  about  ;^i5o,  when  the  Lord  Mayor  is 
attended  by  the  aldermen,  the  sheriffs,  and  their 
ladies,  with  the  same  show  and  attendance  as  on 
the  more  infrequent  visits.  His  lordship  has  also 
a  committee  to  assist  in  the  duties  of  his  office, 
who  have  a  shallop  of  their  own,  and  take  a  view 
up  and  down  the  river,  as  far  as  they  like  to  go, 
once  or  twice  a  month  during  summer,  at  an  ex- 
pense of  some  hundreds  per  annum. 

"The  Lord  Mayor  m?y  be  said  to  have  a  veto 
upon  the  proceedings  of  the  Courts  both  of  Alder- 
men and  Common  Council,  as  well  as  upon  the 
Court  of  Livery  in  Common  Hall  assembled,  neither 
of  these  courts  being  able  to  meet  unless  convened 
by  him ;  and  he  can  at  any  time  dissolve  the  court 
by  removing  the  sword  and  mace  from  the  table, 
and  declaring  the  business  at  an  end  ;  but  this 
is  considered  an  ungracious  display  of  power  when 
exercised. 

"  The  Lord  Ma)'or  may  call  upon  the  Recorder 
for  his  advice  whenever  he  may  stand  in  need  of  it, 
as  well  as  for  that  of  the  Common  Serjeant,  the  four 
City  pleaders,  and  the  City  solicitor,  from  whom 

*  A  new  Act  for  the  conservancy  of  the  Tliames  came 
into  operation  on  September  30th,  1857,  the  result  of  a 
compromise  between  the  City  and  the  Government,  after  a 
long  law-suit  between  the  Crown  and  City  authorities. 


Mansion  rrouse.]        MANSION  HOUSE  HOUSEHOLD   AND    EXPENDITURE. 


443 


he  orders  prosecutions  at  the  City  expense  when- 
ever he  thinks  the  pubUc  good  requires  it.  The 
salary  of  the  Recorder  is  ^2,500  per  annum, 
besides  fees  ;  the  Common  Serjeant  ^1,000,  with 
an  income  from  other  sources  of  ^^843  per  annum. 
The  soHcitor  is  supposed  to  make  ;^5,ooo  per  j 
aimum. 

"  H'he  Lord  Mayor  resides  in  the  Mansion 
House,  the  first  stone  of  which  was  laid  the  25th  of 
October,  1739.  This  house,  with  the  furniture,  cost 
;^7o,c)S^  13s.  2d.,  the  principal  part  of  which  was 
paid  from  the  fines  received  from  persons  who 
wished  to  be  excused  from  serving  the  office  of 
sheriff.  About  ;^9,ooo  was  paid  out  of  the  City's 
income.  The  plate  cost  ;!^i  1,531  i6s.  3d.,  which 
has  been  very  considerably  added  to  since  by  the 
Lord  Mayors  for  the  time  being,  averaging  about 
;^5oo  per  annum. 

"  Attached  to  the  household  is — 

£    s.   d. 

The  chaplain,  at  a  salary  of         .         .  97  10  o 

The  swordljearer         ....  500    o  o 

The  macebearer.         ....  500    o  o 

■Waler-I)ailiiTf 300    o  o 

City  marshal       .....  55°    ^  ^ 

Marshal's  man    .....  200    o  o 

Clerk  of  the  Cocket  OiTilo  .         .         .  80     o  o 

Gate  porter         .         .         .         .         .  660 

Seven  trumpeters        .         .          .         .  29     9  o 

"  These  sums,  added  to  the  allowance  to  the 
Lord  Mayor,  and  the  ground-rent  and  taxes  of  the 
Mansion  House  (amounting  to  about  £^()2  12s.  6d. 
per  annum),  and  other  expenses,  it  is  expected, 
cost  the  City  about  ;j^i9,o38  i6s.  lod.  per  annum. 
There  are  also  four  attorneys  of  the  Mayor's  court, 
wl'.o  formerly  boarded  at  the  Mansion  House,  but 
are  now  allowed  ;;^io5  per  annum  in  lieu  of  the 
table.  Tlie  plate-butler  and  the  housekeeper  have 
each  jQ^  5s.  per  annum  as  a  compliment  from  the 
City,  and  in  addition  to  their  wages,  paid  by  the 
Lord  Mayor  (;^45  per  annum  to  the  housekeeper, 
and  £,1  5  s.  per  week  to  the  plate-butler).  The 
marshal's  clothing  costs  ^44  i6s.  per  annum,  and 
that  of  the  marshal's  man  ;^r3  9s.  6d. 

''There  is  also — 

£  s.  d. 

A  yeoman  of  the  chamber,  at     .  .  270  o  o 

Three  Serjeants  of  ditto,*  each    .  .  280  o  o 

Master  of  the  ceremonies   .         .  .  40  o  o 

Serjeant  of  the  channel       .         .  .  184  10  o 

Yeoman  of  the  channel       .         .  .  25  o  o 

Two  yeomen  of  the  waterside,  each  .  350  o  o 

Deputy  water-bailiff  ....  350  o  o 

Water-bailiff's  first  young  man    .  .  300  o  o 

The  common  hunt's  young  man  .  .  350  o  o 

Water-bailiff's  second  young  man  .  300  o  o 

Swordbearer's  young  man  .         .  .  350  o  o 

•  Tljcso  fiinctionaries  carve  the  barons  of  beef  at  the  banquet  on 
l^,<iil  Mayor's  Day. 


"  These  sums  and  others,  added  to  the  previous 
amount,  make  an  annual  amount  of  expense 
connected  with  the  office  of  Lord  Mayor  of 
;^25,o34  7s.  id. 

"  Most  of  the  last-named  officers  walk  before  the 
Lord  Mayor,  dressed  in  black  silk  gowns,  on  all 
state  occasions  (one  acting  as  his  lordship's  train- 
bearer),  and  dine  vridi  the  liousehold  at  a  table 
provided  at  about  15s.  a  head,  exclusive  of  wine, 
which  they  are  allowed  without  restraint.  In  the 
mayoralty  of  Alderman  Atkins,  some  dispute  having 
arisen  with  some  of  the  household  respecting  their 
tables,  the  City  abolished  the  daily  table,  giving 
each  of  the  officers  a  sum  of  money  instead, 
deducting  ;^'i,ooo  a  year  frorr*  the  Lord  Mayor's 
allowance,  and  requiring  him  only  to  provide  the 
swordbearer's  table  on  state  days." 

The  estimate  made  for  the  expenditure  at  the 
Mansion  House  by  the  committee  of  the  Corpo- 
ration, is  founded  upon  the  average  of  many  years, 
!  but  in  such  mayoralties  as  Curtis,  Pirie,  and 
I  Wilson,  far  more  must  have  been  spent.  It  is 
j  said  that  only  one  Lord  Mayor  ever  saved  any- 
)  thing  out  of  his  salary. 

I      '■■  Sir  James  Saunderson,  Mayor  in  1792-3,  left 

j  behind  him  a  minute  account  of  the  expenses  of  his 

!  year  of  office,  for  the  edification  of  his  successors. 

I  The  document   is  lengthy,  but   we  shall  select   a 

j  few  of  the  more  striking  items.     Paid — Butcher  for 

twelve  months,  ^^781  10s.  lod. ;   one  item  in  this 

account  is  for  meat  given  to  the  prisoners  at  Lud- 

gate,  at  a  co.st  of  ;^68  los.  8d.     The  wines  are,  of 

course,  expensive.     1792 — Paid,  late  Lord  Ma)'or"s 

stock,p£"57  7s.  iid. ;  hock,  35  dozen,  ;j£^82  14s.  od.; 

champagne,  40  ditto,  at  43s.,;i^85  19s.  9d. ;  claret, 

154  ditto,  at  34s.  lod.  per  dozen,  ^^268  12s.  7d. ; 

Burgund)',  ^^6  ditto,  ^76  5s.  od. ,    port,  8  pipes, 

400  dozen,  ;;^4i6  4s.  od. ;  draught  ditto,  for  Lord 

Mayor's  day,  ^a,()  4s.  od. ;  ditto,  ditto,  for  Easter 

I  Monday,  ;^28  4s.  3d. — ;j^493  12s.  3d.  ;   Madeira, 

32    dozen,     ;^59     i6s.     4d.  ,     sherr)^,    61    dozen, 

^67   IS.  od. ;   Lisbon,  one  hogshead,  at  34s.  per 

dozen,  jQ(i2  12s.  od. ;  bottles  to  make  good,  broke 

and    stole,   ;;^97    13s.   6d.  ,    arrack,  ^,^8  8s.  od. ; 

brandy,   25   gallons,  ;!^i8  11s,  od.  ;  rum,  6|  ditto, 

£1  19s.  6d.     Total,  ;^i,309  12s.  lod." 

"  These  items  of  costume  are  curious  :■ — Lady 
Mayoress,  November  30. — A  hoop,  £2  i6s.  od. , 
point  ruffles,  jQ\2  12s.  od. ,  treble  blond  ditto, 
£■]  7s.  od. ;  a  fan,  ;^3  3s.  od. ;  a  cap  and  lappets, 
£']  7s.  od. ;  a  cloak  and  sundries,  ^26  17s.  od.  j 
hair  ornaments,  ;^34  os.  od. ;  a  cap,  £']  i8s.  od. ; 
sundries,  ^^37  9s.  id.  1793,  Jan.  26. — A  silk, 
for  9th  Nov.,  3^  guineas  per  yard,  ;^4i  6s.  od. ; 
a  petticoat  (Madame  Beauvais),  £1^  3s.  6d. ;  a 


444 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[The  Mansion  House. 


gold  chain,  j^^^y  15s.  od. ;  silver  silk,  ^i^  os.  od. ; 
clouded  satin,  ^5  los.  od. ;  a  petticoat  for  Easter, 
j£2g  IS.  od. ;  millinery,  for  ditto,  ^^27  17s.  6d. ; 
hair-dressing,  ;£i^  2s.  3d.  July  6th. — A  petticoat, 
j£6  1 6s.  8d. ;  millinery,  ;^7  8s.  8d. ;  mantua- 
maker,  in  full,  ;^i3    14s.    6d. ;    milliner,  in  full. 


tion,  ;£o  OS.  od.'  Thus,  to  dress  a  Lord  Mayor 
costs  ;^309  2S.  od. ;  but  her  Ladyship  cannot  be 
duly  arrayed  at  a  less  cost  than  ^^416  2s.  od.  To 
dress  the  servants  cost  ^^724  5s.  6d." 

Then   comes  a  grand  summing-up.     "  Dr.  The 
whole  state  of  the  account,  ;^i2,i73  4s.  3d."  Then 


INTERIOR  OF  THE  EGYPTIAN   HALL. 


j^i2  6s.  6d.  Total,  ^£"416  2s.  od.  The  Lord 
Mayor's  dress  : — Two  wigs,  ^9  9s.  od. ;  a  velvet 
suit,  ;^54  8s.  od. ;  other  clothes,  ;^i  17  13s.  4d, ; 
hats  and  hose,  j£g  6s.  6d. ;  a  scarlet  robe, 
^14  8s.  6d. ;  a  violet  ditto,  ;^i2  is.  6d. ;  a  gold 
chain,  ^^63  cs.  od. ;  steel  buckles,  ^^5  5s.  od. ; 
a  jsteel  sword,  ^6  163.  6d. ;  hair-dressing, 
,-/^i6  1 6s.  iid. — ^309  33,  3d.  On  the  page 
opposite  to  that  containing  this  record,  under  the 
head  of  *  Ditto  Returned/  we  read  *  Per  Valua* 


follow  the  receipts  per  contra  : — "  At  Chamberlain's 
Office,^3,572  8s,  4d.;Cocket  Office, ;^892  5s.  iid.; 
Bridge  House,  ;^6o;  City  Ganger,  ;£2So;  free- 
doms, ;^i75;  fees  on  affidavits,  ;^2i  i6s.  8d. ; 
seals,  ^67  4s.  9d. ;  licences,  ;^i3  15s.;  sheriflt's 
fees,  ;,^i3  6s.  8d.;  corn  fees,  jC^5  i3^- >  venison 
warrants,  ;^i4  4s,;  attorneys,  Mayor's  Court, 
/^iC  7s.  9d. ;  City  Remembrancer,  ;^  12  12s.;  in 
lieu  of  baskets,  ;^j  7s. ;  vote  of  Common  Council, 
;^ioo;    sale  of  horses    and    carriages,    £45^', 


The  Mansion  House.] 


A   CARICATURE    OF   CITY   LIFE. 


445 


wine  (overplus)  removed  from  Mansion  House, 
;^398  i8s.  7d.  Total  received,  ;^6,ii7  9s.  8d. 
Cost  of  mayoralty,  as  such,  and  independent  of  all 
private  expenses,  £(>,o^S   I4S-  7^-" 

That  clever  but  unscrupulous  tuft-hunter  and 
smart  parvenu,  Theodore  Hook,  who  talked  of 
Bloomsbury  as  if  it  was  semi-barbarous,  and  of 
citizens  (whose  wine  he  drank,  and  whose  hospi- 
tality he  so  often  shared)  as  if  they  could  only  eat 
venison  and  swallow  turtle  soup,  has  left  a  sketch 


elegance,  he  snaps  off  the  cut-steel  hilt  of  his  sword, 
by  accidentally  bumping  the  whole  weight  of  his 
body  right — or  rather,  wrong— directly  upon  the 
top  of  it. 

"  Through  fog  and  glory,"  says  Theodore  Hook, 
"Scropps  reached  Blackfriars  Bridge,  took  water, 
and  in  the  barge  tasted  none  of  the  collation,  for 
all  he  heard,  saw,  and  swallowed  was  '  Lord  Mayor 
and  '  your  lordship,'  far  sweeter  than  nectar.  At 
the  presentation  at  Westminster,  he  saw  two  of  the 


THE  "MARIA  WOOD."     (See page ^^"J.) 


of  the  short-lived  dignity  of  a  mayor,  which  exactly 
represents  the  absurd  caricature  of  City  life  that 
then  pleased  his  West-end  readers,  half  of  whom 
had  derived  their  original  wealth  from  the  till. 
Scropps,  the  new  Lord  Mayor,  cannot  sleep  all 
night  for  his  greatness ;  the  wind  down  the  chimney 
sounds  like  the  shouts  of  the  people ;  the  cocks 
crowing  in  the  morn  at  the  back  of  the  house  he 
takes  for  trumpets  sounding  his  approach  ;  and  the 
ordinary  incidental  noises  in  the  family  he  fancies 
the  pop-guns  at  Stangate  announcing  his  disembar- 
cation  at  Westminster.  Then  come  his  droll  mis- 
haps :  when  he  enters  the  state  coach,  and  throws 
himself  back  upon  his  broad  seat,  with  all  ima- 
ginable dignity,  in  the  midst  of  all  his  ease  and 
88 


judges,  whom  he  remembered  on  the  circuit,  when 
he  trembled  at  the  sight  of  them,  believing  them  to 
be  some  extraordinary  creatures,  upon  whom  all 
the  hair  and  fur  grew  naturally. 

"Then  the  Lady  Mayoress.  There  she  was — 
Sally  Scropps  (her  maiden  name  was  Snob).  'There 
was  my  own  Sally,  with  a  plume  of  feathers  that 
half  filled  the  coach,  and  Jenny  and  Maria  and 
young  Sally,  all  with  their  backs  to  viy  horses, 
which  were  pawing  with  mud,  and  snorting  and 
smoking  like  steam-engines,  with  nostrils  like  safety, 
valves,  and  four  of  my  footmen  behind  the  coach, 
like  bees  in  a  swarm.' " 

Perhaps  the  most  effective  portion  of  the  paper 
13  the  reverse  of  the  picture.     My  lord  and  lady 


446 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Mansion  House. 


and  their  family  had  just  got  settled  in  the  Mansion 
House,  and  enjoying  their  dignity,  when  the  9th 
of  November  came  again — the  consummation  of 
Scropps'  downfall.  Again  did  they  go  in  state  to 
Guildhall ;  again  were  they  toasted  and  addressed ; 
again  wtie  they  handed  in  and  led  out,  flirted  with 
Cabinet  ministers,  and  danced  with  ambassadors; 
and  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  drove  home 
from  the  scene  of  gaiety  to  the  old  residence  in 
Budge  Row.  "  Never  in  the  world  did  pickled 
herrings  or  turpentine  smell  so  powerfully  as  on 
that  night  when  we  re-entered  the  house.  .  .  . 
The  passage  looked  so  narrow ;  the  drawing-room 
looked  so  small ;  the  staircase  seemed  so  dark ; 
our  apartments  appeared  so  low.  In  the  morning 
we  assembled  at  breakfast.  A  note  lay  upon  the 
table,  addressed  '  Mrs.  Scropps,  Budge  Row.' 
The  girls,  one  after  the  other,  took  it  up,  read  the 
superscription,  and  laid  it  down  again.  A  visitor 
was  announced — a  neighbour  and  kind  friend,  a 
man  of  wealth  and  importance.  What  were  his 
first  words  ?  They  were  the  first  I  had  heard  from 
a  stranger  since  my  job.  '  How  are  you,  Scropps  ? 
Done  up,  eh  ?' 

"  Scropps !  No  obsequiousness,  no  deference, 
no  respect.  No  *  My  lord,  I  hope  your  lordship 
passed  an  agreeable  night.  And  how  is  her  lady- 
ship, and  her  amiable  daughters  ?'  No,  not  a  bit 
of  it !  *  How's  Mrs.  S.  and  the  gals  f  This  was 
quite  natural,  all  as  it  had  been.  But  how  unlike 
what  it  was  only  the  day  before  !  The  very 
servants — who,  when  amidst  the  strapping,  stall-fed, 
gold-laced  lackeys  of  the  Mansion  House,  and 
transferred,  with  the  chairs  and  tables,  from  one 
Lord  Mayor  to  another,  dared  not  speak,  nor  look, 
nor  say  their  lives  were  their  o\vn — strutted  about 
the  house,  and  banged  the  doors,  and  spoke  of  their 
missis  as  if  she  had  been  an  old  apple-woman. 

"So  much  for  domestic  miseries.  I  went  out. 
I  was  shoved  about  in  Cheapside  in  the  most 
remorseless  manner.  My  right  eye  had  a  narrow 
escape  of  being  poked  out  by  the  tray  of  a  brawny 
butcher's  boy,  who,  when  I  civilly  remonstrated, 
turned  round  and  said,  '  Vy,  I  say,  who  are  yoUy  I 
wonder?  Why  are  you  so  partiklar  about  your 
hysightV  I  felt  an  involuntary  shudder.  *  To-day,' 
thought  I,  '  I  am  John  Ebenezer  Scropps.  Two 
days  ago  I  was  Lord  Mayor  ! ' " 

"  Our  Lord  Mayor,"  says  Cobbett,  in  his  sensible 
way,  "  and  his  golden  coach,  and  his  gold-covered 
footmen  and  coachmen,  and  his  golden  chain,  and 
his  chaplain,  and  his  great  sword  of  state,  please 
the  people,  and  particularly  the  women  and  girls  ; 
and  when  they  are  pleased,  the  men  and  boys  are 
pleased.    And  many  a  young  fellow  has  been  more 


industrious  and  attentive  from  his  hope  of  one  day 
riding  in  that  golden  coach." 

''  On  ordinary  state  occasions,"  says  "  Aleph,"  in 
the  City  Firss,  "  the  Lord  Mayor  wears  a  massi\  e 
black  silk  robe,  richly  embroidered,  aud  his  collar 
and  jewel ;  in  the  civic  courts,  a  violet  silk  robe, 
furred  and  bordered  with  black  velvet.  The  wear 
of  the  various  robes  was  fixed  by  a  regulation  dated 
1562.  The  present  authority  for  the  costumes  is  a 
printed  pamphlet  (by  order  of  the  Court  of  Common 
Council),  dated  1789. 

"The  jewelled  collar  (date  1534),"  says  Mr. 
Timbs,  "  is  of  pure  gold,  composed  of  a  series  of 
links,  each  formed  of  a  letter  S,  a  united  York  and 
Lancaster  (or  Henry  VIL)  rose,  and  a  massive 
knot.  The  ends  of  the  chain  are  joined  by  the 
portcullis,  from  the  points  of  which,  suspended  by 
a  ring  of  diamonds,  hangs  the  jewel.  The  entire 
collar  contains  twenty-eight  SS,  fourteen  roses, 
thirteen  knots,  and  measures  sixty-four  inches. 
The  jewel  contains  in  the  centre  the  City  arms,  cut 
in  cameo  of  a  delicate  blue,  on  an  olive  ground. 
Surrounding  this  is  a  garter  of  bright  blue,  edged 
with  white  and  gold,  bearing  the  City  motto, 
'  Domine,  dirige  nos,'  in  gold  letters.  The  whole 
is  encircled  with  a  costly  border  of  gold  SS,  alter- 
nating with  rosettes  of  diamonds,  set  in  silver. 
The  jewel  is  suspended  from  the  collar  by  a 
portcullis,  but  when  worn  without  the  collar,  is 
hung  by  a  broad  blue  ribbon.  The  investiture 
is  by  a  massive  gold  chain,  and,  when  the  Lord 
Mayor  is  re-elected,  by  two  chains." 

Edward  IH.,  by  his  charter  (dated  1534),  grants 
the  mayors  of  the  City  of  London  "gold,  or 
silver,  or  silvered "  maces,  to  be  carried  before 
them.  The  present  mace,  of  silver-gilt,  is  five  feet 
three  inches  long,  and  bears  on  the  lower  part 
"  W.  R."  It  is  surmounted  with  a  royal  crown 
and  the  imperial  arms  ;  and  the  handle  and  staff 
are  richly  chased. 

There  are  four  swords  belonging  to  the  City 
of  London.  The  "  Pearl "  sword,  presented  by 
Queen  Elizabeth  when  she  opened  the  first  Royal 
Exchange,  in  157 1,  and  so  named  from  its  being 
richly  set  with  pearls.  This  sword  is  carried 
before  the  Lord  Mayor  on  all  occasions  of  re- 
joicing and  festivity.  The  "  Sword  of  State,"  borne 
before  the  Lord  Mayor  as  an  emblem  of  his  autho- 
rity. The  "  Black "  sword,  used  on  fast  days,  in 
Lent,  and  at  the  death  of  any  of  the  royal  family. 
And  the  fourth  is  that  placed  before  the  Lord 
Mayor's  chair  at  the  Central  Criminal  Court. 

The  Corporate  seal  is  circular.  The  second  seal, 
made  in  the  mayoralty  of  Sir  William  Walworth, 
1 38 1,  is  much  defaced. 


Saxon  London.] 


LONDON   IN  THE  SAXON  TIMES. 


447 


"  The  '  gondola,'  known  as  the  '  Lord  Mayor's 
State  Barge,'"  says  "Aleph,"  "was  built  in  1807,  at 
a  cost  of  £'2,S19-  Built  of  English  oak,  85  feet 
long  by  13  feet  8  inches  broad,  she  was  at  all 
times  at  liberty  to  pass  through  all  the  locks,  and 
even  go  up  the  Thames  as  far  as  Oxford.  She 
had  eighteen  oars  and  all  other  fittings  complete, 
and  was  profusely  gilt.  But  when  the  Conser- 
vancy Act  took  force,  and  the  Corporation  had  no 
longer  need  of  her,  she  was  sold  at  her  moorings 
at  Messrs.  Searle's,  Surrey  side  of  Westminster 
Bridge,  on  Thursday,  April  5th,  i860,  by  Messrs. 
Pullen  and  Son,  of  Cripplegate.  The  first  bid  was 
;;^2o,  and  she  was  ultimately  knocked  down  for 
^{,"105.  Where  she  is  or  how  she  has  fared  we  know 
not.  The  other  barge  is  that  famous  one  known  to 
all  City  personages  and  all  civic  pleasure  parties. 
It  was  built  during  the  mayoralty  of  Sir  Matthew 
Wood,  in  18 1 6,  and  received  its  name  of  Maria 


Wood  from  the  eldest  and  pet  daughter  of  that 
'  twice  Lord  Mayor.'  It  cost  ^^3,300,  and  was 
built  by  Messrs.  Field  and  White,  in  consequence 
of  the  old  barge  Crosby  (built  during  the  mayoralty 
of  Brass  Crosby,  1 7  7 1 )  being  found  past  repairing. 
Maria  Wood  measures  140  feet  long  by  19  feet 
wide,  and  draws  only  2  feet  6  inches  of  water. 
The  grand  saloon,  56  feet  long,  is  capable  of  dining 
140  persons.  In  185 1  she  cost  ^1,000  repairing. 
Like  her  sister,  this  splendid  civic  barge  was  sold 
at  the  Auction-mart,  facing  the  Bank  of  England, 
by  Messrs.  Pullen  and  Son,  on  Tuesday,  May  31, 
1859.  The  sale  commenced  at  ;;^ioo,  next  ;!^2oo, 
;^2  2o,  and  thence  regular  bids,  till  finally  it  got  to 
;i^4oo,  when  Mr.  Alderman  Humphrey  bid  ^^410, 
and  got  the  prize.  Though  no  longer  civic  pro- 
perty, it  is  yet,  I  believe,  in  the  hands  of  those 
who  allow  it  to  be  made  the  scene  of  many  a  day 
of  festivity." 


CHAPTER    XXXIX. 
SAXON   LONDON. 

A  Glance  at  Saxon  London — The  Three  Component  Parts  of  Saxon  London — The  First  Saxon  Bridge  over  the  Thames — Edward  the  Confessor  at 

Westminster — City  Residences  of  the  Saxon  Kings — Political  Position  of  London  in  Early  Times — The  first  recorded  Great  Fire  of  London 

—The  Early  Commercial  Dignity  of  London— The  Kings  of  Norway  and  Denmark  besiege  London  in  vain — A  Gxc'A.X.Gemot  held  in  London 

-Edmund  Ironside  elected  King   by  the  Londoners — Canute  besieges  them,  and  is  driven  off— The  Seamen  of  London — Its  Citizens  as 

Electors  of  Kings. 


Our  materials  for  sketching  Saxon  London  are  ! 
singularly  scanty ;  yet  some  faint  picture  of  it  we  i 
may  perhaps  hope  to  convey. 

Our  readers  must,  therefore,  divest  their  minds  I 
entirely  of  all  remembrance  of  that  great  ocean  of  \ 
liouses  tliat  has  now  spread  like  an  inundation 
from  the  banks  of  the  winding  Thames,  surging 
over  the  wooded  ridges  that  rise  northward,  and 
widening  out  from  AVhitechapel  eastward  to  Ken- 
sington westward.  They  must  rather  recall  to 
their  minds  some  small  German  town,  belted  in 
with  a  sturdy  wall,  raised  not  for  ornament,  but 
defence,  with  corner  turrets  for  archers,  and 
pierced  with  loops  whence  the  bowmen  may  drive 
their  arrows  at  the  straining  workers  of  the  cata- 
pult and  mangonels  (those  Roman  war-engines  we 
used  against  the  cruel  Danes),  and  with  stone- 
capped  places  of  shelter  along  the  watchmen's 
platforms,  where  the  sentinels  may  shelter  them- 
selves during  the  cold  and  storm,  when  tired  of 
peering  over  the  battlements  and  looking  for  the 
crafty  enemy  Essex-wards  or  Surrey  way.  No  toy 
battlements  of  modern  villa  or  tea-garden  are  those 
over  which  the  rough-bearded  men,  in  hoods  and 
leather  coats,  lean  in  the  summer,  watching  the 
pitiijens  disporting  themselves  in  the  Moorfields,  or 


in  winter  sledging  over  the  ice-pools  of  Finsbury. 
Not  for  mere  theatrical  pageant  do  they  carry 
those  heavy  axes  and  tough  spears.  Those  bossed 
targets  are  not  for  festival  show ;  those  buff  jackets, 
covered  with  metal  scales,  have  been  tested  before 
now  by  Norsemen's  ponderous  swords  and  the 
hatchets  of  the  fierce  Jutlanders. 

In  such  castle  rooms  as  antiquaries  now  visit, 
the  Saxon  earls  and  eldermen  quaffed  their  ale, 
and  drank  "  wassail "  to  King  Egbert  or  Ethelwolf. 
In  such  dungeons  as  we  now  see  with  a  shudder 
at  the  Tower,  Saxon  traitors  and  Danish  prisoners 
once  peaked  and  pined. 

We  must  imagine  Saxon  London  as  having  three 
component  parts — fortresses,  convents,  and  huts. 
The  girdle  of  wall,  while  it  restricted  space,  would 
give  a  feeling  of  safety  and  snugness  which  in  our 
gi'eat  modern  city — which  is  really  a  conglomera- 
tion, a  sort  of  pudding-stone,  of  many  towns  and 
villages  grown  together  into  one  shapeless  mass — ■ 
the  citizen  can  never  again  experience.  The  streets 
would  in  some  degree  resemble  those  of  Moscow, 
where,  behind  fortress,  palace,  and  church,  you  come 
upon  rows  of  mere  wooden  sheds,  scarcely  better 
than  the  log  huts  of  the  peasants,  or  the  sombre 
felt  tents  of  the  Turcoman.    There  would  be  large 


448 


OLD  AND  NEW  LOTSTDON. 


[Saxon  London. 


vacant  spaces,  as  in  St.  Petersburg ;  and  the 
suburbs  would  rapidly  open  beyond  the  walls 
into  wild  woodland  and  pasture,  fen,  moor,  and 
common.  A  few  dozen  fishermen's  boats  from 
Kent  and  Norfolk  would  be  moored  by  the  Tower, 
if,  indeed,  any  Saxon  fort  had  ever  replaced  the 
somewhat  hypothetical  Roman  fortress  of  tradi- 
tion; and  lower  down  some  hundred  or  so  cum- 
brous Dutch,  French,  and  German  vessels  would 
represent  our  trade  with  the  almost  unknown  con- 
tinent whence  we  drew  wine  and  furs  and  the 
few  luxuries  of  those  hardy  and  thrifty  days. 

In  the  narrow  streets,  the  fortress,  convent,  and 
hut  would  be  exactly  represented  by  the  chieftain 
and  his  bearded  retinue  of  spearmen,  the  priest 
with  his  train  of  acolytes,  and  the  herd  of  half- 
savage  churls  who  plodded  along  with  rough  carts 
laden  with  timber  from  the  Essex  forests,  or  driving 
herds  of  swine  from  the  glades  of  Epping.  The 
churls  we  picture  as  grim  but  hearty  folk,  stolid, 
pugnacious,  yet  honest  and  promise-keeping,  over- 
inclined  to  strong  ale,  and  not  disinclined  for  a 
brawl  ;  men  who  had  fought  with  Danes  and 
wolves,  and  who  were  ready  to  fight  them  again. 
The  shops  must  have  been  mere  stalls,  and  much 
of  the  trade  itinerant.  There  would  be,  no  doubt, 
rudimentary  market-places  about  Cheapside  (Chepe 
is  the  Saxon  word  for  market) ;  and  the  lines  of 
some  of  our  chief  streets,  no  doubt,  still  follow  the 
curves  of  the  original  Saxon  roads. 

The  date  of  the  first  Saxon  bridge  over  the 
Thames  is  extremely  uncertain,  as  our  chapter  on 
London  Bridge  will  show ;  but  it  is  almost  as  certain 
as  history  can  be  that,  soon  after  the  Dane  Olaf's 
invasion  of  England  (994)  in  Ethelred's  reign,  with 
390  piratical  ships,  when  he  plundered  Staines 
and  Sandwich,  a  rough  wooden  bridge  was  built, 
which  crossed  the  Thames  from  St.  Botolph's  wharf 
to  the  Surrey  shore.  We  must  imagine  it  a  clumsy 
rickety  structure,  raised  on  piles  with  rough-hewn 
timber  planks,  and  with  drawbridges  that  lifted  to 
allow  Saxon  vessels  to  pass.  There  was  certainly 
a  bridge  as  early,  as  1006,  probably  built  to  stop 
the  passage  of  the  Danish  pirate  boats.  Indeed, 
Snorro  Sturleson,  the  Icelandic  historian,  tells  us 
that  when  the  Danes  invaded  England  in  1008, 
in  the  reign  of  Ethelred  the  Unready  (ominous 
name  !),  they  entrenched  themselves  in  Southwark, 
and  held  the  fortified  bridge,  which  had  pent- 
houses, bulwarks,  and  shelter-turrets.  Ethelred's 
ally,  Olaf,  however,  determined  to  drive  the  Danes 
from  the  bridge,  adopted  a  daring  expedient  to 
accomplish  this  object,  and,  fastening  his  ships  to 
the  piles  of  the  bridge,  from  which  the  Danes 
were  raining  down  stones  and  beams,  dragged  it 


to  pieces,  upon  which,  on  very  fiiir  provocation, 
Ottar,  a  Norse  bard,  broke  forth  into  the  following 
eulogy  of  King  Olaf,  the  patron  saint  of  Tooley 
Street : — 

"  And  thou  hast  overthrown  their  bridge,  O 
thou  storm  of  the  sons  of  Odin,  skilful  and  fore- 
most in  the  battle,  defender  of  the  earth,  and 
restorer  of  the  exiled  Ethelred  !  It  was  during  the 
fight  which  the  mighty  King  fought  with  the  men 
of  England,  when  King  Olaf,  the  son  of  Odin, 
valiantly  attacked  the  bridge  at  London.  Bravely 
did  the  swords  of  the  Volsces  defend  it ;  but 
through  the  trench  which  the  sea-kings  guarded 
thou  camest,  and  the  plain  of  Southwark  was 
crowded  with  thy  tents." 

It  may  seem  as  strange  to  us,  at  this  distance  of 
time,  to  find  London  Bridge  ennobled  in  a  Norse 
epic,  as  to  find  a  Sir  Something  de  Birmingham 
figuring  among  the  bravest  knights  of  Eroissart's 
record ;  but  there  the  Norse  song  stands  on  record, 
and  therein  we  get  a  stormy  picture  of  the  Thames 
in  the  Saxon  epoch. 

It  is  supposed  that  the  Saxon  kings  dwelt  in  a 
palace  on  the  site  of  the  Baynard's  Castle  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  which  stood  at  the  river-side  just  west 
of  St.  Paul's,  although  there  is  little  proof  of  the 
fact.  But  we  get  on  the  sure  ground  of  truth  when 
we  find  Edward  the  Confessor,  one  of  the  most 
powerful  of  the  Saxon  kings,  dwelling  in  saintly 
splendour  at  Westminster,  beside  the  abbey  dedi- 
cated by  his  predecessors  to  St.  Peter.  The  com- 
bination of  the  palace  and  the  monastery  was  suit- 
able to  such  a  friend  of  the  monks,  and  to  one 
who  saw  strange  visions,  and  claimed  to  be  the 
favoured  of  Heaven.  But  beyond  and  on  all  sides 
of  the  Saxon  palace  everywhere  would  be  fields 
— St.  James's  Park  (fields),  Hyde  Park  (fields), 
Regent's  Park  (fields),  and  long  woods  stretching 
northward  from  the  present  St.  John's  Wood  to  tlie 
uplands  of  Epping. 

As  to  the  City  residences  of  the  Saxon  kings, 
we  have  little  on  record ;  but  there  is  indeed  a 
tradition  that  in  Wood  Street,  Cheapside,  King 
Athelstane  once  resided  ;  and  that  one  of  the 
doors  of  his  house  opened  into  Addle  Street, 
Aldermanbury  {addle,  from  the  German  word  edel, 
noble).  But  Stow  does  not  mention  tlie  tradition, 
which  rests,  we  fear,  on  slender  evidence. 

Whether  the  Bread  Street,  Milk  Street,  and 
Cornhill  markets  date  from  the  Saxon  times  is 
uncertain.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  they  do,  yet  tlie 
earUest  mention  of  them  in  London  ckionicles  is 
found  several  centuries  later. 

We  must  be  therefore  content  to  search  for  allu- 
sions  to   London's   growth   and  wealth  ia  Saxon 


Saxon  London  ] 


London  ten  centuries  ago. 


44^ 


history,  and  there  the  allusions  are  frequent,  clear, 
and  interesting. 

In  the  earlier  time  London  fluctuated,  according 
to  one  of  the  best  authorities  on  Saxon  history, 
between  an  independent  mercantile  commonwealth 
and  a  dependency  of  the  Mercian  kings.  The 
Norsemen  occasionally  plundered  and  held  it  as  a 
point  d'appin  for  their  pirate  galleys.  Its  real  epoch 
of  greatness,  however  ancient  its  advantage  as 
a  port,  commences  with  its  re-conquest  by  Alfred 
the  Great  in  886.  Henceforward,  says  that  most 
reliable  writer  on  this  period,  Mr.  Freeman,  we 
find  it  one  of  the  firmest  strongholds  of  English 
freedom,  and  one  of  the  most  efficient  bulwarks  of 
the  realm.  There  the  English  character  developed 
the  highest  civilisation  of  the  country,  and  there  the 
rich  and  independent  citizens  laid  the  foundations 
of  future  liberty. 

In  896  the  Danes  are  said  to  have  gone  up  the 
Lea,  and  made  a  strong  work  twenty  miles  above 
Lundenburgh.  This  description,  says  Earle,  Avould 
be  particularly  appropriate,  if  Lundenburgh  occu- 
pied the  site  of  the  Tower.  Also  one  then  sees  the 
reason  why  they  should  go  up  the  Lea — viz.,  because 
their  old  passage  up  the  Thames  was  at  that  time 
intercepted. 

"London,"  says  Earle,  in  his  valuable  Saxon 
Chronicles,  "  was  a  flourishing  and  opulent  city,  the 
chief  emporium  of  commerce  in  the  island,  and  the 
residence  of  foreign  merchants.  Properly  it  was 
more  an  Angle  city,  the  chief  city  of  the  Anglian 
nation  of  Mercia ;  but  the  Danes  had  settled  there 
in  great  numbers,  and  had  numerous  captives  that 
they  had  taken  in  the  late  wars.  Thus  the  Danish 
population  had  a  preponderance  over  the  Anglian 
free  population,  and  the  latter  were  glad  to  see 
Alfred  come  and  restore  the  balance  in  their  favour. 
It  was  of  the  greatest  importance  to  Alfred  to 
secure  this  city,  not  only  as  the  capital  of  Mercia 
{caput  regni  Meniorum,  Malmesbury),  but  as  the 
means  of  doing  what  Mercia  had  not  done — viz.,  of 
making  it  a  barrier  to  the  passage  of  pirate  ships 
inland.  Accordingly,  in  the  year  886,  Alfred  planted 
the  garrison  of  London  {i.e.,  not  as  a  town  is  garri- 
soned in  our  day,  with  men  dressed  in  uniform  and 
lodged  in  barracks,  but)  with  a  military  colony  of 
men  to  whom  land  was  given  for  their  maintenance, 
and  who  would  live  in  and  about  a  fortified  position 
under  a  commanding  officer.  It  appears  to  me  not 
'.mpossible  that  this  may  have  been  the  first  military 
occupation  of  Tower  Hill,  but  this  is  a  question 
for  the  local  antiquary." 

In  982  (Ethelred  II.),  London,  still  a  mere 
cluster  of  wooden  and  wattled  houses,  was  almost 
entirely  destroyed  by  a  fire.     The  new  city  was,  no 


doubt,  rebuilt  in  a  more  luxurious  manner.    "  Lon- 
don in  993,"  says  Mr.  Freeman,  in  a  very  admirable 
passage,  "fills  much  the   same  place   in  England 
that  Paris  filled  in  Northern  Gaul  a  century  earher. 
The  two  cities,  in  their  several  lands,  were  the  two 
great  fortresses,  placed  on  the  two  great  rivers  of 
the  country,  the  special  objects  of  attack  on  the 
part  of  the  invaders,  and  the  special  defence  of  the 
country  against  them.     Each  was,  as  it  were,  marked 
out  by  great  public  services  to  become  the  capital 
of  the  whole  kingdom.    But  Paris  became  a  national 
capital  only  because  its  local  count  gradually  grew 
into  a  national  king.     London,  amidst  all  changes, 
within  and  without,  has  always  preserved  more  or 
less  of  her  ancient  character  as  a  free  city.     Paris 
was  merely  a  military  bulwark,  the  dwelling-place 
of  a  ducal  or  a  royal  sovereign.     London,  no  less 
important  as  a  military  post,  had  also  a  greatness 
which  rested  on  a  surer  foundation.     London,  like 
a  few  other  of  our  great  cities,  is  one  of  the  ties 
which  connect  our  Teutonic  England  with  the  Celtic 
and  Roman  Britain  of  earlier  times.     Her  British 
name   still   remains   unchanged   by   the   Teutonic 
conquerors.     Before  our  first  introduction  to  Lon- 
don as   an   English  city,  she   had   cast  away  her 
Roman   and   imperial    title;    she   was   no   longer 
Augusta ;  she  had  again  assumed  her  ancient  name, 
and  through  all  changes  she  had  adhered  to  her 
ancient  character.     The  commercial  fame  of  Lon- 
don dates  from  the  early  days  of  Roman  dominion. 
The  English  conquest  may  have  caused  a  temporary 
interruption,  but  it  was  only  temporary.     As  early 
as  the  days  of  ^thelberht  the  commerce  of  Lon- 
don was  again  renowned,     y^^lfred  had  rescued  the 
city  from  the  Dane  ;  he  had  built  a  citadel  for  her 
defence,  the  germ  of  that  Tower  which  was  to  be 
first  the  dwelling-place  of  kings,  and  then  the  scene 
of  the  martyrdom  of  their  victims.      Among  the 
laws  of  >^thelstan,  none  are  more  remarkable  than 
those  which  deal  with  the  internal  affairs  of  London, 
and  with  the  regulation  of  her  earliest  commercial 
corporations.     Her  institutes  speak  of  a  commerce 
spread  over  all  the  lands  which  bordered  on  the 
Western  Ocean.    Flemings  and  Frenchmen,  men  of 
Ponthieu,  of  Brabant,  and  of  Liittich,  filled   her 
markets  with  their  wares,  and   enriched  the  civic 
coffers  with  their  toils.    Thither,  too,  came  the  men 
of  Rouen,  whose  descendants  were,  at  no  distant 
day,  to  form  a  considerable  element  among  her  own 
citizens  ;  and,  worthy  and  favoure-d  above  all,  came 
the  seafaring  men  of  the  old  Saxon  brother-land, 
the  pioneers  of  the   mighty  Hansa  of  the  north, 
which  was  in  days  to  come  to  knit  together  London 
and  Novgorod  in  one  bond  of  commerce,  and  to 
dictate  laws  and  distribute  crowns  among  the  nations 


4Se 


OLD  ANt)  New  LondoN. 


[Saxon  London. 


by  whom  London  was  now  threatened.     The  de-  !  with  an  attempt  to  burn  the  town,  was  defeated, 
mand  for  toll  and  tribute  fell  lightly  on  those  whom    with  great  slaughter  of  the  besiegers  ;  and  the  two 


the  English  legislation  distinguished  as  the  tnen  of 
the  Emperor." 

In  994,  Olaf  king  of  Nonvay,  and  Sweyn  king  of 
Denmark,  summoning  their  robber  chieftains  from 
their  fir-woods,  fiords,  and  mountains,  sailed  up  the 


kings   sailed   away   the    same   day   in   wrath   and 
sorrow. 

During  the  year  998  a  great  "gemot"  was  held 
at  London.  Whether  any  measures  were  taken  to 
resist  the  Danes  does  not  appear ;  but  the  priests 


BROAD  STREET   AND   COKNHILL  WARDS.       {From  a  Map  of  X'J'^O.) 


Thames  in  ninety-four  war  vessels,  eager  to  plunder 
the  wealthy  London  of  the  Saxons.  The  brave 
burghers,  trained  to  handle  spear  and  sword,  beat 
back,  however,  the  hungry  foemen  from  their  walls 
— the  rampart  that  tough  Roman  hands  had  reared, 
and  the  strong  tower  which  Alfred  had  seen  arise 
on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  river. 

But  it  was  not  only  to  such  worldly  bulwarks 
that  the  defenders  of  London  trusted.  On  that 
day,  says  the  chronicler,  the  Mother  of  God,  "  of 
her  mild-heartedness,"  rescued  the  Christian  city 
from  its  foes.     An  assault  on  the  wall,  coupled 


were  busy,  and  Wulfsige,  Bishop  of  the  Dorssetas, 
took  measures  to  substitute  monks  for  canons  in 
his  cathedral  church  at  Sherborne  ;  and  the  king 
restored  to  the  church  of  Rochester  the  lands  of 
which  he  had  robbed  it  in  his  youth. 

In  1009  the  Danes  made  several  vain  attempts 
on  London. 

In  1 013  Sweyn,  the  Dane,  marched  upon  the 
much-tormented  city  of  ships  ;  but  the  hardy 
citizens  were  again  ready  with  bow  and  spear. 
Whether  the  bridge  still  existed  then  or  not  is  un- 
certain ;  as  many  of  the  Danes  are  said  to  have 


Saxon  London.  5 


THE  DANES  IN  LONDON 


¥ 


452 


OLD  AND  N£W  LOl^GOM. 


t Saxon  Londott. 


perished  in  vainly  seeking  for  the  fords.  The 
assaults  were  as  unsuccessful  as  those  of  Sweyn  and 
Olaf,  nineteen  years  before,  for  King  Ethelred's 
right  hand  was  Thorkill,  a  trusty  Dane.  "  For  the 
fourth  time  in  this  reign,"  says  Mr.  Freeman,  "  the 
invaders  were  beaten  back  from  the  great  merchant 
city.  Years  after  London  yielded  to  Sweyn  ;  then 
again,  in  Ethelred's  last  days,  it  resisted  bravely  its 
enemies ;  till  at  last  Ethelred,  weary  of  Dane  and 
Saxon,  died,  and  was  buried  in  St.  Paul's.  The 
two  great  factions  of  Danes  and  Saxons  had  now 
to  choose  a  king. 

Canute  the  Dane  was  chosen  as  king  at  South- 
ampton ;  but  the  Londoners  were  so  rich,  free,  and 
powerful  that  they  held  a  rival  gemot,  and  with 
one  voice  elected  the  Saxon  atheling  Edmund 
Ironside,  who  was  crowned  by  Archbishop  Lyfing 
within  the  city,  and  very  probably  at  St  Paul's. 
Canute,  enraged  at  the  Londoners,  at  once  sailed 
for  London  with  his  army,  and,  halting  at  Green- 
wich, planned  the  immediate  siege  of  the  rebellious 
city.  The  great  obstacle  to  his  advance  was  the 
fortified  bridge  that  had  so  often  hindered  the 
Danes.  Canute,  with  prompt  energy,  instantly  had 
a  great  canal  dug  on  the  southern  bank,  so  that 
his  ships  might  turn  the  flank  of  the  bridge  ;  and, 
having  overcome  this  great  difficulty,  he  dug 
another  trench  round  the  northern  and  western 
sides  of  the  city.  London  was  now  circum- 
vallated,  and  cut  off  from  all  supply  of  com  and 
cattle ;  but  the  citizen's  hearts  were  staunch,  and, 
baffling  every  attempt  of  Canute  to  sap  or  escalade, 
the  Dane  soon  raised  the  siege.  In  the  meantime, 
Edmund  Ironside  was  not  forgetful  of  the  city 
that  had  chosen  him  as  king.  After  three  battles, 
he  compelled  the  Danes  to  raise  their  second 
siege.  In  a  fourth  battle,  which  took  place  at 
Brentford,  the  Danes  were  again  defeated,  though 
not  without  considerable  losses  on  the  side  of 
the  victors,  many  of  the  Saxons  being  drowned 
in  trying  to  ford  the  river  after  their  flying 
enemies.  Edmund  then  returned  to  Wessex  to 
gather  fresh  troops,  and  in  his  absence  Canute  for 
the  third  time  laid  siege  to  London.  Again  the 
city  held  out  against  every  attack,  and  "Almighty 
God,"  as  the  pious  chroniclers  say,  "  saved  the 
city." 

After  the  division  of  England  between  Edmund 
and  Canute  had  been  accomplished,  the  London 
citizens  made  peace  with  the  Danes,  and  the  latter 
were  allowed  to  winter  as  friends  in  the  uncon- 
quered  city ;  but  soon  after  the  partition  Edmund 
Ironside  died  in  London,  and  thus  Canute  became 
the  sole  king  of  England. 

On  the  succession  of  Harold  I.  (Canute's  natural 


son),  says  Mr.  Freeman,  we  find  a  new  element, 
the  "  lithsmen,"  the  seamen  of  London.  "  The 
great  city  still  retained  her  voice  in  the  election  of 
kings ;  but  that  voice  would  almost  seem  to  have 
been  transferred  to  a  new  class  among  the  popu- 
lation. We  hear  now  not  of  the  citizens,  but  of 
the  sea-faring  men.  Every  invasion,  every  foreign 
settlement  of  any  kind  within  the  kingdom  too, 
in  every  age,  added  a  new  element  to  the  popula- 
tion of  London.  As  a  Norman  colony  settled  in 
London  later  in  the  century,  so  a  Danish  colony 
settled  there  now.  Some  accounts  tell  us,  doubt- 
less with  great  exaggeration,  that  London  had 
now  almost  become  a  Danish  city  (William  of 
Malmesbury,  ii.  i88) ;  but  it  is,  at  all  events, 
quite  certain  the  Danish  element  in  the  city  was 
numerous  and  powerful,  and  that  its  voice  strongly 
helped  to  swell  the  cry  which  was  raised  in  favour 
of  Harold." 

It  seems  doubtful  how  far  the  London  citizens 
in  the  Saxon  times  could  claim  the  right  to  elect 
kings.  The  latest  and  best  historian  of  this  period 
seems  to  think  that  the  Londoners  had  no  special 
privileges  in  the  gemot;  but,  of  course,  when  the 
gemot  was  held  in  London,  the  citizens,  intelligent 
and  united,  had  a  powerful  voice  in  the  decision. 
Hence  it  arose  that  the  citizens  both  of  London 
and  Winchester  (which  had  been  an  old  seat  of 
the  Saxon  kings)  "  seem,"  says  Mr.  Freeman,  "  to 
be  mentioned  as  electors  of  kings  as  late  as  the 
accession  of  Stephen.  (See  William  of  Malmes- 
bury, "Hist.  Nov.,"  i.  II.)  Even  as  late  as  the 
year  1461,  Edward  Ea'l  of  March  was  elected 
king  by  a  tumultuous  assembly  of  the  citizens  of 
London;"  and  again,  at  a  later  period,  we  find  the 
citizens  foremost  in  the  revolution  which  placed 
Richard  III.  on  the  throne  in  1483.  These  are 
plainly  vestiges  of  the  right  which  the  citizens  had- 
more  regularly  exercised  in  the  elections  of  Edmund 
Ironside  and  of  Harold  the  son  of  Cnut. 

The  city  of  London,  there  can  be  no  doubt, 
soon  emancipated  itself  from  the  jurisdiction  of  earls 
like  Leofwin,  who  ruled  over  the  home  counties. 
It  acquired,  by  its  own  secret  power,  an  unwritten 
charter  of  its  own,  its  influence  being  always  im- 
portant in  the  wars  between  kings  and  their  rivals, 
or  kings  and  their  too-powerful  nobles.  "The 
king's  writs  for  homage,"  says  a  great  authority, 
"  in  the  Saxon  times,  were  addressed  to  the  bishop, 
the  portreeve  or  portreeves,  to  the  burgh  thanes, 
and  sometimes  to  the  whole  people."  ^m 

Thus   it   may  clearly  be   seen,   even   from  the^J 
scanty  materials  we  are  able  to  collect,  that  London, 
as  far  back  as  the  Saxon  times,  was  destined   to^_ 
achieve  greatness,  political  and  commercial.  -^^ 


Bank  of  England.] 


OUR   FIRST  LONDON   BANKERS. 


453 


CHAPTER   XL. 
THE    BANK     OF     ENGLAND. 

The  Jews  and  the  Lombards — The  Goldsmiths  the  first  London  Bankers— William  Paterson,  Founder  of  the  Bank  of  England — Difficult  Parturition 
of  the  Bank  Bill — Whig  Principles  of  the  Bank  of  England — The  Great  Company  described  by  Addison — A  Crisis  at  the  Bank — Effects  of  a 
Silver  Re-coinage — Paterson  quits  the  Bank  of  England — The  Ministry  resolves  that  it  shall  be  enlarged — The  Credit  of  the  Bank  shaken— 
The  Whigs  to  the  Rescue — Effects  of  the  Sacheverell  Riots— The  South  Sea  Company— The  Cost  of  a  New  Charter — Forged  Bank  Notes 
— The  Foundation  of  the  "Three  per  Cent.  Consols" — Anecdotes  relating  to  the  Bank  of  England  and  Bank  Notes — Description  of  the 
Building— Statue  of  William  IIL— Bank  Clearing  House— Dividend  Day  at  the  Bank. 


The  English  Jews,  that  eminently  commercial  race, 
were,  as  we  have  shown  in  our  chapter  on  Old 
Jewry,  our  first  bankers  and  usurers.  To  them, 
in  immediate  succession,  followed  the  enterprising 
Lombards,  a  term  including  the  merchants  and 
goldsmiths  of  Genoa,  Florence,  and  Venice. 
Utterly  blind  to  all  sense  of  true  liberty  and 
justice,  the  strong-handed  king  seems  to  have 
resolved  to  squeeze  and  crush  them,  as  he  had 
squeezed  and  crushed  their  unfortunate  prede- 
cessors. They  were  rich  and  they  were  strangers 
— that  was  enough  for  a  king  who  wanted  money 
badly.  At  one  fell  swoop  Edward  seized  the 
Lombards'  property  and  estates.  Their  debtors 
naturally  approved  of  the  king's  summary  measure. 
But  the  Lombards  grew  and  flourished,  like  the 
trampled  camomile,  and  in  the  fifteenth  centuiy 
advanced  a  loan  to  the  state  on  the  security  of  the 
Customs.  The  Steelyard  merchants  also  advanced 
loans  to  our  kings,  and  were  always  found  to  be 
available  for  national  emergencies,  and  so  were  the 
Merchants  of  the  Staple,  the  Mercers'  Company, 
the  Merchant  Adventurers,  and  the  traders  of 
Flanders. 

Up  to  a  late  period  in  the  reign  of  Charles  I.  the 
London  merchants  seem  to  have  deposited  their 
surplus  cash  in  the  Mint,  the  business  of  which  was 
carried  on  in  the  Tower.  But  when  Charles  L, 
in  an  agony  of  impecuniosity,  seized  like  a  robber 
the  p^20o,ooo  there  deposited,  calling  it  a  loan, 
the  London  goldsmiths,  who  ever  since  1386  had 
been  always  more  or  less  bankers,  now  monopo- 
lised the  whole  banking  business.  Some  merchants, 
distrustful  of  the  goldsmiths  in  these  stormy  times, 
entrusted  their  money  to  their  clerks  and  appren- 
tices, who  too  often  cried,  "  Boot,  saddle  and 
horse,  and  away  ! "  and  at  once  started  with  their 
spoil  to  join  Rupert  and  his  pillaging  Cavaliers. 
About  1645  the  citizens  returned  almost  entirely  to 
the  goldsmiths,  who  now  gave  interest  for  money 
placed  in  their  care,  bought  coins,  and  sold  plate. 
The  Company  was  not  particular.  The  Parlia- 
ment, out  of  plate  and  old  coin,  had  coined  gold, 
and  seven  millions  of  half-crowns.  The  goldsmiths 
culled  out  the  heavier  pieces,  melted  them  down, 


and  exported  them.  The  merchants'  clerks,  to 
whom  their  masters'  ready  cash  was  still  sometimes 
entrusted,  actually  had  frequently  the  brazen  impu- 
dence to  lend  money  to  the  goldsmiths,  at  four- 
pence  per  cent,  per  diem ;  so  that  the  merchants 
were  often  actually  lent  their  own  money,  and  had 
to  pay  for  the  use  of  it.  The  goldsmiths  also 
began  now  to  receive  rent  and  allow  interest  for  it. 
They  gave  receipts  for  the  sums  they  received,  and 
these  receipts  were  to  all  intents  and  purposes 
marketable  as  bank-notes. 

Grown  rich  by  these  means,  the  goldsmiths  were 
often  able  to  help  Cromwell  with  money  in  advance 
on  the  revenues,  a  patriotic  act  for  which  we  may 
be  sure  they  took  good  care  not  to  suffer.  When 
the  great  national  disgrace  occurred — the  Dutch 
sailed  up  the  Medway  and  burned  some  of  our 
ships — there  was  a  run  upon  the  goldsmiths,  but 
they  stood  firm,  and  met  all  deinands.  The  in- 
famous seizure  by  Charles  IL  of  ;^i, 300,000, 
deposited  by  the  London  goldsmiths  in  the  Ex- 
chequer, all  but  ruined  these  too  confiding  men, 
but  clamour  and  pressure  compelled  the  royal 
embezzler  to  at  last  pay  six  per  cent,  on  the 
sum  appropriated.  In  the  last  year  of  William's 
reign,  interest  was  granted  on  the  whole  sum  at 
three  per  cent.,  and  the  debt  still  remains  undis- 
charged. At  last  a  Bank  of  England,  which  had 
been  talked  about  and  wished  for  by  commercial 
men  ever  since  the  year  1678,  was  actually  started, 
and  came  into  operation. 

That  great  financial  genius,  William  Paterson, 
the  founder  of  the  Bank  of  England,  was  born  in 
1658,  of  a  good  family,  at  Lochnaber,  in  Dum- 
friesshire. He  is  supposed,  in  early  life,  to  have 
preached  among  the  persecuted  Covenanters.  He 
lived  a  good  deal  in  Holland,  and  is  believed  to 
have  been  a  wealthy  merchant  in  New  Providence 
(the  Bahamas),  and  seems  to  have  shared  in  Sir 
William  Phipps'  successful  undertaking  of  raising 
a  Spanish  galleon  with  ;,{^3oo,ooo  worth  of  sunken 
treasure.  It  is  absurdly  stated  that  he  was  at  one 
time  a  buccaneer,  and  so  gained  a  knowledge  of 
Darien  and  the  ports  of  the  Spanish  main.  That 
he  knew  and  obtained  information  from  Captains 


454 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Bank  of  England. 


Sharpe,  Dampier,  Wafer,  and  Sir  Henry  Morgan 
(the  taker  of  Panama),  is  probable.  He  worked 
zealously  for  the  Restoration  of  1688,  and  he  was 
the  founder  of  the  Darien  scheme.  He  advocated 
the  union  of  Scotland,  and  the  establishment  of  a 
Board  of  Trade. 

The  project  of  a  Bank  of  England  seems  to 
have  been  often  discussed  during  the  Common- 
wealth, and  was  seriously  proposed  at  the  meeting 
of  the  First  Council  of  Trade  at  Mercers'  Hall 
after  the  Restoration.  Paterson  has  himself  de- 
scribed the  first  starting  of  the  Bank,  in  his  "  Pro- 
ceedings at  the  Imaginary  Wednesday's  Club,"  17 17. 
The  first  proposition  of  a  Bank  of  England  was 
made  in  July,  1691,  when  the  Government  had 
contracted  ^^3, 000,000  of  debt  in  three  years,  and 
the  Ministers  even  stooped,  hat  in  hand,  to  borrow 
;^ioo,ooo  or  ;!£"20o,ooo  at  a  time  of  the  Common 
Council  of  London,  on  the  first  payment  of  the 
land-tax,  and  all  payable  with  the  year,  the  common 
councillors  going  round  and  soliciting  from  house 
to  house.  The  first  project  was  badly  received,  as 
people  expected  an  immediate  peace,  and  disliked 
a  scheme  which  had  come  from  Holland — "  they 
had  too  many  Dutch  things  already."  They  also 
doubted  the  stability  of  William's  Government.  The 
money,  at  this  time,  was  terribly  debased,  and  the 
national  debt  increasing  yearly.  The  ministers 
preferred  ready  money  by  annuities  for  ninety-nine 
years,  and  by  a  lottery.  At  last  they  ventured  to 
try  the  Bank,  on  the  express  condition  that  if  a 
moiety,  ;^i, 200,000,  was  not  collected  by  August, 
1699,  there  should  be  no  Bank,  and  the  whole 
;^i, 200,000  should  be  struck  in  halves  for  the 
managers  to  dispose  of  at  their  pleasure.  So  great 
was  the  opposition,  that  the  very  night  before,  some 
City  men  wagered  deeply  that  one-third  of  the 
;^i, 200,000  would  never  be  subscribed.  Never- 
theless, the  next  day  ;^346,ooo,  with  a  fourth 
paid  in  at  once,  was  subscribed,  and  the  remainder 
in  a  few  days  after.  The  whole  subscription  was 
completed  in  ten  days,  and  paid  into  the  Ex- 
chequer in  rather  more  than  ten  weeks.  Paterson 
expressly  tells  us  that  the  Bank  Act  would  have 
been  quashed  in  the  Privy  Council  but  for  Queen 
Mary,  who,  following  the  wish  of  her  husband, 
expressed  firmly  in  a  letter  from  Flanders,  pressed 
the  commission  forward,  after  a  six  hours'  sitting. 

The  Bank  Bill,  timidly  brought  forward,  pur- 
ported only  to  impose  a  new  duty  on  tonnage,  for 
the  benefit  of  such  loyal  persons  as  should  advance 
money  towards  carrying  on  the  war.  The  plan 
was  for  the  Government  to  borrow  ^1,200,000, 
at  the  modest  interest  of  eight  per  cent.  To  en- 
courage  capitalists,  the   subscribers   were  to   be 


incorporated  by  the  name  of  the  Governor  and 
Company  of  the  Bank  of  England.  Both  Tories 
and  Whigs  broke  into  a  fury  at  the  scheme.  The 
goldsmiths  and  pawnbrokers,  says  Macaulay,  set 
up  a  howl  of  rage.  The  Tories  declared  that 
banks  were  republican  institutions  ;  the  Whigs  pre- 
dicted ruin  and  despotism.  The  whole  wealth  of 
the  nation  would  be  in  the  hands  of  the  "  Tonnage 
Bank,"  and  the  Bank  would  be  in  the  hands  of 
the  Sovereign.  It  was  worse  than  the  Star  Chamber, 
worse  than  Oliver's  50,000  soldiers.  The  power 
of  the  purse  would  be  transferred  from  the  House 
of  Commons  to  the  Governor  and  Directors  of  the 
new  Company.  Bending  to  this  last  objection,  a 
clause  was  inserted,  inhibiting  the  Bank  from  ad- 
vancing money  to  the  House  without  authority 
from  Parliament.  Every  infraction  of  this  rule  was 
to  be  punished  by  a  forfeiture  of  three  times  the 
sum  advanced,  without  the  king  having  power  to 
remit  the  penalty.  Charles  Montague,  an  able 
man,  afterwards  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury,  carried 
'the  bill  through  the  House ;  and  Michael  Godfrey 
(the  brother  of  the  celebrated  Sir  Edmundbury 
Godfrey,  supposed  to  have  been  murdered  by  the 
Papists),  an  upright  merchant  and  a  zealous  Whig, 
propitiated  the  City.  In  the  Lords  (always  the 
more  prejudiced  and  conservative  body  than  the 
Commons)  the  bill  met  with  great  opposition. 
Some  noblemen  imagined  that  the  Bank  was  in- 
tended to  exalt  the  moneyed  interest  and  debase 
the  landed  interest;  and  others  imagined  the  bill 
was  intended  to  enrich  usurers,  who  would  prefer 
banking  their  money  to  lending  it  on  mortgage. 
"  Something  was  said,"  says  Macaulay,  "  about  the 
danger  of  setting  up  a  gigantic  corporation,  which 
might  soon  give  laws  to  the  King  and  the  three 
estates  of  the  realm."  Eventually  the  Lords,  afraid 
to  leave  the  King  without  money,  passed  the  bill. 
During  several  generations  the  Bank  of  England 
was  emphatically  a  Whig  body.  The  Stuarts  would 
at  once  have  repudiated  the  debt,  and  the  Bank 
of  England,  knowing  that  their  return  implied  ruin, 
remained  loyal  to  William,  Anne,  and  George. 
"  It  is  hardly  too  much  to  say,"  writes  Macaulay, 
"  that  during  many  years  the  weight  of  the  Bank, 
which  was  constantly  in  the  scale  of  the  Whigs, 
almost  counterbalanced  the  weight  of  the  Church, 
which  was  as  constantly  in  the  scale  of  the  Tories." 
"  Seventeen  years  after  the  passing  of  the  Tonnage 
Bill,"  says  the  same  eminent  Avriter,  to  show  the 
reliance  of  the  Whigs  on  the  Bank  of  England, 
"  Addison,  in  one  of  his  most  ingenious  and 
graceful  little  allegories,  described  the  situation  of 
the  great  company  through  which  the  immense 
wea,Uh  of  London  was  constantly  circulating.     He 


Bank  of  England.} 


EARLY  DIFFICULTIES  OF  THE  BANK. 


455 


saw  Public  Credit  on  her  throne  in  Grocers'  Hall, 
the  Great  Charter  over  her  head,  the  Act  of  Settle- 
ment full  in  her  view.  Her  touch  turned  every- 
thing %o  gold.  Behind  her  seat  bags  filled  with 
coin  were  piled  up  to  the  ceiling.  On  her  right 
and  on  her  left  the  floor  was  hidden  by  pyramids 
of  guineas.  On  a  sudden  the  door  flies  open, 
the  Pretender  rushes  in,  a  sponge  in  one  hand,  in 
the  other  a  sword,  which  he  shakes  at  the  Act 
of  Settlement.  The  beautiful  Queen  sinks  down 
fainting;  the  spell  by  which  she  has  turned  all 
things  around  her  into  treasure  is  broken ;  the 
money-bags  shrink  like  pricked  bladders  ;  the  piles 
of  gold  pieces  are  turned  into  bundles  of  rags,  or 
fagots  of  wooden  tallies." 

In  1696  (very  soon  after  its  birth)  the  Bank 
experienced  a  crisis.  There  was  a  want  of  money 
in  England.  The  clipped  silver  had  been  called 
in,  and  the  new  money  was  not  ready.  Even  rich 
people  were  living  on  credit,  and  issued  promis- 
sory notes.  The  stock  of  the  Bank  of  England 
had  gone  rapidly  down  from  no  to  83.  The 
goldsmiths,  who  detested  the  corporation  that  had 
broken  in  on  their  system  of  private  banking,  now 
tried  to  destroy  the  new  company.  They  plotted, 
and  on  the  same  day  they  crowded  to  Grocers' 
Hall,  where  the  Bank  was  located  from  1694  to 
1734,  and  insisted  on  immediate  payment — one 
goldsmith  alone  demanding  ;^3o,9oo.  The  direc- 
tors paid  all  their  honest  creditors,  but  refused 
to  cash  the  goldsmiths'  notes,  and  left  them  their 
remedy  in  Westminster  Hall.  The  goldsmiths 
triumphed  in  scurrilous  pasquinades  entitled,  "  The 
Last  Will  and  Testament,"  ''  The  Epitaph,"  "  The 
Inquest  on  the  Bank  of  England."  The  directors, 
finding  it  impossible  to  procure  silver  enough  to  pay 
every  claim,  had  recourse  to  an  expedient.  They 
made  a  call  of  20  per  cent,  on  the  proprietors,  and 
thus  raised  a  sum  enabling  them  to  pay  every 
applicant  15  per  cent,  in  milled  money  on  what 
was  due  to  him,  and  they  returned  him  his  note, 
after  making  a  minute  upon  it  that  part  had  been 
paid.  A  few  notes  thus  marked,  says  Macaulay, 
are  still  preserved  among  the  archives  of  the  Bank, 
as  memorials  of  that  terrible  year.  The  alterna- 
tions were  frightful.  The  discount,  at  one  time 
6  per  cent,  was  presently  24.  A^^io  note,  taken 
for  more  than  ^g  in  the  morning,  was  before  night 
worth  less  than  ^^8. 

Paterson  attributes  this  danger  of  the  Bank  to 
bad  and  partial  payments,  the  giving  and  allowing 
exorbitant  interest,  high  premiums  and  discounts, 
contracting  dear  and  bad  bargains;  the  general 
debasing  and  corrupting  of  coin,  and  such  like,  by 
which  means  things  were  brought  to  such  a  pass 


that  even  8  per  cent,  interest  on  the  land-tax, 
although  payable  within  the  year,  would  not  answer. 
Guineas,  he  says,  on  a  sudden  rose  to  30s.  per 
piece,  or  more ;  all  currency  of  other  money  was 
stopped,  hardly  any  had  wherewith  to  pay ;  public 
securities  sank  to  about  a  moiety  of  their  original 
values,  and  buyers  were  hard  to  be  found  even  at 
those  prices.  No  man  knew  what  he  was  worth  j 
the  course  of  trade  and  correspondence  almost  uni- 
versally stopped;  the  poorer  sort  of  people  were 
plunged  into  irrepressible  distress,  and  as  it  were 
left  perishing,  whilst  even  the  richer  had  hardly 
wherewith  to  go  to  market  for  obtaining  the 
common  conveniences  of  life. 

The  King,  in  Flanders,  was  in  great  want  of 
money.  The  Land  Bank  could  not  do  much. 
The  Bank,  at  last,  generously  offered  to  advance 
p^2oo,ooo  in  gold  and  silver  to  meet  the  King's 
necessities.  Sir  Isaac  Nev/ton,  the  new  Master  of 
the  Mint,  hastened  on  the  re-coinage.  Several  of 
the  ministers,  immediately  after  the  Bank  meeting 
{over  which  Sir  John  Houblon  presided),  purchased 
stock,  as  a  proof  of  their  gratitude  to  the  body 
which  had  rendered  so  great  a  service  to  the  State. 

The  diminution  of  the  old  hammered  money 
continued  to  increase,  and  public  credit  began  to 
be  put  to  a  stand.  The  opposers  of  Paterson 
wished  to  alter  the  denomination  of  the  money, 
so  that  9d.  of  silver  should  pass  for  is.,  but  at 
last  agreed  to  let  sterling  silver  pass  at  5s.  2d.  an 
ounce,  being  the  equivalent  of  the  milled  money. 
The  loss  of  the  re-coinage  to  the  nation  was 
about  ;^3, 000,000.  Paterson,  who  was  one  of  the 
first  Directors  of  the  Bank  of  England,  upon  a 
qualification  of  ^£"2,000  stock,  disagreed  with  his 
colleagues  on  the  question  of  the  Bank's  legiti- 
mate operations,  and  sold  out  in  1695.  Inijoi, 
Paterson  says,  after  the  peace  of  Ryswick,  he  had 
an  audience  of  King  William,  and  drew  his  at- 
tention to  the  importance  of  three  great  measures 
— the  union  with  Scotland,  the  seizing  the  prin- 
cipal Spanish  ports  in  the  West  Indies,  and  the 
holding  a  commission  of  inquiry  into  the  conduct 
of  those  who  had  mismanaged  the  King's  affairs 
during  his  absence  in  Flanders.  Paterson  died  in 
1 7 1 9,  on  the  eve  of  the  fatal  South  Sea  Bubble. 

When  the  notes  of  the  Bank  were  at  20  per 
cent,  discount,  the  Government  (says  Francis)  em- 
powered the  corporation  to  add  ;^  1,00 1,171  los.  to 
their  original  stock,  and  public  faith  was  restored 
by  four-fifths  of  the  subscriptions  being  received  in 
tallies  and  orders,  and  one-fifth  in  bank-notes  at 
their  full  value,  although  both  were  at  a  heavy  dis- 
count in  the  market. 

The   past   services  of  the  Bank  were  not  for- 


456 


OLD   AND    NEW   LONDON. 


[Bank  of  England. 


gotten.  The  Ministry  resolved  that  it  should  be 
enlarged  by  new  subscriptions ;  that  provision 
should  be  made  for  paying  the  principal  of  the 
tallies  subscribed  in  the  Bank ;  that  8  per  cent, 
should  be  allowed  on  all  such  tallies,  to  meet 
which  a  duty  on  salt  was  imposed;  that  the  charter 
should  be  prolonged  to  August,  1710;  that  before 
the  beginning  of  the  new  subscriptions  the  old 
capital  should  be  made  up  to  each  member  100 
per  cent. ;   and  what  might  exceed    that    value 


The  charter  was  at  the  same  time  extended  to 
1 7 10,  and  not  even  then  to  be  withdrawn,  unless 
Government  paid  the  full  debt.  Forgery  of  the 
Company's  seal,  notes,  or  bills  was  made  felony 
without  benefit  of  clergy.  Sir  Gilbert  Heathcote, 
one  of  the  Bank  Directors,  gained  ;^6o,ooo  by 
this  scheme.  The  Bank  is  said  to  have  offered 
the  King  at  this  time  the  loan  of  a  million  without 
interest  for  twenty-one  years,  if  the  Government 
would   extend  the  charter  for  that  time.     Bank 


THE  OLD  BANK,  LOOKING  FROM   THE   MANSION   HOUSE.      {From  a  Print  of  X^IO.) 


should  be  divided  among  the  new  members ;  that 
the  Bank  might  circulate  additional  notes  to  the 
amount  subscribed,  provided  they  were  payable  on 
demand,  and  in  default  they  were  to  be  paid  by 
the  Exchequer  out  of  the  first  money  due  to  the 
Bank;  that  no  other  bank  should  be  allowed  by 
Act  of  Parliament  during  the  continuance  of  the 
Bank  of  England ;  that  it  should  be  exempt  from 
all  tax  or  imposition ;  and  that  no  contract  made 
for  any  Bank  stock  to  be  bought  or  sold  should 
be  valid  unless  registered  in  the  Bank  books, 
and  transferred  within  fourteen  days.  It  was  also 
enacted  that  not  above  two-thirds  of  the  directors 
should  be  re-elected  in  the  succeeding  year.  These 
vigorous  measures  Were  thoroughly  successful. 


stock,  given  to  the  proprietors  in  exchange  for 
tallies  at  50  per  cent,  discount,  rose  to  112.  The 
Bank  had  lowered  the  interest  of  money.  As  early 
as  1697  it  had  proposed  to  have  branch  Banks  in 
every  city  and  market  town  of  England. 

In  1 700-1 704,  the  conquests  of  Louis  XIV. 
alarmed  England,  and  shook  the  credit  of  the 
Bank.  In  the  latter  year  the  Bank  Directors  were 
once  more  obliged  to  issue  sealed  bills  bearing 
interest  for  a  large  sum,  in  order  to  keep  up  their 
credit.  In  1707  the  fears  of  an  invasion  threatened 
by  the  Pretender  brought  down  stocks  14  or  15 
per  cent.  The  goldsmiths  then  gathered  up  Bank 
bills,  and  tried  to  press  the  Directors,  Hoare  and 
Child  both  joined  in  the  attack,  and  the  latter  pre- 


Bank  of  England.] 


THE   BANK  OF   ENGLAND   IN   TROUBLE. 


457 


tended  to  refuse  the  bills  of  the  Bank.  The  loyal 
Whigs,  however,  instead  of  withdrawing  their  de- 
posits, helped  it  with  all  their  available  cash.  The 
Dukes  of  Marlborough,  Newcastle,  and  Somerset, 
with  others  of  the  nobility,  hurried  to  the  Bank 
with  their  coaches  brimming  with  heavy  bags  ot 
long  hoarded  guineas.     A  private  individual,  who 


In  1708  the  charter  was  extended  to  1732. 
This  concession  was  again  vehemently  opposed 
by  the  enemies  of  the  Bank.  Nathaniel  Tench, 
who  wrote  a  reply  for  the  directors,  proved  that 
the  Bank  had  never  bought  land,  or  monopoUsed 
any  other  commodity^  and  had,  on  the  contrary, 
increased  and  encouraged  trade.     He  asserted  that 


OLD  PATCH.     {See  page  459.) 


had  but  ;2{^5oo,  carried  it  to  the  Bank  ;  and  on  the 
story  being  told  to  the  Queen,  she  sent  him  ;^ioo, 
with  an  obligation  on  the  Treasury  to  repay  the 
whole  ;^5oo.  Lord  Godolphin,  seeing  the  crisis, 
astutely  persuaded  Queen  Anne  to  allow  the  Bank 
for  six  months  an  interest  of  6  per  cent,  on  their 
sealed  bills.  This,  and  a  call  of  20  per  cent,  on  the 
proprietors,  saved  the  credit  of  the  Bank. 
39 


they  had  never  influenced  an  elector,  and  had  been 
the  chief  cause  of  lowering  the  interest  of  money, 
even  in  war  time.  The  Government  wishing  to 
circulate  Exchequer  bills,  the  Bank  raised  their 
capital  by  new  subscriptions  to  ;i^5, 000,000.  The 
new  subscriptions  were  raised  in  a  few  hours,  and 
nearly  one  million  more  could  have  been  obtained 
on  the  same  day. 


45S 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Bank  of  England. 


During  the  absurd  Tory  riots  of  1709  the  Bank 
was  in  considerable  danger.     A  vain,  mischievous 
High  Church  clergyman   named   Sacheverell  had 
been  foolishly  prosecuted  for  attacking  the  Whig 
Government,  and  calling  the  Lord  Treasurer  Go- 
dolphin  "  Volpone"  (a  character  in  a  celebrated  play 
written  by  Ben  Jonson).     A  guard  of  butchers 
escorted  the  firebrand  to  his  trial  at  Westminster 
Hall,  at  which  Queen  Anne  was  present.     Riots 
then  broke  out,  and  the  High  Church  mob  sacked 
several  Dissenting  chapels,  burning  the  pews  and 
pulpits  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  Holborn,  and  else- 
where, and  even  threatened  to  use  a  Dissenting 
preacher    as    a    holocaust     The    rioters  at  last 
threatened  the  Bank.     The   Queen  at  once  sent 
her  guards,  horse  and  foot,  to  the  City,  and  left 
herself  unprotected.     "Am  I  to  preach  or  fight?" 
was  the  first  question  of  Captain  Horsey,  who  led 
the  cavalry.     But  the  question  needed  no  answer, 
for  the  rioters  at  once  dispersed. 

In  1 7 13  the  Bank  charter  was  renewed  until 
1742.  The  great  catastrophe  of  the  South  Sea 
Bubble  in  1720,  which  we  shall  sketch  fully  in 
another  chapter,  did  not  injure  the  Bank.  The 
directors  generously  tried  to  save  the  fallen  com- 
pany, but  (as  might  have  been  expected)  utterly 
failed.  With  prudence,  perhaps,  gained  from  this 
national  cataclysm,  the  Banlc,  in  1722,  commenced 
keeping  a  reserve— the  "rest"— that  rock  on 
which  unshakable  credit  has  ever  since  been 
proudly  built.  In  1728  no  notes  were  issued  by 
the  Bank  for  less  than  ;^20,  and  as  part  of  the 
note  only  was  printed  the  clerk's  pen  supplied  the 
remainder. 

In  1742,  when  the  charter  was  renewed  till 
1762,  the  loan  of  ^1,600,000,  without  interest,  was 
required  by  the  Government  for  the  favour.  By 
the  act  of  renewal  forging  bank-notes,  &c.,  was 
declared  punishable  with  death. 

The  Bank  was  at  this  time  a  small  and  modest 
building,  surrounded  by  houses,  and  almost  in- 
visible to  passers  by.  There  was  a  church  called 
Christopher  le  Stocks,  afterwards  pulled  down  for 
fear  it  should  ever  be  occupied  by  rioters,  and 
three  taverns,  too,  on  the  south  side,  in  Bartholo- 
mew Lane,  just  where  the  chief  entrance  now  is, 
and  about  fifteen  or  twenty  private  buildings.  A 
few  years  later  visitors  used  to  be  shown  in  the 
bullion  office  the  original  bank  chest,  no  larger 
than  a  seamen's,  and  the  original  shelves  and  cases 
for  the  books  of  business,  to  show  the  extraor- 
dinary rapidity  with  which  the  institution  had 
struck  root  and  borne  fruit. 

Iti  1746,  the  capital  on  which  tlie  Bank  stock 
proprietors  divided  amounted  to  ;!^io,78o,ooo.    It 


had  been  more  than  octupled  in  little  more  than 
half  a  century.  The  year  1752  is  remarkable  as 
that  in  which  the  foundation  of  the  present  "  Three 
per  Cent.  Consols  "  was  laid.  "  The  stock,"  says 
Francis,  "was  thus  termed  from  the  balance  ot 
some  annuities  granted  by  George  I.  being  con- 
solidated into  one  fund  with  a  Three  per  Cent, 
stock  formed  in  1731." 

In  1759  bank-notes  of  a  smaller  value  than  £20 
were  first  circulated.     In  1764  the  Bank  charter 
was  renewed  on  a  gift  of  ;^i  10,000,  and  an  ad- 
vance of  one  million  for  Exchequer  bills  for  two 
years,  at  3  per  cent,  interest.     It  was  at  the  same 
time  made  felony  without  benefit  of  clergy  to  forge 
powers  of  attorney  for  receiving  dividends,  trans- 
ferring or  selUng  stock.     The  Government,  which 
had  won  twelve  millions  before  the  Seven  Years' 
War,  annihilated  the  navy  of  France,  and  wrested 
India  from  the  French  sway,  was  glad  to  recruit  its 
treasury  by  so  profitable  a  bargain  with  the  Bank. 
In  1773  an  Act  was  passed  making  it  punishable 
with  death  to  copy  the  water-mark  of  the  bank- 
note paper.     By  an  Act  of  1775  "otes  of  a  less 
amount  than  twenty  shillings  were  prohibited,  and 
two  years  afterwards  the  amount  was  limited  to  ;^5. 
During  the  formidable  riots  of  1780  the  Bank  was 
in  considerable  danger.     In  one  night  there  rose  the 
fiames  of  six-and-thirty  fires.     The  Catholic  chapels 
and  the  tallow-chandlers'   shops  were   universally 
destroyed;    Newgate    was    sacked    and    burned. 
The  mob,  half  thieves,  at  last  decided  to  march 
upon  the   Bank,  but  precaurions  had  been  taken 
there.     The  courts  and  roof  of  the  building  were 
defended   by   armed   clerks   and  volunteers,  and 
there  were  soldiers  ready  outside.     The  old  pewter 
inkstands   had   been    melted   into   bullets.      The 
rioters  made  two  rushes ;  the  first  was  checked  by 
a  volley  from  the  soldiers;  at  the  second,  which 
was  less  violent,  Wilkes  rushed  out,  and  with  his 
own  hand  dragged  in  some  of  the    ringleaders. 
Leaving  several  killed  and  many  wounded,  the  dis- 
comfited mob  at  last  retired. 

In  1 78 1,  the  Bank  charter  having  nearly  ex. 
pired,  Lord  North  proposed  a  renewal  for  twenty- 
five  years,  the  terms  being  a  loan  of  iwo  millions 
for  three  years,  at  3  per  cent,  to  pay  off  the  navy 
debt  In  1783  the  notes  and  bills  of  the  Bank 
were  exempted  from  the  operation  of  the  Stamp^ 
Act,  on  consideration  of  an  annual  payment  of 
^12,000.  The  Government  allowance  of  ^56 2  los. 
per  million  for  managing  the  National  Debt  was 
reduced  at  this  time  to  ^450-  Five  years  latei 
our  debt  was  calculated  at  242  millions,  which, 
taken  in  £\o  notes,  would  weigh,  it  was  curiously 
calculated,  47,265  lbs. 


Bank  of  England.] 


ABRAHAM    NEWLAND. 


459 


It  was  about  1784  that  the  first  attempts  at 
forgery  on  a  tremendous  scale  were  discovered  by 
the  Bank.  A  rogue  of  genius,  generally  known, 
from  his  favourite  disguise,  as  "  Old  Patch,"  by  a 
long  series  of  forgeries  secured  a  sum  of  more  than 
;j£"2oo,ooo.  He  was  the  son  of  an  old  clothes' 
man  in  Monmouth  Street ;  and  had  been  a  lottery- 
office  keeper,  stockbroker,  and  gambler.  At  one 
time  he  was  a  jDartner  with  Foote,  the  celebrated 
comedian,  in  a  brewery.  He  made  his  own  ink, 
manufactured  his  own  paper,  and  with  a  private 
press  worked  off  his  own  notes.  His  mistress 
was  his  only  confidante.  His  disguises  were  nu- 
merous and  perfect.  His  servants  or  boys,  hired 
from  the  street,  always  presented  the  forged  notes. 
When  seized  and  thrown  into  prison,  Old  Patch 
hung  himself  in  his  cell. 

During  the  wars  with  France  Pitt  was  always 
soliciting  the  help  of  the  Bank.  In  1796,  great 
alarm  was  felt  at  the  diminution  of  gold,  and  Tom 
Paine  wrote  a  pamphlet  to  prove  that  the  Bank 
cellars  could  not  hold  more  than  a  million  of  specie, 
while  there  were  sixty  millions  of  bank-notes  in 
circulation.  It  was,  however,  proved  that  the 
specie  amounted  to  about  three  millions,  and  the 
circulation  to  only  nine  or  ten.  Early  in  1796, 
when  the  specie  sank  to  ^^1,272,000,  the  Bank 
suspended  cash  payments,  and  notes  under  ^5 
were  issued,  and  dollars  prepared  for  circulation. 
The  Bank  Restriction  Act  was  soon  after  passed, 
discontinuing  cash  payments  till  the  conclusion  of 
the  war.  For  the  renewal  of  the  charter  in  i8oo, 
the  Bank  proposed  to  lend  three  millions  for  six 
years,  without  interest,  a  right  being  reserved  to 
them  of  claiming  repayment  at  any  time  before 
the  expiration  of  six  years,  if  Consols  should  be  at 
or  above  80  per  cent.  In  1802,  Mr.  Addington 
said  in  the  House  of  Commons  that  since  1797  the 
forgeries  of  bank-notes  had  so  alarmingly  increased 
as  to  require  seventy  additional  clerks  merely  to 
detect  them,  and  that  every  year  no  less  than  thirty 
or  forty,  persons  had  been  executed  for  forgery. 

In  1807,  the  celebrated  chief  cashier  of  the 
Bank,  Abraham  Newland,  the  hero  of  Dibdin's 
well-known  song— 

"  Sham  Abraham  you  may, 
But  you  mustn't  sham  Abraham  Newland," 

retired  from  his  duties,  obtained  a  pension,  and 
the  same  year  died.  His  property  amounted  to 
;^2oo,ooo,  besides  ;^i,ooo  a  year  landed  estate. 
He  had  made  large  sums  by  loans  during  the  war, 
a  certain  amount  of  which  were  always  reserved 
for  the  cashier's  office.  It  is  supposed  the  faithful 
old  Bank  servant  had  lent  large  sums  to  the 
Goldsmiths,  the  great  stockbrokers,  the  contractors 


for  many  of  these  loans,  as  he  left  them  ;^5oq 
each  to  buy  mourning-rings.  • 

The  Bullion  Committee  of  1809  was  moved  for 
by  Mr.  Horner  to  ascertain  if  the  rise  in  the  price 
of  gold  did  not  arise  from  the  over-issue  of  notes. 
There  was  a  growing  feeling  that  bank-notes  did 
not  represent  the  specified  amount  of  gold,  and  the 
committee  recommended  a  speedy  return  to  cash 
payments.  In  Parliament  Mr.  Fuller,  that  butt 
of  the  House,  proposed  if  the  guinea  was  really 
worth  24s.,  to  raise  it  at  once  to  that  price. 
Guineas  at  this  time  were  exported  to  France  in 
large  numbers  by  smugglers  in  boats  made  espe- 
cially for  the  purpose.  The  Bank,  which  had 
before  issued  dollars,  now  circulated  silver  tokens 
for  5s.  6d.,  3s.,  and  is.  6d. 

Peel's  currency  bill  of  181 9  secured  a  gradual 
return  of  cash  payments,  and  the  old  metallic 
standard  was  restored.  It  was  Peel's  gi-eat  principle 
that  a  national  bank  should  always  be  prepared 
to  pay  specie  for  its  notes  on  demand,  a  principle 
he  afterwards  worked  out  in  the  Bank  Charter. 
The  same  year  a  new  plan  was  devised  to  prevent 
bank-notes  being  forged.  The  Com.mittee's  report 
says: — "A  number  of  squares  will  appear  in 
cfhequer-work  upon  the  note,  filled  with  hair  lines 
in  elliptic  curves  of  various  degrees  of  eccentricity, 
the  squares  to  be  alternately  of  red  and  black 
lines ;  the  perfect  mathematical  coincidence  of  the 
extremity  of  the  lines  of  different  colours  on  the 
sides  of  the  squares  will  be  effected  by  machinery 
of  singular  fidelity.  But  even  with  the  use  of  this 
machinery  a  person  who  has  not  the  key  to  the 
proper  disposition  would  make  millions  of  experi- 
ments to  no  purpose.  Other  obstacles  to  imitation 
will  also  be  presented  in  the  structure  of  the  note  ; 
but  this  is  the  one  principally  relied  upon.  It  is 
plain  that  any  failure  in  the  imitation  will  be  made 
manifest  to  the  observation  of  the  most  careless, 
and  the  most  skilful  merchants  who  have  seen  the 
operation  declare  that  the  note  cannot  be  imitated. 
The  remarkable  machine  works  with  three  cylinders, 
and  the  impression  is  made  by  small  convex  cylin- 
drical plates." 

In  182 1  the  real  re-commencement  of  specie 
payments  took  place.  In  1822  Turner,  a  Bank 
clerk,  stole  ^10,000  by  altering  the  transfer  book. 
The  rascal,  however,  was  too  clever  for  the  Bank, 
and  escaped.  In  1822  Mr.  Pascoe  Grenfell  put 
the  profits  of  the  Bank  at  twenty-five  millions,  in 
twenty-five  years,  after  seven  per  cent,  was  divided. 

By  Fauntleroy's  (the  banker)  forgeries  in  18?  1. 
the  Bank  lost  ^360,000,  and  the  interest  alone, 
which  was  regularly  paid,  had  amounted  to  ^9,00^ 
or  ^10,000  a  year.     Fauntleroy's  bank  was  in 


460 


OLD   AND    NEW  LONDON. 


[Bank  of  England. 


Bemers  Street.  He  had  forged  powers  of  attorney 
to  enabk  him  to  sell  out  stock.  An  epicure  and 
a  vohiptuary,  he  had  Hved  in  extraordinary  kixury. 
In  a  private  desk  was  found  a  hst  of  his  forgeries, 
ending  with  these  words  :  "  The  Bank  first  began 
to  refuse  our  acceptances,  thereby  destroying  the 
credit  of  our  house.  The  Bank  shall  smart  for  it." 
After  Fauntleroy  was  hung  at  Newgate  there  were 
obscure  rumours  in  the  City  that  he  had  been  saved 
by  a  silver  tube  being  placed  in  his  throat,  and  that 
he  had  escaped  to  Paris. 

Having  given  a  summary  of  the  history  of  the 
Bank  of  England,  we  now  propose  to  select  a  series 
of  anecdotes,  arranged  by  dates,  which  will  convey  a 
fuller  and  more  detailed  notion  of  the  romance  and 
the  vicissitudes  of  banking  life. 

The  Bank  was  first  established  (says  Francis) 
in  Mercers'  Hall,  and  aftenvards  in  Grocers'  Hall, 
since  razed  for  the  erection  of  a  more  stately  stnic- 1 
ture.  Here,  in  one  room,  with  almost  primitive  sim- 
plicity, were  gathered  all  who  performed  the  duties 
of  the  establishment.  "  I  looked  into  the  great 
hall  where  the  Bank  is  kept,"  says  the  graceful 
essayist  of  the  day,  "  and  was  not  a  little  pleased 
to  see  the  directors,  secretaries,  and  clerks,  with 
all  the  other  members  of  that  wealthy  corporation, 
ranged  in  their  several  stations  according  to  the 
parts  they  hold  in  that  just  and  regular  economy." 

Mr.  Michael  Godfrey,  to  whose  exertions,  with 
those  of  W'illiam  Paterson,  may  be  traced  the  suc- 
cessful establishment  of  the  Bank,  met  with  a 
somewhat  singular  fate,  on  the  17th  of  July,  1695. 
At  that  time  the  transmission  of  specie  was  difficult 
and  full  of  hazard,  and  Mr.  Godfrey  left  his  peaceful 
avocations  to  visit  Namur,  then  vigorously  besieged 
by  the  English  monarch.  The  deputy-governor, 
willing  to  flatter  the  King,  anxious  to  forward  his 
mission,  or  possibly  imagining  the  vicinity  of  the 
Sovereign  to  be  the  safest  place  he  could  choose, 
ventured  into  the  trenches.  "As  you  are  no  ad- 
venturer in  the  trade  of  war,  Mr.  Godfrey,"  said 
William,  "  I  think  you  should  not  expose  yourself 
to  the  hazard  of  it."  "  Not  being  more  exposed 
than  your  Majesty,"  was  the  courtly  reply,  "  should 
I  be  excusable  if  I  showed  more  concern  ?  "  "  Yes," 
returned  William ;  "  I  am  in  my  duty,  and  therefore 
have  a  more  reasonable  claim  to  preservation."  A 
cannon-ball  at  this  moment  answered  the  "  reason- 
able claim  to  preservation"  by  killing  Mr.  Godfrey ; 
and  it  requires  no  great  stretch  of  imagination  to 
fancy  a  saturnine  smile  passing  over  the  countenance 
of  the  monarch,  as  he  beheld  the  fate  of  the  citizen 
who  paid  so  heavy  a  penalty  for  playing  the  courtier 
in  the  trenches  of  Namur. 

On  the  31st  of  August,  1731,  a  scene  was  pre- 


sented which  strongly  marks  the  infatuation  and 
ignorance  of  lottery  adventurers.  The  tickets  for 
the  State  lottery  were  delivered  out  to  the  sub- 
scribers at  the  Bank  of  England ;  when  the  crowd 
becoming  so  great  as  to  obstruct  the  clerks,  they 
told  them,  *'  We  deliver  blanks  to-day,  but  to- 
morrow we  shall  deliver  the  prizes ; "  upon  which 
many,  who  were  by  no  means  for  blanks,  retired, 
and  by  this  bold  stratagem  the  clerks  obtained 
room  to  proceed  in  their  business.  In  this  lottery, 
we  read,  "  Her  Majesty  presented  his  Royal  High- 
ness the  Duke  with  ten  tickets." 

In  1738  the  roads  were  so  infested  by  highway- 
men, and  mails  were  so  frequently  stopped  by  the 
gentlemen  in  the  black  masks,  that  the  post-master 
made  a  representation  to  the  Bank  upon  the  subject, 
and  the  directors  in  consequence  advertised  an  issue 
of  bills  payable  at  "  seven  days'  sight,"  that,  in  case 
of  the  mail  being  robbed,  the  proprietor  of  stolen 
bills  might  have  time  to  give  notice. 

The  effect  of  the  arrival,  in  1745,  of  Charles 
Edward  at  Derby,  upon  the  National  Bank,  was 
alarming  indeed.  Its  interests  were  involved  in 
those  of  the  State,  and  the  creditors  flocked  in 
crowds  to  obtain  payment  for  their  notes.  The 
directors,  unprepared  for  such  a  casualty,  had 
recourse  to  a  justifiable  stratagem  ;  and  it  was  only 
by  this  that  they  escaped  bankruptcy.  Payment 
was  not  refused,  but  the  corporation  retained  its 
specie,  by  employing  agents  to  enter  with  notes, 
who,  to  gain  time,  were  paid  in  sixpences ;  and  as 
those  who  came  first  were  entitled  to  priority  of 
payment,  the  agents  went  out  at  one  door  with  the 
specie  they  had  received,  and  brought  it  back  by 
another,  so  that  the  bona-fide  holders  of  notes  could 
never  get  near  enough  to  present  them.  "  By  this 
artifice,"  says  our  authority,  somewhat  quaintly,  "  the 
Bank  preserved  its  credit,  and  literally  faced  its 
creditors." 

An  extraordinary  affair  happened  about  the  year 
1740.  One  of  the  directors,  a  very  rich  man,  had 
occasion  for  ^^30,000,  which  he  was  to  pay  as  the 
price  of  an  estate  he  had  just  bought.  To  facili- 
tate the  matter,  he  carried  the  sum  with  him  to 
the  Bank,  and  obtained  for  it  a  bank-note.  On 
his  return  home  he  was  suddenly  called  out  upon 
particular  business;  he  threw  the  note  carelessly 
on  the  chimney,  but  when  he  came  back  a  few 
minutes  afterwards  to  lock  it  up,  it  was  not  to  be 
found.  No  one  had  entered  the  room ;  he  could 
not,  therefore,  suspect  any  person.  At  last,  after 
much  ineffectual  search,  he  was  persuaded  that  it 
had  fallen  from  the  chimney  into  the  fire.  The 
director  went  to  acquaint  his  colleagues  with  the 
misfortune  that  had  happened  to  him ;  and  as  he 


^ank  of  England.] 


FATAL  BANK  NOTES. 


461 


was  known  to  be  a  perfectly  honourable  man,  he 
was  readily  believed.  It  was  only  about  twenty- 
four  hours  from  the  time  that  he  had  deposited 
the  money;  they  thought,  therefore,  that  it  would 
be  hard  to  refuse  his  request  for  a  second  bill. 
He  received  it  upon  giving  an  obligation  to  restore 
the  first  bill,  if  it  should  ever  be  found,  or  to  pay 
the  money  himself,  if  it  should  be  presented  by 
any  stranger.  About  thirty  years  afterwards  (the 
director  having  been  long  dead,  and  his  heirs  in 
possession  of  his  fortune)  an  unknown  person  pre- 
sented the  lost  bill  at  the  Bank,  and  demanded 
payment.  It  was  in  vain  that  they  mentioned  to 
this  person  the  transaction  by  which  that  bill  was 
annulled ;  he  would  not  listen  to  it.  He  maintained 
that  it  came  to  him  from  abroad,  and  insisted  upon 
immediate  payment.  The  note  was  payable  to 
bearer,  and  the  ^30,000  were  paid  him.  The 
heirs  of  the  director  would  not  listen  to  any  de- 
mands of  restitution,  and  the  Bank  was  obliged  to 
sustain  the  loss.  It  was*  discovered  afterwards 
tliat  an  architect  having  purchased  the  director's 
house,  and  taken  it  down,  in  order  to  build  another 
upon  the  same  spot,  had  found  the  note  in  a 
crevice  of  the  chimney,  and  made  his  discovery 
an  engine  for  robbing  the  Bank. 

In  the  early  part  of  last  century,  the  practice  of 
bankers  was  to  deliver  in  exchange  for  money 
deposited  a  receipt,  which  might  be  circulated  like 
a  modern  cheque.  Bank-notes  were  then  at  a 
discount;  and  the  Bank  of  England,  jealous  of 
Childs'  reputation,  secretly  collected  the  receipts 
of  their  rivals,  determined,  when  they  had  procured 
a  very  large  number,  suddenly  to  demand  money 
for  them,  hoping  that  Childs'  would  not  be  able  to 
meet  their  liabilities.  Fortunately  for  the  latter, 
they  got  scent  of  this  plot ;  and  in  great  alarm 
applied  to  the  celebrated  Duchess  of  Marlborough, 
who  gave  them  a  single  cheque  of  ;^7oo,ooo  on 
their  opponents.  Thus  armed,  Childs'  waited  the 
arrival  of  the  enemy.  It  was  arranged  that  this 
business  should  be  transacted  by  one  of  the  part- 
ners, and  that  a  confidential  clerk,  on  a  given 
signal,  should  proceed  with  all  speed  to  the  Bank 
to  get  the  cheque  cashed.  At  last  a  clerk  from 
the  Bank  of  England  appeared,  with  a  full  bag,  and 
demanded  money  for  a  large  number  of  receipts. 
The  partner  was  called,  who  desired  him  to  present 
them  singly.  The  signal  was  given ;  the  con- 
fidential clerk  hurried  on  his  mission ;  the  partner 
was  very  deliberate  in  his  movements,  and  long 
before  he  had  taken  an  account  of  all  the  receipts, 
his  emissary  returned  with  ^700,000 ;  and  the 
whole  amount  of  ;j^5oo,ooo  or  ;^6oo,ooo  was 
paid  by  Childs'  in  Bank  of   England  notes.     In 


addition  to  the  triumph  of  this  manoeuvre,  Childs' 
must  have  made  a  large  sum,  from  Bank  paper- 
being  at  a  considerable  discount. 

The  day  on  which  a  forged  note  was  first 
presented  at  the  Bank  of  England  forms  a  remark- 
able era  in  its  history ;  and  to  Richard  William 
Vaughan,  a  Stafford  linendraper,  belongs  the 
melancholy  celebrity  of  having  led  the  van  in  this 
new  phase  of  crime,  in  the  year  1758.  The  records 
of  liis  life  do  not  show  want,  beggary,  or  starvation 
urging  him,  but  a  simple  desire  to  seem  greater 
than  he  was.  By  one  of  the  artists  employed — 
and  there  were  several  engaged  on  ditferent  parts  of 
the  notes — the  discovery  was  made.  The  criminal 
had  filled  up  to  the  number  of  twenty,  and 
deposited  them  in  the  hands  of  a  young  lady,  to 
whom  he  was  attached,  as  a  proof  of  his  wealth. 
There  is  no  calculating  how  much  longer  Bank 
notes  might  have  been  free  from  imitation,  had 
this  man  not  shown  with  what  ease  they  might  be 
counterfeited.     (Francis.) 

The  circulation  of  ^i  notes  led  to  much 
forgery,  and  to  a  melancholy  waste  of  human  life. 
Considering  the  advances  made  in  the  mechanical 
arts,  small  notes  were  rough,  and  even  rude  in 
their  execution.  Easily  imitated,  they  were  also 
easily  circulated,  and  from  1797  the  executions 
for  forgery  augmented  to  an  extent  which  bore  no 
proportion  to  any  other  class  of  crime.  During 
six  years  prior  to  their  issue  there  was  but  one 
capital  conviction  ;  during  the  four  following  years 
eighty-five  occurred.  The  great  increase  produced 
inquiry,  which  resulted  in  an  Act  "  For  the  better 
prevention  of  the  forgery  of  the  notes  and  bills  of 
exchange  of  persons  carrying  on  the  business  of 
banker." 

In  the  year  1758  a  judgment  was  given  by 
the  Lord  Chief  Justice  in  connection  with  some 
notes  which  were  stolen  from  one  of  the  mails. 
The  robber,  after  stopping  the  coach  and  taking 
out  all  the  money  contained  in  the  letters,  went 
boldly  to  a  Mr.  Miller,  at  the  Hatfield  post-ofiice, 
who  unhesitatingly  exchanged  one  of  them.  Here 
he  ordered  a  post-chaise,  with  four  horses,  and 
at  several  stages  passed  off"  the  remainder.  They 
were,  however,  stopped  at  the  Bank,  and  an  action 
was  brought  by  the  possessor  to  recover  the  money. 
The  question  was  an  important  one,  and  it  was 
decided  by  the  law  authorities,  **that  any  person 
paying  a  valuable  consideration  for  a  Bank  note, 
payable  to  bearer,  in  a  fair  course  of  business,  has 
an  undoubted  right  to  recover  the  money  of  the 
Bank."  The  action  was  maintained  upon  the  plea 
that  the  figure  11,  denoting  the  date,  had  been 
converted  by  the  robber  to  a  4. 


462 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Bank  of  England. 


A  new  crime  was  discovered  in  1767.  The 
notice  of  the  clerks  at  the  Bank  had  been  attracted 
by  the  habit  of  WilHam  Guest,  a  teller,  of  picking 
new  from  old  guineas  without  assigning  any  reason. 
An  indefinite  suspicion — increased  by  the  know- 
ledge that  an  ingot  of  gold  had  been  seen  in 
Guest's  possession — arose,  and  although  he  asserted 
that  it  came  from  Holland,  it  was  very  unlike  the 
regular  bars  of  gold,  and  had  a  large  quantity  of 
copper  at  the  back.      Attention  being  thus  drawn 


was  the  greatest  improvement  he  had  ever  seen,  is 
said  to  be  yet  in  the  Mint. 

In  1772  an  action  interesting  to  the  public  was 
brought  against  the  Bank.  It  appeared  from  the 
evidence  that  some  stock  stood  in  the  joint  names 
of  a  man  and  his  wife ;  and  by  the  rules  of  the 
corporation  the  signatures  of  both  were  required 
before  it  could  be  transferred.  To  this  the  husband 
objected,  and  claimed  the  right  of  selling  without 
his   wife's    signature  or  consent.      The   Court   of 


THE   BANK    PARLOUR,    EXTERIOR   VIEW. 


to  the  behaviour  of  Guest,  he  was  observed  to 
hand  one  Richard  Still  some  guineas,  which  he 
took  from  a  private  drawer,  and  placed  with  the 
others  on  the  table.  Still  was  immediately 
followed,  and  on  the  examination  of  his  money 
three  of  the  guineas  in  his  possession  were  deficient 
in  weight.  An  inquiry  was  immediately  instituted. 
Forty  of  the  guineas  in  the  charge  of  Guest  looked 
fresher  than  the  others  upon  the  edges,  and  weighed 
much  less  than  the  legitimate  amount.  On  search- 
ing his  house  some  gold  filings  were  found,  with 
instruments  calculated  to  produce  artificial  edges. 
Proofs  soon  multiplied,  and  the  prisoner  was  found 
guilty.  The  instrument  with  which  he  had  effected 
his  fraud,  of  which  one  of  the  witnesses  asserted  it 


King's  Bench  decided  in  favour  of  the  plaintiff, 
with  full  costs  of  suit.  Lord  Mansfield  believing 
that  "  it  was  highly  cruel  and  oppressive  to  withhold 
from  the  husband  his  right  of  transferring." 

On  the  loth  of  June,  1772,  Neale  and  Co.,  ban- 
kers, in  Threadneedle  Street,  stopped  payment ; 
other  failures  resulted  in  consequence,  and  through- 
out the  City  there  was  a  general  consternation.  The 
timely  interposition  of  the  Bank,  and  the  generous 
assistance  of  the  merchants,  prevented  many  of  the 
expected  stoppages,  and  trade  appeared  restored 
to  its  former  security.  It  was,  however,  only  an 
appearance;  for  on  Monday,  the  22nd  of  the  same 
month,  may  be  read,  in  a  contemporary  authority, 
a    description   of  the   prevailing   agitation,   v.hich 


Bank  of  England.^ 


FRAUDS  ON  THE  BANK. 


463 


4^4 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


tBanlcofEngtand. 


forcibly  reminds  us  of  a  few  years  ago.  "  It  is 
beyond  the  power  of  words  to  describe  the  general 
consternation  of  the  metropoUs  at  this  instant.  No 
event  for  fifty  years  has  been  remembered  to  give 
so  fatal  a  blow  to  trade  and  public  credit.  A 
universal  bankruptcy  was  expected;  the  stoppage  of 
almost  every  banker's  house  in  London  was  looked 
for ;  the  whole  city  was  in  an  uproar ;  many  of  the 
first  families  were  in  tears.  This  melancholy  scene 
began  with  a  rumour  that  one  of  the  greatest 
bankers  in  London  had  stopped,  which  afterwards 
proved  true.  A  report  at  the  same  time  was  pro- 
pagated that  an  immediate  stoppage  of  the  greatest 
Bank  of  all  must  talie  place.  Happily  this  proved 
groundless;  the  principal  merchants  assembled, 
and  means  were  concocted  to  revive  trade  and 
preserve  the  national  credit." 

The  desire  of  the  directors  to  discover  the  makers 
of  forged  notes  produced  a  considerable  amount  of 
anxiety  to  one  whose  name  is  indelibly  associated 
with  British  art.     George  Morland— a  name  rarely 
mentioned  but  with  feelings  of  pity  and  regret- 
had,  in  his  eagerness   to   avoid   incarceration  for 
debt,   retired   to   an   obscure   hiding-place  in  the 
suburbs  of  London.    "  On  one  occasion,"  says  Allan 
Cunningham,  "  he  hid  himself  in  Hackney,  where 
his  anxious  looks  and  secluded  manner  of  life  in- 
duced some  of  his  charitable  neighbours  to  believe 
him  a  maker  of  forged  notes.      The  directors  of 
the  Bank  dispatched  two  of  their  most  dexterous 
emissaries  to  inquire,  reconnoitre,  search  and  seize. 
The  men  arrived,  and  began  to  draw  lines  of  cir- 
cumvallation  round  the  painter's  retreat.     He  was 
not,   however,  to  be   surprised:    mistaking   those 
agents  of  evil  mien  for  bailiffs,  he  escaped  from 
behind  as   they   approached    in   front,   fled    into 
Hoxton,  and  never  halted  till  he  had  hid  himself  m 
London.     Nothing  was  found  to  justify  suspicion ; 
and  when  Mrs.  Morland,  who  was  his  companion 
in  this  retreat,  told  them  who  her  husband  was,  and 
showed  them  some  unfinished  pictures,  they  made 
such  a  report  at  the  Bank,  that  the  directors  pre- 
sented him  with  a  couple  of  Bank  notes  of  ^20 
each,  by  way  of  compensation  for  the  alarm  they 
had  given  him." 

The  proclamation  of  peace  in  1783,  says  Francis, 
was  indirectly  an  expense  to  the  Bank,  although 
hailed  with  enthusiasm  by  the  populace.  The  war 
with  America  had  assumed  an  aspect  which,  with 
all  thinking  men,  crushed  every  hope  of  conquest. 
It  was  therefore  amid  a  general  shout  of  joy  that  on 
Monday,  the  ist  of  October,  1783,  the  ceremonial 
took  place.  A  vast  multitude  attended,  and  the 
people  were  delighted  with  the  suspension  of  war. 
The  concourse  was  so  great  that  Temple  Bar  was 


opened  with  difficulty,  and  the  Lord  Mayor's 
coachman  was  kept  one  hour  before  he  was  able 
to  turn  his  vehicle.  The  Bank  only  had  reason  to 
regret,  or  at  least  not  to  sympathise  so  freely  with 
the  public  joy.  During  the  hurry  attendant  on  the 
proclamation  at  the  Royal  Exchange,  when  it  may 
be  supposed  the  sound  of  the  music  and  the  noise 
of  the  trumpet  occupied  the  attention  of  the  clerk 
more  than  was  beneficial  for  the  interests  of  his 
employers,  fourteen  notes  of  ^50  each  were  pre- 
sented at  the  office  and  cash  paid  for  them.  The 
next  day  they  were  found  to  be  forged. 

In  1783  Mathison's   celebrated   forgeries    were 
committed.      John  Mathison  was  a  man  of  great 
mechanical   capacity,    who,  becoming   acquainted 
with   an    engraver^    unhappily;  acquired    that   art 
which   ultimately   proved   his    ruin.     A  yet  more 
dangerous  qualification  was  his  of  imitating  signa- 
tures with  remarkable  accuracy.     Tempted  by  tlie 
hope  of  sudden  wealth,  his  first  forgeries  were  the 
notes  of  the    Darlington    Bank.     This  fraud  was 
soon  discovered,  and  a  reward  being  off'ered,  with 
a  description  of  his  person,  he  escaped  to  Scotland. 
There,    scorning   to   let   his    talents    lie    idle,  he 
counterfeited   the    notes   of   the   Royal   Bank   of 
Edinburgh,  amused   himself  by  negotiating  them 
during  a  pleasure  excursion  through  the  country, 
and    reached  London,  supported  by  his  imitative 
talent.     Here  a  fine  sphere  opened  for  his  genius, 
which  was  so  active,  that  in  twelve  days  he  had 
bought  the  copper,  engraved  it,  fabricated  notes, 
forged   the    water-mark,  printed    and    negotiated 
several.     When  he   had   a  sufficient  number,    he 
travelled   from   one   end   of  the   kingdom  to   the 
other,  disposing   of  them.      Having  been  in  the 
habit  of  procuring  notes  from  the  Bank  (the  more 
accurately  to  copy  them),  he  chanced  to  be  there 
when  a  clerk  from  the  Excise  Office  paid  in  7,000 
guineas,    one  of  which  was  scrupled.      Mathison, 
from  a  distance,  said  it  was  a  good  one  ;   "  then," 
said  the  Bank  clerk,  on  the  trial,  "  I  recollected 
him."     The  frequent  visits  of  Mathison,  who  was 
very  incautious,  together  with  other  circumstances, 
created  some  suspicion  that  he  might  be  connected 
with  those  notes,  which,  since  his  first  appearance, 
had  been  presented   at  the    Bank.      On  another 
occasion,  when  Mathison  was  there,  a  forged  note 
of  his  own  was  presented,  and  the  teller,  half  in 
jest    and  "half  in    earnest,  charged    Maxwell,  the 
name  by  which  he  was  known,  with  some  know- 
ledge of  the  forgeries.     Further  suspicion  was  ex^ 
cited,  and  directions  were  given  to  detain  him  at 
some'  future  period.     The  following  day  the  teller 
was  informed   that   "his   friend    Maxwell,"  as  he 
was  styled  ironically,  was  in  Cornhill.     The  clerk 


Bank  of  England.  ] 


FORGERY  OF   BANK-NOTES. 


465 


instantly  went,  and  under  pretence  of  having  paid 
Mathison  a  guinea  too  much  on  a  previous  occa- 
sion, and  of  losing  his  situation  if  the  mistake  were 
not  rectified  in  the  books,  induced  him  to  return 
with  him  to  the  hall;  from  which  place  he  was 
taken  before  the  directors,  and  afterwards  to  Sir 
John  Fielding.  To  all  the  inquiHes  he  replied, 
"He  had  a  reason  for  declining  to  answer.  He 
was  a  citizen  of  the  world,  and  knew  not  how  he 
had  come  into  it,  or  how  he  should  go  out  of  it." 
Being  detained  during  a  consultation  with  the 
Bank  solicitor,  he  suddenly  lifted  up  the  sash  and 
jumped  out  of  the  window.  On  being  taken  and 
asked  his  motive,  if  innocent,  he  said,  "  It  was  his 
humour." 

In  the  progress  of  the  inquiry,  the  Darlington 
paper,  containing  his  description,  was  read  to  him, 
when  he  turned  pale,  burst  into  tears,  and  saying 
he  was  a  dead  man,  added,  "  Now  I  will  confess 
all."  He  was,  indeed,  found  guilty  only  on  his 
own  acknowledgment,  which  stated  he  could  ac- 
complish the  whole  of  a  note  in  one  day.  It  ^vas 
asserted  at  the  time,  that,  had  it  not  been  for  his 
confession,  he  could  not  have  been  convicted. 
He  offered  to  explain  the  secret  of  his  discovery 
of  the  method  of  imitating  the  water-mark,  on  the 
condition  that  the  corporation  would  spare  his  life ; 
but  his  proposal  was  rejected,  and  he  subsequently 
paid  the  full  penalty  of  his  crime. 

The  conviction  that  some  check  was  necessary 
grew  more  and  more  peremptory  as  the  evils  of 
the  system  were  exposed.  In  fourteen  years  from 
the  first  issue  of  small  notes,  the  number  of  con- 
victions had  been  centupled.  In  the  first  ten 
years  of  the  present  century,  ;^ioi,o6i  were  re- 
fused payment,  on  the  plea  of  forgery.  In  the  two 
years  preceding  the  appointment  of  the  commis- 
sion directed  by  Government  to  inquire  into  the 
facts  connected  with  forging  notes,  nearly  ;^6o,ooo 
were  presented,  being  an  increase  of  300  per  cent. 
In  1797,  the  entire  cost  of  prosecutions  for  for- 
geries was  ;^i,5oo,  and  in  the  last  three  months 
of  1 818  it  was  near  ^20,000.  Sir  Samuel  Romilly 
said  that  "pardons  were  sometimes  found  neces- 
sary ;  but  few  were  granted  except  under  circum- 
stances of  peculiar  qualification  and  mitigation. 
He  believed  the  sense  and  feeling  of  the  people 
of  P^ngland  were  against  the  punishment  of  death 
for  forgery.  It  was  clear  the  severity  of  the  punish- 
ment had  not  prevented  the  crimes." 

The  first  instance  of  fraud,  to  a  great  amount, 
was  perpetrated  by  one  of  the  confidential  servants 
of  the  corporation.  In  the  year  1803,  Mr.  Bish,  a 
member  of  the  Stock  Exchange,  was  applied  to  by 
Mr.  Robert  Astlett,  cashier  of  the  Bank  of  England, 


to  dispose  of  some  Exchequer  bills.  When  they 
were  delivered  into  Mr.  Bish's  hands,  he  was 
greatly  astonished  to  find  not  only  that  these  bills 
had  been  previously  in  his  possession,  but  that 
they,  had  been  also  delivered  to  the  Bank.  Sur- 
prised at  this,  he  immediately  opened  a  communi- 
cation with  the  directors,  which  led  to  the  discovery 
of  the  fraud  and  the  apprehension  of  Robert  Astlett. 
By  the  evidence  produced  on  the  trial,  it  appeared 
that  the  prisoner  had  been  placed  in  charge  of  all 
the  Exchequer  bills  brought  into  the  Bank,  and  when 
a  certain  number  were  collected,  it  was  his  duty  to 
arrange  them  in  bundles,  and  deliver  them  to  the 
directors  in  the  parlour,  where  they  were  counted 
and  a  receipt  given  to  the  cashier.  This  practice 
had  been  strictly  adhered  to ;  but  the  prisoner, 
from  his  acquaintance  with  business,  had  induced 
the  directors  to  believe  that  he  had  handed  them 
bills  to  the  amount  of  ;^7 00,000,  when  they  were 
only  in  possession  of  ;!^5oo,ooo.  So  completely 
had  he  deceived  these  gentlemen,  that  two  of  the 
body  vouched  by  their  signatures  for  the  delivery 
of  the  larger  amount. 

He  was  tried  for  the  felonious  embezzlement  of 
three  bills  of  exchange  of  ;!^i,ooo  each.  He 
escaped  hanging,  but  remained  a  miserable  prisoner 
in  Newgate  for  many  years. 

In  1808  Vincent  Alessi,  a  native  of  one  of  the 
Italian  States,  went  to  Birmingham,  to  choose  some 
manufactures  likely  to  return  a  sufficient  profit  in 
Spain.  Amongst  others  he  sought  a  brass-founder, 
who  showed  him  that  which  he  required,  and  then 
drew  his  attention  to  "  another  article,"  which  he 
said  he  could  sell  cheaper  than  any  other  person  in 
the  trade.  Mr.  Alessi  declined  purchasing  this,  as 
it  appeared  to  be  a  forged  bank-note ;  upon  which 
he  was  shown  some  dollars,  as  fitter  for  the  Spanish 
market.  These  also  were  declined,  though  it  is 
not  rnuch  to  the  credit  of  the  Italian  that  he  did 
not  at  onee  denounce  the  dishonesty  of  the  Bir- 
mingham brass-founder.  It  would  seem,  however, 
from  what  followed,  that  Mr.  Alessi  was  not  quite 
unprepared,  as,  in  the  evening,  he  was  called  on  by 
one  John  Nicholls,  and  after  some  conversation, 
he  agreed  to  take  a  certain  quantity  of  notes,  of 
different  values,  which  were  to  be  paid  for  at  the 
rate  of  six  shillings  in  the  pound. 

Alessi  thought  this  a  very  profitable  business, 
while  it  lasted,  as  he  could  always  procure  as  many 
as  he  liked,  by  writing  for  so  many  dozen  candle- 
sticks, calling  them  Nos.  5,  2,  or  i,  according  to 
the  amount  of  the  note  required.  The  vigilance  of 
the  English  police,  however,  was  too  much  even 
for  the  subtlety  of  an  Italian ;  he  was  taken  by 
them,  and  allowed  to  turn  king's  evidence,  it  being 


I. 


466 


OLD   AND    NEW   LONDON. 


[Bank  of  England. 


thought  very  desirable  to  discover  the  manufactory 
whence  the  notes  emanated. 

In  December  John  Nicholls  received  a  letter 
from  Alessi,  stating  that  he  was  going  to  America ; 
that  he  wanted  to  see  Nicholls  in  London;  that  he 
required  twenty  dozen  candlesticks,  No.  5  ;  twenty- 
four  dozen,  No.  i ;  and  four  dozen,  No.  2.  Mr. 
Nicholls,  unsuspicious  of  his  correspondent's  cap- 
tivity, and  consequent  frailty,  came  forth\vith  to 
town,  to  fulfil  so  important  an  order.  Here  an 
interview  was  planned,  within  hearing  of  the  police 
officers.  Nicholls  came  with  the  forged  notes. 
Alessi  counted  up  the  whole  sum  he  was  to  pay, 
at  six  shillings  in  the  pound,  saying,  "Well,  Mr. 
Nicholls,  you  will  take  all  my  money  from  me." 
"  Never  mind,  sir,"  was  the  reply ;  "  it  will  all  be 
returned  in  the  way  of  business."  Alessi  then  re- 
marked that  it  was  cold,  and  put  on  his  hat.  This 
was  the  signal  for  the  officers.  To  the  dealer's 
surprise  and  indignation,  he  found  himself  en- 
trapped with  the  counterfeit  notes  in  his  possession, 
to  the  precise  amount  in  number  and  value  that 
had  been  ordered  in  the  letter. 

A  curious  scene  took  place  in  May,  18 1 8,  at  the 
Bank.  On  the  26th  of  that  month,  a  notice  had 
been  posted,  stating  that  books  would  be  opened 
on  the  31st  of  May,  and  two  following  days,  for 
receiving  subscriptions  to  the  amount  of  ^7,000,000 
from  persons  desirous  of  funding  Exchequer  bills. 
It  was  generally  thought  that  the  whole  of  the 
sum  would  be  immediately  subscribed,  and  great 
anxiety  was  shown  to  obtain  an  early  admission 
to  the  office  of  the  chief  cashier.  Ten  o'clock 
is  the  usual  time  for  public  business ;  but  at 
two  in  the  morning  many  persons  were  assembled 
outside  the  building,  where  they  remained  for 
several  hours,  their  numbers  gradually  augmenting. 
The  opening  of  the  outer  door  was  the  signal  for  a 
general  rush,  and  the  crowd,  for  it  now  deserved 
that  name,  next  established  themselves  in*  the  pas- 
sage leading  to  the  chief  cashier's  office,  where 
they  had  to  wait  another  hour  or  two,  to  cool  their 
collective  impatience.  When  the  time  arrived,  a 
further  contest  arose,  and  they  strove  lustily  for  an 
entrance.  The  struggle  for  preference  was  tre- 
mendous ;  and  the  door  separating  them  from  the 
chief  cashier's  room,  and  which  is  of  a  most  sub- 
stantial size,  was  forced  off  its  hinges.  By  far  the 
greater  part  of  those  who  made  this  effort  failed, 
the  whole  ;^7, 000,000  being  subscribed  by  the  first 
ten  persons  who  gained  admission. 

In  1820  a  very  extraordinary  appeal  was  made 
to  the  French  tribunals  by  a  man  named  J.  Costel, 
who  was  a  merchant  of  Hamburg,  while  the  free 
city  was  in  the  hands  of  the  French,     He  accused 


the  general  commanding  there  of  employing  him 
to  get  p^5,ooo  worth  of  English  bank-notes  changed, 
which  proved  to  be  forged,  and  he  was,  in  conse- 
quence of  this  discovery,  obliged  to  fly  from  Ham- 
burg. He  also  said  that  Savary,  Duke  of  Rovigo, 
and  Desnouettes,  were  the  fabricators,  and  that 
they  employed  persons  to  pass  them  into  England, 
one  of  whom  was  seized  by  the  London  police, 
and  hanged.  Mr.  Doubleday  asserts  that  some 
one  had  caused  a  large  quantity  of  French  assig- 
nats  to  be  forged  at  Birmingham,  with  the  view  of 
depreciating  the  credit  of  the  French  Republic. 

Merchants  and  bankers  now  began  to  declare  that 
they  would  rather  lose  their  entire  fortunes  than 
pour  forth  the  hfe  which  it  was  not  theirs  to  give. 
A  general  feeling  pervaded  the  whole  interest,  that 
it  would  be  better  to  peril  a  great  wrong  than 
to  suffer  an  unavailing  remorse.  One  petition 
against  the  penalty  of  death  was  presented,  which 
bore  three  names  only ;  but  those  were  an  honour- 
able proof  of  the  prevalent  feeling.  The  name  of 
Nathan  Meyer  Rothschild  was  the  first,  "  through 
whose  hands,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  on  presenting  the 
petition,  "  more  bills  pass  than  through  those  of 
any  twenty  firms  in  London."  The  second  was 
that  of  Overend,  Gurney,  and  Co.,  through  whom 
thirty  millions  passed  the  preceding  year  ;  and  the 
third  was  that  of  Mr.  Sanderson,  ranking  among 
the  first  in  the  same  profession,  and  a  member  of 
the  Legislature. 

A  principal  clerk  of  one  of  our  bankers  having 
robbed  his  employer  of  Bank  of  England  notes  to 
the  amount  of  ;!^2o,ooo,  made  his  escape  to 
Holland.  Unable  to  present  them  himself,  he 
sold  them  to  a  Jew.  The  price  which  he  received 
does  not  appear ;  but  there  is  no  doubt  that,  under 
the  circumstances,  a  good  bargain  was  made  by 
the  purchaser.  In  the  meantime  every  plan  was 
exhausted  to  give  publicity  to  the  loss.  The 
numbers  of  the  notes  were  advertised  in  the  news- 
papers, with  a  request  that  they  might  be  refused, 
and  for  about  six  months  no  information  was 
received  of  the  lost  property.  At  the  end  of  that 
period  the  Jew  appeared  with  the  whole  of  his 
spoil,  and  demanded  payment,  which  was  at  once 
refused  on  the  plea  that  the  bills  had  been  stolen, 
and  that  payment  had  been  stopped. 

The  owner  insisted  upon  gold,  and  the  Bank 
persisted  in  refusing.  But  the  Jew  was  an  energetic 
man,  and  was  aware  of  the  credit  of  the  corpora- 
tion. He  was  known  to  be  possessed  of  immense 
wealth,  and  he  went  deliberately  to  the  Exchange, 
where,  to  the  assembled  merchants  of  London,  in 
the  presence  of  her  citizens,  he  related  publicly 
that  the  Bank  had  refused  to  honour  their  own 


Bank  of  England.] 


NOTES  ON  BANK  OF  ENGLAND  NOTES. 


467 


bills  for  ;^2o,ooo  ;  that  their  credit  was  gone, 
their  afifairs  in  confusion ;  and  that  they  had 
stopped  payment.  The  Exchange  wore  every 
appearance  of  alarm ;  the  Hebrew  showed  the  notes 
to  corroborate  his  assertion.  He  declared  that 
they  had  been  remitted  to  him  from  Holland,  and 
as  his  transactions  were  known  to  be  extensive, 
there  appeared  every  reason  to  credit  his  statement. 
He  then  avowed  his  intention  of  advertising  this 
refusal  of  the  Bank,  and  the  citizens  thought  there 
must  be  some  truth  in  his  bold  announcement. 
Information  reached  the  directors,  who  grew 
anxious,  and  a  messenger  was  sent  to  inform  the 
holder  that  he  might  receive  cash  in  exchange  for 
his  notes. 

In  1S43  the  light  sovereigns  were  called  in. 
The  total  amount  of  light  coin  received  from  the 
nth  of  June  to  the  28th  of  July  was  ;^4,285,837, 
and  2|d.  was  the  loss  on  each,  taking  an  average 
of  35,000.  The  large  sum  of  ;^  1,400,  in  ;£i 
notes,  was  paid  into  the  Bank  this  year.  They 
had  probably  been  the  hoard  of  some  eccentric 
person,  who  evinced  his  attachment  to  the  obsolete 
paper  at  the  expense  of  his  interest.  A  lew  years 
afterwards  a  ;^2o  note  came  in  which  haa  heen 
outstanding  for  about  a  century  and  a  quarter, 
and  the  loss  of  interest  on  which  amounted  to  some 
thousands. 

And  now  a  few  anecdotes  about  bank-notes. 
An  eccentric  gentleman  in  Portland  Street,  says 
Mr.  Grant,  in  his  "  Great  Metropolis,"  framed  and 
exhibited  for  five  years  in  one  of  his  sitting-rooms 
a  Bank  post  bill  for  ;^3o,ooo.  The  fifth  year  he 
died,  and  down  came  the  picture  double  quick, 
and  was  cashed  by  his  heirs.  Some  years  ago,  at 
a  nobleman's  house  near  the  Park,  a  dispute  arose 
about  a  certain  text,  and  a  dean  present  denying 
there  was  any  such  text  at  all,  a  Bible  was  called 
for.  A  dusty  old  Bible  was  produced,  which  had 
never  been  removed  from  its  shelf  since  the  noble- 
man's mother  had  died  some  years  before.  When 
it  was  opened  a  mark  was  found  in  it,  which, 
on  examination,  turned  out  to  be  a  Bank  post  bill 
for  ;^4o,ooo.  It  might,  it  strikes  us,  have  been 
placed  there  as  a'reproof  to  the  son,  who  perhaps 
did  not  consult  his  Bible  as  often  as  his  mother 
could  have  wished.  The  author  of  "  The  American 
in  England"  describes,  in  1835,  one  of  the  servants 
of  the  Bank  putting  into  his  hand  Bank  post  bills, 
which,  before  being  cancelled  by  having  the  signa- 
tures torn  off,  had  represented  the  sum  of  five 
millions  sterling.  The  whole  made  a  parcel  tha-t 
could  with  ease  be  put  into  the  waistcoat  poclcet. 

The  largest  amount  of  a  bank-note  in  current 
circulation  in  1827  was  ;^i,coo.     It  is  said  that 


two  notes  for  ;^i  00,000  each,  and  two  for  ;z{^5 0,000, 
were  once  engraved  and  issued.  A  butcher  who 
had  amassed  an  immense  fortune  in  the  war  time, 
went  one  day  with  one  of  these  ^50,000  notes  to 
a  private  bank,  asking  the  loan  of  ;^5,ooo,  and 
wishing  to  deposit  the  big  note  as  security  in  the 
banker's  hands,  saying  that  he  had  _kept  it  for 
years.  The  ;i^5,ooo  were  at  once  handed  over, 
but  the  banker  hinted  at  the  same  time  to  the 
butcher  the  folly  of  hoarding  such  a  sum  and  losing 
the  interest.  "  Werry  true,  sir,"  replied  the  butcher, 
"but  I  hkes  the  look  on't  so  wery  well  that  I  keeps 
t'other  one  of  the  same  kind  at  home." 

As  the  Bank  of  England  pays  an  annual  average 
sum  of  ;^7  0,000  to  the  Stamp  Office  for  their 
notes,  while  other  banks  pay  a  certain  sum  on 
every  note  as  stamped,  the  Bank  of  England 
never  re-issues  its  notes,  but  destroys  them  on 
return.  A  visitor  to  the  Bank  was  one  day 
shown  a  heap  of  cinders,  which  was  the  ashes  of 
;^4o, 000,000  of  notes  recently  burned.  The  letters 
could  here  and  there  be  seen.  It  looked  like  a 
piece  of  laminated  larva,  and  was  about  three 
inches  long  and  two  inches  broad,  weighing  pro- 
bably from  ten  to  twelve  ounces. 

The  losses  of  the  Bank  are  considerable.  In 
1820  no  fewer  than  352  persons  were  convicted, 
at  a  great  expense,  of  forging  small  notes.  In 
1832  the  yearly  losses  of  the  Bank  from  forgeries 
on  the  public  funds  were  upwards  of  ;^4o,ooo. 

It  is  said  that  in  the  large  room  of  the  Bank 
a  quarter  of  a  million  sovereigns  will  sometimes 
change  hands  in  the  course  of  the  day.  The 
entire  amount  of  money  turned  over  on  an  average 
in  the  day  has  been  estimated  as  low  as  ^2^2, 000,000, 
and  as  high  as  ^2,500,000.  At  a  rough  guess, 
the  number  of  persons  who  receive  dividends  on 
the  first  day  of  every  half  year  exceeds  100,000, 
and  the  sum  paid  away  has  been  estimated  at 
;^5oo,ooo. 

The  number  of  clerks  in  the  Bank  of  England 
was  computed,  in  1837,  at  900 ;  the  engravers  and 
bank-note  printers  at  thirty-eight.  The  salaries 
vary  from  ;^7oo  per  annum  to  ;;^75,  and  the 
amount  paid  to  the  servants  of  the  entire  establish- 
ment, about  1,000,  upwards  of  ^^200,000.  Some 
years  ago  the  proprietors  met  four  times  a  year. 
Three  directors  sat  daily  in  the  Bank  parlour.  On 
Wednesday  a  Court  of  Directors  sat  to  decide  on 
London  applications  for  discount,  and  on  Thursdays 
the  whole  court  met  to  consider  all  notes  exceed- 
ing ;!^2,ooo.  The  directors,  twenty-four,  exclusive 
of  the  Governor  and  Deputy-Governor,  decide  by 
majority  all  matters  of  importance. 

The  Bank  of  England  (says  Dodsley's  excellent 


468 


OLD    AND   NEW   LONDON, 


[Bank  of  England. 


and  well-\vritten  "  Guide  to  London,"  1761)  is  a 
noble  edifice  situated  at  the  east  of  St.  Chris- 
topher's Church,  near  the  west  end  of  Thread- 
needle  Street.  The  front  next  the  street  is  about 
80  feet  in  length,  and  is  of  the  Ionic  order,  raised 


which  is  in  this  last  building,  is  79  feet  in  length 
and  40  in  breadth ;  it  is  wainscoted  about  8  teet 
high,  has  a  fine  fretwork  ceiling,  and  is  adorned 
with  a  statue  of  King  William  IIL,  which  stands 
in   a  niche  at  the  upper  end,  on  the  pedestal  of 


THE   CHURCH    Ol<    ST.   BENET    UNK. 


on  a  rustic  basement,  and  is  of  a  good  style. 
Through  this  you  pass  into  the  court-yard,  in  which 
is  the  hall.  This  is  one  of  the  Corinthian  order, 
and  in  the  middle  is  a  pediment.  The  top  of  the 
building  is  adorned  with  a  balustrade  and  hand- 
some vases,  and  in  the  face  of  the  above  pediment 
is  engraved  in  relievo  the  Company's  seal,  Bri- 
tannia sitting  with  her  shield  and  spear,  and  at  her 
feet   a  cornucopia   pouring    out   fruit.     The  hall 


which   is   the   following   inscription    in   Latin — in 

English,  thus  : — 

"  For  restoring  efficiency  to  the  Laws, 

Authority  to  the  Courts  of  Justice, 

Dignity  to  the  Parliament, 

To  all  his  subjects  their  Religion  and  Liberties, 

And  confirming  them  to  Posterity, 

By  the  succession  of  the  Illustrious  House  of  Hanover 

To  the  British  Throne  : 

To  the  best  of  Princes,  William  the  Third, 


J 


Bank  of  England.] 


THE   PARISH   CHURCH   OF  ST.  CHRISTOPHER. 


469 


Founder  of  the  Kank, 

This  Corporation,  from  a  sense  of  Gratitude, 

Has  erected  this  Statue, 

And  dedicated  it  to  his  memoiy, 

In  the  Year  of  our  Lord  MDCCXXXIV., 

And  the  first  year  of  this  Building." 

Further  backward  is  another  quadrangle,  with  an 
arcade  on  the  east  and  west  sides  of  it;  and  on 
the  north  side  is  the  accountant's  office,  which  is 
60  feet  long  and  28  feet  broad.     Over  this,  and  the 


being  copied  from  the  Temple  of  Mars  the  Avenger, 
at  Rome. 

On  the  death  of  Sir  John  Soane,  in  1S37,  Mr. 
Cockerell  was  chosen  to  succeed  him  in  his  im- 
portant position.  The  style  of  this  gentleman,  in 
the  office  he  designed  for  the  payment  of  dividend 
warrants,  now  employed  as  the  private  drawing- 
office,  is  very  different  to  the  erections  of  his  pre- 
decessor. The  taste  which  produced  the  elabo- 
rate and   exquisite  ornaments  in  this  room   is  in 


COURT  OF  THE   BANK   OF   ENGLAND   [see  page  470), 


other  sides  of  the  quadrangle,  are  handsome  apart- 
ments, with  a  fine  staircase  adorned  with  fretwork; 
and  under  are  large  vaults,  that  have  strong  walls 
and  iron  gates,  for  the  preservation  of  the  cash. 
The  back  entrance  from  Bartholomew  Lane  is  by 
a  grand  gateway,  which  opens  into  a  commodious 
and  spacious  courtyard  for  coaches  or  wagons,  that 
frequently  come  loaded  with  gold  and  silver  bullion ; 
and  in  the  room  fronting  the  gate  the  transfer-office 
is  kept. 

The  entablature  rests  on  fluted  Corinthian 
columns,  supporting  statues,  which  indicate  the  four 
quarters  of  the  globe.  The  intercolumniations  are 
ornamented  by  allegories  representing  the  Thames 
and  the  Ganges,  executed  by  Thomas  Banks, 
Academician,  the  roses  on  the  vaulting  of  the  arch 
40 


strong  contrast  to  the  severe  simplicity  of  the  works 
of  Sir  John  Soane. 

Stow,  speaking  of  St.  Christopher's,  the  old 
church  removed  when  the  Bank  was  built,  says, 
"  Towards  the  Stokes  Market  is  the  parish  church 
of  St.  Christopher,  but  re-edified  of  new;  for 
Richard  Shore,  one  of  the  sheriffes,  1506,  gave 
money  towards  the  building  of  the  steeple." 

Richard  at  Lane  was  collated  to  this  living  in 
the  year  1368.  "  Having  seen  and  observed  the 
said  parish  church  of  St.  Christopher,  with  all  the 
grave-stones  and  monuments  therein,  and  finding 
a  faire  tombe  of  touch,  wherein  lyeth  the  body  of 
Robert  Thome,  Merchant  Taylor  and  a  batchelor, 
buried,  having  given  by  his  testament  in  charity 
4,445    pounds    to    pious   uses ;    then  looking  for 


470 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Bank  of  England. 


some  such  memory,  as  might  adome  and  beautifie 
the  name  of  another  famous  batchelor,  Mr.  John 
Kendricke ;  and  found  none,  but  only  his  hatch- 
ments and  banners."  Many  of  the  Houblons  were 
buried  in  this  church. 

"The  court-room  of  the  Bank,"  says  Francis,  "is 
a  noble  apartment,  by  Sir  Robert  Taylor,  of  the 
Composite  order,  about  60  feet  long  and  31  feet 
6  inches  wide,    with  large  Venetian  windows   on 
the  south,  overlooking  that  which  was  formerly  the 
churchyard  of  St.  Christopher.     The  north  side  is 
remarkable  for   three  exquisite  chimney-pieces  of 
statuary  marble,  the  centre   being  the  most  mag- 
nificent.   The  east  and  west  are  distinguished  by 
columns  detached  from  the  walls,  supporting  beau- 
tiful arches,  which  again  support  a  ceiling  rich  with 
ornament.      The  west  leads  by  folding   doors  to 
an  elegant  octagonal  committee -room,  with  a  fine 
marble  chimney-piece.     The  Governor's  room  is 
square,  with  various  paintings,  one  of  which  is  a 
portrait  of  William  IIL  in  armour,  an  intersected 
ceiling,  and  semi-circular  windows.     This  chimney- 
piece  is  also  of  statuary  marble ;  and  on  the  wall 
is  a  fine  painting,  by  Marlow,  of  the  Bank,  Bank 
Buildings,    Cornhill,    and   Royal   Exchange.      An 
ante-room  contains  portraits  of  Mr.  Abraham  New- 
land  and  another  of  the  old  cashiers,  taken  as  a 
testimony  of  the  appreciation  of  the  directors.     In 
the  waiting-room  are  two  busts,  by  Nollekens,  of 
Charles  James  Fox  and  William  Pitt.     The  original 
Rotunda,  by  Sir  Robert  Taylor,  was  roofed  in  witli 
timber;  but  when  a  survey  was  made,  in  1794,  it 
was  found  advisable  to  take  it  down ;  and  in  the 
ensuing  year  the  present  Rotunda  was  built,  under 
the  superintendence  of  Sir  John  Soane.    It  measures 
57  feet  in  diameter  and  about  the  same  in  height 
to  the  lower  part  of  the*  lantern.     It  is  formed  of 
incombustible  materials,  as  are  all  the  offices  erected 
under  the   care  of  Sir  John  Soane.      For  many 
years  this  place  was  a  scene  of  constant  confusion, 
caused  by  the  presence  of  the  stockbrokers   and 
jobbers.      In  1838  this  annoyance  was  abolished, 
the  occupants  were  ejected  from  the  Rotunda,  and 
the  space  employed  in  cashing  the  dividend-warrants 
of  the  fundholders.    The  offices  appropriated  to  the 
management  of  the  various  stocks  are  all  close  to 
or  branch  out  from  the  Rotunda.     The  dividends 
are  paid  in  t\*'0  rooms  devoted   to  that  purpose, 
and   the  transfers  are  kept   separate.      They  are 
arranged  in  books,  under  the  various  letters  of  the 
alphabet,  containing  the  names  of  the  proprietors 
and   the  particulars    of  their   property.     Some  of 
the    stock-offices   were   originally  constructed   by 
Sir  Robert  Taylor,  but  it  has  been  found  necessary 
to  make  great  alterations,  and  most  of  them  are  de- 


signed from  some  classical  model ;  thus  the  Three 
per  Cent.  Consol  office,  which,  however,  was  built 
by  Sir  John  Soane,  is  taken  from  the  ancient 
Roman  baths,  and  is  89  feet  9  inches  in  length 
and  50  feet  in  breadth.  The  chief  cashier's  office, 
an  elegant  and  spacious  apartment,  is  built  after 
the  style  of  the  Temple  of  the  Sun  and  Moon  at 
Rome,  and  measures  45  feet  by  30. 

"  The  fine  court  which  leads  into  Lothbury  pre- 
sents a  magnificent  display  of  Greek  and  Roman 
architecture.  The  buildings  on  the  east  and  west 
sides  are  nearly  hidden  by  open  screens  of  stone, 
consisting  of  a  lofty  entablature,  surmounted  by 
vases,  and  resting  on  columns  of  the  Corinthian 
order,  the  bases  of  which  rest  on  a  double  flight  of 
steps.  This  part  of  the  edifice  was  copied  from  the 
beautiful  temple  of  the  Sybils,  near  Tivoli.  A  noble 
arch,  after  the  model  of  the  triumphal  arch  of  Con- 
stantine,  at  Rome,  forms  the  entrance  into  the 
bullion  yard." 

The  old  Clearing  House  of  182 1  is  thus  de- 
scribed : — "  In  a  large  room  is  a  table,  with  as 
numerous  drawers  as  there  are  City  bankers,  with 
the  name  of  each  banker  on  his  drawer,  having  an 
aperture  to  introduce  the  cheque  upon  him,  whereof 
he  retains  the  key. 

"  A  clerk  going  with  a  charge  of  ^^99,000,  per- 
haps, upon  all  the  other  bankers,  puts  the  cheques 
through  their  respective  apertures  into  their  drawers 
at  three  o'clock.  He  returns  at  four,  unlocks  his 
ovm  drawer,  and  finds  the  others  have  collectively 
put  into  his  drawer  drafts  upon  him  to  the  amount, 
say,  of  ;^ioo,ooo;  consequently  he  has  ;^i,ooo, 
the  difference,  to  pay.  He  searches  for  another, 
who  has  a  larger  balance  to  receive,  and  gives  him 
a  memorandum  for  this  ;^i,ooo;  he,  for  another; 
so  that  it  settles  with  two,  who  frequently,  with  a 
very  few  thousands  in  bank-notes,  settle  millions 
bought  and  sold  daily  in  London,  without  the  im- 
mense repetition  of  receipts  and  payments  that 
would  otherwise  ensue,  or  the  immense  increase  of 
circulating  medium  that  would  be  otherwise  neces- 
sary." 

The  illustration  on  page  475  represents  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  present  Clearing  House.  The 
business  done  at  this  establishment  daily  is  enor- 
mous, amounting  to  something  like  ;j^i5o,ooo,ooo 
each  day. 

"  All  the  sovereigns,"  says  Mr.  Wills,  "  returned 
from  the  banking-houses  are  consigned  to  a  secluded 
cellar;  and,  when  you  enter  it,  you  will  possibly 
fancy  yourself  on  the  premises  of  a  clock-maker 
who  works  by  steam.  Your  attention  is  speedily 
concentrated  on  a  small  brass  box,  not  larger  than 
an  eight-day  pendule,  the  works  of  which  are  im- 


Bank  of  England.] 


BANK  NOTES   AND   BANK   DIVIDENDS. 


471. 


pelled  by  steam.  This  is  a  self-acting  weighing 
machine,  which,  with  unerring  precision,  tells  which 
sovereigns  are  of  standard  weight,  and  which  are 
light,  and  of  its  own  accord  separates  the  one  from 
the  other.  Imagine  a  long  trough  or  spout — half 
a  tube  that  has  been  split  into  two  sections — of 
such  a  semi-circumference  as  holds  sovereigns  edge- 
ways, and  of  sufficient  length  to  allow  of  two  hun- 
dred of  them  to  rest  in  that  position  one  against 
another.  The  trough  thus  charged  is  fixed  slopingly 
upon  the  machine,  over  a  little  table,  as  big  as  the 
plate  of  an  ordinary  sovereign-balance.  The  coin 
nearest  to  the  Lilliputian  platform  drops  upon  it, 
being  pushed  forward  by  the  weight  of  those  behind. 
Its  own  weight  presses  the  table  down ;  but  how 
far  down  ?  Upon  that  hangs  the  whole  merit  and 
discriminating  power  of  the  machine.  At  the  back 
and  on  each  side  of  this  small  table,  two  little 
hammers  move  by  steam  backwards  and  forwards 
at  different  elevations.  If  the  sovereign  be  full 
weight,  down  sinks  the  table  too  low  for  the  higher 
hammer  to  hit  it,  but  the  lower  one  strikes  the  edge, 
and  off  the  sovereign  tumbles  into  a  receiver  to  the 
left.  The  table  pops  up  again,  receiving,  perhaps, 
a  light  sovereign,  and  the  higher  hammer,  having 
always  first  strike,  knocks  it  into  a  receiver  to  the 
right,  time  enough  to  escape  its  colleague,  which, 
when  it  comes  forward,  has  nothing  to  hit,  and 
returns,  to  allow  the  table  to  be  elevated  again. 
In  this  way  the  reputation  of  thirty-three  sovereigns 
is  established  or  destroyed  every  minute.  The  light 
weights  are  taken  to  a  clipping  machine,  slit  at  the 
rate  of  two  hundred  a  minute,  weighed  in  a  lump, 
the  balance  of  deficiency  charged  to  the  banker 
from  whom  they  were  received,  and  sent  to  the 
Mint  to  be  re-coined.  Those  which  have  passed 
muster  are  re-issued  to  the  public.  The  inventor 
of  this  beautiful  little  detector  was  Mr.  Cotton,  a 
former  Governor.  The  comparatively  few  sove- 
reigns brought  in  by  the  general  public  are  weighed 
in  ordinary  scales  by  the  tellers." 

The  Bank  water-mark — or,  more  properly,  the 
wire-mark — is  obtained  by  twisting  wires  to  the 
desired  form  or  design,  and  sticking  them  on  the 
face  of  the  mould;  therefore  the  design  is  above  the 
level  face  of  the  mould  by  the  thickness  of  the  wires 
it  is  composed  of.  Hence  the  pulp,  in  settling  down 
on  the  mould,  must  of  necessity  be  thinner  on  the 
wire  design  than  on  the  other  parts  of  the  sheet. 
When  the  water  has  run  off  through  the  sieve-like 
face  of  the  mould,  the  new-born  sheet  of  paper  is 
"couched,"  the  mould  gently  but  firmly  pressed 
upon  a  blanket,  to  which  the  spongy  sheet  clings. 
Sizing  is  a  subsequent  process,  and,  when  dry,  the 
water-mark  is  plainly  discernible,  being,  of  course, 


transparent  where  the  substance  is  thinnest.  The 
paper  is  then  dried,  and  made  up  into  reams  of 
500  sheets  each,  ready  for  press.  The  water-mark 
in  the  notes  of  the  Bank  of  England  is  secured  to 
that  establishment  by  virtue  of  a  special  Act  of 
Parliament.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  inform 
the  reader  that  imitation  of  anything  whatever  con- 
nected with  a  bank-note  is  an  extremely  unsafe 
experiment. 

This  curious  sort  of  paper  is  unique.  There  is 
nothing  like  it  in  the  world  of  sheets.  Tested  by 
the  touch,  it  gives  out  a  crisp,  crackling,  sharp 
music,  which  resounds  from  no  other  quires.  To 
the  eye  it  shows  a  colour  belonging  neither  to  blue- 
wove,  nor  yellow-wove,  nor  cream-laid,  but  a  white, 
like  no  other  white,  either  in  paper  and  pulp.  The 
three  rough  fringy  edges  are  called  the  "deckelled" 
edges,  being  the  natural  boundary  of  the  pulp  when 
first  moulded ;  the  fourth  is  left  smooth  by  the 
knife,  which  eventually  cuts  the  two  notes  in  twain. 
This  paper  is  so  thin  that,  when  printed,  there  is 
much  difficulty  in  making  erasures ;  yet  it  is  so 
strong,  that  "a  water-leaf"  (a  leaf  before  the  appli- 
cation of  size)  will  support  thirty-six  pounds,  and, 
with  the  addition  of  one  grain  of  size,  will  hold 
half  a  hundredweight,  without  tearing.  Yet  the 
quantity  of  fibre  of  which  it  consists  is  no  more  than 
eighteen  grains  and  a  half. 

Dividend  day  at  the  Bank  has  been  admirably 
described,  in  the  wittiest  manner,  by  a  modern 
essayist  va  Household  Words: — "Another  public 
creditor,"  says  the  writer,  "  appears  in  the  shape 
of  a  drover,  with  a  goad,  who  has  nm  in  to 
present  his  claim  during  his  short  visit  from 
Essex.  Near  him  are  a  lime-coloured  labourer, 
from  some  wharf  at  Bankside,  and  a  painter  who 
has  left  his  scaffolding  in  the  neighbourhood  during 
his  dinner  hour.  Next  come  several  widows — some 
florid,  stout,  and  young;  some  lean,  yellow,  and 
careworn,  followed  by  a  gay-looking  lady,  in  a 
showy  dress,  who  may  have  obtained  her  share  of 
the  national  debt  in  another  way.  An  old  man, 
attired  in  a  stained,  rusty,  black  suit,  crawls  in, 
supported  by  a  long  staff,  like  a  weary  pilgrim 
who  has  at  last  reached  the  golden  Mecca.  Those 
who  are  drawing  money  from  the  accumulation  of 
their  hard  industry,  or  their  patient  self-denial,  can 
be  distinguished  at  a  glance  from  those  who  are 
receiving  the  proceeds  of  unexpected  and  unearned 
legacies.  The  first  have  a  faded,  anxious,  almost 
disappointed  look,  while  the  second  are  sprightly, 
laughing,  and  observant  of  their  companions. 

"  Towards  the  hour  of  noon,  on  the  first  day  of 
the  quarterly  payment,  the  crowd  of  national  credi- 
tors becomes  more  dense,  and  is  mixed  up  with  sub- 


472 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Bank  of  England. 


stantial  capitalists  in  high  check  neckties,  double- 
breasted  waistcoats,  curly-rimmed  hats,  narrow 
trousers,  and  round-toed  boots.  Parties  of  thin, 
limp,  damp-smelling  women,  come  in  with  mouldy 
umbrellas  and  long,  chimney-cowl-shaped  bonnets, 
made  of  greasy  black  silk,  or  threadbare  black 
velvet — the  worn-out  fashions  of  a  past  generation. 
Some  go  about  their  business  in  confidential  pairs ; 
some  in  company  mth  a  trusted  maid-servant  as 
fossilised. as  themselves  ;  some  under  the  guidance 


the  Rotunda,  where  there  are  two  high-backed 
leathern  chairs,  behind  the  shelter  of  which,  with 
a  needle  and  thread,  they  stitch  the  money  into 
some  secret  part  of  their  antiquated  garments.  The 
two  private  detective  ofiicers  on  duty  generally 
watch  these  careful  proceedings  witli  amusement 
and  interest,  and  are  looked  upon  by  the  old  fund- 
holders  and  annuitants  as  highly  dangerous  and 
suspicious  characters." 
Among  the  curiosities  shown  to  visitors  are  the 


JONATHAN'S."    From  an  Old  Sketch. 


of  eager,  ancient-looking  girl-children;  while  some 
stand  alone  in  corners,  auspicious  of  help  or  obser- 
vation. One  national  creditor  is  unwilling,  not 
only  that  the  visitors  shall  know  what  amount  her 
country  owes  her,  but  also  what  particular  funds 
she  holds  as  security.  She  stands  carelessly  in  the 
centre  of  the  Warrant  Office,  privately  scanning  the 
letters  and  figures  nailed  all  round  the  walls,  which 
direct  the  applicant  at  what  desk  to  apply ;  her 
long  tunnel  of  a  bonnet,  while  it  conceals  her  face, 
moves  with  the  guarded  action  of  her  head,  like 
the  tube  of  a  telescope  when  the  astronomer  is 
searching  for  a  lost  planet.  Some  of  these  timid 
female  creditors,  when  their  little  claim  has  been 
satisfied  (for  ;^i,ooo  in  the  Consols  only  pro- 
duces J^i  105.  a  (j^uarter),  retire  to  an  archway  in 


Bank  parlour,  the  counting-room,  and  the  printing- 
room;  the  albums  containing  original  ;^i,ooo 
notes,  signed  by  various  illustrious  persons ;  and 
the  Bank-note  library,  now  containing  ninety  mil- 
lion notes  that  have  been  cancelled  during  the  last 
seven  years.  There  is  one  note  for  a  million  ster- 
ling, and  a  note  for  ;^25  that  had  been  out  iii 
years. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  century,  when  "the 
Green  Man,"  "  the  Lady  in  Black,"  and  other  oddi- 
ties notorious  for  some  peculiarity  of  dress,  were 
well  known  in  the  City,  the  "White  Lady  of 
Threadneedle  Street"  was  a  daily  visitor  to  the 
Bank  of  England.  She  was,  it  is  said,  the  sister 
of  a  poor  young  clerk  who  had  forged  the  signa- 
ture to  a  transfer-warrant,  and  who  was  hung  in 


Stock  Exchange.  ] 


CHANGE  ALLEY. 


473 


1809.  She  had  been  a  needle-worker  for  an  army 
contractor,  and  lived  with  her  brother  and  an  old 
aunt  in  Windmill  Street,  Finsbury,  Her  mind  be- 
came aflfected  at  her  brother's  disgraceful  death, 
and  every  day  after,  at  noon,  she  used  to  cross  the 
Rotunda  to  the  pay-counter.      Her  one  unvarying 


question  was,  "  Is  my  brother,  Mr.  Frederick,  here 
to-day  ?  "  The  invariable  answer  was,  "  No,  miss, 
not  to-day."  She  seldom  remained  above  five 
minutes,  and  her  last  words  always  were,  "Give 
my  love  to  him  when  he  returns.  I  will  call  to- 
morrow." 


CHAPTER  XLI. 
THE  STOCK  EXCHANGE. 

The  Kingdom  of  Change  Alley — A  William  HI.  Router — Stock  Exchange  Tricks — Bulls  and  Bears— Thomas  Guy,  the  Hospital  Founder— Sir 
John  Barnard,  the  "Great  Commoner" — Sampson  Gideon,  the  famous  Jew  Broker — Alexander  Fordyce — A  cruel  Quaker  Criticism — Stock- 
brokers and  Longevity — The  Stock  Exchange  in  1795 — The  Money  Articles  in  the  London  Papers — The  Case  of  Benjamin  Walsh,  M.P. — 
The  De  Berenger  Conspiracy — Lord  Cochrane  unjustly  accused — "'Ticket  Pocketing" — System  of  Business  at  the  Stock  Exchange — 
"  Popgun  John  " — Nathan  Rothschild — Secrecy  of  his  Operations — Rothschild  outdone  by  Stratagem — Grotesque  Sketch  of  Rothschild — 
Abraham  Goldsmid — Vicissitudes  of  the  Stock  Exchange — The  Spanish  Panic  of  1835 — The  Railway  Mania — Ricardo's  Golden  Rules — A 
Clerical  Intruder  in  Capel  Court — Amusements  of  Stockbrokers — Laws  of  the  Stock  Exchange— The  Pigeon  Express — The  "  Alley  Man  " — 
Purchase  of  Stock — Eminent  Members  of  the  Stock  Exchange. 


The  Royal  Exchange,  in  the  reign  of  William  III., 
being  found  vexatiously  thronged,  the  money- 
dealers,  in  1698,  betook  themselves  to  Change  Alley, 
then  an  unappropriated  area.  A  writer  of  the 
period  says : — "  The  centre  of  jobbing  is  in  the 
kingdom  of  'Change  Alley.  You  may  go  over  its 
limits  in  about  a  minute  and  a  half.  Stepping  out 
of  Jonathan's  into  the  Alley,  you  turn  your  face  full 
south  ;  moving  on  a  few  paces,  and  then  turning  to 
the  east,  you  advance  to  Garraway's  ;  from  thence, 
going  out  at  the  other  door,  you  go  on,  still  east, 
into  Birchin  Lane ;  and  then,  halting  at  the  Sword- 
blade  Bank,  you  immediately  face  to  the  north, 
enter  Cornhill,  visit  two  or  three  petty  provinces 
there  on  your  way  to  the  west ;  and  thus,  having 
boxed  your  compass,  and  sailed  round  the  stock- 
jobbing globe,  you  turn  into  Jonathan's  again." 

Sir  Henry  Furnese,  a  Bank  director,  was  the 
Renter  of  those  times.  He  paid  for  constant 
despatches  from  Holland,  Flanders,  France,  and 
Germany.  His  early  intelligence  of  every  battle, 
and  especially  of  the  fall  of  Namur,  swelled  his 
profits  amazingly.  King  William  gave  him  a 
diamond  ring  as  a  reward  for  early  information ; 
yet  he  condescended  to  fabricate  news,  and  his 
plans  for  influencing  the  funds  were  probably  the 
types  of  similar  modern  tricks.  If  Furnese  wished 
to  buy,  his  brokers  looked  gloomy  ;  and,  the  alarm 
spread,  completed  their  bargains.  In  this  manner 
prices  were  lowered  four  or  five  per  cent,  in  a  few 
hours.  The  Jew  Medina,  we  are  assured,  granted 
Marlborough  an  annuity  of  ;^6,ooo  for  permission 
to  attend  his  campaigns,  and  amply  repaid  himself 
by  the  use  of  the  early  intelligence  he  obtained. 

When,  in  17 15,  says  "Aleph,"  the  Pretender 
landed  in  Scotland,  after  the  dispersion  of  his  forces, 
a  carriage  and  six  was  seen  in  the  road  near  Perth, 


apparently  destined  for  London.  Letters  reached 
the  metropolis  announcing  the  capture  of  the  dis- 
comfited Stuart ;  the  funds  rose,  and  a  large  profit 
was  realised  by  the  trick.  Stock-jobbers  must  have 
been  highly  prosperous  at  that  period,  as  a  Quaker, 
named  Quare,  a  watchmaker  of  celebrity,  who  had 
made  a  large  fortune  by  money  speculations,  had 
for  his  guests  at  his  daughter's  wedding-feast  the 
famous  Duchess  of  Marlborough  and  the  Princess 
of  Wales,  who  attended  with  300  quality  visitors. 

During  the  struggle  between  the  old  and  new 
East  India  Companies,  boroughs  were  sold  openly 
in  the  Alley  to  their  respective  partisans ;  and  in 
1720  Parliamentary  seats  came  to  market  there  as 
commonly  as  lottery  tickets.  Towards  the  close  of 
Anne's  reign,  a  well-dressed  horseman  rode  furiously 
down  the  Queen's  Road,  loudly  proclaiming  her 
Majesty's  demise.  The  hoax  answered,  the  funds 
falling  with  ominous  alacrity;  but  it  was  observed, 
that  while  the  Christian  jobbers  kept  aloof,  Sir 
Manasseh  Lopez  and  the  Hebrew  brokers  bought 
readily  at  the  reduced  rate. 

The  following  extracts  from  Gibber's  play  of  T/ia 
Refusal;  or,  the  Ladies'  Philosophy,  produced  in 
1720,  show  the  antiquity  of  the  terms  "bull"  and 
"  bear."  This  comedy  abounds  in  allusions  to  the 
doings  in  'Change  Alley,  and  one  of  the  characters, 
Sir  Gilbert  Wrangle,  is  a  South  Sea  director  : — 

Granger  (to  Witling,  who  has  beett  boasting  of  his  gain) : 
And  all  this  out  of  'Change  Alley  ? 

Witling :  Every  shilling,  sir ;  all  out  of  stocks,  puts,  bulls, 
shams,  bears  and  bubbles. 

And  again : — 

There  (in  the  Alley)  you'll  see  a  duke  dangling  after  a 
director  ;  here  a  peer  and  a  'prentice  haggling  for  an  eighth ; 
there  a  Jew  and  a  parson  making  up  differences;  there  a 
young  woman  of  quality  buying  bears  of  a  Quaker ;  and  there 
an  old  one  selling  refusals  to  a  lieutenant  of  grenadiers. 


474 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Stock  Exchange. 


The  following  is  from  an  old  paper,  dated  July 
15th,  1773:  "Yesterday  the  brokers  and  others 
at  '  New  Jonathan's '  came  to  a  resolution,  that 
instead  of  its  being  called  '  New  Jonathan's,'  it 
should  be  called  *  The  Stock  Exchange,'  which  is 
to   be   wrote   over  the  door.     The  brokers  then 


to  excellent  account,  and  soon  led  him  to  a  far 
more  profitable  traffic  in  those  tickets  with  which, 
from  the  time  of  Charles  IL,  our  seamen  were  re- 
munerated. They  were  paid  in  paper,  not  readily 
convertible,  and  were  forced  to  part  with  their 
wages  at  any  discount  which  it  pleased  the  raouey- 


CATEL   COURT. 


collected  six})ence  each,  and  christened  the  House 
wiih  punch." 

One  of  the  great  stockbrokers  of  Queen  Anne's 
reign  was  Thomas  Guy,  the  founder  of  one  of  the 
noblest  hospitals  in  the  world,  who  died  in  1724. 
He  was  the  son  of  a  lighterman,  and  for  many 
years  stood  behind  a  counter  and  sold  books. 
Acquiring  a  small  amount  of  ready  cash,  he  was 
tempted  to  employ  it  in  Change  Alley ;  it  turned 


lenders  to  fix.  Guy  made  large  purdiases  in  these 
tickets  at  an  immense  reduction,  and  by  such  not 
very  creditable  means,  with  some  windfalls  during 
the  South  Sea  agitation,  he  realised  a  fortune  of 
;^5oo,ooo.  Half  a  million  was  then  almost  a 
fabulous  sum,  and  it  was  constantly  increasing, 
owing  to  his  penurious  habits.  He  died  at  the 
age  of  eighty-one,  leaving  by  will  ^^240,000  to  the 
hospital  which  bears  his  name.     Hi.s  body  lay  in 


Stock  Exchange.] 


STOCK  EXCHANGE  CELEBRITIES. 


475 


state  at  Mercers'  Chapel,  and  was  interred  in  the 
asylum  he  raised,  where,  ten  years  after  his  death, 
a  statue  was  erected  to  his  memory. 

Sir  John  Barnard,  a  great  opponent  of  stock- 
brokers, proposed,  in  1737,  to  reduce  the  interest 
on  the  National  Debt  from  four  to  three  per  cent., 
the  public  being  at  liberty  to  receive  their  principal 


monly  denominated  the  "  great  commoner."  Of 
the  stock-jobbers  he  always  spoke  with  supreme 
contempt ;  in  return,  they  hated  him  most  cordially. 
On  the  money  market  it  was  not  unusual  to  hear 
the  merchants  inquire,  "What  does  Sir  John  say 
to  this?  "What  is  Sir  John's  opinion?"  He  re- 
fused the  post  of  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  in 


THE  CLEARING   HOUSE. 


in  full  if  they  preferred.  This  anticipation  of  a 
modern  financial  change  was  not  adopted.  At  this 
period,  ;2{^i 0,000,000  were  held  by  foreigners  in 
British  funds.  In  1750,  the  reduction  from  four 
to  three  per  cent,  interest  on  the  funded  debt  was 
effected,  and  though  much  clamour  followed,  no 
reasonable  ground  for  complaint  was  alleged,  as 
the  measure  was  very  cautiously  carried  out.  Sir 
John  Barnard,  the  Peel  of  a  bygone  age,  was  com- 


1746,  and  from  the  moment  his  statue  was  set  up 
in  Gresham's  Exchange  he  would  never  enter. the 
building,  but  carried  on  his  monetary  affairs  out- 
side. The  Barnard  blood  still  warms  the  veins  of 
some  of  our  wealthiest  commercial  magnates,  since 
his  son  married  the  daughter  of  a  capitalist,  known  in 
the  City  as  "  the  great  banker.  Sir  John  Hankey." 

Sampson  Gideon,  the  famous  Jew  broker,  died 
in   1762.      Some  of  his  shrewd  sayings  are   pre- 


476 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Stock  Exchange. 


'  served.  Take  a  specimen  :  "  Never  grant  a  life 
annuity  to  an  old  woman;  they  wither,  but  they 
never  die."  If  the  proposed  annuitant  coughed, 
Gideon  called  out,  "  Ay,  ay,  you  may  cough,  but 
it  shan't  save  you  six  months'  purchase  ! "  In  one 
of  his  dealings  with  Snow,  a  banker  alluded  to  by 
Dean  Swift,  Snow  lent  Gideon  ;^2o,ooo.  The 
"Forty-five"  followed,  and  the  banker  forwarded 
a  whining  epistle  to  him  speaking  of  stoppage, 
bankruptcy,  and  concluding  the  letter  with  a  pas- 
sionate request  for  his  money.  Gideon  procured 
21,000  bank-notes,  rolled  them  round  a  phial  of 
hartshorn,  and  thus  mockingly  repaid  the  loan. 
Gideon's  fortune  was  made  by  the  advance  of  the 
rebels  towards  London.  Stocks  fell  aAvfuUy,  but 
hastening  to  "Jonathan's,"  he  bought  all  in  the 
market,  spending  all  his  cash,  and  pledging  his 
name  for  more.  The  Pretender  retreated,  and  the 
sagacious  Hebrew  became  a  millionaire.  Mr. 
Gideon  had  a  sovereign  contempt  for  fine  clothes  ; 
an  essayist  of  the  day  writes,  "  Neither  Guy  nor 
Gideon  ever  regarded  dress."  He  educated  his 
children  in  the  Christian  faith;  "but,"  said  he, 
"  I'm  too  old  to  change."  "  Gideon  is  dead,"  says 
one  of  his  biographers,  "worth  more  than  the  whole 
land  of  Canaan.  He  has  left  the  reversion  of  all 
his  milk  and  honey — after  his  son  and  daughter, 
and  their  children — to  the  Duke  of  Devonshire, 
without  insisting  on  his  assuming  his  name,  or  being 
circumcised  ! "  His  views  must  have  been  liberal, 
for  he  left  a  legacy  of  ;!^2,ooo  to  the  Sons  of  the 
Clergy,  and  of  ^1,000  to  the  London  Hospital. 
He  also  gave  ;^i,ooo  to  the  synagogue,  on  con- 
dition of  having  his  remains  interred  in  the  Jewish 
burying-place. 

In  1772,  the  occurrence  of  some  Scotch  failures 
led  to  a  Change-Alley  panic,  and  the  downfall  of 
Alexander  Fordyce,  who,  for  years,  ihad  ,been  the 
most  thriving  jobber  in  London.  He  was  a  hosier 
in  Aberdeen,  but  came  to  London  to  improve 
his  fortunes.  The  money  game  was  in  his  favour. 
He  was  soon  able  to  purchase  a  large  estate.  He 
built  a  church  at  his  private  cost,  and  spent 
thousands  in  trying  to  obtain  a  seat  in  Parliament. 
Marrying  a  lady  of  title,  on  whom  he  made  a 
liberal  settlement,  he  bought  several  Scotch  laird- 
ships,  endowed  an  hospital,  and  founded  several 
charities.  But  the  lease  of  his  property  was  short. 
His  speculations  suddenly  grew  desperate;  hope- 
less ruin  ensued ;  and  a  great  number  of  capitalists 
were  involved  in  his  fall.  The  consternation  was 
extreme,  nor  can  we  wonder,  since  his  bills,  to  the 
amount  of  ;£'4,ooo,ooo,  were  in  circulation.  He 
earnestly  sought,  but  in  vain,  for  pecuniary  aid. 
The  Bank  refused  it,  and  when  he  applied  for  help 


to  a  wealthy  Quaker,  "Friend  Fordyce,"  was  the 
answer,  "  I  have  known  many  men  ruined  by  two 
dice,  but  I  will  not  be  ruined,  by  Four-dice." 

In  1785,  a  stockbroker,  named  Atkinson,  pro- 
bably from  the  "  North  Countree,"  speculated  enor- 
mously, but  skilfully,  we  must  suppose, .  for  he 
reahsed  a  fortune  of  ;,^5oo,ooo.  His  habits  were 
eccentric.  At  a  friend's  dinner  party  he  abruptly 
turned  to  a  lady  who  occupied  the  next  chair, 
saying,  "  If  you,  madam,  Avill  entrust  me  with 
;!^i,ooo  for  three  years,  I  will  employ  it  advan- 
tageously." The  speaker  was  well  known,  and  his 
offer  accepted  ;  and  at  the  end  of  the  three  years, 
to  the  very  day,  Atkinson  called  on  the  lady  with 
^10,000,  to  which,  by  his  adroit  management,  her 
deposit  had  increased. 

In  general  (says  "Aleph,"  in  the  City  Press),  a 
stock-jobber's  pursuits  tend  to  shorten  life  ;  violent 
excitement,  and  the  constant  alternation  of  hope 
and  fear,  wear  out  the  brain,  and  soon  lead  to 
disease  or  death.  Yet  instances  of  great  longevity 
occur  in  this  class  :  John  Rive,  after  many  active 
years  in  the  Alley,  retired  to  the  Continent,  and 
died  at  the  age  of  118. 

The  author  of  "  The  Bank  Mirror"  (circa  1795) 
gives  a  graphic  description  of  the  Stock  Ex- 
change of  that  period.  "  The  scene  opens,"  he 
says,  "about  twelve,  with  the  call  of  the  prices 
of  stock,  the  shouting  out  of  names,  the  recital 
of  news,  &c.,  much  in  the  following  manner: — 
'A  mail  come  in — What  news?  what  news? — 
Steady,  steady — Consols  for  to-morrow — Here, 
Consols  ! — You  old  Timber-toe,  have  you  got  any 
scrip  ? — Private  advices  from — A  wicked  old  peer 
in  disguise  sold — What  do  you  do  ? — Here,  Consols ! 
Consols  ! — Letters  from — A  great  house  has  stopt — 
Payment  of  the  Five  per  Cents  commences — Across 
the  Rhine — The  Austrians  routed — The  French 
pursuing ! — Four  per  Cents  for  the  opening ! — Four 
per  Cents — Sir  Sydney  Smith  exchanged  for — Short 
Annuities — Shorts  !  Shorts  !  Shorts ! — A  messenger 
extraordinary  sent  to — Gibraltar  fortifying  against — 
A  Spanish  fleet  seen  in — Reduced  Annuities  for  to- 
morrow— I'm  a  seller  of — Lame  ducks  waddling — 
Under  a  cloud  hanging  over — The  Cape  of  Good 
Hope  retaken  by — Lottery  tickets  ! — Here,  tickets  ! 
tickets  !  tickets  ! — The  Archduke  Charles  of  Austria 
fled  into — India  Stock! — Clear  the  way,  there, 
Moses  ! — Reduced  Annuities  for  money  ! — I'm  a 
buyer  —  Reduced  !  Reduced  !  {Rattles  spring) 
What  a  d — d  noise  you  make  there  with  the  rattles  ! 
— Five  per  Cents  ! — I'm  a  seller  ! — Five  per  Cents  ! 
Five  per  Cents  ! — The  French  in  full  march  for — 
The  Pope  on  his  knees — following  the  direction  of 
his  native  meekness  into — Consols  !   Consols  ! — 


Stock  Exchange.] 


STOCK-EXeHANGE  ANECDOTES. 


477 


Smoke  the  old  girl  in  silk  shoes  there  !    Madam, 
do  you  want  a  broker? — Four  per  Cents — The  Dutch 
fleet  skulked  into — Short  Annuities  ! — The  French 
army  retreating  ! — The  Austrians  pursuing  ! — Con- 
sols !  Consols  !  Bravo  ! — Who's  afraid  ? — Up  they 
go  !  up  they  go  ! — '  De  Empress  de  Russia  dead  !' 
— You  lie,  Mordecai !     I'll  stuff  your  mouth  with 
pork,  you  dog ! — Long  Annuities  !  Long  Annuities  ! 
Knock  that  fellow's  hat  off,  there  ! — He'll  waddle, 
to-morrow — Here,  Long  Annuities  !    Short  Annui- 
ties ! — Longs  and  Shorts  ! — The  Prince  of  Conde 
fled  ! — Consols  ! — The  French  bombarding  Frank- 
fort ! — Reduced  Annuities — Down  they  go !  down 
they  go ! — You,  Levi,  you're  a  thief,   and  I'm  a 
gentleman — Step   to  Garraway's,   and   bid    Isaacs 
come  here — Bank  Stock  ! — Consols  ! — Give  me  thy 
hand,   Solomon ! — Didst  thou  not  hear  the  guns 
fire  ? — Noble  news  !  great  news  ! — Here,  Consols  ! 
St.    Lucia   taken! — St.   Vincent   taken! — French 
fleets     blocked   up !    English   fleets    triumphant ! 
Bravo  !     Up  we  go  !   up,  up,  up  ! — Imperial  An- 
nuities !    Imperial  !    Imperial  ! — Get   out  of    my 
sunshine,    Moses,    you    d — d    litde    Israelite  ! — 
Consols !   Consols !   &c.'     .     .     ,     The  noise  of 
the  screech-owl,  the  howling  of  the  wolf,  the  bark- 
ing of  the  mastiff,   the  grunting   of  the  hog,  the 
braying  of  the  ass,  the  nocturnal  wooing  of  the  cat, 
the  hissing  of  the  snake,  the  croaking  of  toads, 
frogs,  and  grasshoppers — all  these  in  unison  could 
not  be  more  hideous  than  the  noise  which  these 
beings   make    in   the   Stock   Exchange.      And  as 
several  of  them  get  into  the  Bank,  the  beadles  are 
provided  with  rattles,  which  they  occasionally  spring, 
to  drown  their  noise  and  give  the  fair  purchaser  or 
seller  room  and  opportunity  to  transact  their  busi- 
ness ;  for  that  part  of  the  Rotunda  to  which  the 
avenue  from  Bartholomew  Lane  leads  is  often  so 
crowded  with  them  that  people  cannot  enter." 

About  1799,  the  shares  of  this  old  Stock  Ex- 
change having  fallen  into  few  hands,  they  boldly 
attempted,  instead  of  a  sixpenny  diurnal  admission 
to  every  person  presenting  himself  at  the  bar,  to 
make  it  a  close  subscription-room  of  ten  guineas 
per  annum  for  each  member,  and  thereby  to  shut 
out  all  petty  or  irregular  traffickers,  to  increase  the 
revenues  of  this  their  monopoHsed  market.  A 
violent  democracy  revolted  at  this  imposition  and 
invasion  of  the  rights,  privileges,  and  immunities  of 
a  public  market  for  the  public  stock.  They  pro- 
posed to  raise  263  shares  of  ;^5o  each,  creating  a 
fund  of  ^13,150  wherewith  to  build  a  new,  unin- 
fluenced, unaristocraticised,  free,  open  market. 
Those  shares  were  never,  as  in  the  old  conventicle, 
to  condense  into  a  few  hands,  for  fear  of  a  dread 
aristocracy  returning.    Mendoza's  boxing-room,  the 


debating-forum  up  Capel  Court,  and  buildings  con- 
tiguous with  the  freehold  site,  were  purchased,  and 
the  foundation-stone  was  laid  for  this  temple,  to  be, 
when  completed,  consecrated  to  free,  open  traffic. 

In  1805  Ambrose  Charles,  a  Bank  clerk,  pub- 
licly charged  the  Earl  of  Moira,  a  cabinet  minister, 
with  using  official  intelligence  to  aid  him  in  specu- 
lating in  the  funds.  The  Premier  was  compelled 
to  investigate  the  charge,  but  no  truthful  evidence 
could  be  adduced,  and  the  falsehood  of  his  alle- 
gations was  made  apparent. 

Mark  Sprat,  a  remarkable  speculator,  died  in  1808. 
He  came  to  London  with  small  means,  but  getting 
an  introduction  to  the  Stock  Exchange,  was  wonder- 
fully successful.  In  1799  he  contracted  for  the 
Lottery;  and  in  1800  and  the  three  following  years 
he  was  foremost  among  those  who  contracted  for  the 
loans.  During  Lord  Melville's  trial,  he  was  asked 
whether  he  did  not  act  as  banker  for  members  of 
both  houses.  "I  never  do  business  with  privi- 
leged persons !"  was  his  reply,  which  might  have 
referred  to  the  following  fact : — A  broker  came 
to  Sprat  in  great  distress.  He  had  acted  largely 
for  a  principal  who,  the  prices  going  against  him, 
refused  to  make  up  his  losses.  "Who  was  the 
scoundrel  ?"  "  A  nobleman  of  immense  property." 
Sprat  volunteered  to  go  with  him  to  his  dishonest 
debtor.  The  great  man  coolly  answered,  it  was 
not  convenient  to  pay.  The  broker  declared  that 
unless  the  account  was  settled  by  a  fixed  hour  next 
day,  his  lordship  would  be  posted  as  a  defaulter. 
Long  before  the  time  appointed  the  matter  was 
arranged,  and  Sprat's  friend  rescued  from  ruin. 

The  history  of  the  money  articles  in  the  London 
papers  is  thus  given  by  the  author  of  "  The  City." 
In  1809  and  1810  (says  the  writer),  the  papers 
had  commenced  regularly  to  publish  the  prices  of 
Consols  and  the  other  securities  then  in  the  market, 
but  the  list  was  merely  furnished  by  a  stockbroker, 
who  was  allowed,  as  a  privilege  for  his  services,  to 
append  his  name  and  address,  thereby  receiving 
the  advantages  of  an  advertisement  without  having 
to  pay  for  it.  A  further  improvement  was  effected 
by  inserting  small  paragraphs,  giving  an  outline  of 
events  occurring  in  relation  to  City  matters,  but 
these  occupied  no  acknowledged  position,  and 
only  existed  as  ordinary  intelligence.  However, 
from  181  o  up  to  18 17,  considerable  changes  took 
place  in  the  arrangements  of  the  several  daily 
journals  ;  and  a  new  era  almost  commenced  in  City 
life  with  the  numerous  companies  started  on  the 
joint-stock  principle  at  the  more  advanced  period, 
and  then  it  was  that  this  department  appears  to 
have  received  serious  attention  from  the  heads  of 
the  leading  journals. 


478 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Stock  Exchange. 


The  description  of  matter  comprised  in  City 
articles  has  not  been  known  in  its  present  form 
more  than  fifty  years.  There  seems  a  doubt 
whether  they  first  originated  with  the  Times  or  the 
Herald.  Opinion  is  by  some  parties  given  m 
favour  of  the  last-mentioned  paper.  Whichever 
establishment  may  be  entitled  to  the  praise  for 
commencing  so  useful  a  compendium  of  City  news, 
one  thing  appears  very  certain— viz.,  that  no  sooner 
was  it  adopted  by  the  one  paper,  than  the  other 
followed  closely  in  the  line  chalked  out.  The 
regular  City  article  appears  only  to  have  had  exist- 
ence since  1824-25,  when  the  first  effect  of  that 
over-speculating  period  was  felt  in  the  msolvency 
of  public  companies,  and  the  breakage  of  banks. 
Contributions  of  this  description  had  been  made 
and  published,  as  already  noticed,  in  separate  para- 
graphs throughout  the  papers  as  early  as  181 1  and 
1812  ;  but  these  took  no  very  prominent  position 
till  the  more  important  period  of  the  close  of  the 
war,  and  the  declaration  of  peace  with  Europe. 

In  181 1,  the  case  of  Benjamin  Walsh,  M.P.,  a 
member  of  the  Stock  Exchange,  occasioned  a  pro- 
digious sensation.     Sir  Thomas  Plomer  employed 
him  as  his  broker,  and,  buying  an  estate,  found  it 
necessary  to  sell  stock.     Walsh  advised  him  not  to 
sell  directly,  as  the  funds  were  rising ;  the  deeds 
were  not  prepared,  and  the  advice  was  accepted. 
Soon  after,  Walsh  said  the  time  to  sell  was  come, 
for  the  funds  would    quickly   fall.      The   money 
being  realised,  Walsh  recommended  the  purchase 
of  exchequer  bills  as  a  good  investment.     Till  the 
cash  was  wanted,  Sir  Thomas  gave  a  cheque  for 
;^2  2,000  to  Walsh,  who  undertook  to  lodge  the 
notes  at  Gosling's.     In  the  evening  he  brought  an 
acknowledgment  for  ;^6,ooo,  promising  to  make 
up  the  amount  next  day.     Sir  Thomas  called  at  his 
bankers,  and  found  that  a  cheque  for  ;^i  6,000  had 
been  sent,  but  too  late  for  presentation,  and  in  the 
morning  the  cheque  was  refused.     In  fact,  Walsh 
had  disposed  of  the  whole  ;  giving  ^1,000  to  his 
broker,  purchasing  ;^i  1,000  of  American  stock,  and 
buying  ;^5,ooo  worth   of  Portuguese   doubloons. 
He  was  tried  and  declared  guilty;  but  certain  legal 
difficulties   were  interposed;    the   judges   gave    a 
favourable  decision  ;   he  was  released  from  New- 
gate, and  formally  expelled    from  the  House  of 
Commons.     Such  crimes  seem  almost  incredible, 
for  such  culprits  can  have  no  chance  of  escape ; 
as,  even  when  the  verdict  of  a  jury  is  favourable, 
their  character  and  position  must  be  absolutely  and 
hopelessly  lost. 

In  these  comparatively  steady-going  times,  the 
funds  often  remain  for  months  with  little  or  no 
variation  ;  but  during  the  last  years  of  the  French 


war,  a  difference  of  eight  or  even  ten  per  cent,  might 
happen  in  an  hour,  and  scripholders  might  realise 
eighteen  or  twenty  per  cent,  by  the  change  in  the 
loans  they  so  eageriy  sought.  From  what  a  fearful 
load  of  ever-increasing  expenditure  the  nation  was 
relieved  by  the  peace  resulting  from  the  battle  of 
Waterioo,  may  be  judged  from  the  fact  that  the 
decrease  of  Government  charges  was  at  once  de- 
clared to  exceed  ;j^2, 000,000  per  month. 

One  of  the  most  extraordinary  Stock  Exchange 
conspiracies  ever  devised  was  that  carried  out  by 
De  Berenger  and  Cochrane  Johnstone  in  18 14.    It 
was  a  time  when  Bonaparte's  military  operations 
against  the  allies  had  depressed   the  funds,  and 
great  national  anxiety  prevailed.     The  conspiracy 
was  dramatically  carried  out.      On  the   21st  of 
February,  1824,  about  one  a.m.,  a  violent  knocking 
was  heard  at  the  door  of  the  "  Ship  Inn,"  then  the 
principal  hotel  of  Dover.      On  the  door  being 
opened,    a  person  in  richly  embroidered  scariet 
uniform,  wet   with   spray,   announced   himself  as 
Lieutenant-Colonel    De    Bourg,    aide-de-camp  of 
Lord  Cathcart.     He  had  a  star  and  silver  medals 
on  his  breast,  and  wore  a  dark  fur  travelling  cap, 
banded  with  gold.     He  said  he  had  been  brought 
over  by  a  French  vessel  from  Calais,  the  master  of 
which,  afraid  of  touching  at  Dover,  had  landed  him 
about  two  miles  off,  along  the  coast.     He  was  the 
bearer  of  important  news— the  allies  had  gamed 
a  great  victory  and  had  entered  Paris.     Bonaparte 
had  been  overtaken  by  a  detachment  of  Sachen's 
Cossacks,   who  had   slain   and   cut   him    mto    a 
thousand  pieces.     General  Platoff  had  saved  Paris 
from  being  reduced  to  ashes.     The  white  cockade 
was  worn   everywhere,    and   an  immediate  peace 
wa^  now  certain.     He  immediately  ordered  out  a 
post-chaise  and  four,  but  first  wrote  the  news  to 
Admiral  Foley,  the  port-admiral  at   Deal.      The 
letter  reached  the  admiral  about  four  a.m.,  but  the 
morning  proving  foggy,  the  telegraph  would  not 
work      Off  dashed  De  Bourg  (really  De  Berenger, 
an  adventurer,  afterwards  a  livery-stable  keeper), 
throwing  napoleons  to  the  post-boys  every  time  he 
changed  horses.     At   Bexley   Heath,  finding   the 
telegraph  could  not  have  worked,  he  moderated 
his  pace  and  spread  the   news  of  the   Cossacks 
fighting  for  Napoleon's  body.     At  the  Marsh  Gate, 
Lambeth,  he  entered  a  hackney  &ach,  tellmg  the 
post-boys  to  spread  the  news  on  their  return.     By 
a  little  after  ten,  the  rumours  reached  the  Stock 
Exchange,  and  the  funds  rose;  but  on  its  being 
found  that  the  Lord  Mayor  had  had   no  intelli- 
gence they  soon  went  down  again. 

In  the  meantime  other  artful  confederates  were 
at  work.     The  same  day,  about  an  hour  before 


Stock  Exchange.! 


SOME  MYSTERIES  OF  THE  STOCK  EXCHANGE. 


479 


daylight,  two  men,  dressed  as  foreigners,  landed 
from  a  six-oar  galley,  and  called  on  a  gentleman  of 
Northfleet,  and  handed  him  a  letter  from  an  old 
friend,  begging  him  to  take  the  bearers  to  London, 
as  they  had  great  public  news  to  communicate ; 
they  were  accordingly  taken.  About  twelve  or 
one  the  same  afternoon,  three  persons  (two  of 
whom  were  dressed  as  French  officers)  drove 
slowly  over  London  Bridge  in  a  post-chaise,  the 
horses  of  which  were  bedecked  with  laurel.  The 
officers  scattered  billets  to  the  crowd,  announcing 
the  death  of  Napoleon  and  the  fall  of  Paris. 
They  then  paraded  through  Cheapside  and  Fleet 
Street,  passed  over  Blackfriars  Bridge,  drove  rapidly 
to  the  Marsh  Gate,  Lambeth,  got  out,  changed  their 
cocked  hats  for  round  ones,  and  disappeared  as 
De  Bourg  had  done. 

The  funds  once  more  rose,  and  long  bargains 
were  made ;  but  still  some  doubt  was  felt  by  the 
less  sanguine,  as  the  ministers  as  yet  denied  all 
knowledge  of  the  news.  Hour  after  hour  passed 
by,  and  the  certainty  of  the  falsity  of  the  news 
gradually  developed  itself.  "To  these  scenes  of 
joy,"  says  a  witness,  "  and  of  greedy  expectations 
of  gain,  succeeded,  in  a  few  hours,  disappointment 
and  shame  at  having  been  gulled,  the  clenching  of 
fists,  the  grinding  of  teeth,  the]  tearing  of  hair,  all 
the  outward  and  visible  signs  of  those  inward 
commotions  of  disappointed  avarice  in  some,  con- 
sciousness of  ruin  in  others,  and  in  all  boiling 
revenge."  A  committee  was  appointed  by  the 
Stock  Exchange  to  track  out  the  conspiracy,  as 
on  the  two  days  before  Consols  and  Omnium,  to 
the  amount  of  ;z^826,ooo,  had  been  purchased  by 
persons  implicated.  Because  one  of  the  gang  had 
for  a  blind  called  on  the  celebrated  Lord  Coch- 
rane, and  because  a  relation  of  his  engaged  in  the 
affair  had  purchased  Consols  for  him,  that  he  might 
unconsciously  benefit  by  the  fraud,  the  Tories, 
eager  to  destroy  a  bitter  political  enemy,  con- 
centrated all  their  rage  on  as  high-minded,  pure, 
and  chivalrous  a  man  as  ever  trod  a  frigate's  deck. 
He  was  tried  June  21,  18 17,  at  the  Court  of 
Queen's  Bench,  fined  ;^i,ooo,  and  sentenced 
ignominiously  to  stand  one  hour  in  the  pillory. 
This  latter  part  of  his  sentence  the  Government 
was,  however,  afraid  to  carry  out,  as  Sir  Francis 
Burdett  had  declared  that  if  it  was  done,  he  would 
stand  beside  his  friend  on  the  scaffold  of  shame. 
To  crown  all,  Cochrane's  political  enemies  had  him 
stripped  of  his  knighthood,  and  the  escutcheon  of 
his  order  disgracefully  kicked  down  the  steps  of 
the  chapel  in  Westminster  Abbey.  For  some 
years  this  true  successor  of  Nelson  remained  a 
branded  exile,  devoting  his  courage  to  the  cause 


of  universal  liberty,  lost  to  the  country  which 
he  loved  so  much.  In  his  old  age  tardy  justice 
restored  to  him  his  unsoiled  coronet,  and  finally 
awarded  him  a  grave  among  her  heroes. 

The  ticket- pocketing  of  1821  is  thus  described 
by  the  author  of  "  An  Expose  of  the  Mysteries  of 
the  Stock  Exchange  : " — "  Of  all  the  tricks,"  he 
says,  "practised  against  Goldschmidt,  the  ticket 
pocketing  scheme  was,  perhaps,  the  most  iniquitous : 
it  was  to  prevent  the  buying  in  on  a  settling  day  the 
balance  of  the  account,  and  to  defeat  the  consequent 
rise,  thereby  making  the  real  bear  a  fictitious  bull 
account.  To  give  the  reader  a  conception  of  this, 
and  of  the  practices  as  well  as  the  interior  of  the 
Stock  Exchange,  the  following  attempted  delinea- 
tion is  submitted  : — The  doors  open  before  ten,  and 
at  the  minute  of  ten  the  spirit-stirring  rattle  grates 
to  action.  Consols  are,  suppose,  69  to  69-J — that 
is,  buyers  at  the  lower  and  sellers  at  the  higher 
price.  Trifling  manoeuvres  and  puffing  up  till 
twelve,  as  neither  party  msh  the  Government 
broker  to  buy  under  the  highest  price  ;  the  sinking- 
fund  purchaser  being  the  point  of  diurnal  altitude, 
as  the  period  before  a  loan  is  the  annually  de- 
pressed point  of  price,  when  the  Stock  Exchange 
have  the  orbit  of  these  revolutions  under  their  own 
control. 

"  At  twelve  the  broker  mounts  the  rostrum  and 
opens :  '  Gentlemen,  I  am  a  buyer  of  ;^6o,ooo 
Consols  for  Government,  at  69.'  'At  ^th,  sir,'  the 
jobbers  resound;  'ten  thousand  of  me — five  of 
me — two  of  me,'  holding  up  as  many  fingers. 
Nathan,  Goldschmidt's  agent,  says,  'You  may 
have  them  all  of  me  at  your  own  bidding,  69.' 
In  ten  minutes  this  commission  is  earned  from  the 
public,  and  this  state  sinking-fund  joint  stock 
jobbed.  Nathan  is  hustled,  his  hat  and  wig  thrown 
upon  the  commissioner's  sounding-board,  and  he 
must  stand  bare-headed  until  the  porter  can  bring 
a  ladder  to  get  it  down.  Out  squalls  a  ticket- 
carrier,  'Done  at  I;'  again,  'At  |,  all  a-going;' 
and  the  contractors  must  go,  too;  they  have  served 
the  commissioners  at  69,  when  the  market  was  full 
one-eighth.  All  must  come  to  market  before  next 
omnium  payment ;  they  cannot  keep  it  up  (yet  this 
operation  might  have  suited  the  positions  of  the 
market).  Nathan  cries  out,  '  Where  done  at  fth's  ?' 
'Here  —  there,  there,  there!'  Mr.  Doubleface, 
going  out  at  the  door,  meets  Mr.  Ambush,  a 
brother  bear,  with  a  wink,  'Sir,  they  are  |ths,  I 
believe,  sellers  ;  you  may  have  ;o  2,000  thereat,  and 
;^io,ooo  at  fths.'  This  is  called  fiddling :  it  is 
allowable  to  jobbers  thus  to  bring  the  turn  to  Jjth, 
or  a  32  nd,  but  not  to  brokers,  as  thereby  the  public 
would  not  be  fleeced  ^th,   to  the  house  benefit. 


4So 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Stock  Exchantre. 


'  Sir,  I  would  not  take  them  at  ^th,'  replies  Mr. 
Ambush.  *  Offered  at  |ths  and  gths,'  bawls  out  an 
urchin  scout,  holding  up  his  face  to  the  ceiling, 
that  by  the  re-echo  his  spot  may  not  be  dis- 
fcovered." 

The  system  of  business  at  the  Stock  Exchange 
is  thus  described  by  an  accomplished  \\Titer  on  the 
subject :  "  Bargains  are  made  in  the  presence  of  a 
third  person.  The  terms  are  simply  entered  in  a 
pocket-book,  but  are  checked  the  next  day ;  and 
the  jobber's  clerk  (also  a  member  of  the  house) 
pays  or  receives  the  money,  and  sees  that  the 
securities  are  correct  There  are  but  three  or  four 
dealers  in  Exchequer  bills.  Most  members  of  the 
Stock  Exchange  keep  their  money  in  convertible 
securities,  so  that  it  can  be  changed  from  hand  to 
hand  almost  at  a  moment's  notice.  The  brokers 
execute  the  orders  of  bankers,  merchants,  and 
private  individuals  ;  and  the  jobbers  are  the  per- 
sons with  whom  they  deal.  When  the  broker 
appears  in  the  market,  he  is  at  once  surrounded 
by  eager  jobbers.  One  of  the  cries  of  the  Stock 
Exchange  is,  ' Borrow  money ?  borrow  money?' — 
a  singular  cry  to  general  apprehension,  but  it  of 
course  implies  that  the  credit  of  the  borrower 
must  be  first-rate,  or  his  security  of  the  most 
satisfactory  nature,  and  that  it  is  not  the  principal 
who  goes  into  the  market,  but  only  the  jmncipal's 
broker.  'Have  you  money  to  lend  to-day?'  is  a 
startling  question  often  asked  with  perfect  7wti- 
c/uilance  in  the  Stock  Exchange.  If  the  answer 
is  'Yes,'  the  borrower  says,  'I  want  ^10,000  j 
or  ;;^20,ooo.' — 'At  what  security?'  is  the  vital 
question  that  soon  follows. 

"  Another  mode  of  doing  business  is  to  conceal 
the  object  of  the  borrower  or  lender,  who  asks, 
MVliat  are  Exchequer?'  The  answer  may  be, 
*  Forty  and  forty-two.'  That  is,  the  party  addressed 
will  buy  ^1,000  at  40  shillings,  and  sell  ^1,000 
at  42  shillings.  The  jobbers  cluster  round  the 
broker,  who  perhaps  says,  '  I  must  have  a  price 
in  ;;^5,ooo.'  If  it  suits  them,  they  will  say,  '  Five 
with  me,'  '  Five  with  me,'  '  Five  with  me,'  making 
fifteen ;  or  they  will  say,  '  Ten  with  me ;'  and 
it  is  the  broker's  business  to  get  these  parties 
pledged  to  buy  of  him  at  40,  or  to  sell  to  him  at 
42,  they  not  knowing  whether  he  's  a  buyer  or 
a  seller.  The  broker  then  declares  his  purpose, 
saying,  for  example,  '  Gentlemen,  I  sell  to  you 
;^2  0,000  at  40 ;'  and  the  sum  is  then  appor- 
tioned among  them.  If  the  money  were  wanted 
only  for  a  month,  and  the  Exchequer  market 
remained  the  same  during  the  time,  the  buyer 
would  have  to  give  42  in  the  market  for  what 
he  sold  at  40,  being  the  difierence  between  the 


buying  and  the  selling  price,  besides  wliich  he 
would  have  to  pay  the  broker  is.  per  cent,  com- 
mission on  the  sale,  and  is.  per  cent,  on  the  pur- 
chase, again  on  the  bills,  which  would  make 
altogether  4s.  per  cent.  If  the  object  of  the  broker 
be  to  buy  Consols,  the  jobber  offers  to  buy  his 
;^i  0,000  at  96,  or  to  sell  him  that  amount  at 
96^,  without  being  at  all  aware  which  he  is 
engaging  himself  to  do.  The  same  person  may 
not  know  on  any  particular  day  whether  he  will 
be  a  borrower  or  a  lender.  If  he  has  sold  stock, 
and  has  not  re-purchased  about  one  or  two  o'clock 
in  the  day,  he  would  be  a  lender  of  money  ;  but  if 
he  has  bought  stock,  and  not  sold,  he  would  be  a 
borrower.  Immense  sums  are  lent  on  condition 
of  being  recalled  on  the  short  notice  of  a  few 
hours." 

The  uninitiated  wonder  that  any  man  should 
borrow  ;;^i 0,000  or  ;£'20,ooo  for  a  day,  or  at  most 
a  fortnight,  when  it  is  liable  to  be  called  for  at 
the  shortest  notice.  The  directors  of  a  railway 
company,  instead  of  locking  up  their  money,  send 
the  ^12,000  or  ^14,000  a  week  to  a  broker,  to 
be  lent  on  proper  securities.  Persons  who  pay 
large  duties  to  Government  at  fixed  periods,  lend 
the  sums  for  a  week  or  two.  A  person  intending 
to  lay  out  his  capital  in  mortgage  or  real  ])roperty, 
lends  out  the  sum  till  he  meets  with  a  suitable 
offer.  The  great  bankers  lend  their  surplus  cash 
on  the  Stork  Exchange.  A  jobber,  at  the  close  of 
the  day,  will  lend  his  money  at  i  per  cent.,  rather 
than  not  employ  it  at  all.  The  extraordinary 
fluctuations  in  the  rate  of  interest  even  in  a  single 
day  are  a  great  temptation  to  the  money-lender 
to  resort  to  the  Stock  Exchange.  "  Instances 
have  occurred,"  says  our  authority,  "when  in  the 
morning  everybody  has  been  anxious  to  lend 
money  at  4  per  cent.,  when  about  two  o'clock 
money  has  become  so  scarce  that  it  could  with 
difiiculty  be  borrowed  at  10  per  cent.  If  the 
price  of  Consols  be  low,  persons  who  are  desirous 
of  raising  money  will  give  a  high  rate  of  interest 
rather  than  sell  stock." 

The  famous  Pop-gun  Plot  was  generally  supposed 
to  have  bc-en  a  Stock  Exchange  trick.  A  writer 
on  stockbroking  says  :  "  The  Pop-gun  Plot,  in 
Palace  Yard,  on  a  memorable  occasion  of  the 
King  going  to  the  Parliament  House,  was  never 
understood  or  traced  home.  It  is  said  to  have 
originated  in  a  Stock  Exchange  hoax.  '  Popgun 
John  '  was  at  the  time  a  low  republican  in  the 
Stock  Exchange,  and  had  a  house  in  or  near 
Palace  Yard,  from  which  a  missile  had  been  pro- 
jected.    He  subsequendy  grew  rich." 

The  journals   of  that    day   described    the    hot 


Stock  Exchange.! 


THE  POP-GUN    PLOT. 


481 


pursuit  by  the  myrmidons  being  cooled  by  a  well- 
got-up  story  that  the  fugitive  suspected  had  been 
unfortunately  drowned  ;  and  in  proof,  a  hat  picked 
up  by  a  waterman  at  the  Nore  was  brought  wet  to 
the  police  office,  and  proved  to  have  belonged  to 


account;  if  sufficient  to  trip  up  the  contractors, 
the  better. 

While  the  dupes  of  the  Cato  Street  conspiracy 
were  dangling  before  the  "  debtor's  door,"  the  sur- 
viving adept  of  the  former  plot,  from  his  villa  not 


THE   PRESENT   STOCK   EXCHANGE. 


the  person  pursued.  The  plotter  disappeared  after 
this  "drowning"  for  some  months,  while  the  hush- 
money  and  sinister  manoeuvres  were  baffling  the 
pursuers.  Afterwards,  the  affair  dying  away,  he 
reappeared,  resuscitated,  in  the  Stock  Exchange, 
making  very  little  secret  of  this  extraordinary  affair, 
and  would  relate  it  in  ordinary  conversation  on  the 
Stock  Exchange  benches,  as  a  philosophical  experi- 
ment, not  intended  to  endanger  the  king's  life, 
but  certainly  planned  to  frighten  the  public,  so 
as  to  effect  a  fall,  and  realise  a  profitable  bear 
41 


ten  miles  from  London,  was  mounting  his  carriage 
to  drive  to  the  Stock  Exchange,  to  operate  upon 
the  effect  this  example  might  produce  in  the  public 
mind,  and,  consequently,  realising  his  now  large 
portion  of  funded  property. 

"  If  there  are  any  members  now  of  that  standing 
in  the  Stock  Exchange,  they  must  remember  how 
artlessly  the  tale  of  this  philosophical  experiment 
used  to  be  told  by  the  contriver  of  it  in  a  year  or 
two  afterwards,  in  reliance  upon  Stock  Exchange 
men's  honour  and  confidence. 


482 


OLD   AND    NEW   LONDON. 


[Stock  Exchange. 


In  the  year  1798,  Nathan,  the  third  son  of  Meyer 
Anselm  Rothschild,  of  Frankfort,  intimated  to  his 
father  that  he  would  go  to  England,  and  there  com- 
mence business.  The  father  knew  the  intr^idity 
of  Nathan,  and  had  great  confidence  in  his  financial 
skill :  he  interposed,  therefore,  no  difficulties.  The 
plan  was  proposed  on  Tuesday,  and  on  Thursday 
it  was  put  into  execution. 

Nathan  was  entrusted  with  ^^20,000,  and  though 
perfectly  ignorant  of  the  English  language,  he  com- 
menced a  most  gigantic  career,  so  that  in  a  brief 
period  the  above  sum  increased  to  the  amount  of 
;^6o,ooo.  Manchester  was  his  starting-point.  He 
took  a  comprehensive  survey  of  its  products,  and 
observed  that  by  proper  management  a  treble 
harvest  might  be  reaped  from  them.  He  secured 
the  three  profitable  trades  in  his  grasp — viz.,  the 
raw  material,  the  dyeing,  and  the  manufacturing — 
and  was  consequently  able  to  sell  goods  cheaper 
than  any  one  else.  His  profits  were  immense,  and 
Manchester  soon  became  too  little  for  his  specula- 
tive mind.  Nevertheless,  he  would  not  have  left 
it  were  it  not  a  private  pique  against  one  of  his 
co-religionists,  which  originated  by  the  dishonour- 
ing of  a  bill  which  was  made  payable  to  him,  dis- 
gusted him  with  the  Manchester  community.  In 
1800,  therefore,  he  quitted  Manchester  for  the 
metropolis.  With  .  giant  strides  he  progressed  in 
his  prosperity.  The  confused  and  insecure  state 
of  the  Continent  added  to  his  fortune,  and  con- 
tributed to  his  fame. 

The  Prince  of  Hesse  Cassel,  in  flying  from  the 
approach  of  the  republican  armies,  desired,  as  he 
passed  through  Frankfort,  to  store  a  vast  amount 
of  wealth,  in  such  a  manner  as  might  leave  him  a 
chance  of  recovery  after  the  storm  had  passed  by. 
He  sought  out  Meyer  Anselm  Rothschild,  and  con- 
fided all  his  worldly  possessions  to  the  keeping  of 
the  Hebrew  banker.  Meyer  Anselm,  either  from 
fear  of  loss  or  hope  of  gain,  sent  the  money  to 
his  son  Nathan,  settled  in  London,  and  the  latter 
thus  alluded  to  this  circumstance  :  "  The  Prince  of 
Hesse  Cassel  gave  my  father  his  money ;  there 
was  no  time  to  be  lost;  he  sent  it  to  me.  I  had 
_;i{^6oo,ooo  arrive  by  post  unexpectedly ;  and  I 
put  it  to  so  good  use,  that  the  prince  made  me  a 
present  of  all  his  wine  and  linen." 

"When  the  late  Mr.  Rothschild  was  alive,  if 
business,"  says  the  author  of  "  The  City,"  "  ever 
became  flat  and  unprofitable  in  the  Stock  Exchange, 
the  brokers  and  jobbers  generally  complained,  and 
threw  the  blame  upon  this  leviathan  of  the  money 
market.  Whatever  was  wrong,  was  always  alleged 
to  be  the  effects  of  Mr.  Rothschild's  operations, 
and,  according  to  the  views  of  these  parties,  he 


was  either  bolstering  up,  or  unnecessarily  depress- 
ing prices  for  his  own  object.  An  anecdote  is 
related  of  this  great  speculator,  that  hearing  on  one 
occasion  that  a  broker  had  given  very  strong  ex- 
pression to  his  feelings  in  the  open  market  on  this 
subject,  dealing  out  the  most  deadly  anathemas 
against  the  Jews,  and  consigning  them  to  the  most 
horrible  torments,  he  sent  the  broker,  through  the 
medium  of  another  party,  an  order  to  sell  ;j^6oo,ooo 
Consols,  saying,  'As  he  always  so  abuses  me,  they 
will  never  suspect  he  is  bearing  the  market  on 
my  account.'  Mr.  Rothschild  employed  several 
brokers  to  do  his  business,  and  hence  there  was  no 
ascertaining  what  in  reality  was  the  tendency  of 
his  operations.  While  perchance  one  broker  was 
buying  a  certain  quantity  of  stock  on  the  order  of 
his  principal  in  the  market,  another  at  the  same 
moment  would  be  instructed  to  sell ;  so  that  it  was 
only  in  the  breast  of  the  principal  to  know  the 
probable  result.  It  is  said  that  Mrs.  Rothschild 
tried  her  hand  in  speculating,  and  endeavoured  by 
all  her  influence  to  get  at  the  secret  of  her 
husband's  dealings.  She,  however,  failed,  and 
was  therefore  not  very  successful  in  her  ventures. 
Long  before  Mr.  Rothschild's  death,  it  was  pro- 
phesied by  many  of  the  brokers  that,  when  the 
event  occurred,  the  public  would  be  less  alarmed 
at  the  influence  of  the  firm,  and  come  forAvard 
more  boldly  to  engage  in  stock  business.  They 
have,  notwithstanding,  been  very  much  mistaken." 

The  chronicler  of  the  "Stock  Exchange  "  says  : 
"  One  cause  of  Rothschild's  success,  was  the  secrecy 
with  which  he  shrouded  all  his  transactions,  and 
the  tortuous  policy  with  which  he  misled  those  the 
most  who  watched  him  the  keenest.  If  he  pos- 
sessed news  calculated  to  make  the  funds  rise,  he 
would, commission  the  broker  who  acted  on  his 
behalf  to  sell  half  a  million.  The  shoal  of  men 
who  usually  follow  the  movements  of  others,  sold 
with  him.  The  news  soon  passed  through  Capel 
Court  that  Rothschild  was  bearing  the  market, 
and  the  funds  fell.  Men  looked  doubtingly  at 
one  another ;  a  general  panic  spread ;  bad  news 
was  looked  for;  and  these  united  agencies  sunk 
the  price  two  or  three  per  cent.  This  was  the 
result  expected;  other  brokers,  not  usually  em- 
ployed by  him,  bought  all  they  could  at  the 
reduced  rate.  By  the  time  this  was  accomplished 
the  good  news  had  arrived ;  the  pressure  ceased, 
the  funds  arose  instantly,  and  Mr.  Rothschild 
reaped  his  reward.'' 

It  sometimes  happened  that  notwithstanding 
Rothschild's  profound  secrecy,  he  was  overcome 
by  stratagem.  The  following  circumstance,  which 
was  related  to  Mr.  Margoliouth  by  a  person  who 


Stock  Exchange.] 


ROTHSCHILD   OVERREACHED. 


483 


knew  Rothschild  well,  will  illustrate  the  above 
statement.  When  the  Hebrew  financier  lived  at 
Stamford  Hill,  there  resided  opposite  to  him  another 
very  wealthy  dealer  in  the  Stock  Exchange,  Lucas 
by  name.  The  latter  returning  home  one  night 
at  a  late  hour  from  a  convivial  party,  observed  a 
carriage  and  four  standing  before  Rothschild's  gate, 
upon  which  he  ordered  his  own  carriage  out  of 
the  way,  and  commanded  his  coachman  to  await 
in  readiness  his  return.  Lucas  went  stealthily  and 
watched,  unobserved,  the  movements  at  Rothschild's 
gate.  He  did  not  lie  long  in  ambush  before  he 
heard  some  one  leaving  the  Hebrew  millionaire's 
mansion,  and  going  towards  the  carriage.  He  saw 
Rothschild,  accompanied  by  two  muffled  figures, 
step  into  the  carriage,  and  heard  the  word  of  com- 
mand, "  To  the  City."  He  followed  Rothschild's 
carriage  very  closely,  but  when  he  reached  the  top 
of  the  street  in  which  Rothschild's  office  was 
situated,  Lucas  ordered  his  carriage  to  stop,  from 
which  he  stepped  out,  and  proceeded,  reeling  to 
and  fro  through  the  street,  feigning  to  be  mortally 
drunk.  He  made  his  way  in  the  same  mood  as 
far  as  Rothschild's  office,  z.n6.  sans  ceremonie  opened 
the  door,  to  the  great  consternation  and  terror  of 
the  housekeeper,  uttering  sundry  ejaculations  in 
the  broken  accents  of  Bacchus'  votaries.  Heed- 
less of  the  affi-ighted  housekeeper's  remonstrances, 
he  opened  Rothschild's  private  office,  in  the  same 
staggering  attitude,  and  fell  down  flat  on  the  floor, 

Rothschild  and  his  friends  became  very  much 
alarmed.  Efforts  were  made  to  restore  and  remove 
the  would-be  drunkard,  but  Lucas  was  too  good  an 
actor,  and  was  therefore  in  such  a  fit  as  to  be  unable 
to  be  moved  hither  or  thither.  "  Should  a  physician 
be  sent  for  ?"  asked  Rothschild.  But  the  house- 
keeper threw  some  cold  water  into  Lucas's  face, 
and  the  patient  began  to  breathe  a  little  more  natu- 
rally, and  fell  into  a  sound  snoring  sleep.  He  was 
covered  over,  and  Rothschild  and  the  strangers  pro- 
ceeded unsuspectingly  to  business.  The  strangers 
brought  the  good  intelligence  that  the  affairs  in 
Spain  were  all  right,  respecting  which  the  members 
of  the  Exchange  were,  for  a  few  days  previous,  very 
apprehensive,  and  the  funds  were  therefore  in  a 
rapidly  sinking  condition.  The  good  news  could 
not,  however,  in  the  common  course  of  despatch, 
be  publicly  known  for  another  day.  Rothschild 
therefore  planned  to  order  his  brokers  to  buy  up, 
cautiously,  all  the  stock  that  should  be  in  the 
market  by  twelve  o'clock  the  following  day.  He 
sent  for  his  principal  broker  thus  early,  in  order  to 
entrust  him  with  the  important  instruction. 

The  broker  was  rather  tardier  than  Rothschild's 
patience  could  brook  3  he  therefore  determined  to 


go  himself.  As  soon  as  Rothschild  was  gone, 
Lucas  began  to  recover,  and  by  degrees  was  able 
to  get  up,  though  distracted,  as  he  said,  "with  a 
violent  headache,"  and  insisted,  in  spite  of  the 
housekeeper's  expostulations,  upon  going  home. 
But  Lucas  went  to  his  broker,  and  instructed  him 
to  buy  up  all  the  stock  he  could  get  by  ten  o'clock 
the  following  morning.  About  eleven  o'clock  Lucas 
met  Rothschild,  and  inquired  satirically  how  he, 
Rothschild,  was  off  for  stock.  Lucas  won  the  day, 
and  Rothschild  is  said  never  to  have  forgiven  "  the 
base,  dishonest,  and  nefarious  stratagem." 

Yet,  with  all  his  hoardings,  says  Mr.  Margoliouth, 
Rothschild  was  by  no  means  a  happy  man.  Dan- 
gers and  assassinations  seemed  to  haunt  his  ima- 
gination by  day  and  by  night,  and  not  without 
grounds.  Many  a  time,  as  he  himself  said,  just 
before  he  sat  down  to  dinner,  a  note  would  be  put 
into  his  hand,  running  thus  : — "  If  you  do  not  send 
me  immediately  the  sum  of  five  hundred  pounds,  I 
will  blow  your  brains  out."  He  affected  to  despise 
such  threats ;  they,  nevertheless,  exercised  a  direful 
eftect  upon  the  millionaire.  He  loaded  his  pistols 
every  night  before  he  went  to  bed,  and  put  them 
beside  him.  He  did  not  think  himself  more  secure 
in  his  country  house  than  he  did  in  his  bed.  One 
day,  while  busily  engaged  in  his  golden  occupation, 
two  foreign  gentlemen  were  announced  as  desirous 
to  see  Baron  Rothschild  /;/  propria  persona.  The 
strangers  had  not  the  foresight  to  have  the  letters 
of  introduf  tion  in  readiness.  They  stood,  therefore, 
before  the  Baron  in  the  ludicrous  attitude  of  having 
their  eyes  fixed  upon  the  Hebrew  Croesus,  and  with 
their  hands  rummaging  in  large  P^uropean  coat- 
pockets.  The  fervid  and  excited  imagination  of 
the  Baron  conjured  up  a  multitudinous  array  of 
conspiracies.  Fancy  eclipsed  his  reason,  and,  in  a 
fit  of  excitement,  he  seized  a  huge  ledger,  which  he 
aimed  and  hurled  at  the  mustachioed  strangers, 
calling  out,  at  the  same  time,  for  additional  physical 
force.  The  astonished  Italians,  however,  were  not 
long,  after  that,  in  finding  the  important  documents 
they  looked  for,  which  explained  all.  The  Baron 
begged  the  strangers'  pardon  for  the  unintentional 
insult,  and  was  heard  to  articulate  to  himself,  "  Poor 
unhappy  me !  a  victim  to  nervousness  and  fancy's 
terrors  !  and  all  because  of  my  money  !" 

Rothschild's  mode  of  doing  business  when  en- 
gaging in  large  transactions  (says  Mr.  Grant)  was 
this.  Supposing  he  possessed  exclusively,  which 
he  often  did,  a  day  or  two  before  it  could  be  gene- 
rally known,  intelligence  of  some  event,  which  had 
occurred  in  any  part  of  the  Continent,  sufficiently 
important  to  cause  a  rise  in  the  French  funds,  and 
through  them  on  the  English  funds,  he  would  em- 


484 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Stock  Exchange. 


power  the  brokers  he  usually  employed  to  sell  out 
stock,  say  to  the  amount  of  ^^5  00,000.     The  news 
spread  in  a  moment  that  Rothschild  was  selling 
out,  and  a  general   alarm  followed.      Every  one 
apprehended  that  he  had  received  intelligence  from 
some  foreign  part  of  some  important  event  which 
would  produce  a  fall  in  prices.     As  might,  under 
such  circumstances,  be  expected,  all  became  sellers 
at  once.     This,  of  necessity,  caused  the  funds,  to 
use  Stock  Exchange  phraseologj',  "  to  tumble  down 
at  a  fearful  rate."    Next  day,  when  they  had  fallen, 
perhaps,  one   or  two   per   cent,  he  would  make 
purchases,  say  to  the  amount  of  ;^  1,5  00, 000,  taking 
care,  however,  to   employ  a  number   of  brokers 
whom  he  was  not  in  the  habit  of  employing,  and 
commissioning  each  to  purchase  to  a  certain  extent, 
and^lgiving  all  of  them   strict  orders  to  preserve 
secrecy  in  the  matter.      Each  of  the  persons  so 
employed  was,  by  this  means,  ignorant  of  the  com- 
mission given  to  the  others.     Had  it  been  known 
the  purchases  were  made  by  him,  there  Avould  have 
been  as  great  and  sudden  a  rise  in  the  prices  as 
there  had  been  in  the  fall,  so  that  he  could  not 
purchase  to  the  intended  extent  on  such  advan- 
tageous terms.     On   the   third   day,  perhaps,  the 
intelUgence  which  had  been  expected  by  the  jobbers 
to  be  unfavourable  arrived,  and,  instead  of  being  so, 
turned  out  to  be  highly  favourable.     Prices  instan- 
taneously rise   again,  and   possibly  they  may  get 
one  and  a-half  or  even  two  per  cent,  higher  than 
they  were  when  he  sold  out  his  ^500,000.     He 
now  sells  out,  at  the  advanced  price,  the  entire 
;^i, 500,000  he  had  purchased  at  the  reduced  prices. 
The  gains  by  such  extensive  transactions,  when  so 
skilfully  managed,   will  be  at  once  seen  to  be 
enormous.     By  the  supposed  transaction,  assuming 
the  rise  to  be  two  per  cent.,  the  gain  would  be 
_;^35,ooo.     But  this  is  not  the  greatest  gain  which 
the  late  leviathian  of  modem  capitalists  made  by 
such  transactions.     He,  on  more  than  one  occa- 
sion, made  upwards  of  ;^i  00,000  on  one  account. 
But  though  no  person  during  the  last  twelve  or 
fifteen  years  of  Rothschild's  life  (says  Grant)  was 
ever  able,  for  any  length  of  time,  to  compete  with 
him  in  the  money  market,  he  on  several  occasions 
was,  in  single  transactions,  outwitted  by  the  superior 
tactics  of  others.    The  gentleman  to  whom  I  allude 
was  then  and  is  now  the  head  of  one  of  the  largest 
private  banking  establishments  in  town.     Abraham 
Montefiore,    Rothschild's    brother-in-law,   was   the 
principal  broker  to  the  great  capitalist,  and  in  that 
capacity  was  commissioned  by  the  latter  to  nego- 
tiate with  Mr. a  loan  of  ^^i, 500,000.     The 

security  offered  by  Rothschild  was  a  proportionate 
amount  of  stock  in  Consols,  which  were  at  that 


time  84.  This  stock  was,  of  course,  to  be  trans- 
ferred to  the  name  of  the  party  advancing  the 
money,  Rothschild's  object  being  to  raise  the  price 
of  Consols  by  carrying  so  large  a  quantity  out  of  the 
market.  The  money  was  lent,  and  the  conditions 
of  the  loan  were  these — that  the  interest  on  the 
sum  advanced  should  be  at  the  rate  of  4I  per 
cent,  and  that  if  the  price  of  Consols  should  chance 

to  go  down  to  74,  Mr. should  have  the  right 

of  claiming  the  stock  at  70.  The  Jew,  no  doubt, 
laughed  at  what  he  conceived  his  own  commercial 
dexterity  in  the  transaction ;  but,  ere  long,  he  had 
abundant  reason  to  laugh  on  the  wrong  side  of  his 
mouth;  for,  no  sooner  was  the  stock  poiured  into  the 
hand  of  the  banker,  than  the  latter  sold  it,  along 
with  an  immensely  large  sum  which  had  been  pre- 
viously standing  in  his  name,  amounting  altogether 
to  little  short  of  ^^3,000,000.     But  even  this  was 

not  all.     Mr.  also  held  powers  of  attorney 

from  several  of  the  leading  Scotch  and  English 
banks,  as  well  as  from  various  private  individuals, 
who  had  large  property  in  the  funds,  to  sell  stock 
on  their  account.  On  these  powers  of  attorney  he 
acted,  and  at  the  same  time  advised  his  friends  to 
follow  his  example.  They  at  once  did  so,  and  the 
consequence  was  that  the  aggregate  amount  of 
stock  sold  by  himself  and  his  friends  conjointly 
exceeded  ;i^i  0,000,000.  So  unusual  an  extent  of 
sales,  all  effected  in  the  shortest  possible  time, 
necessarily  drove  down  the  prices.  In  an  incre- 
dibly short  time  they  fell  to  74 ;  immediately  on 

which,  Mr. claimed  of  Rothschild  his  stock 

at  70.  The  Jew  could  not  refuse :  it  was  in  the 
bond.  This  climax  being  reached,  the  banker 
bought  in  again  all  the  stock  he  had  previously 
sold  out,  and  advised  his  friends  to  re-purchase 
also.  They  did  so ;  and  the  result  was,  that  in  a 
few  weeks  Consols  reached  84  again,  their  original 
price,  and  from  that  to  86.  Rothschild's  losses 
were  very  great  by  this  transaction ;  but  they  were 
by  no  means  equal  to  the  banker's  gains,  which 
could  not  have  been  less  than  ;!^3oo,ooo  or 
^^400,000. 

The  following  grotesque  sketch  of  the  great 
Rothschild  is  from  the  pen  of  a  clever  anonymous 
writer: — "The  thing  before  you,"  says  the  author 
quoted,  "stands  cold,  motionless,  and  apparently 
speculationless,  as  the  pillar  of  salt  into  which 
the  avaricious  spouse  of  the  patriarch  v/as  turned ; 
and  while  you  start  with  wonder  at  what  it  can 
be  or  mean,  you  pursue  the  association,  and  think 
upon  the  fire  and  brimstone  that  were  rained 
down.  It  is  a  human  being  of  no  very  Apollo- 
like form  or  face :  short,  squat,  with  its  shoulders 
drawn  up  to  its  ears,  and  its  hands  delved  into  its 


Stock  Exchange.  ] 


A   SUCCESSFUL   SPECULATION. 


485 


breeches'-pockets.  The  hue  of  its  face  is  a  mixture 
of  brick-dust  and  saffron  ;  and  the  texture  seems 
that  of  the  skin  of  a  dead  frog.  There  is  a  rigidity 
and  tension  in  the  features,  too,  which  would  make 
you  fancy,  if  you  did  not  see  that  that  were  not 
the  fact,  that  some  one  from  behind  was  pinching 
it  with  a  pair  of  hot  tongs,  and  that  k  were  either 
afraid  or  ashamed  to  tell.  Eyes  are  usually  de- 
nominated the  windows  of  the  soul ;  but  here  you 
would  conclude  that  the  windows  are  false  ones,  or 
that  there  is  no  soul  to  look  out  at  them.  There 
comes  not  one  pencil  of  light  from  the  interior, 
neither  is  there  one  scintillation  of  that  which 
comes  from  without  reflected  in  any  direction. 
The  whole  puts  you  in  mind  of  '  a  skin  to  let ;' 
and  you  wonder  why  it  stands  upright  without  at 
least  something  within.  By-and-by  another  figure 
comes  up  to  it.  It  then  steps  two  paces  aside,  and 
the  most  inquisitive  glance  that  ever  you  saw,  and 
a  glance  more  inquisitive  than  you  would  ever  have 
thought  of,  is  drawn  out  of  the  erewhile  fixed  and 
leaden  eye,  as  if  one  were  drawing  a  sword  from 
a  scabbard.  The  visiting  figure,  which  has  the 
appearance  of  coming  by  accident,  and  not  by 
design,  stops  but  a  second  or  two,  in  the  course 
of  which  looks  are  exchanged  which,  though  you 
cannot  translate,  you  feel  must  be  of  most  impor- 
tant meaning.  After  these,  the  eyes  are  sheathed 
up  again,  and  the  figure  resumes  its  stony  posture. 
During  the  morning  numbers  of  visitors  come,  all 
of  whom  meet  with  a  similar  reception,  and  vanish 
in  a  similar  manner;  and  last  of  all  the  figure 
itself  vanishes,  leaving  you  utterly  at  a  loss  as  to 
what  can  be  its  nature  and  functions." 

Abraham  Goldsmid,  a  liberal  and  honourable 
man,  who  almost  rivalled  Rothschild  as  a  specu- 
lator, was  ruined  at  last  by  a  conspiracy.  Goldsmid, 
in  conjunction  with  a  banking  establishment,  had 
taken  a  large  Government  loan.  The  leaguers 
contrived  to  produce  from  the  collectors  and 
receivers  of  the  revenue  so  large  an  amount  of 
floating  securities — Exchequer  Bills  and  India 
Bonds — that  the  omnium  fell  to  18  discount. 
The  result  was  Goldsmid's  failure,  and  eventually 
his  suicide.  The  conspirators  purchased  omnium 
when  at  its  greatest  discount,  and  on  the  following 
day  it  went  up  to  3  premium,  being  then  a  profit 
of  about  ;2^2,ooo,ooo. 

Goldsmid  seems  to  have  been  a  kind-hearted 
man,  not  so  wholly  absorbed  in  speculation  and 
self  as  some  of  the  more  greedy  and  vulgar 
members  of  the  Stock  Exchange.  One  day  Mr. 
Goldsmid  observed  his  favourite  waiter  at  the  City 
of  London  Tavern  very  melancholy  and  abstracted. 
On  being  pressed,  John  confessed  that  he  had  just 


been  arrested  for  a  debt  of  ^^55,  and  that  he  was 
thinking  over  the  misery  of  his  wife  and  five 
children.  Goldsmid  instantly  drew  out  his  cheque- 
book, and  wrote  a  cheque  for  ;^ioo,  the  sight  of 
which  gladdened  poor  John's  heart  and  brought 
tears  into  his  eyes.  On  one  occasion,  after  a 
carriage  accident  in  Somersetshire,  Goldsmid  was 
carried  to  the  house  of  a  poor  curate,  and  there 
attended  for  a  fortnight  with  unremitting  kindness. 
Six  weeks  after  the  millionaire's  departure  a  letter 
came  from  Goldsmid  to  the  curate,  saying  that, 
having  contracted  for  a  large  Government  loan,  he 
(the  writer)  had  put  down  the  curate's  name  for 
;^2o,ooo  omnium.  The  poor  curate,  supposing 
some  great  outlay  was  expected  from  him  for  this 
share  in  the  loan,  -wrote  back  to  say  that  he  had 
not  ;!^2 0,000,  or  even  ;;^2o,  in  the  world.  By  the 
next  post  came  a  letter  enclosing  the  curate  ^j^  1,5 00, 
the  profit  on  selling  out  the  ;^2o,ooo  omnium,  the 
premium  having  risen  since  the  curate's  name  had 
been  put  down. 

The  vicissitudes  of  the  Stock  Exchange  are  like 
those  of  the  gambling-table.  A  story  is  related 
specially  illustrative  of  the  rapid  fortunes  made  in 
the  old  war-time,  when  the  funds  ran  up  and  down 
every  time  Napoleon  mounted  his  horse.  Mr.  F., 
afterwards  proprietor  of  one  of  the  largest  estates 
in  the  county  of  Middlesex,  had  lost  a  fortune  on 
the  Stock  Exchange,  and  had,  in  due  course,  been 
ruthlessly  gibbeted  on  the  cruel  black  board.  In  a 
frenzy,  as  he  passed  London  Bridge,  contemplating 
suicide,  F.  threw  the  last  shilling  he  had  in  the 
world  over  the  parapet  into  the  water.  Just  at 
that  moment  some  one  seized  him  by  the  hand. 
It  was  a  French  ensign.  He  was  full  of  a  great 
battle  that  had  been  fought  (Waterloo),  which  had 
just  annihilated  Bonaparte,  and  would  restore  the 
Bourbons.  The  French  ambassador  had  told  him 
only  an  hour  before.  A  gleam  of  hope,  turning  the 
black  board  white,  arose  before  the  miserable  man. 
He  hurried  off  to  a  firm  on  the  Stock  Exchange, 
and  offered  most  important  news  on  condition  that 
he  should  receive  half  of  whatever  profits  they 
might  realise  by  the  operation.  He  told  them  of 
Waterloo.  They  rushed  into  the  market,  and 
purchased  Consols  to  a  large  amount.  In  the 
meantime  F.,  sharpened  by  misfortune,  instantly 
proceeded  to  another  firm,  and  made  a  second 
offer,  which  was  also  accepted.  There  were  two 
partners,  and  the  keenest  of  them  whispered  the 
other  not  to  let  F.  out  of  his  sight,  while  he  sent 
brokers  to  purchase  Consols.  He  might  tell  some 
one  else.  Lunch  was  then  brought  in,  and  the  key 
turned  on  them.  Presently  the  partner  returned, 
red  and  seething,  from  the  Stock  Exchange.    Most 


486 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


tStock  Exchang*. 


unaccountably  Consols  had  gone  up  3  per  cent, 
and  lie  was  afraid  to  purchase.  But  F.  urged  the 
importance  of  the  victory,  and  declared  the  funds 
would  soon  rise  10  or  12  per  cent.  The  partners, 
persuaded,  made  immense  purchases.  The  day 
the  news  of  Waterloo  arrived  the  funds  rose  15 
per  cent,  the  greatest  rise  they  were  ever  known 
to  experience ;  and  F.'s  share  of  the  profits  from 
the  two  houses  in  one  day  exceeded  ^100,000. 
He  returned  next  day  to  tlie  Stock  Exchange,  and 
soon  amassed  a  large  fortune ;  he  then  wisely  pur- 
chased an  estate,  and  left  the  funds  alone  for  ever. 
Some  terrible  failures  occurred  in  the  Stock  Ex- 
change during  the  Spanish  panic  of  1835.  A  few 
facts  connected  with  this  disastrous  time  will  serve 
excellently  to  illustrate  the  effects  of  such  reactions 
among  the  speculators  in  stocks.  A  decline  of  20 
or  30  per  cent,  in  the  Peninsular  securities  within  a 
week  or  ten  days  ruined  many  of  the  members. 
They,  like  card  houses  in  a  puff  of  wind,  brought 
down  others ;  so  that  in  one  short  month  the  greater 
part  of  the  Stock  Exchange  had  fallen  into  diffi- 
culties. The  failure  of  principals  out  of  doors,  who 
had  large  differences  to  pay,  caused  much  of  this 
trouble  to  the  brokers.  Men  with  limited  means 
had  plunged  into  what  they  considered  a  certain 
speculation,  and  when  pay-day  arrived  and  the 
account  was  against  them,  they  were  obliged  to 
confess  their  inability  to  scrape  together  the  required 
funds.  For  instance,  at  the  time  Zumalacarregui 
was  expected  to  die,  a  principal,  a  person  who 
could  not  command  more  than  ^i^"!, 000,  "stood," 
as  the  Stock  Exchange  phrase  nms,  to  make  a  "  pot 
of  money  "  by  the  event.  He  speculated  heavily, 
and  had  the  Spanish  partisan  general  good-naturedly 
died  during  the  account,  the  commercial  gambler 
would  have  certainly  netted  nearly  ;;^4o,ooo.  The 
general,  however,  obstinately  delayed  his  death  till 
the  next  week,  and  by  that  time  the  speculator  was 
ruined,  and  all  he  had  sold.  INIany  of  the  dishonest 
speculators  whose  names  figured  on  the  black  board 
in  1835  had  been  "  bulls  "  of  Spanish  stock.  When 
the  market  gave  way  and  prices  fell,  the  principals 
attempted  to  put  off  the  evil  day,  says  a  writer  of 
the  period,  by  "carrying  over  instead  of  closing 
their  accounts."  The  weather,  however,  grew  only 
the  more  stormy,  and  at  last,  when  payment  could 
no  longer  be  evaded,  they  coolly  turned  round,  and 
with  brazen  faces  refused,  although  some  of  them 
were  able  to  adjust  the  balances  which  their  luckless 
brokers  exhibited  against  them.  Now  a  broker  is 
obliged  either  to  make  good  his  principal's  losses 
from  his  own  pocket,  or  be  declared  a  defaulter 
and  expelled  the  Stock  Exchange.  This  rule  often 
presses  heavily,  says  an  authority  on  the  subject,  on 


honest  but  not  over-opulent  brokers,  who  transact 
business  for  other  persons,  and  become  liable  if 
they  turn  out  either  insolvent  or  rogues.  Brokers 
are  in  most  cases  careful  in  the  choice  of  principals 
if  they  speculate  largely,  and  often  adopt  the  pru- 
dent and  very  justifiable  plan  of  having  a  certain 
amount  of  stock  deposited  in  their  "  strong  box " 
as  security  before  any  important  business  is  under- 
taken. Every  principal  who  dabbles  in  rickety 
stock  without  a  certain  reserve  as  a  security  is  set 
down  by  most  men  as  little  better  than  a  swindler. 

During  the  rumours  of  war  which  prevailed  in 
October,  1840,  shortly  before  the  fall  of  the  Thiers 
administration  in  France,  the  fluctuations  in  Consols 
were  as  much  as  4  per  cent.  The  result  was  great 
ruin  to  speculators.  The  speculators  for  the  rise — 
the  "  bulls,"  in  fact — of  ;^4oo,ooo  Consols  sustained 
a  loss  of  from  ;^i 0,000  to  ;:^i 5,000,  for  which 
more  than  one  broker  found  it  necessary,  for  sus- 
taining his  credit,  to  pay. 

The  railway  mania  produced  many  changes  in 
the  Stock  Exchange.  The  share  market,  which 
previously  had  been  occupied  by  only  four  or  five 
brokers  and  a  number  of  small  jobbers,  now  became 
a  focus  of  vast  business.  Certain  brokers,  it  is  said, 
made  ^3,000  or  ;!^4,ooo  a  day  by  their  business. 
One  fortunate  man  outside  the  house,  who  held 
largely  of  Churnett  Valley  scrip  before  the  sanction 
of  the  Board  of  Trade  was  procured,  sold  at  the 
best  price  directly  the  announcement  was  made,  and 
netted  by  that  coup  ;^27,ooo.  The  "  Alley  men  " 
wrote  letters  for  shares,  and  when  the  allotments 
were  obtained  made  some  los.  on  each  share. 
Some  of  these  "  dabblers  "  are  known  to  have  made 
only  fifty  farthings  of  fifty  shares  of  a  railway  now 
the  first  in  the  kingdom.  The  sellers  of  letters 
used  to  meet  in  the  Royal  Exchange  before  business 
hours,  till  the  beadle  had  at  last  to  drive  them  away 
to  make  room  for  the  merchants.  There  is  a  story 
told  of  an  "Alley  man"  during  the  mania  con- 
triving to  sell  some  rotten  shares  by  bowing  to  Sir 
Isaac  Goldsmid  in  the  presence  of  his  victim.  Sir 
Isaac  returned  the  bow,  and  the  victim  at  once 
believed  in  the  respectability  of  the  gay  deceiver. 

With  the  single  exception  of  Mr.  David  Ricardo, 
the  celebrated  political  economist,  says  Mr.  Grant, 
there   are   few   names  of  any  literary  distinction 
connected  with  the  Stock  Exchange.     Mr.  Ricardo 
is  said  to  have  amassed  his  immense  fortune  by  a 
scrupulous  attention  to  his  own  golden  rules  : — 
"  Never  refuse  an  option  when  you  can  get  it ; 
Cut  short  your  losses  ; 
Let  your  profits  run  on." 

By  the  second  rule,  which,  like  the  rest,  is  strictly 
technical,   Mr.  Ricardo  meant  that  purchasers   of 


Stock  Exchange.] 


RtCARDO'S  RULES. 


ON    CHANGE.    {From  an  Old  Print,  about  1800.     TJie  Figures  by  R  owl  and  son  ;  Architecture  by  Nash.) 


488 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Stack  Exchange. 


Stock  ought  to  re-sell  immediately  prices  fell.  By 
the  third  he  meant  that  when  a  person  held  stock 
and  prices  were  rising,  he  ought  not  to  sell  until 
prices  had  reached  their  highest,  and  were  beginning 
to  fall. 

Gentlemen  of  the  Stock  Exchange  are  rough 
with  intruders.  A  few  years  since,  says  a  writer 
in  the  City  Press,  an  excellent  clergyman  of  my 
acquaintance,  who  had  not  quite  mastered  the 
Christian  philosophy  of  turning  the  right  cheek  to 
those  who  smote  the  left,  had  business  in  the  City, 
and  being  anxious  to  see  his  broker,  strayed  into 
the  Stock  Exchange,  in  utter  ignorance  of  the  great 
liberty  he  was  committing.  Instantly  known  as 
an  interloper,  he  was  surrounded  and  hustled  by 
some  dozen  of  the  members.  "What  did  he 
want  ?"     "  How  dared  he  to  intrude  there  ?" 

"  I  wish  to  speak  with  a  member,  Mr.  A , 

and  was  not  aware  it  was  against  the  rules  to  enter 
the  building." 

"Then  we'll  make  you  aware  for  the  future," 
said  a  coarse  but  iron-fisted  jobber,  prepared  to 
suit  the  action  to  the  word. 

My  friend  disengaged  himself  as  far  as  possible, 
and  speaking  in  a  calm  but  authoritative  tone, 
said,  "Sirs,  I  am  quite  sure  you  do  not  mean 
to  insult,  in  my  person,  a  minister  of  the  Church 
of  England ;  but  take  notice,  the  first  man  who 
dares  to  molest  me  shall  feel  the  weight  of  my 
fist,  which  is  not  a  light  one.  Stand  by,  and  let 
me  leave  this  inhospitable  place."  They  did  stand 
by,  and  he  rushed  into  the  street  without  sustain- 
ing any  actual  violence. 

Practical  joking,  says  an  habitiie,  relieves  the  ex- 
citement of  this  feverish  gambling.  The  stock- 
brokers indulge  in  practical  jokes  which  would  be 
hardly  excusable  in  a  schoolboy.  No  member  can 
wear  a  new  hat  in  the  arena  of  bulls  and  bears 
without  being  tormented,  and  his  chapeau  irre- 
coverably spoiled.  A  new  coat  cannot  be  worn 
without  peril ;  it  is  almost  certain  to  be  ticketed 
'*  Moses  and  Son — dear  at  i8s.  6d."  The  pounce- 
box  is  a  formidable  missile,  and  frequently  nearly 
blinds  the  unwary.  As  P.  passes  K.'s  desk,  the  latter 
slily  extends  his  foot  in  order  to  trip  him  up ;  ahd 
when  K.  rises  from  his  stool,  he  finds  his  coat-tail 
pinned  to  the  cushion,  and  is  likely  to  lose  a 
portion  of  it  before  he  is  extricated.  Yet  these 
men  are  capable  of  extreme  liberality.  Some 
years  ago  knocking  off  hats  and  chalking  one 
another's  backs  was  a  favourite  amusement  on  the 
Stock  Exchange,  as  a  vent  for  surplus  excitement, 
and  on  the  5th  of  November  a  cart-load  of  crackers 
was  let  off  during  the  day,  to  the  destruction  of 
coats.      The  cry  when  a  stranger  is  detected  is 


"  Fourteen  hundred,"  and  the  usual  test  question 
is,  "Will  you  purchase  any  new  Navy  Five  per 
Cents.,  sir?"  The  moment  after  a  rough  hand 
drives  the  novice's  hat  over  his  nose,  and  he  is 
spun  from  one  to  another ;  his  co^t-tails  are  often 
torn  off,  and  he  is  then  jostled  into  the  street. 
There  have  been  cases,  however,  where  the  jobbers 
have  caught  a  Tartar,  who,  after  half-strangling  one 
and  knocking  down  two  or  three  more,  has  fairly 
fought  his  way  out,  pretty  well  unscathed,  all  but 
his  hat. 

The  amount  of  business  done  at  the  Stock 
Exchange  in  a  day  is  enormous.  In  a  few  hours 
property,  including  time  bargains,  to  the  amount 
of  ;^io,ooo,ooo,  has  changed  hands.  Rothschild 
is  known  in  one  day  to  have  made  purchases  to 
the  extent  of  ;^4,ooo,ooo.  This  great  speculator 
never  appeared  on  the  Stock  Exchange  himself,  and 
on  special  occasions  he  always  employed  a  new 
set  of  brokers  to  buy  or  sell.  The  boldest  attempt 
ever  made  to  overthrow  the  power  of  Rothschild 
in  the  money  market  was  that  made  by  a  Mr.  H. 
He  was  the  son  of  a  wealthy  country  banker,  with 
money-stock  in  his  own  name,  though  it  was  really 
his  father's,  to  the  extent  of  ;;^5 0,000.  He  began 
by  buying,  as  openly  as  possible,  and  selling  out 
again  to  a  woxy  large  amount  in  a  very  short  period 
of  time.  About  this  time  Consols  were  as  high  as 
96  or  97,  and  there  were  signs  of  a  coming  panic. 
Mr.  H.  determined  to  depress  the  market,  and 
carry  on  war  against  Rothschild,  the  leader  of 
the  "bulls."  He  now  struck  out  a  bold  game. 
He  bought  ^^200,000  in  Consols  at  96,  and  at 
once  offered  any  part  of  ;^ioo,ooo  at  94,  and  at 
once  found  purchasers.  He  then  offered  more  at 
93,  92,  and  eventually  as  low  as  90.  The  next 
day  he  brought  them  down  to  74;  a  run  on  the 
Bank  of  England  began,  which  almost  exhausted  it 
of  its  specie.  He  then  purchased  to  a  large  extent, 
so  that  when  the  reaction  took  place,  the  daring 
adventurer  found  his  gains  had  exceeded  ^^  100,000. 
Two  years  after  he  had  another  "  operation,"  but 
Rothschild,  guessing  hrs  plan,  laid  a  trap,  into 
which  he  fell,  and  the  day  after  his  name  was  up 
on  the  black  board.  It  was  then  discovered  that 
the  original  ;^5 0,000  money-stock  had  been  in 
reality  his  father's.  A  deputation  from  the  com- 
mittee waited  upon  Mr.  H.  immediately  after  his 
failure,  and  quietly  suggested  to  him  an  immediate 
sale  of  his  furniture  and  the  mortgage  of  an  annuity 
settled  on  his  wife.  He,  furious  at  this,  rang  the 
bell  for  his  footman,  and  ordered  him  to  show  the 
deputation  down  stairs.  He  swore  at  the  treat- 
ment that  he  had  received,  and  said,  "As  for 
you,  you  vagabond,  *  My  son  Jack'  (the  nickname 


Stock  Exchange.1 


LAWS  OF  THE  STOCK  EXCHANGE. 


489 


of  the  spokesman),  who  has  had  the  audacity  to 
make  me  such  a  proposal,  if  you  don't  hurr>'  down 
stairs  I'll  pitch  you  out  of  window." 

Nicknames  are  of  frequent  occurrence  on  the 
Stock  Exchange,  "  My  son  Jack''  we  have  just 
mentioned.  Another  was  known  as  "The  Lady's 
Broker,"  in  consequence  of  being  employed  in  an 
unfortunate  speculation  by  a  lady  who  had  ven- 
tured without  the  knowledge  of  her  husband. 
The  husband  refused  to  pay  a  farthing,  and  the 
broker,  to  save  himself  from  the  black  board, 
divulged  the  name  of  the  lady  who  was  unable 
to  meet  her  obligations. 

It  is  a  fact  not  generally  known,  says  a  writer  on 
the  subject,  that  by  one  of  the  regulations  of  the 
Stock  Exchange,  any  person  purchasing  stock  in 
the  funds,  or  any  of  the  public  companies,  has  a 
right  to  demand  of  the  seller  as  many  transfers  as 
there  are  even  thousand  pounds  in  the  amount 
bought.  Suppose,  for  instance,  that  any  person 
were  to  purchase  ^,^1 0,000  stock,  then,  instead  of 
having  the  whole  made  over  to  him  by  one  ticket 
of  transfer,  he  has  a  right  to  demand,  if  he  so 
pleases,  ten  separate  transfers  from  the  party  or 
parties  of  whom  he  purchased. 

The  descriptions  of  English  stock  which  are 
least  generally  understood  are  scrip  and  omnium. 
Scrip  means  the  receipt  for  any  instalment  or  in- 
stalments which  may  have  been  paid  on  any  given 
amount  which  has  been  purchased  on  any  Govern- 
ment loan.  This  receipt,  or  scrip,  is  marketable, 
the  party  purchasing  it,  either  at  a  premium  or 
discount,  as  the  case  chances  to  be,  becoming  of 
course  bound  to  pay  up  the  remainder  of  the 
instalments,  on  pain  of  forfeiting  the  money  he  has 
given  for  it.  Omnium  means  the  various  kinds 
of  stock  in  which  a  loan  is  absorbed,  or,  to  make 
the  thing  still  more  intelligible,  a  person  purchasing 
a  certain  quantity  of  omnium,  purchases  given 
proportions  of  the  various  descriptions  of  Govern- 
ment securities. 

Bargains  made  one  day  are  always  checked 
the  following  day,  by  the  parties  themselves  or 
their  clerks.  This  is  done  by  calling  over  their 
respective  books  one  against  another.  In  most 
transactions  what  is  called  an  option  is  given,  by 
mutual  consent,  to  each  party.  This  is  often  of 
great  importance  to  the  speculator.  It  is  said  that 
the  business  at  the  Stock  Exchange  is  illegal,  since 
an  unrepealed  Act  of  Parliament  exists  which 
directs  all  buying  and  selling  of  Bank  securities 
shall  take  place  in  the  Rotunda  of  the  Bank, 

There  are  about  1,700  members  of  the  Stock 
Exchange,  who  pay  twelve  guineas  a  year  each. 
The  election  of  members    is    always   by  ballot, 


and  every  applicant  must  be  recommended  by 
three  persons,  who  have  been  members  of  the 
house  for  at  least  two  years.  Each  recommender 
must  engage  to  pay  the  sum  of  ;^5oo  to  the 
candidate's  creditors  in  case  any  such  candidate 
should  become  a  defaulter,  either  in  the  Stock 
Exchange  or  the  Foreign  Stock  market,  within  two 
years  from  the  date  of  his  admission.  A  foreigner 
must  have  been  resident  in  the  United  Kingdom 
for  five  years  previous,  unless  he  is  recommended 
by  five  members  of  the  Stock  Exchange,  each  of 
whom  becomes  security  for  ;^3oo.  The  candidate 
must  not  enter  into  partnership  with  any  of  his 
recommenders  for  two  years  after  his  admission, 
unless  additional  security  be  provided,  and  one 
partner  cannot  recommend  another.  Bill  and  dis- 
count brokers  are  excluded  from  the  Stock  Ex- 
change, says  the  same  writer,  and  no  applicant's 
wife  can  be  engaged  in  any  sort  of  business.  No 
applicant  who  has  been  a  bankrupt  is  eligible  until 
two  years  after  he  has  obtained  his  certificate,  or 
fulfilled  the  conditions  of  his  deed  of  composition, 
or  unless  he  has  paid  6s.  8d.  in  the  pound.  No 
one  who  has  been  twice  bankrupt  is  eligible  unless 
on  the  same  very  improbable  condition. 

If  a  member  makes  any  bargains  before  or 
after  the  regular  business  hours — ten  to  four — the 
bargain  is  not  recognised  by  the  committee.  No 
bonds  can  be  returned  as  imperfect  after  three  days' 
detention.  If  a  member  comes  to  private  terms 
with  his  creditors,  he  is  put  upon  the  black  board 
of  the  Exchange  as  a  defaulter,  and  expelled.  A 
further  failure  can  be  condoned  for,  after  six 
months'  exile,  provided  the  member  pays  at  least 
one-third  of  any  loss  that  may  have  occurred  on 
his  speculations.  For  dishonourable  conduct  the 
committee  can  also  chalk  up  a  member's  name. 

It  is  said  that  a  member  of  the  Stock  Exchange 
who  fails  and  gives  up  his  last  farthing  to  his 
creditors  is  never  thought  as  well  of  as  the  man 
who  takes  care  to  keep  a  reserve,  in  order  to  step 
back  again  into  business.  For  instance,  a  stock- 
broker once  lost  on  one  account;^  10, 000,  and  paid 
the  whole  without  a  murmur.  Being,  however, 
what  is  called  on  the  Stock  Exchange  "  a  little 
man,"  he  never  again  recovered  his  credit,  it  being 
suspected  that  his  back  was  irretrievably  broken. 

But  a  still  more  striking  and  very  interesting 
illustration  of  the  estimation  in  which  sterling  inte- 
grity is  held  among  a  large  proportion  of  the  mem- 
bers was  afforded  (says  Mr.  Grant)  in  the  case  of 
the  late  Mr.  L.  A.  de  la  Chaumette.  a  gentleman 
of  foreign  extraction.  He  had  previously  been  in 
the  Manchester  trade,  but  had  been  unfortunate. 
Being  a  man    much   respected,  and  extensively 


49° 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Stock  Ejcchange. 


known,  his  friends  advised  him  to  go  on  the 
Stock  Exchange.  He  adopted  their  advice,  and 
became  a  member.  He  at  once  estabHshed  an 
excellent  business  as  a  broker.  Not  only  did  he 
make  large  sums,  in  the  shape  of  commissions  on 
the  transactions  in  which  he  was  emplo3'ed  by 
others,  but  one  of  the  largest  mercantile  houses  in 
London,  having  the  highest  possible  opinion  of  his 
judgment  and  integrity,  entrusted  him  Avith  the  sole 
disposal  of  an  immense  sum  of  money  belonging 
to  the  French  refugees,  which  was  in  their  hands 
at  the  time.  He  contrived  to  employ  this  money 
so  advantageously,  both  to  his  constituents  and 
himself,  that  he  acquired  a  handsome  fortune. 
Before  he  had  been  a  member  three  years,  he  in- 
vited his  creditors  to  dine  with  him  on  a  particular 
day  at  the  London  Tavern,  but  concealed  from 
them  the  particular  object  he  had  in  view  in  so 
doing.  On  entering  the  room,  they  severally  found 
their  own  names  on  the  different  plates,  which  were 
reversed,  and  on  turning  them  up,  each  found  a 
cheque  for  the  amount  due  to  him,  with  interest. 
The  entire  sum  which  Mr.  L.  A.  de  la  Chaumette 
paid  away  on  this  occasion,  and  in  this  manner, 
was  ui)wards  of  ;^3o,ooo.  Next  day,  he  went  into 
the  house  as  usual,  and  such  was  the  feeling  enter- 
tained of  his  conduct,  that  many  members  refused 
to  do  a  bargain  with  him  to  the  extent  of  a  single 
thousand.  They  looked  on  his  payment  of  the 
claims  of  his  former  creditors  as  a  foolish  affair, 
and  fancied  that  he  might  have  exhausted  his 
resources,  never  dreaming  that,  even  if  he  had,  a 
man  of  such  honourable  feeling  and  upright  prin- 
ciple was  worthy  of  credit  to  any  amount.  He 
eventually  died  worth  upwards  of  ^500,000. 

The  locality  of  the  Stock  Exchange  (says  the 
author  of  "  The  Great  Babylon,"  probably  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Croly)'  is  well  chosen,  being  at  a  point  where 
intelligence  from  the  Bank  of  England,  the  Royal 
Exchange,  and  the  different  coffee-houses  where 
private  letters  from  abroad  are  received,  may  be 
obtained  in  a  few  minutes,  and  thus  "news  from 
all  nations"  may  be  very  speedily  manufactured 
with  an  air  of  authenticity.  One  wide  portal  gapes 
toward  the  Bank,  in  Bartholomew  Lane ;  and  there 
is  a  sally-port  into  Threadneedle  Street,  for  those 
who  do  not  wish  to  be  seen  entering  or  emerging 
the  other  way.  From  the  dull  and  dingy  aspect 
of  these  approaches,  which,  it  seems,  cannot  be 
whitened,  one  could  form  no  guess  at  the  mighty 
deeds  of  the  place ;  and  when  the  hourly  quotations 
of  the  price  of  stocks  are  the  same,  the  place  is 
silent,  and  only  a  few  individuals,  with  faces  which 
grin  but  cannot  smile,  are  seen  crawling  in  and  out, 
or  standing  yawning  in  the  court,  with  their  hands 


in  their  breeches'  pockets.  If,  however,  the  quota- 
tions fluctuate,  and  the  Royal  Exchange,  where 
most  of  the  leading  men  of  the  money  market 
lounge,  be  full  of  bustling  and  rumours,  and  espe- 
cially if  characters,  with  eyes  like  basilisks,  and 
faces  lined  and  surfaced  like  an  asparagus  bed  ere 
the  plants  come  up,  be  ever  and  anon  darting  in  at 
the  north  door  of  the  Royal  Exchange,  bounding 
toward  the  chief  priests  of  Mammon,  like  pith  balls 
to  the  conductor  of  an  electric  machine,  and,  when 
they  have  "  got  their  charge,"  bounding  away  again, 
then  you  may  be  sure  that  the  Stock  Exchange  is 
worth  seeing,  if  it  could  be  seen  with  comfort,  or 
even  with  safety.  At  those  times,  however,  a 
stranger  might  as  well  jump  into  a  den  of  lions,  or 
throw  himself  into  the  midst  of  a  herd  of  famishing 
wolves. 

Among  the  various  plans  adopted  for  securing 
early  intelligence  for  Stock  Exchange  purposes 
before  the  invention  of  the  telegraph,  none  proved 
more  successful  than  that  of  "pigeon  expresses." 
Till  about  the  beginning  of  the  century  the  ordinary 
courier  brought  the  news  from  the  Continent ;  and  it 
was  only  the  Rothschilds,  and  one  or  two  other  im- 
portant firms,  that "  ran  "  intelligence,  in  anticipation 
of  the  regular  French  mail.  However,  many  years 
ago,  the  project  was  conceived  of  establishing  a  com- 
munication between  London  and  Paris  by  means  of 
pigeons,  and  in  the  course  of  two  years  it  was  in 
complete  operation.  The  training  of  tlie  birds  took 
considerable  time  before  they  could  be  relied  on  ; 
and  the  relays  and  organisation  required  to  perfect 
the  scheme  not  only  involved  a  vast  expenditure  of 
time,  but  also  of  money.  In  tlie  first  place,  to 
make  the  communication  of  use  on  both  sides  of 
the  Channel,  it  was  necessary  to  get  two  distinct 
establishments  for  the  flight  of  the  pigeons — one  in 
England  and  another  in  France.  It  was  then  neces- 
sary that  persons  in  whom  reliance  could  be  placed 
should  be  stationed  in  the  two  capitals,  to  be  in 
readiness  to  receive  or  dispatch  the  birds  that 
might  bring  or  carry  the  intelligence,  and  make  it 
available  for  the  parties  interested.  Hence  it 
became  almost  evident  that  one  speculator,  without 
he  was  a  very  wealthy  man,  could  not  hope  to  sup- 
port a  pigeon  "express."  The  consequence  was, 
that,  the  jjroject  being  mooted,  two  or  three  of  the 
speculators,  including  brokers  of  the  house,  them- 
selves joined,  and  worked  it  for  their  o\vn  benefit. 
Through  this  medium  several  of  the  dealers  rapidly 
made  large  sums  of  money;  but  the  trade  be- 
came less  profitable,  because  the  success  of  the 
first  operators  induced  others  to  follow  the  example 
of  establishing  this  species  of  communication. 
The    cost   of   keeping   a    "pigeon    express"   has 


Stock  Exchange.] 


''PIGEON   MEN." 


491 


been  estimated  at  ;^6oo  or  ;^7oo  a  year;  but 
whether  this  amount  was  magnified,  with  the  view  of 
deterring  others  from  venturing  into  the  speculation, 
is  a  question  which  never  seems  to  have  been  pro- 
perly explained.  It  is  stated  that  the  daily  papers 
availed  themselves  of  the  news  brought  by  these 
"  expresses ;"  but,  in  consideration  of  allowing  the 
speculators  to  read  the  despatches  first,  the  pro- 
prietors, it  is  said,  bore  but  a  minimum  propor- 
tion of  the  expense.  The  birds  generally  used  were 
of  the  Antwerp  breed,  strong  in  the  wing,  and  fully 
feathered.  The  months  in  which  they  were  chiefly 
worked  were  the  latter  end  of  May,  June,  July, 
August,  and  the  beginning  of  September;  and, 
though  the  news  might  not  be  always  of  importance, 
a  communication  was  generally  kept  up  daily  be- 
tween London  and  Paris  in  this  manner. 

In  1837-38-39,  and  1840,  a  great  deal  of  money 
was  made  by  the  "pigeon  men,"  as  the  speculators 
supposed  to  have  possession  of  such  intelligence 
were  familiarly  termed ;  and  their  appearance  in  the 
market  was  always  indicative  of  a  rise  or  fall, 
according  to  the  tendency  of  their  operations. 
Having  the  first  chance  of  buying  or  selling,  they, 
of  course,  had  the  market  for  a  while  in  their  own 
hands ;  but  as  time  progressed,  and  it  was  found 
that  the  papers,  by  their  "  second  editions,"  would 
communicate  the  news,  the  general  brokers  refused 
to  do  business  till  the  papers  reached  the  City. 
The  pigeons  bringing  the  news  occasionally  got  shot 
on  their  passage ;  but,  as  a  flock  of  some  eight  or  a 
dozen  were  usually  started  at  a  time,  miscarriage 
was  not  of  frequent  occurrence.  At  the  time  of  the 
death  of  Mr.  Rothschild,  one  was  caught  at  Brighton, 
having  been  disabled  by  a  gun-shot  wound,  and 
beneath  the  shoulder-feathers  of  the  left  wing  was 
discovered  a  small  note,  with  the  words  "II  est 
mort,"  followed  by  a  number  of  hieroglyphics. 
Each  pigeon  had  a  method  of  communication  en- 
tirely their  own ;  and  the  conductors,  if  they  fancied 
the  key  to  it  was  in  another  person's  power,  imme- 
diately varied  it.  A  case  of  this  description  occurred 
worth  noting.  The  parties  interested  in  the  scheme 
fancied  that,  however  soon  they  received  intelli- 
gence, there  were  others  in  the  market  who  were 
quite  equal  with  them.  In  order  to  arrive  at  the 
real  state  of  affairs,  the  chief  proprietor  consented, 
at  the  advice  of  a  friend,  to  pay  ;^io  for  the  early 
perusal  of  a  supposed  rival's  "pigeon  express." 
The  "  express  "  came  to  hand,  he  read  it,  and  was 
not  a  little  surprised  to  find  that  he  was  in  reality 
paying  for  the  perusal  of  his  own  news  !  The  truth 
soon  came  out.  Somebody  had  bribed  the  keepers 
I  of  his  pigeons,  who  were  thus  not  only  making  a 
profit  by  the  sale  of  his  inteUigence,  but  also  on  the 


speculations  they  in  consequence  conduoted.  The 
defect  was  soon  remedied  by  changing  the  style  of 
characters  employed,  and  all  went  right  as  before. 

When  a  defalcation  takes  place  in  the  Stock 
Exchange  (says  a  City  writer  of  1845),  the  course 
pursued  is  as  follows  : — At  the  commencement  of 
the  "  settling  day,"  should  a  broker  or  jobber — 
the  one  through  the  default  of  his  principals,  and 
the  other  in  consequence  of  unsuccessful  specula- 
tions— find  a  heavy  balance  on  the  wrong  side  of 
his  accounts,  which  he  is  unfortunately  unable  to 
settle,  and  should  an  attempt  to  get  the  assistance 
from  friends  prove  unavailing,  he  must  fail.  Ex- 
cluded from  the  house,  the  scene  of  his  past  labours 
and  speculations,  he  dispatches  a  short  but  un- 
important communication  to  the  committee  of  the 
Stock  Exchange.  The  other  members  of  the 
institution  being  all  assembled  in  the  market, 
busied  in  arranging  and  settling  their  accounts, 
some  of  them,  interested  parties,  become  nervous 

and  fidgety  at  the  non-appearance  of  Mr. 

(the  defaulter  in  question).  The  doubt  is  soon 
explained,  for  the  porter  stationed  at  the  door 
suddenly  gives  three  loud  and  distinctly  repeated 

knocks  with  a  mallet,  and  announces  that  Mr. 

presents  his  respects  to  the  house,  and  regrets  to 
state  that  he  is  unable  to  comply  with  his  "  bar- 
gains " — Anglice,  to  fulfil  his  engagements. 

Visit  Bartholomew  Lane  at  any  time  of  the  year, 
says  a  City  %vriter,  and  you  will  be  sure  to  find 
several  people  of  shabby  exterior  holding  converse 
at  the  entrance  of  Capel  Court,  or  on  the  steps  of 
the  auction  mart.  These  are  the  *•  Alley  men."  You 
will  see  one,  perhaps,  take  from  his  pocket  a  good- 
sized  parcel  of  dirty-backed  letters,  all  arranged,  and 
tied  round  with  string  or  red  tape,  which  he  sorts 
with  as  much  care  and  attention  as  if  they  were 
bank-notes.  That  parcel  is  his  stock-in-trade.  Per- 
haps those  letters  may  contain  the  allotment  of 
shares,  in  various  companies,  to  an  amount,  if  the 
capital  subscribed  was  paid,  of  many  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  pounds. 

To  describe  fairly  the  "Alley  man,"  we  must 
take  him  from  the  first  of  his  career.  He  is 
generally  some  broken-down  clerk  or  tradesman, 
who,  having  lost  every  prospect  of  life,  chooses 
this  description  of  business  as  a  dernier  ressort. 
First  started  in  his  calling,  he  associates  with  the 
loiterers  at  the  Stock  Exchange,  where,  by  mixing 
with  them,  and  perhaps  making  the  acquaintance 
through  the  introduction  of  Sir  John  Barleycorn, 
at  the  tap  of  a  tavern,  he  is  initiated  by  degrees 
into  the  secrets  of  the  business,  and,  perhaps, 
before  long,  becomes  as  great  an  adept  in  the 
sale  or  purchase  of  letters  as  the  oldest  man  on 


492 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


r Stock  Exchange. 


the  walk.  When  he  has  acquired  the  necessary 
information  respecting  dealing,  he  can  commence 
letter-writing  for  shares.  This  is  effected  at  the  ex- 
pense of  a  penny  only  for  postage,  pen  and  ink 
being  always  attainable,  either  in  the  tavern-parlour 
or  coffee-house  he  frequents.  When  a  new  company 
comes  out,  and  is  advertised,  he  immediately  calls 
for  a  form  of  application,  fills  it  up,  and  dispatches 
it,  with  the  moderate  request  to  be  allotted  one 
hundred  or  two  hundred  shares,  the  amount  of  call 


will  suppose  the  price  to  be  80^,  that  is,  ;^8o  2s.  6d. 
sterling  for  ;^ioo  stock.  Upon  my  asking  the 
price  of  the  Four  per  Cents.,  the  answer  probably 
is,  "  Buyers  at  an  eighth,  and  sellers  at  a  quarter;" 
that  is,  the  jobbers  who  either  buy  or  sell  will 
have  the  turn,  or  \.  Now  if  I  leave  the  purchase 
to  a  broker,  he  probably  gives,  without  the  least 
hesitation,  8o|,  because  he  may  have  a  friendly 
turn  to  make  to  his  brother  broker,  for  a  similar 
act  of  kindness  the  preceding  day.     Well,  but  I  do 


1 


\ 


INNER  COURT   OF  THE    FIRST  ROYAL    EXCUANOli.      [,Set  page  d,%). 


or  share  being  quite  immaterial  to  him,  as  he  never 
intends  to  pay  upon  or  keep  them,  his  only  ami 
being  to  increase  his  available  stock  of  letters,  so 
that  he  can  make  a  "  deal,"  and  pocket  the  profit, 
should  they  have  a  jjrice  among  the  fraternity. 

The  purchase  of  stock  is  thus  described  by  an 
habitic'e.  "  Suppose  I  went,"  he  says,  "to  buy  ;^ioo 
stock  in  the  Four  per  Cents.  I  soon  know  whether 
the  funds  are  better,  or  worse,  or  steady ;  for  this 
is  the  language  of  the  place.  If  they  are  better, 
they  are  on  the  rise  from  the  preceding  day;  if 
worse,  they  are  lower  than  on  that  day ;  if  steady, 
they  have  not  fluctuated  at  all,  or  very  little.  To 
render  the  matter  as  intelligible  as  possible,   we 


not  leave  the  purchase  to  a  broker ;  I  manage  it 
myself.  I  direct  my  broker  to  buy  me  ^100 
stock  at  8o|.  He  takes  my  name,  profession, 
and  place  of  residence  ;  he  then  makes  a  purchase, 
and  the  seller  of  the  stock  transfers  it  to  me,  my 
heirs,  assigns,  &c.,  and  makes  his  signature.  On 
the  same  leaf  of  the  same  book  in  which  the 
transfer  is  made  to  me,  there  is  a  form  of  accept- 
ance of  the  stock  transferred  to  me,  and  to  which 
I  also  put  my  signature;  the  clerk  then  witnesses 
the  receipt,  and  the  whole  business  is  done.  The 
seller  of  the  stock  gives  me  the  receipt,  with  his 
signature  to  it,  which  I  may  keep  till  I  receive  a 
dividend,   when   it   is   no   longer  any   use.      Ihe 


Stock  Exchange.] 


STOCK-EXCHANGE  CELEBRITIES. 


493 


payment  of  the  dividend  is  an  acknowledgment  of 
my  right  to  the  stock ;  and  therefore  the  receipt 
then  becomes  useless." 

The  usual  commission  charged  by  a  broker  is 
one-eighth  (2s.  6d.)  per  cent,  upon  the  stock  sold  or 
purchased;  although  of  late  years  the  charge  has 
often  been  reduced  fifty  per  cent.,  especially  in 
speculators'  charges,  a  reduction  ascribed  to  the 


The  Stock  Exchange  has  numbered  amongst  its 
subscribers  some  valuable  members  of  society, 
including  David  Ricardo  and  several  of  his  descen- 
dants, Francis  Baily  the  astronomer,  and  many 
others,  down  to  Charles  Stokes,  F.R.S.,  not  long 
ago  deceased.  Horace  Smith  and  the  author  of  the 
"  Last  of  the  Plantagenets " — ihimself  in  his  pros- 
perity a  munificent  patron  of  literature — also  for  a 


SIR  THOMAS  GRESHAM. 


influx  into  the  market  of  a  body  of  brokers  who 
will  "do  business"  almost  for  nothing,  provided 
they  can  procure  customers.  The  broker  deals  with 
the  "  jobbers,"  a  class  of  members,  or  "middle-men," 
who  remain  stationary  in  the  stock  market,  ready 
to  act  upon  the  orders  received  from  brokers. 

There  is,  moreover,  a  fund  subscribed  by  the 
members  for  their  decayed  associates,  the  invested 
capital  of  which,  exclusive  of  annual  contributions, 
amounts  to  upwards  of  ^30,000. 
42 


long  time  enlivened  its  precincts.  The  writer  of 
the  successful  play  of  ""The  Templar,"  and  other 
elegant  productions,  was  one  of  the  body. 

The  managers,  in  1854,  expended  about  ;,£"6,ooo 
in  securing  additional  space  for  the  Stock  Exchange 
prior  to  the  commencement  of  the  works,  and  the 
contract  was  taken  at  ;^i  0,400,  some  subsequent 
alterations  respecting  ventilation  having  caused  the 
amount  to  be  already  exceeded. 

The  fabric  belongs  to  a  private  company,  con- 


494 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Royal  Exchange. 


sisting  of  400  shareholders,  and  the  shares  were 
originally  of  ^$0  each,  but  are  now  of  uncertain 
amount,  the  last  addition  being  a  call  of  ^2$  per 
share,  made  for  the  construction  of  the  new  edifice. 
The  affairs  of  this  company  are  conducted  under 
a  cumbersome  and  restrictive  deed  of  settlement, 
by  nine  "  managers,"  elected  for  Hfe  by  the  share- 
holders, no  election  taking  place  till  there  are  four 
vacancies.  The  members  or  subscribers,  however, 
entirely  conduct  their  own  affairs  by  a  committee 
of  thirty  of  their  o^\^l  body.  Neither  members 
nor  committee  are  elected  for  more  than  one 
year. 

The  number  of  members  at  present  exceeds  1,700. 
The  subscription  is  paid  to  the  "  managers,"  who 
liquidate  all  expenses,  and  adopt  alterations  in 
the  building,  upon  the  representations  of  the  com- 
mittee of  the  members,  or  even  on  the  application 


of  the  subscribers.  Of  the  400  shares  mentioned 
above,  the  whole,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  are 
held  by  the  members  themselves.  No  one  person 
is  allowed  to  hold,  directly  or  indirectly,  more  than 
four. 

The  present  building  stands  in  the  centre  of  the 
block  of  buildings  fronting  Bartholomew  Lane, 
Threadneedle  Street,  Old  Broad  Street,  and  Throg- 
morton  Street.  The  principal  entrance  is  from  Bar- 
tholomew Lane  through  Capel  Court.  There  are 
also  three  entrances  from  Throgmorton  Street,  and 
one  from  Threadneedle  Street.  The  area  of  the 
new  house  is  about  75  square  yards,  and  it  would 
contain  1,100  or  1,200  members.  There  are,  how- 
ever, seldom  more  than  half  that  number  present. 
The  site  is  very  irregular,  and  has  enforced  some 
peculiar  construction  in  covering  it,  into  whicli 
iron  enters  largely. 


CHAPTER   XLIL 
THE    ROYAL    EXCHANGE. 

Tlic  Creshams— Important  Negotiations — Building  of  the  Old  Exchange— Queen  Elizabeth  visits  it— Its  Milliners'  Shops — A  Resort  for  Idlers- 
Access  of  Nuisances — The  various  Walks  in  the  Exchange— Shakespeare's  Visits  to  it — Precautions  against  Fire —Lady  Grcsham  and  the 
Council— The  "  Eye  of  London" — Contemporary  Allusions — The  Royal  Exchange  during  Ihe  Plague  and  the  Great  Fire — Wren's  Design 
for  a  New  Royal  Exchange— The  Plan  which  was  ultimately  accepted— Addison  and  Steele  upon  the  Exchange — ^The  Shops  of  the  Second 
Exchange. 


In  the  year  1563  Sir  Thomas  Greshara,  a  munifi- 
cent merchant  of  Lombard  Street,  who  traded 
largely  with  Antwerp,  carrying  out  a  scheme  of  his 
father,  offered  the  City  to  erect  a  Bourse  at  his 
own  expense,  if  they  would  provide  a  suitable 
plot  of  ground ;  the  great  merchant's  local  pride 
having  been  hurt  at  seeing  Antwerp  provided  with 
a  stately  Exchange,  and  London  without  one. 

A  short  sketch  of  the  Gresham  family  is  here 
necessary,  to  enable  us  to  understand  the  ante- 
cedents of  this  great  benefactor  of  London.  The 
family  derived  its  name  from  Gresham,  a  litde 
•village  in  Norfolk ;  and  one  of  the  early  Greshams 
appears  to  have  been  clerk  to  Sir  William  Paston, 
a  judge.  The  family  afterwards  removed  to  Holt, 
near  the  sea.  John  Gresham  married  an  heiress, 
by  whom  he  had  four  sons,  William,  Thomas, 
Richard,  and  John.  Thomas  became  Chancellor  of 
Lichfield,  the  other  three  brothers  turned  merchants, 
and  two  of  them  were  knighted  by  Henry  VIII. 
Sir  Richard,  the  father  of  Sir  Thomas  Gresham, 
was  an  eminent  London  merchant,  elected  Lord 
Mayor  in  1537.  Being  a  trusty  foreign  agent  of 
Henry  VII.,  and  a  friend  of  Cromwell  and 
Wolsey,  he  received  from  the  king  five   several 


gifts  of  church  lands.  Sir  Richard  died  at  Bethna\ 
Green,  1548-9.  He  was  buried  in  the  church  of 
St.  LawTence  Jewry.  Thomas  Gresham  Avas  sent 
to  Gonvillc  College,  Cambridge,  and  apprenticed 
probably  before  that  to  his  uncle  Sir  John,  a  Levant 
merchant,  for  eight  years.  In  1543  we  find  the 
young  merchant  applying  to  Margaret,  Regent  of 
the  Low  Countries,  for  leave  to  export  gunpowder 
to  England  for  King  Henry,  who  was  then  pre- 
paring for  his  attack  on  France,  and  the  siege  of 
Boulogne.  In  1554  Gresham  married  the  daughter 
of  a  Suffolk  gentleman,  and  the  widow  of  a  London 
mercer.  By  her  he  had  several  children,  none  of 
whom,  however,  reached  maturity. 

It  was  in  1551  or  1552  that  Gresham's  real 
fortune  commenced,  by  his  appointment  as  king's 
merchant  factor,  or  agent,  at  Antwerp,  to  raise 
private  loans  from  German  and  Low  Country  mer- 
chants to  meet  the  royal  necessities,  and  to  keep 
the  privy  council  informed  in  the  local  news.  The 
wise  factor  borrowed  in  his  own  name,  and  soon 
raised  the  exchange  from  1 6s,  Flemish  for  the  pound 
sterling  to  22s.,  at  which  rate  he  discharged  all  the 
king's  debts,  and  made  money  plentiful.  He  says, 
in  a  letter  to  the  Duke  'of  Northumberland,  that 


Royal  Exchange.  1 


THE  GRESHAMS. 


495 


he  hoped  in  one  year  to  save  England  ^20,000. 
It  being  forbidden  to  export  further  from  Antwerp, 
Gresham  had  to  resort  to  various  stratagems,  and 
ii^  1553  (Queen  Mary)  we  find  him  writing  to  the 
Privy  Council,  proposing  to  send  ;^2oo  (in  heavy 
Spanish  rials),  in  bags  of  pepper,  four  at  a  time, 
and  the  English  ambassador  at  Brussels  was  to 
bring  over  with  him  ;^2o,ooo  or  ;!^3o,ooo,  but  he 
afterwards  changed  his  mind,  and  sent  the  money 
packed  up  in  bales  with  suits  of  armour  and  ^^3,000 
in  each,  rewarding  the  searcher  at  Gravelines  with 
new  year  presents  of  black  velvet  and  black  cloth. 
About  the  time  of  the  Queen's  marriage  to  Philip 
Gresham  went  to  Spain,  to  start  from  Puerto  Real 
fifty  cases,  each  containing  22,000  Spanish  ducats. 
All  the  time  Gresham  resided  at  Antwerp,  carrying 
out  these  sagacious  and  important  negociations,  he 
was  rewarded  with  the  paltry  remuneration  of  j^i 
a  day,  of  which  we  often  find  him  seriously  com- 
plaining. It  was  in  Antwerp,  that  vast  centre  of 
commerce,  that  Gresham  must  have  gained  that 
great  knowledge  of  business  by  which  he  after- 
wards enriched  himself  Antwerp  exported  to 
England  at  this  time,  says  Mr.  Burgon,  in  his  ex- 
cellent life  of  Gresham,  almost  every  article  of 
luxury  required  by  English  people. 

Later  in  Queen  Mary's  reign  Gresham  was  fre- 
quently displaced  by  rivals.  He  made  trips  to  Eng- 
land, sharing  largely  in  the  dealings  of  the  Mercers' 
Company,  of  which  he  was  a  member,  and  shipping 
vast  quantities  of  cloth  to  sell  to  the  Italian  mer- 
chants at  Antwerp,  in  exchange  for  silks.  A  few 
years  later  the  Mercers  are  described  as  sending 
forth,  twice  a  year,  a  fleet  of  50  or  60  ships,  laden 
with  cloth,  for  the  Low  Countries.  Gresham  is 
mentioned,  in  1555,  as  presenting  Queen  Mary,  as 
a  new  year's  gift,  with  "  a  bolt  of  fine  Holland," 
receiving  in  return  a  gilt  jug,  weighing  i6|  ounces. 
That  the  Queen  considered  Gresham  a  faithful  and 
useful  servant  there  can  be  no  doubt,  for  she  gave 
him,  at  different  times,  a  priory,  a  rectory,  and 
several  manors  and  advowsons. 

Gresham,  like  a  prudent  courtier,  seems  to  have 
been  one  of  the  first  persons  of  celebrity  who 
visited  Queen  Elizabeth  on  her  accession.  She 
gave  the  wise  merchant  her  hand  to  kiss,  and  told 
him  that  she  would  always  keep  one  ear  ready  to 
hear  him ;  "  which,"  says  Gresham,  "  made  me  a 
young  man  again,  and  caused  me  to  enter  on  my 
present  charge  with  heart  and  courage." 

The  young  Queen  also  promised  him  on  her 
faith  that  if  he  served  her  as  well  as  he  had  done 
her  brother  Edward,  and  Queen  Mary,  her  sister, 
she  would  give  him  as  much  land  as  ever  they 
both   had.      This  gracious  promise  Gresham  re- 


minded the  Queen  of  years  after,  when  he  had  to 
complain  to  his  friend  Cecil  that  the  Marquis  of 
Winchester  had  tried  to  injure  him  with  the  Queen. 

Gresham  soon  resumed  his  visits  to  Flanders,  to 
procure  money,  and  send  over  powder,  armour, 
and  weapons.  He  was  present  at  the  funeral  of 
Charles  V.,  seems  to  have  foreseen  the  coming 
troubles  in  the  Low  Countries,  and  commented  on 
the  rash  courage  of  Count  Egmont. 

The  death  of  Gresham's  only  son  Richard,  in 
the  year  1564,  was  the  cause,  Mr.  Burgon  thinks,  of 
Gresham's  determining  to  devote  his  money  to  the 
benefit  of  his  fellow-citizens.  Lombard  Street  had 
long  become  too  small  for  the  business  of  London. 
Men  of  business  were  exposed  there  to  all  weathers, 
and  had  to  crowd  into  small  shops,  or  jostle  under 
the  pent-houses.  As  e^rly  as  1534  or  1535  the 
citizens  had  deliberated  in  common  council  on  the 
necessity  of  a  new  place  of  resort,  and  Leadenhall 
Street  had  been  proposed.  In  the  year  1565  certain 
houses  in  Cornhill,  in  the  ward  of  Broad  Street, 
and  three  alleys — Swan  Alley,  Cornhill ;  New  Alley, 
Cornhill,  near  St.  Bartholomew's  Lane ;  and  St. 
Christopher's  Alley,  comprising  in  all  fourscore 
householders — were  purchased  for  ;^3,737  6s.  6d., 
and  the  materials  sold  for  ^^478.  The  amount 
was  subscribed  for  in  small  sums  by  about  750 
citizens,  the  Ironmongers'  Company  giving  ;^75. 
The  first  brick  was  laid  by  Sir  Thomas,  June  7, 
1566.  A  Flemish  architect  superintended  the 
sawing  of  the  timber,  at  Gresham's  estate  at  Rings- 
hall,  near  Ipswich,  and  on  Battisford  Tye  (common) 
traces  of  the  old  sawpits  can  still  be  seen.  The 
slates  were  bought  at  Dort,  the  wainscoting  and 
glass  at  Amsterdam,  and  other  materials  in  Flanders. 
The  building,  pushed  on  too  fast  for  final  solidity, 
was  slated  in  by  November,  1567,  and  shortly  after 
finished.  The  Bourse,  when  erected,  was  thought 
to  resemble  that  of  Antwerp,  but  there  is  also 
reason  to  believe  that  Gresham's  architect  closely 
followed  the  Bourse  of  Venice. 

The  new  Bourse,  Flemish  in  character,  was  a 
long  four-storeyed  building,  with  a  high  double 
balcony.  A  bell-tower,  crowned  by  a  huge  grass- 
hopper, stood  on  one  side  of  the  chief  entrance. 
The  bell  in  this  tower  summoned  merchants  to  the 
spot  at  twelve  o'clock  at  noon  and  six  o'clock  in 
the  evening.  A  lofty  Corinthian  column,  crested 
with  a  grasshopper,  apparently  stood  outside  the 
north  entrance,  overlooking  the  quadrangle.  The 
brick  building  was  afterwards  stuccoed  over,  to 
imitate  stone.  Each  corner  of  the  building,  and 
the  peak  of  every  dormer  window,  was  crowned  by 
a  grasshopper.  Within  Gresham's  Bourse  were 
piazzas  for   wet  weather,  and  the  covered  walks 


496 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Royal  Exchange. 


were  adorned  with  statues  of  English  kings.  A 
statue  of  Gresham  stood  near  the  north  end  of  the 
western  piazza.  At  the  Great  Fire  of  1666  this 
statue  alone  remained  there  uninjured,  as  Pepys 
and  Evelyn  particularly  record.  The  piazzas  were 
supported  by  marble  pillars,  and  above  were  100 
small  shops.  The  vaults  dug  below,  for  mer- 
chandise, proved  dark  and  damp,  and  were  com- 
paratively valueless.  Hentzner,  a  German  traveller 
who  visited  England  in  the  year  1598,  particularly 
mentions  the  stateliness  of  the  building,  the  assem- 
blage of  different  nations,  and  the  quantities  of 
merchandise. 

Many  of  the  shops  in  the  Bourse  remained  unlet 


on  January  23,  1570,  Queen  Elizabeth  came  from 
Somerset  House  through  Fleet  Street  past  the  north 
side  of  the  Bourse  to  Sir  Thomas  Gresham's  house 
in  Bishopsgate  Street,  and  there  dined.  After  the 
banquet  she  entered  the  Bourse  on  the  south  side, 
viewed  every  part ;  especially  she  caused  the  build- 
ing, by  herald's  trumpet,  to  be  proclaimed  'the 
Royal  Exchange,'  so  to  be  called  from  henceforth, 
and  not  otherwise." 

Such  was  the  vulgar  opinion  of  Gresham's  wealth, 
that  Thomas  Heywood,  in  his  old  play,  /f  You 
kncnu  7Jot  Me,  You  know  Nobody,  makes  Gresham 
crush  an  invaluable  pearl  into  the  wine-cup  in 
which  he  drinks  his  queen's  health — 


RIVUR      THAMES 


wren's  plan  for  rebuilding  LONDON.     (See page  ^oi.) 


till  Queen  Elizabeth's  visit,  in  1570,  which  gave 
them  a  lustre  that  tended  to  make  the  new  building 
fashionable.  Gresham,  anxious  to  have  the  Bourse 
worthy  of  such  a  visitor,  went  round  twice  in  one 
day  to  all  the  shopkeepers  in  "  the  upper  pawn," 
and  offered  them  all  the  shops  they  would  furnish 
and  light  up  with  wax  rent  free  for  a  whole  year. 
The  result  of  this  liberality  was  that  in  two  years 
Gresham  was  able  to  raise  the  rent  from  40s.  a 
year  to  four  marks,  and  a  short  time  after  to 
;^4  I  OS.  The  milliners'  shops  at  the  Bourse,  in 
Gresham's  time,  sold  mousetraps,  birdcages,  shoe- 
ing-horns,  lanthoms,  and  Jews'  trumps.  There 
were  also  sellers  of  armour,  apothecaries,  book- 
sellers, goldsmiths,  and  glass-sellers  ;  but  the  shops 
soon  grew  richer  and  more  fashionable,  so  that  in 
1631  the  editor  of  Stow  says,  "Unto  which  place, 


"  Here  fifteen  hundred  pounds  at  one  clap  goes. 
Instead  of  sugar,  Gresham  drinks  the  pearl 
Unto  his  queen  and  mistress.     Pledge  it,  lords  ! " 

The  new  Exchange,  like  the  nave  of  St.  Paul's, 
soon  became  a  resort  for  idlers.  In  the  Inquest 
Book  of  Cornhill  Ward,  1574  (says  Mr.  Burgon), 
there  is  a  presentment  against  the  Exchange,  because 
on  Sundays  and  holidays  great  numbers  of  boys, 
children,  and  "  young  rogues,"  meet  there,  and  shout 
and  holloa,  so  that  honest  citizens  cannot  quietly 
walk  there  for  their  recreation,  and  the  parishioners 
of  St.  Bartholomew  could  not  hear  the  sermon.  In 
1590  we  find  certain  women  prosecuted  for  selling 
apples  and  oranges  at  the  Exchange  gate  in  Corn- 
hill,  and  "  amusing  themselves  in  cursing  and  swear- 
ing, to  the  great  annoyance  and  grief  of  the  inhabi- 
tants and  passers-by."    In  1592  a  tavern-keeper, 


Royal  Exchange.^ 


PLAN  OF  THE  EXCHANGE. 


497 


who  had  vaults  under  the  Exchange,  was  fined  for 
allowing  tippling,  and  for  broiling  herrings,  sprats, 
and  bacon,  to  the  vexation  of  worshipful  merchants 
resorting  to  the  Exchange.  In  1602  we  find  that 
oranges  and  lemons  were  allowed  to  be  sold  at  the 
gates  and  passages  of  the  Exchange.  In  1622 
complaint  was  made  of  the  rat-catchers,  and  sellers 
of  dogs,  birds,  plants,  &c.,  who  hung  about  the 
south  gate  of  the  Bourse,  especially  at  exchange 


p.m.  in  summer,  and  nine  p.m.  in  winter.  Bishop 
Hall,  in  his  Satires  (1598),  sketching  the  idlers  of 
his  day,  describes  "  Tattelius,  the  new-come  tra- 
veller, with  his  disguised  coat  and  new-ringed  ear 
[Shakespeare  wore  earrings],  tramping  the  Bourse's 
marble  twice  a  day." 

And  Hayman,  in  his  "  Quodlibet "  (1628),  has  the 
following  epigram  on  a  "  loafer  "  of  the  day,  whom 
he  dubs  "  Sir  Pierce  Penniless,"  from  Naish's  clever 


North. 
Threadneedle  Street. 


East  Country 

Irish 

Walk. 

Walk. 

>> 

Clothiers' 

Silkmen's 

Walk. 

e-3 

Walk. 

o> 

%" 

Grocers  and 

Druggists' 

Walk. 


Scotch 

Dutch  and 

Walk. 

Jewellers'  Walk. 

Hamburg         Salters* 

<f. 

Walk. 

Walk. 

^3 

Canary  Walk. 


Barbadocs 
Walk. 


Virginia 

Walk. 


Jamaica 
Walk. 


Brokers,  &c., 

of  Stocks 

Walk. 

. 

Italian 
Walk. 

tik. 

French 
Walk. 

*    H. 

Jews' 

Valk. 

Spanish 
Walk.                                     A 

ComhiU. 
South. 


PLAN   OF  THE  EXCHANGE  IN   1 83 7, 


time.  It  was  also  seriously  complained  of  that 
the  bear-wards,  Shakespeare's  noisy  neighbours  in 
Southwark,  before  special  bull  or  bear  baitings, 
used  to  parade  before  the  Exchange,  generally  in 
business  hours,  and  there  make  proclamation  of 
their  entertainments,  which  caused  tumult,  and 
drew  together  mobs.  It  was  usual  on  these  occa- 
sions to  have  a  monkey  riding  on  the  bear's  back, 
and  several  discordant  minstrels  fiddling,  to  give 
additional  publicity  to  the  coming  festival. 

No  person  frequenting  the  Bourse  was  allowed 
to  wear  any  weapon,  and  in  1579  it  was  ordered 
that  no  one  should  walk  in  the  Exchange  after  ten 


pamphlet,  and  ranks  with  the  moneyless  loungers 
of  St.  Paul's  :— 

"Though  little  coin  thy  purseless  pockets  Ime, 
Yet  with  great  company  thou'rt  taken  up ; 
For  often  with  Duke  Humfray  thou  dost  dinj2, 
And  often  with  Sir  Thomas  Gresham  sup." 

Here,  too,  above  all,  the  monarch  of  English 
poetry  must  have  often  paced,  watching  the  Anto- 
nios  and  Shylocks  of  his  day,  the  anxious  wistful 
faces  of  the  debtors  or  the  embarrassed,  and  the 
greedy  anger  of  the  creditors.  In  the  Bourse  he 
may  first  have  thought  over  to  himself  the  beautiful 
lines  in  the  "  Merchant  of  Venice  "  (act  i.),  where 


498 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


tRoya'  Excliange. 


he  SO  wonderfully  epitomises  the  vicissitudes  of  a 

merchant's  life : — 

"  My  wind,  cooling  my  broth, 
Would  blow  me  to  an  ague,  when  I  thought 
What  harm  a  wind  too  great  might  do  at  sea. 
I  should  not  see  the  sandy  hour-glass  run, 
But  I  bhould  think  of  shallows  and  of  flats. 
And  see  my  wealthy  Andrew  dock'd  in  sand, 
Vailing  her  high  top  lower  than  her  ribs, 
To  kiss  her  burial.     Should  I  go  to  church. 
And  see  the  holy  edifice  of  stone. 
And  not  bethink  me  straight  of  dangerous  rocks  ? 
Which,  touching  but  my  gentle  vessel's  side. 
Would  scatter  all  her  spices  on  the  stream  ; 
Enrobe  the  roaring  waters  with  my  silks ; 


In  Gresham's  Exchange  great  precautions  were 
taken  against  fire.  Feather-makers  and  others  were 
forbidden  to  keep  pans  of  fire  in  their  shops.  Some 
care  was  also  taken  to  maintain  honesty  among  the 
shopkeepers,  for  they  were  forbidden  to  use  blinds 
to  their  windows,  which  might  obscure  the  shops, 
or  throw  false  lights  on  the  articles  vended. 

On  the  sudden  death  of  Sir  Thomas  Gresham, 
in  1579,  it  was  found  that  he  had  left,  in  accord- 
ance with  his  promise,  the  Royal  Exchange  jointly 
to  the  City  of  London  and  the  Mercers'  Company 
after  the  decease  of  his  wife.  Lady  Gresham 
appears  not  to  have   been  as  generous,   singlc- 


THE  FIRST  ROYAL  EXCHANGE. 


And,  in  a  word,  but  even  now  worth  this. 
And  now  worth  nothing  ?     Shall  I  have  the  thought 
To  think  on  this  ;  and  shall  I  lack  the  thought. 
That  such  a  thing,  bechanced,  would  make  me  sad?" 

Gresham  seems  to  have  died  before  the  Exchange 
was  thoroughly  furnished,  for  in  1610  (James  I.) 
Mr.  Nicholas  Leete,  Ironmonger,  preferred  a  petition 
to  the  Court  of  Aldermen,  lugubriously  setting  forth 
that  thirty  pictures  of  English  kings  and  queens 
had  been  intended  to  have  been  placed  in  the 
Exchange  rooms,  and  praying  that  a  fine,  in  future, 
should  be  put  on  every  citizen,  when  elected  an 
alderman,  to  furnish  a  portrait  of  some  king  or 
queen  at  an  expense  of  not  exceeding  one  hundred 
nobles.  The  pictures  were  "  to  be  graven  on  wood, 
covered  with  lead,  and  then  gilded  and  paynted  in 
oil  cuUors." 


minded,  and  large-hearted  as  her  husband.  Slie 
contested  the  will,  and  was  always  repining  at  the 
thought  of  the  property  passing  away  from  her  at 
death.  She  received  ^75i-7s.  per  annum  from 
the  rent  of  the  Exchange,  but  tried  hard  to  be 
allowed  to  grant  leases  for  twenty-one  years,  or 
three  lives,  keeping  the  fines  to  herself;  and  this 
was  pronounced  by  the  Council  as  utterly  against 
both  her  husband's  will  and  the  23rd  Elizabeth, 
to  which  she  had  been  privy.  She  complained 
querulously  that  the  City  did  not  act  well.  The 
City  then  began  to  complain  with  more  justice 
of  Lady  Gresham's  parsimony.  The  Bourse,  badly 
and  hastily  built,  began  to  fall  out  of  repair, 
gratings  by  the  south  door  gave  way  in  1582,  and 
the  clock  was  always  out  of  order.  Considermg 
L-ady  Gresham  had  been  left  £2,388  a  year,  these 


Royal  Exchange.  ] 


LADY  GRESHAM'S  PARSIMONY. 


499 


500 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Royal  Exchange. 


neglects  were  unworthy  of  her,  but  they  never- 
theless continued  till  her  death,  in  1596.  As  the 
same  lady  contributed  ^100  in  1588  for  the 
defence  of  the  country  against  the  Armada,  let  us 
hope  that  she  was  influenced  not  so  much  by  her 
own  love  of  money  as  the  importunities  of  some 
relatives  of  her  first  husband's  family. 

"The  Eye  of  London,"  as  Stow  affectionately 
calls  the  first  IJ.oyal  Exchange,  rapidly  became  a 
vast  bazaar,  where  fashionable  ladies  went  to  shop, 
and  sometimes  to  meet  their  lovers. 

Contemporary  allusions  to  Gresham's  Exchange 
are  innumerable  in  old  writers.  Donald  Lupton, 
in  a  little  work  called  "  London  and  the  Country 
Carbonadoed  and  Quartered  into  Severall  Charac- 
ters," published  in  1632,  says  of  the  Exchange: — 
"Here  are  usually  more  coaches  attendant  than 
at  chiu-ch  doors.  The  merchants  should  keep  their 
wives  from  visiting  the  upper  rooms  too  often,  lest 
they  tire  their  purses  by  attiring  themselves.  .  .  . 
There's  many  gentlewomen  come  hither  that,  to 
help  their  faces  and  complexion,  break  their  hus- 
bands' backs ;  who  play  foul  in  the  country  with 
their  land,  to  be  fair  and  play  false  in  the  city." 

"  I  do  not  look  upon  the  structure  of  this  Ex- 
change to  be  comparable  to  that  of  Sir  Thomas 
Gresham  in  our  City  of  London,"  says  Evelyn, 
writing  from  Amsterdam  in  1641 ;  "yet  in  one 
respect  it  exceeds  —  that  ships  of  considerable 
burthen  ride  at  the  very  key  contiguous  to  it."  He 
writes  from  Paris  in  the  same  strain :  "  I  went  to 
the  Exchange ;  the  late  addition  to  the  buildings  is 
very  noble ;  but  the  gallerys,  where  they  sell  their 
pretty  merchandize^  are  nothing  so  stately  as  ours  in 
London,  no  more  than  the  place  is  where  they  walk 
below,  being  only  a  low  vault."  Even  the  asso- 
ciations which  the  Rialto  must  have  awakened 
failed  to  seduce  him  from  his  allegiance  to  the 
City  of  London.  He  writes  from  Venice,  in  June, 
1645:  "I  went  to  their  Exchange — a  place  like 
ours,  frequented  by  merchants,  but  nothing  so  mag- 
nificent." 

During  the  Civil  War  the  Exchange  statue  of 
Charles  I.  was  thrown  down,  on  the  30th  of  May, 
1648,  and  the  premature  inscription,  "  Exit  tyran- 
norum  ultimus,"  put  up  in  its  place,  which  of  course 
was  removed  immediately  after  the  Restoration, 
when  a  new  statue  was  ordered.  The  Acts  for 
converting  the  Monarchy  into  a  Commonwealth 
.  were  burnt  at  the  Royal  Exchange,  May  28,  1661, 
'   by  the  hands  of  the  common  hangman. 

Samuel  RoUe,  a  clergyman  who  wrote  on  the 
Great  Fire,  has  left  the  following  account  of  this 
edifice  as  it  appeared  in  his  day : — "  How  full  of 
riches,"  he  exclaims,  "  was  that  Royal  Exchange  ! 


Rich  men  in  the  midst  of  it,  rich  goods  both  above 
and  beneath  !  There  men  walked  upon  the  top  of 
a  wealthy  mine,  considering  what  Eastern  treasures, 
costly  spices,  and  such-like  things  were  laid  up  in 
the  bowels  (I  mean  the  cellars)  of  that  place.  As 
for  the  upper  part  of  it,  was  it  not  the  great  store- 
house whence  the  nobility  and  gentry  of  England 
were  furnished  with  most  of  those  costly  things 
wherewith  they  did  adorn  either  their  closets  or 
themselves  ?  Here,  if  anywhere,  might  a  man  have 
seen  the  glory  of  the  world  in  a  moment.  What 
artificial  thing  could  entertain  the  senses,  the 
fantasies  of  men,  that  was  not  there  to  be  had? 
Such  was  the  delight  that  many  gallants  took  in 
that  magazine  of  all  curious  varieties,  that  they 
could  almost  have  dwelt  there  (going  from  shop  to 
shop  like  bee  from  flower  to  flower),  if  they  had 
but  had  a  fountain  of  money  that  could  not  have 
been  drawn  dry.  I  doubt  not  but  a  Mohamedan 
(who  never  expects  other  than  sensual  delights) 
would  gladly  have  availed  himself  of  that  place, 
and  the  treasures  of  it,  for  his  heaven,  and  have 
thought  there  was  none  like  it." 

In  1665,  during  the  Plague,  great  fires  were  made 
at  the  north  and  south  entrances  of  the  Exchange, 
to  purify  the  air.  The  stoppage  of  public  business 
was  so  complete  that  grass  grew  within  the  area  of 
the  Royal  Exchange.  The  strange  desertion  thus 
indicated  is  mentioned  in  Pepys'  "  Notes."  Having 
visited  the  Exchange,  where  he  had  not  been  for  a 
good  while,  the  writer  exclaims  :  "  How  sad  a  sight 
it  is  to  see  the  streets  empty  of  people,  and  very 
few  upon  the  'Change,  jealous  of  every  door  that 
one  sees  shut  up,  lest  it  should  be  the  Plague,  and 
about  us  two  shops  in  three,  if  not  more,  generally 
shut  up." 

At  the  Great  Fire  the  King  and  the  Duke  of 
York,  afterwards  James  II.,  attended  to  give 
directions  for  arresting  the  calamity.  They  could 
think  of  nothing  calculated  to  be  so  effectual  as 
blowing  up  or  pulling  down  houses  that  stood  in 
its  expected  way.  Such  precautions  were  used  in 
Cornhill ;  but  in  the  confusion  that  prevailed,  the 
timbers  which  they  had  contained  were  not  removed, 
and  when  the  flames  reached  them,  "  they,"  says 
Vincent,  who  wrote  a  sermon  on  the  Fire,  "  quickly 
cross  the  way,  and  so  they  lick  the  whole  street  up 
as  they  go ;  they  mount  up  to  the  top  of  the 
highest  houses ;  they  descend  down  to  the  bottom 
of  the  lowest  vaults  and  cellars,  and  march  along 
on  both  sides  of  the  way  with  such  a  roaring  noise 
as  never  was  heard  in  the  City  of  London  :  no 
stately  building  so  great  as  to  resist  their  fury; 
the  Royal  Exchange  itself,  the  glory  of  the  mer- 
chants, is  now  invaded  with  much  violence.    - 


Royal  Exchange.] 


THE  SECOND   ROYAL  EXCHANGE. 


501 


.  When  the  fire  was  entered,  how  quickly  did  it  run 
around  the  galleries,  filling  them  with  flames ;  then 
descending  the  stairs,  compasseth  the  walks,  giving 
forth  flaming  vollies,  and  filling  the  court  with 
sheets  of  fire.  By  and  by  the  kings  fell  all  down 
upon  their  faces,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  stone 
building  after  them  (the  founder's  statue  alone 
remaining),  with  such  a  noise  as  was  dreadful  and 
astonishing." 

In  Wren's  great  scheme  for  rebuilding  London, 
he  proposed  to  make  the  Royal  Exchange  the 
centre  nave  of  London,  from  whence  the  great 
sixty-feet  wide  streets  should  radiate  like  spokes  in 
a  huge  wheel.  The  Exchange  was  to  stand  free, 
in  the  middle  of  a  great  piazza,  and  was  to  have 
double  porticoes,  as  the  Forum  at  Rome  had. 
Evelyn  wished  the  new  building  to  be  at  Queen- 
hithe,  to  be  nearer  the  water-side,  but  eventually 
both  his  and  Wren's  plan  fell  through,  and  Mr. 
Jerman,  one  of  the  City  surveyors,  undertook  the 
design  for  the  new  Bourse. 

For  the  east  end  of  the  new  building  the  City  re- 
quired to  purchase  700  or  800  fresh  superficial  feet 
of  ground  from  a  Mr.  Sweeting,  and  1,400  more  for 
a  passage.  It  was  afterwards  found  that  the  City 
only  required  627  feet,  and  the  improvement  of 
the  property  would  benefit  Mr.  Sweeting,  who, 
however,  resolutely  demanded  ;;^i,ooo.  The  re- 
fractory, greedy  Sweeting  declared  that  his  tenants 
paid  him  ;^246  a  year,  and  in  fines  ^^620;  and 
that  if  the  new  street  cut  near  St.  Benet  Fink 
Church,  another  ;^i, 000  would  not  satisfy  him  for 
his  damage.  It  is  supposed  that  he  eventually 
took  ;^7oo  for  the  783  feet  4  inches  of  ground, 
and  for  an  area  25  feet  long  by  12  wide. 

Jerman's  design  for  the  new  building  being  com- 
pleted, and  the  royal  approbation  of  it  obtained, 
together  with  permission  to  extend  the  south-west 
angle  of  the  new  Exchange  into  the  street,  the 
building  (of  which  the  need  was  severely  felt)  was 
immediately  proceeded  with ;  and  the  foundation 
was  laid  on  the  6th  of  May,  1667.  On  the  23rd  of 
October,  Charles  II.  laid  the  base  of  the  column 
on  the  west  side  of  the  north  entrance ;  after  which 
he  was  plentifully  regaled  "  with  a  chine  of  beef, 
grand  dish  of  fowle,  gammons  of  bacon,  dried 
tongues,  anchovies,  caviare,  &c.,  and  plenty  of 
several  sorts  of  wine.  He  gave  twenty  pounds  in 
gold  to  the  workmen.  The  entertainment  was  in 
a  shed,  built  and  adorned  on  purpose,  upon  the 
Scotch  Walk."  Pepys  has  given  some  account  of 
this  interesting  ceremony  in  his  Diary,  where  we 
read,  "Sir  W.  Pen  and  I  back  to  London,  and 
there  saw  the  King  with  his  kettle-drums  and 
trumpets,  going  to  the  Exchange,  which,  the  gates 


being  shut,  I  could  not  get  in  to  see.  So,  with 
Sir  W.  Pen  to  Captain  Cockes,  and  thence  again 
towards  Westminster ;  but,  in  my  way,  stopped  at 
the  Exchange,  and  got  in,  the  King  being  nearly 
gone,  and  there  find  the  bottom  of  the  first  pillar 
laid.  And  here  was  a  shed  set  up,  and  hung  with 
tapestry,  and  a  canopy  of  state,  and  some  good 
victuals,  and  wine  for  the  King,  who,  it  seems, 
did  it." 

James  11, ,  then  Duke  of  York,  laid  the  first 
stone  of  the  eastern  column  on  the  31st  of  October. 
He  was  regaled  in  the  same  manner  as  the  King 
had  been;  and  on  the  i8th  of  November  following, 
Prince  Rupert  laid  the  first  stone  of  the  east  side 
of  the  south  entrance,  and  was  entertained  by  the 
City  and  company  in  the  same  place."  {Vide 
"Journals  of  the  House  of  Commons.") 

The  ground-plan  of  Jerman's  Exchange,  we  read 
in  Britton  and  Pugin's  "Public  Buildings,"  pre- 
sented  nearly  a  regular   quadrangle,  including  a 
spacious  open  court  with  porticoes  round  it,  and 
also  on  the  north  and  south  sides  of  the  building. 
The  front  towards  Cornhill  was  210  feet  in  extent. 
The  central  part  was  composed  of  a  lofty  archway, 
opening  from  the  middle  intercolumniation  of  four 
Corinthian    three-quarter    columns,    supporting  a 
bold  entablature,  over  the  centre  of  which  were 
the  royal  arms,  and  on  the  east  side  a  balustrade, 
&c.,  surmounted  by  statues   emblematical  of  the 
four  quarters   of  the  globe.      Within   the   lateral 
intercolumniations,  over  the  lesser  entrance  to  the 
arcade,   were    niches,   containing   the    statues   of 
Charles  I.  and  II.,  in  Roman  habits,  by  Bushnell. 
The   tower,  which  rose   from   the   centre   of  the 
portico,  consisted  of  three  storeys.     In  front  of  the 
lower  storey  was  a  niche,  containing  a  statue  of  Sir 
Thomas  Gresham;   and   over  the  cornice,   facing 
each  of  the   cardinal  points,  a  bust    of  Queen 
Elizabeth ;    at   the   angles  were   colossal  grifl[ins, 
bearing   shields   of  the  City   arms.       Within   the 
second  storey,  which  was  of  an  octagonal  form  with 
trusses  at  the  angles,  was  an  excellent  clock  with 
four  dials ;  there  were  also  four  wind-dials.     The 
upper  storey  (which  contained  the  bell)  was  circular, 
with  eight  Corinthian  columns  supporting  an  en- 
tablature, surmounted  by  a  dome,  on  which  was  a 
lofty  vane  of  gilt  brass,  shaped  like  a  grasshopper, 
the  crest  of  the  Gresham  family.     The  attic  over 
the  columns,  in  a  line  with  the  basement  of  the 
tower,    was   sculptured  with  two  alto-relievos,    in 
panels,   one  representing   Queen    Elizabeth,   with 
attendant  figures    and    heralds,    proclaiming  the 
original  building,  and  the  other  Britannia,  seated 
amidst  the   emblems   of  commerce,  accompanied 
by  the  polite  arts,  manufactures,  and  agriculture. 


502 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Royal  Exchange. 


The  height  from  the  basement  line  to  the  top  of 
the  dome  was  128  feet  6  inches. 

Within  the  quadrangle  there  was  a  spacious 
area,  measuring  144  feet  by  117  feet,  surrounded 
by  a  wide  arcade,  which,  as  well  as  the  area  itself, 
was,  for  the  general  accommodation,  arranged  into 
several  distinct  parts,  called  "  walks,"  where  foreign 
and  domestic  merchants,  and  other  persons  en- 
gaged in  commercial  pursuits,  daily  met.  The 
area  was  paved  with  real  Turkey  stones,  of  a  small 
size,  the  gift,  as  tradition :  reports,  of  a  merchant 
who  traded  to  that  country. 

In  the  centre,  on  a  pedestal,  surrounded  by  an 
iron  railing,  was  a  statue  of  Charles  II.,  in  a 
Roman  habit,  by  Spiller.  At  the  intersections  of 
the  groining  was  a  large  ornamented  shield,  dis- 
playing either  the  City  arms,  the  arms  of  the 
Mercers'  Company,  viz.,  a  maiden's  head,  crowned, 
with  dishevelled  hair ;  or  those  of  Gresham,  viz., 
a  chrevron,  ermine,  between  three  mullets. 

On  the  centre  of  each  cross-rib,  also  in  alternate 
succession,  was  a  maiden's  head,  a  grasshopper, 
and  a  dragon.  The  piazza  was  formed  by  a  series 
of  semi-circular  arches,  springing  from  columns. 
In  the  spandrils  were  tablets  surrounded  by 
festoons,  scrolls,  and  other  enrichments.  In  the 
wall  of  the  back  of  the  arcade  were  twenty-eight 
niches,  only  two  of  which  were  occupied  by 
statues,  viz.,  that  toward  the  north-west,  in  which 
was  Sir  Thomas  Gresham,  by  Cibber;  and  that 
toward  the  south-west,  in  which  was  Sir  John 
Barnard,  whose  figure  was  placed  here,  whilst  he 
was  yet  living,  at  the  expense  of  his  fellow-citizens, 
"in  testimony  of  his  merits  as  a  merchant,  a 
magistrate,  and  a  faithful  representative  of  the  City 
in  Parliament." 

Over  the  arches  of  the  portico  of  the  piazza  were 
twenty-five  large  niches  with  enrichments,  in  which 
were  the  statues  of  our  sovereigns.  Many  of  these 
statues  were  formerly  gilt,  but  the  whole  were 
latterly  of  a  plain  stone  colour.  Walpole  says  that 
the  major  part  were  sculptured  by  Cibber. 

We  append  a  few  allusions  to  the  second  'Change 
in  Addison's  works,  and  elsewhere. 

In  1683,  the  following  idle  verses  appeared, 
forming  part  of  Robin  Conscience's  "  Progress 
through  Court,  City,  and  Country:" — 

"  Now  I  being  thus  abused  below, 
Did  walk  upstairs,  where  on  a  row, 
Brave  shops  of  ware  did  make  a  shew 

Most  sumptious. 

"The  gallant  girls  that  there  sold  knacks, 
Which  ladies  and  brave  women  lacks, 
When  they  did  see  me,  they  did  wax 

In  choler, 


"Quoth  they,  We  ne'er  knew  Conscience  yet, 
And,  if  he  comes  our  gains  to  get, 
We'll  banish  him ;  he'll  here  not  get 

One  scholar." 

"There  is  no  place  in  the  town,"  says  that 
rambling  philosopher,  Addison,  "  which  I  so  much 
love  to  frequent  as  the  Royal  Exchange.  It  gives 
me  a  secret  satisfaction,  and  in  some  measure 
gratifies  my  vanity,  as  I  am  an  Englishman,  to  see 
so  rich  an  assembly  of  countrymen  and  foreigners 
consulting  together  upon  the  private  business  of 
mankind,  and  making  this  metropolis  a  kind  of 
emporium  for  the  whole  earth.  I  must  confess  I 
look  upon  High  'Change  to  be  a  great  council  in 
which  all  considerable  nations  have  their  repre- 
sentatives. Factors  in  the  trading  world  are  what 
ambassadors  are  in  the  politic  world ;  they  nego- 
ciate  affairs,  conclude  treaties,  and  maintain  a  good 
correspondence  between  those  wealthy  societies  of 
men  that  are  divided  from  one  another  by  seas  and 
oceans,  or  live  on  the  different  extremities  of  a 
continent.  I  have  often  been  pleased  to  hear  dis- 
putes adjusted  between  an  inhabitant  of  Japan  and 
an  alderman  of  London ;  or  to  see  a  subject  of  the 
great  Mogul  entering  into  a  league  with  one  of  the 
Czar  of  Muscovy.  I  am  infinitely  delighted  in 
mixing  with  these  several  ministers  of  commerce,  as 
they  are  distinguished  by  their  different  walks  and 
different  languages.  Sometimes  I  am  jostled 
among  a  body  of  Armenians ;  sometimes  I  am 
lost  in  a  crowd  of  Jews ;  and  sometimes  make  one 
in  a  group  of  Dutchmen.  I  am  a  Dane,  Swede,  or 
Frenchman  at  different  times ;  or  rather,  fancy 
myself  like  the  old  philosopher,  who,  upon  being 
asked  what  countryman  he  was,  replied  that  he 
was  a  citizen  of  the  world." 

"  When  I  have  been  upon  the  'Change "  (such 
are  the  concluding  words  of  the  paper),  "  I  have 
often  fancied  one  of  our  old  kings  standing  in  person 
where  he  is  represented  in  effigy,  and  looking  down 
upon  the  wealthy  concourse  of  people  with  which 
that  place  is  every  day  filled.  In  tfiis  case,  how 
would  he  be  surprised  to  hear  all  the  languages  of 
Europe  spoken  in  this  little  spot  of  his  former 
dominions,  and  to  see  so  many  private  men,  wlio 
in  his  time  would  have  been  the  vassals  of  some 
powerful  baron,  negotiating,  like  princes,  for  greater 
sums  of  money  than  were  formerly  to  be  met  with 
in  the  royal  treasury  !  Trade,  without  enlarging 
the  British  territories,  has  given  us  a  kind  of  addi- 
tional empire.  It  has  multiplied  the  number  of 
the  rich,  made  our  landed  estates  infinitely  more 
valuable  than  they  were  formerly,  and  added  to 
them  an  accession  of  other  estates  as  valuable  as 
the  land  themselves."     {Spectator,  No.  69.) 


Royal  Exchange.]       ROYAL  EXCHANGE  ATTRACTIONS  AND   NUISANCES. 


503 


It  appears,  from  one  of  Steele's  contributions  to 
the  Spectator,  that  so  late  as  the  year  1712  the 
shops  continued  to  present  undiminished  attraction. 
They  were  then  160  in  number,  and,  letting  at  ^20 
or  ;^3o  each,  formed,  in  all,  a  yearly  rent  of 
;^4,ooo :  so,  at  least,  it  is  stated  on  a  print 
published  in  1 7 1 2,  of  which  a  copy  may  be  seen  in 
Mr.  Crowle's  "  Pennant."  Steele,  in  describing  the 
adventures  of  a  day,  relates  that,  in  the  course  of 
his  rambles,  he  went  to  divert  himself  on  'Change. 
"It  was  not  the  least  of  my  satisfaction  in  my 
survey,"  says  he,  "to  go  up-stairs  and  pass  the 
shops  of  agreeable  females ;  to  observe  so  many 
pretty  hands  busy  in  the  folding  of  ribbons,  and 
the  utmost  eagerness  of  agreeable  faces  in  the  sale 
of  patches,  pins,  and  wires,  on  each  side  of  the 
counters,  was  an  amusement  in  which  I  could 
longer  have  indulged  myself,  had  not  the  dear 
creatures  called  to  me,  to  ask  what  I  wanted." 

"On  evening  'Change/' says  Steele,  "the  mumpers, 
the  halt,  the  blind,  and  the  lame ;  your  vendors  of 
trash,  apples,  plums ;  your  ragamuffins,  rake-shames, 
and  wenches — have  jostled  the  greater  number  of 
honourable  merchants,  substantial  tradesmen,  and 
knowing  masters  of  ships,  out  of  that  place.  So 
that,  what  with  the  din  of  squallings,  oaths,  and 
cries  of  beggars,  men  of  the  greatest  consequence 
in  our  City  absent  themselves  from  the  Royal 
Exchange." 

The  cost  of  the  second  Exchange  to  the  City 
and  Mercers'  Company  is  estimated  by  Strype  at 
;^8o,ooo,  but  Mr.  Burgon  calculates  it  at  only 
^69,979  IIS.  The  shops  in  the  Exchange, leading 
to  a  loss,  were  forsaken  about  1739,  and  eventually 
done  away  with  some  time  after  by  the  unwise  Act 
of  1768,  which  enabled  the  City  authorities  to  pull 
down  Grgsham  College.  From  time  to  time  fre- 
quent repairs  were  made  in  Jerman's  building. 
Those  effected  between  the  years  1819  and  1824 
cost  ;^34,39o.  This  sum  included  the  cost  of  a 
handsome  gate  tower  and  cupola,  erected  in  182 1, 


from  the  design  of  George  Smith,  Esq.,  surveyor 
to  the  Mercers'  Company,  in  lieu  of  Jerman's 
dilapidated  wooden  tower. 

The  clock  of  the  second  Exchange,  set  up  by 
Edward  Stanton,  under  the  direction  of  Dr.  Hooke, 
had  chimes  with  four  bells,  playing  six,  and  latterly 
seven  tunes.  The  sound  and  tunable  bells  were 
bought  for  jQd  5  s.  per  cwt.  The  balconies  from 
the  inner  pawn  into  the  quadrangle  cost  about 
;^3oo.  The  signs  over  the  shops  were  not  hung, 
but  were  over  the  doors. 

Caius  Gabriel  Gibber,  the  celebrated  Danish 
sculptor,  was  appointed  carver  of  the  royal  statues 
of  the  piazza,  but  Gibbons  executed  the  statue  of 
Charles  II.  for  the  quadrangle.  Bushnell,  the  mad 
sculptor  of  the  fantastic  statues  on  Temple  Bar, 
carved  statues  for  the  Cornhill  front,  as  we  have 
before  mentioned.  The  statue  of  Gresham  in  the 
arcade  was  by  Gibber;  George  III.,  in  the  piazza, 
was  sculptured  by  Wilton  ;  George  I.  and  II.  were 
by  Rysbrach. 

The  old  clock  had  four  dials,  and  chimed  four 
times  daily.  The  chimes  played  at  three,  six, 
nine,  and  t\velve  o'clock — on  Sunday,  "The  104th 
Psalm ;"  Monday,  "  God  save  the  King  ;"  Tuesday, 
"The  Waterloo  March;"  Wednesday,  "There's 
nae  Luck  aboot  the  Hoose ;"  Thursday,  "  See  the 
Conquering  Hero  comes ;"  Friday,  "  Life  let  us 
cherish ;"  Saturday,  "  Foot  Guards'  March." 

The  outside  shops  of  the  second  Exchange  were 
lottery  offices,  newspaper  offices,  watchmakers, 
notaries,  stock-brokers,  &c.  The  shops  in  the 
galleries  were  superseded  by  the  Royal  Exchange 
Assurance  Offices,  Lloyd's  Coffee-house,  the  Mer- 
chant Seamen's  Offices,  the  Gresham  Lecture 
Room,  and  the  Lord  Mayor's  Court  Office.  "  The 
latter,"  says  Timbs,  "  was  a  row  of  offices,  divided 
by  glazed  partitions,  the  name  of  each  attorney 
being  inscribed  in  large  capitals  upon  a  projecting 
board.  The  vaults  were  let  to  bankers,  and  to  the 
East  India  Company  for  the  stowage  of  pepper." 


CHAPTER  XLIIL 


The  Second  Exchange  on  Fire— Chimes  Extraordinary— Incidents  of  the  Fire— Sale  of  Salvage-Designs  for  the  New  Building— Details  of  the 
Present  Exchange— The  Ambulatory,    or  Merchants'  Walk— Royal   Exchange  Assurance   Company— "  Lloyd's  "—Origin  ef"  Lloyd's"— 


Marine  Assurance— Benevolent  Contributions  of  "Lloyd's"— A  "Good"  and  "Bad"  Book. 


The  second  Exchange  was  destroyed  by  fire  on  the 
loth  of  January,  1838.  The  flames,  which  broke 
out  probably  from  an  over-heated  stove  in  Lloyd's 
Coffee-house,  were  first  seen  by  two  of  the  Bank 


watchmen  about  half-past  ten.  The  gates  had  to 
be  forced  before  entrance  could  be  effected,  and 
then  the  hose  of  the  fire-engine  was  found  to  be 
frozen  and  unworkable.     About  one  o'clock  the 


504 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Royal  Exchange. 


fire  reached  the  new  tower.  The  bells  chimed 
"  Life  let  us  cherish,"  "  God  save  the  Queen,"  and 
one  of  the  last  tunes  heard,  appropriately  enough, 
was  "  There's  nae  Luck  aboot  the  Hoose."  The 
eight  bells  finally  fell,  crushing  in  the  roof  of  the 


of  Gresham  was  entirely  destroyed.  In  the  ruins 
of  the  Lord  Mayor's  Court  Office  the  great  City 
Seal,  and  two  bags,  each  containing  ;^2oo  in  gold, 
were  found  uninjured.  The  flames  were  clearly 
seen  at  Windsor  (twenty-four  miles  from  London), 


THE  PRESENT  ROYAL  EXCHANGE. 


entrance  arch.  The  east  side  of  Sweeting's  Alley 
was  destroyed,  and  all  the  royal  statues  but  that 
of  Charles  IL  perished.  One  of  Lloyd's  safes, 
containing  bank-notes  for  ;^2,5oo,  was  discovered 
after  the  fire,  with  the  notes  reduced  to  a  cinder, 
but  the  numbers  still  traceable.  A  bag  of  twenty 
sovereigns,  thrown  from  a  window,  burst,  and 
some  of  the  mob  benefited  by  the  gold.   The  statue 


and  at  Roydon  Mount,  near  Epping  (eighteen 
miles).  Troops  from  the  Tower  kept  Cornhill 
clear,  and  assisted  the  sufferers  to  remove  their 
property.  If  the  wind  had  been  from  the  south, 
the  Bank  and  St.  Bartholomew's  Church  would  also 
have  perished. 

An  Act  of  Parliament  was  passed  in  1838,  giving 
power  to  purchase  and  remove  all  the  buildings 


Royal  Exchange.] 


THE  NEW  ROYAL  EXCHANGE. 


505 


(called  Bank  Buildings)  west  of  the  Exchange,  and 
also  the  old  buildings  to  the  eastward,  nearly  as 
far  as  Finch  Lane.  The  Treasury  at  first  claimed 
the  direction  of  the  whole  building,  but  eventually 
gave  way,  retaining  only  a  veto  on  the  design.  The 
cost  of  the  building  was,  from  the  first,  limited  to 
;^i  50,000,  to  be  raised  on  the  credit  of  the  London 
Bridge  Fund.  Thirty  designs  were  sent  in  by  the 
rival  architects,  and  exhibited  in  Mercers'  Hall, 
but  none  could  be  decided  upon ;  and  so  the  judges 
themselves  had  to  compete.     Eventually  the  com- 


(perhaps  the  fountain  of  a  grand  Roman  court-yard), 
were  found  heaps  of  rubbish,  coins  of  copper,  yellow 
brass,  silver,  and  silver-plated  brass,  of  Augustus, 
Tiberius,  Claudius,  Nero,  Vespasian,  Domitian,  &c., 
Henry  IV.  of  England,  Elizabeth,  &c.,  and  stores 
of  Flemish,  German,  Prussian,  Danish,  and  Dutch 
money.  They  also  discovered  fragments  of  Roman 
stucco,  painted  shards  of  delicate  Samian  ware,  an 
amphora  and  terra-cotta  lamps  (seventeen  feet 
below  the  surface),  glass,  bricks  and  tiles,  jars,  urns, 
vases,   and  potters'  stamps.      Li  the  Corporation 


BLACKWELL  HALL  IN    1512 


petition  lay  between  Mr.  Tite  and  Mr.  Cockerell, 
and  the  former  was  appointed  by  the  Committee. 
Mr.  Tite  was  a  classical  man,  and  the  result  was  a 
^«^j-/-Greek,  Roman,  and  Composite  building.  Mr. 
Tite  at  once  resolved  to  design  the  new  building 
with  simple  and  unbroken  lines,  like  the  Paris 
Bourse,  and,  as  much  as  possible,  to  take  the  Pan- 
theon at  Rome  as  his  guide.  The  portico  was  to 
be  at  the  west  end,  the  tower  at  the  east.  The 
first  Exchange  had  been  built  on  piles  ;  the  foun- 
dations of  the  third  cost  j(^8, 1 24.  In  excavating  for 
it,  the  workmen  came  on  what  had  evidently  been 
the  very  centre  of  Roman  London.  In  a  gravel- 
pit,  which  afterwards  seemed  to  have  been  a  pond 
43 


Museum  at  the  Guildhall,  where  Mr.  Tite  deposited 
these  interesting  relics,  are  also  fine  wood  tablets, 
and  styles  (for  writing  on  wax)  of  iron,  brass,  bone, 
and  wood.  There  are  also  in  the  same  collection, 
from  the  same  source,  artificers'  tools  and  leather- 
work,  soldiers'  sandals  and  shoes,  and  a  series  of 
horns,  shells,  bones,  and  vegetable  remains.  Tes- 
selated  pavements  have  been  found  in  Threadneedle 
Street,  and  other  spots  near  the  Exchange. 

The  cost  of  enlarging  the  site  of  the  Exchange, 
including  improvements,  and  the  widening  of  Corn- 
hill,  Freeman's  Court,  and  Broad  Street,  the  removal 
of  the  French  Protestant  Church,  and  demolition 
of  St.  Benet  Fink,  Bank  Buildings,  and  Sweeting's 


5o6 


OLD   AND    NEW  LONDON. 


[Royal  Exchange 


Alley,  was,  according  to  the  City  Chamberlain's 
return  of  1851,  ;!{^223,578  is.  lod.  The  cost  of 
the  building  was  ;^i5o,ooo. 

The  portico,  one  of  the  finest  of  its  kind,  is  ninety- 
six  feet  wide,  and  seventy-four  feet  high.  That  of 
St.  Martin's  Church  is  only  sLvty-four  wide,  and  the 
Post  Office  seventy-six.  The  whole  building  was 
rapidly  completed.  The  foundation-stone  was  laid 
by  Prince  Albert,  January  17th,  1842,  John  Pirie, 
Esq.,  being  Lord  Mayor.  A  huge  red -striped 
pavilion  had  been  raised  for  the  ceremonial,  and  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  and  all  the  members  of  the 
Peel  Cabinet  were  present.  A  bottle  full  of  gold, 
silver,  and  copper  coins  was  placed  in  a  hollow 
of  the  huge  stone,  and  the  following  inscription 
(in  Latin),  written  by  the  Bishop  of  London,  and 
engraved  on  a  zinc  plate  : — 

Sir  Thomas  Gresham,  Knight, 

Erected  at  liis  own  cliarge 

A  Building  and  Colonnade 

For  the  convenience  of  those  Persons 

Who,  in  this  renowned  Mart, 

Might  carry  on  the  Commerce  of  the  World  ; 

Adding  thereto,  for  the  relief  of  Indigence, 

And  for  the  advancement  of  Literature  and  Science, 

An  Almshouse  and  a  College  of  Lecturers  ; 

The  City  of  London  aiding  him  ; 

Queen  Elizabeth  favouring  the  design, 

And,  when  the  work  was  complete, 

Opening  it  in  person,  with  a  solemn  Procession. 

Having  been  reduced  to  ashes, 

Together  with  almost  the  entire  City, 

By  a  calamitous  and  widely-spreading  Conflagration, 

They  were  Rebuilt  in  a  more  splendid  form 

By  the  City  of  London 

And  the  ancient  Company  of  Mercers, 

King  Charles  the  Second  commencing  the  building 

On  the  23rd  October,  a.d.  1667  ; 

And  when  they  had  been  again  destroyed  by  Fire, 

On  the  I oth  January,  A.D.  1838, 

The  same  Bodies,  undertaking  the  work. 

Determined  to  restore  them,  at  their  own  cost. 

On  an  enlarged  and  more  ornamental  Plan, 

The  munificence  of  Parliament  providing  the  means 

Of  extending  the  Site, 

And  of  widening  the  Approaches  and  Crooked  Streets 

In  every  direction, 

In  order  that  there  might  at  length  arise, 

Under  the  auspices  of  Queen  Victoria, 

Built  a  third  time  from  the  ground. 

An  Exchange 

Worthy  of  this  great  Nation  and  City, 

And  suited  to  the  vastness  of  a  Commerce 

Extended  to  the  circumference 

Of  the  habitable  Globe. 

His  Royal  Highness 

Prince  Albert  of  Saxe-Coburg  and  Gotha, 

Consort  of  Her  Sacred  Majesty, 

Laid  the  First  Stone 

On  the  17th  January,  1842, 

In  the  Mayoralty  of  the  Right  Hon.  John  Pirie. 

Architect,  William  Tite,  F.R.S. 


May  God  our  Preserver 
Ward  off  destruction 
From  this  Building,       • 
And  from  the  whole  City. 

At  the  sale  of  the  salvage,  the  porter's  large 
hand-bell,  rung  daily  before  closing  the  'Change 
(with  the  handle  burnt),  fetched  £,t,  3s. ;  City 
griffins,  jQT)^  and  ^^35  the  pair;  busts  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  ;^io  15s.  and  ;^i8  the  pair;  figures  of 
Europe,  Asia,  Africa,  and  America,  jQiio  \  the 
statue  of  Anne,  jQio  5s. ;  George  IL,  jQ<)  5s. ; 
George  IIL  and  Elizabeth,  jQii  15s.  each  ; 
Charles  IL,  £<) ',  and  the  sixteen  other  royal 
statues  similar  sums.  The  copper-gilt  grasshopper 
vane  was  reserved. 

The  present  Royal  Exchange  was  opened  by 
Queen  Victoria  on  October  28,  1844.  The  pro- 
cession walked  round  the  ambulatory,  the  Queen 
especially  admiring  Lang's  (of  Munich)  encaustic 
paintings,  and  proceeded  to  Lloyd's  Reading-room, 
which  was  fitted  up  as  a  throne-room.  Prince 
Albert,  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  Sir  Robert  Peel, 
Lord  John  Russell,  Sir  Robert  Sale,  and  other  cele- 
brities, were  present.  There  the  City  address  was 
read.  After  a  sumptuous  dejmner  in  the  Under- 
writers' room,  the  Queen  went  to  the  quadrangle, 
and  there  repeated  the  formula,  "  It  is  my  royal  will 
and  pleasure  that  this  building  be  hereafter  called 
'The  Royal  Exchange.'  The  mayor,  the  Right 
Hon.  William  Magnay,  was  afterwards  made  a 
baronet,  in  commemoration  of  the  day. 

A  curious  fact  connected  with  the  second 
Exchange  should  not  be  omitted.  On  the  i6th 
of  September,  1787,  a  deserted  child  was  found 
on  the  stone  steps  of  the  Royal  Exchange  that  led 
from  Cornhill  to  Lloyd's  Coffee-house.  The  then 
churchwarden,  Mr.  Samuel  Birch,  the  well-known 
confectioner,  had  the  child  taken  care  of  and 
respectably  brought  up.  He  was  named  Gresham, 
and  christened  Michael,  after  the  patron  saint  of 
the  parish  in  which  he  was  found.  The  lad  grew 
up  shrewd  and  industrious,  eventually  became  rich, 
and  established  the  celebrated  Gresham  Hotel  in 
Sackville  Street,  Dublin.  About  1836  he  sold  the 
hotel  for  ;^3o,ooo,  and  retired  to  his  estate,  Raheny 
Park,  near  Dublin.  He  was  a  most  liberal  and 
benevolent  man,  and  took  an  especial  interest  in 
the  Irish  orphan  societies. 

The  tower  at  the  east  end  of  the  Exchange  is 
177  feet  to  the  top  of  the  vane.  The  inner  area 
of  the  building  is  170  feet  by  112,  of  which  in 
feet  by  53  are  open  to  the  sky. 

The  south  front  is  one  unbroken  line  of  pilasters, 
with  rusticated  arches  on  the  ground  floor  for  shops 
and   entrances,   the   three    middle    spaces    being 


Royal  Exchange.] 


ROYAL   EXCHANGE  DETAILS. 


507 


simple  recesses.  Over  these  are  richly-decorated 
windows,  and  above  the  cornice  there  are  a  balus- 
trade and  attic.  On  the  north  side  the  .  centre 
projects,  and  the  pilasters  are  fewer.  The  arches 
on  the  ground  floor  are  rusticated,  and  there  are 
two  niches.  In  one  of  them  stands  a  statue  of 
Sir  Hugh  Myddelton,  who  brought  the  New  River 
to  London  in  1614  ;  and  another  of  Sir  Richard 
Whittington,  by  Carew.  Whittington  was,  it  must 
be  remembered,  a  Mercer,  and  the  Exchange  is 
specially  connected  with  the  Mercers'  Company. 

On  the  east  front  of  the  tower  is  a  niche  where 
a  statue  of  Gresham,  by  Behnes,  keeps  watch  and 
ward.  The  vane  is  Gresham's  former  grasshopper, 
saved  from  the  fire.  It  is  eleven  feet  long.  The 
various  parts  of  the  Exchange  are  divided  by  party 
walls  and  brick  arches  of  such  great  strength  as  to 
be  almost  fire-proof — a  compartment  system  which 
confines  any  fire  that  should  break  out  into  a  small 
and  restricted  area. 

West  of  the  Exchange  stands  Chantrey's  bronze 
equestrian  statue  of  the  Duke  of  WeUington.  It 
was  Chantrey's  last  work  ;  and  he  died  before  it 
was  completed.  The  sculptor  received  ^9,000 
for  this  figure ;  and  the  French  cannon  from  which 
it  was  cast,  and  valued  at  ^1,500,  were  given  by 
Government  for  the  purpose.  The  inauguration 
took  place  on  the  anniversary  of  the  battle  of 
Waterloo,  1844,  the  King  of  Saxony  being  present. 

On  the  frieze  of  the  portico  is  inscribed,  "  Anno 
XIII.  Elizabeths  R,  Conditvm  ;  Anno  VIII. 
Victoria  R.  Restavratvm."  Over  the  central 
doorway  are  the  royal  arms,  by  Carew.  The  key- 
stone has  the  merchant's  mark  of  Gresham,  and 
the  key-stones  of  the  side  arches  the  arms  of  the 
merchant  adventurers  of  his  day,  and  the  staple  of 
Calais.  North  and  south  of  the  portico,  and  in 
the  attic,  are  the  City  sword  and  mace,  with  the 
date  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign  and  1844,  and  in 
the  lower  panels  mantles  bearing  the  initials  of 
Queen  Elizabeth  and  Queen  Victoria  respectively. 
The  imperial  crown  is  twelve  inches  in  relief,  and 
seven  feet  high.  The  tympanum  of  the  pediment 
of  the  portico  is  filled  with  sculpture,  by  Richard 
Westmacott,  R.A.,  consisting  of  seventeen  figures 
carved  in  limestone,  nearly  all  entire  and  detached. 
The  centre  figure,  ten  feet  high,  is  Commerce, 
with  her  mural  crown,  upon  two  dolphins  and  a 
shell.  She  holds  the  charter  of  the  Exchange.  On 
her  right  is  a  group  of  three  British  merchants — 
as  Lord  Mayor,  Alderman,  and  Common  Council- 
man— a  Hindoo,  a  Mohammedan,  a  Greek  bearing 
a  jar,  and  a  Turkish  merchant.  On  the  left  are 
two  British  merchants  and  a  Persian,  a  Chinese,  a 
Levant  sailor,   a  negro,   a  British  jailor,  and  a 


supercargo.  The  opposite  angles  are  filled  with 
anchors,  jars,  packages,  &c.  Upon  the  pedestal 
of  Commerce  is  this  inscription,  selected  by  Prince 
Albert :  "  The  Earth  is  the  Lord's,  and  the 
FULNESS  thereof." — Psalm  xxiv.  i.  The  ascent 
to  the  portico  is  by  thirteen  granite  steps.  It 
was  discussed  at  the  time  whether  a  figure  of 
Gresham  himself  should  not  have  been  substituted 
for  that  of  Commerce ;  but  perhaps  the  abstract 
figure  is  more  suitable  for  a  composition  which  is, 
after  all,  essentially  allegorical. 

The  clock,  constructed  by  Dent,  with  the 
assistance  of  the  Astronomer  Royal,  is  true  to  a 
second  of  time,  and  has  a  compensation  pendulum. 
The  chimes  consist  of  a  set  of  fifteen  bells,  by 
Mears,  and  cost  ;^5oo,  the  largest  being  also  the 
hour-bell  of  the  clock.  In  the  chime-work,  by 
Dent,  there  are  two  hammers  to  several  of  the 
bells,  so  as  to  play  rapid  passages  ;  and  three  and 
five  hammers  strike  different  bells  simultaneously. 
All  irregularity  of  force  is  avoided  by  driving  the 
chime-barrel  through  wheels  and  pinions.  There 
are  no  wheels  between  the  weight  that  pulls 
and  the  hammer  to  be  raised.  The  lifts  on  the 
chime-barrel  are  all  epicycloidal  curves  ;  and  there 
are  6,000  holes  pierced  upon  the  barrel  for  the 
lifts,  so  as  to  allow  the  tunes  to  be  varied.  The 
present  airs  are  "  God  save  the  Queen,"  "  The 
Roast  Beef  of  Old  England,"  "  Rule  Britannia," 
and  the  104th  Psalm.  The  bells,  in  substance, 
form,  dimensions,  &c.,  are  from  the  Bow  bells' 
patterns ;  still,  they  are  thought  to  be  too  large 
for  the  tower.  The  chime-work  is  stated  to  be  the 
first  instance  in  England  of  producing  harmony  in 
bells. 

The  interior  of  the  Exchange  is  an  open  court- 
yard, resembling  the  corfiVe  of  Italian  palaces.  It 
was  almost  unanimously  decided  by  the  London 
merchants  (in  spite  of  the  caprices  of  our  charming 
climate)  to  have  no  covering  overhead,  a  decision 
probably  long  ago  regretted.  The  ground  floor 
consists  of  Doric  columns  and  rusticated  arches. 
Above  these  runs  a  series  of  Ionic  columns,  with 
arches  and  windows  surmounted  by  a  highly-orna- 
mented pierced  parapet.  The  keystones  of  the 
arches  of  the  upper  storey  are  decorated  with  the 
arms  of  all  the  principal  nations  of  the  world,  in 
the  order  determined  by  the  Congress  of  Vienna. 
In  the  centre  of  the  eastern  side  are  the  arms  of 
England. 

The  ambulatory,  or  Merchants'  Walk,  is  spacious 
and  well  sheltered.  The  arching  is  divided  by 
beams  and  panelling,  highly  painted  and  decorated 
in  encaustic.  In  the  centre  of  each  panel,  on  the 
four  sides,  the  arms  of  the  nations  are  repeated} 


5o8 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Royal  Exchange. 


emblazoned  in  their  proper  colours  ;  and  in  the 
four  angles  are  the  arms  of  Edward  the  Confessor, 
who  granted  the  first  and  most  important  charter 
to  the  City,  Edward  III.,  in  whose  reign  London 
first  grew  powerful  and  wealthy.  Queen  Elizabeth, 
who  opened  the  first  Exchange,  and  Charles  IL, 
in  whose  reign  the  second  was  built.  In  the 
south-east  angle  is  a  statue  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 
by  Watson,  and  in  the  south-west  a  marble  statue 
of  Charles  II.,  which  formerly  stood  in  the  centre 
of  the  second  Exchange,  and  which  escaped  the 
last  fire  unscathed. 

In  eight  small  circular  panels  of  the  ambulatory 
are  emblazoned  the  arms  of  the  three  mayors 
(Pirie,  Humphrey,  and  Magnay),  and  of  the  three 
masters  of  the  Mercers'  Company  in  whose  years 
of  office  the  Exchange  was  erected.  The  arms 
of  the  chairman  of  the  Gresham  Committee,  Mr. 
R.  L.  Jones,  and  of  the  architect,  Mr.  Tite, 
complete  the  heraldic  illustrations.  The  York- 
shire pavement  of  the  ambulatory  is  panelled  and 
bordered  with  black  stone,  and  squares  of  red 
granite  at  the  intersections.  The  open  area  is 
paved  with 'the  traditional  "  Turkey  stones,"  from 
the  old  Exchange,  which  are  arranged  in  Roman 
patterns,  with  squares  of  red  Aberdeen  granite  at 
the  intersections. 

On  the  side-wall  panels  are  the  names  of  the 
walks,  inscribed  upon  chocolate  tablets.  In  each 
of  the  larger  compartments  are  the  arms  of  the 
"walk,"  corresponding  with  the  merchants'.  As 
you  enter  the  colonnade  by  the  west  are  the  arms 
of  the  British  Empire,  with  those  of  Austria  on 
the  right,  and  Bavaria  on  the  reverse  side ;  then, 
in  rotation,  are  the  arms  of  Belgium,  France, 
Hanover,  Holland,  Prussia,  Sardinia,  the  Two 
Sicilies,  Sweden  and  Norway,  the  United  States 
of  America,  the  initials  of  the  Sultan  of  Turkey, 
Spain,  Saxony,  Russia,  Portugal,  Hanseatic  Towns, 
Greece,  and  Denmark.  On  a  marble  panel  in  the 
Merchants'  Area  are  inscribed  the  dates  of  the 
building  and  opening  of  the  three  Exchanges. 

"  Here  are  the  same  old-favoured  spots,  changed 
though  they  be  in  appearance,"  says  the  author 
of  the  "City"  (1845);  "and  notwithstanding  we 
have  lost  the  great  Rothschild,  Jeremiah  Harman, 
Daniel  Hardcastle,  the  younger  Rothschilds  occupy 
a  pillar  on  the  south  side  of  the  Exchange,  much 
in  the  same  place  as  their  father ;  and  the  Barings, 
the  Bateses,  the  Salomons,  the  Doxats,  the  Durrants, 
the  Crawshays,  the  Curries,  and  the  Wilsons,  and 
other  influential  merchants,  still  come  and  go  as  in 
olden  days.  Many  sea-captains  and  brokers  still 
go  on  'Change  ;  but  the  '  walks '  are  disregarded. 
ThQ  hour  at  High  'Change  is  from  3.30  to  4.30 


p.m.,    the   two   great   days   being   Tuesday   and 
Friday  for  foreign  exchanges." 

A  City  Avriter  of  1842  has  sketched  the  chief 
celebrities  of  the  Exchange  of  an  earlier  date. 
Mr.  Salomon,  with  his  old  clothes-man  attire,  his 
close-cut  grey  beard,  and  his  crutch-stick,  toddling 
towards  his  offices  in  Shooter's  Court,  Throgmorton 
Street ;  Jemmy  Wilkinson,  with  his  old-fashioned 
manner,  and  his  long-tailed  blue  coat  with  gilt 
buttons. 

On  the  south  and  east  sides  of  the  Exchange  are 
the  arms  of  Gresham,  the  City,  and  the  Mercers' 
Company,  for  heraldry  has  not  even  yet  died  out. 
Over  the  three  centre  arches  of  the  north  front 
are  the  three  following  mottoes : — Gresham's  (in 
old  French),  "  Fortun — kmy  ;"  the  City,  "  Doraine 
dirige  nos  ; "  the  Mercers',  "  Honor  Deo." 

Surely  old  heraldry  was  more  religious  than 
modern  trade,  for  the  shoddy  maker,  or  the  owner 
of  overladen  vessels,  could  hardly  inscribe  their 
vessels  or  their  wares  with  the  motto  "  Honor 
Deo;"  nor  could  the  director  of  a  bubble  com. 
pany  with  strict  propriety  head  the  columns  of 
his  ledger  with  the  solemn  words,  "  Domine  dirige 
nos."  But  these  are  cynical  thoughts,  for  no  doubt 
trade  ranks  as  many  generous,  honourable,"  and 
pious  people  among  its  followers  as  any  other 
profession ;  and  we  have  surely  every  reason  to 
hope  that  the  moral  standard  is  still  rising,  and 
that  "  the  honour  of  an  Enghshman  "  will  for  ever 
remain  a  proverb  in  the  East. 

The  whole  of  the  west  end  of  the  Exchange  is 
taken  up  by  the  offices  and  board-rooms  of  the 
Royal  Exchange  Assurance  Company,  first  organ- 
ised in  17 1 7,  at  meetings  in  Mercers'  Hall.  It 
was  an  amalgamation  of  two  separate  plans.  The 
petition  for  the  royal  sanction  made,  it  seems,  but 
slow  way  through  the  Council  and  the  Attorney- 
General's  department,  for  the  South  Sea  Bubble 
mania  was  raging,  and  many  of  the  Ministers, 
including  the  Attorney-General  himself  (and  who 
was  indeed  afterwards  prosecuted),  had  shares  in 
the  great  bubble  scheme,  and  wished  as  far  as 
possible  to  secure  for  it  the  exclusive  attention  of 
the  company.  The  petitioners,  therefore  (under 
high  legal  authority),  at  once  commenced  business 
under  the  temporary  title  of  the  Mining,  Royal 
Mineral,  and  Batteries  Works,  and  in  three-quarters 
of  a  year  insured  property  to  the  amount  of  nearly 
two  millions  sterling.  After  the  lapse  of  two 
years,  the  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  eager  for 
the  money  to  be  paid  for  the  charter,  and  a  select 
committee  having  made  a  rigid  inquiry  into  the 
project,  and  the  cash  lodged  at  the  Bank  to  meet 
losses,  recommended  the  grant  to  the  House  of 


feoyal  fixchanfdl 


«  LLOYD'S.'* 


509 


Commons.  The  Act  of  the  6th  George  I.,  cap.  18, 
authorised  the  king  to  grant  a  charter,  which  was 
accordingly  done,  June  22nd,  1720.  The  "London 
Assurance,"  which  is  also  lodged  in  the  Exchange, 
obtained  its  charter  at  the  same  time.  Each  of 
these  companies  paid  ^^300,000  to  the  Exchequer. 
They  were  both  allowed  to  assure  on  ships  at  sea, 
and  going  to  sea,  and  to  lend  money  on  bottomry ; 
and  each  was  to  have  *'  perpetual  succession  "  and  a 
common  seal.  To  prevent  a  monopoly,  however, 
no  person  holding  stock  in  either  of  the  companies 
was  allowed  to  purchase  stock  in  the  other.  In 
172 1,  the  "Royal  Exchange  Assurance"  obtained 
another  charter  for  assurances  on  lives,  and  also  of 
houses  and  goods  from  fire.  In  consequence  of 
the  depression  of  the  times,  the  company  was 
released  from  the  payment  of  ;:^i  50,000  of  the 
;^30o,ooo  originally  demanded  by  Government. 

At  the  close  of  the  last,  and  commencement  of 
the  present  century,  the  monopolies  of  the  tAvo  com- 
panies in  marine  assurance  were  sharply  assailed. 
Their  enemies  at  last,  however,  agreed  to  an  armis- 
tice, on  their  surrendering  their  special  privileges, 
which  (in  spite  of  Earl  Grey's  exertions)  were  at 
last  annulled,  and  any  joint-stock  company  can 
now  effect  marine  assurances.  The  loss  of  the 
monopoly  did  not,  however,  injure  either  excellent 
body  of  underwriters. 

"  Lloyd's,"  at  the  east  end  of  the  north  side  of 
the  Royal  Exchange,  contains  some  magnificent 
apartments,  and  the  steps  of  the  staircase  leading 
to  them  are  of  Craigleath  stone,  fourteen  feet  wide. 
The  subscribers'  room  (for  underwriting)  is  100 
feet  long,  by  48  feet  wide,  and  runs  from  north 
to  south,  on  the  east  side  of  the  Merchants'  Quad- 
rangle. This  noble  chamber  has  a  library  attached 
to  it,  with  a  gallery  round  for  maps  and  charts, 
which  many  a  shipowner,  sick  at  heart,  with  fears 
for  his  rich  argosy,  has  conned  and  traced.  The 
captains'  room,  the  board-room,  and  the  clerks' 
offices,  occupy  the  eastern  end;  and  along  the 
north  front  is  the  great  commercial  room,  80  feet 
long,  a  sort  of  club-room  for  strangers  and  foreign 
merchants  visiting  London.  The  rooms  are  lit 
from  the  ceilings,  and  also  from  Avindows  opening 
into  the  quadrangle.  They  are  all  highly  decorated, 
well  warmed  and  ventilated,  and  worthy,  as  Mr. 
Effingham  Wilson,  in  his  book  on  the  Exchange, 
justly  observes,  of  a  great  commercial  city  like 
London. 

The  system  of  marine  assurance  seems  to  have 
been  of  great  antiquity,  and  probably  began  with 
the  Italian  merchants  in  Lombard  Street.  The 
first  mention  of  marine  insurance  in  England,  says 
an  excellent  author,  Mr.  Burgon,  in  his  "  Life  of 


Gresham,"  is  in  a  letter  from  the  Protector  Somerset 
to  the  Lord  A-dmiral,  in  1548  (Edward  VI.),  still 
preserved  Gresham,  writing  from  Antwerp  to  Sir 
Thc^mas  Parry,  in  May,  1560  (Elizabeth),  speaks 
of  armour,  ordered  by  Queen  Elizabeth,  bought 
by  him  at  Antwerp,  and  sent  by  him  to  Hamburg 
for  shipment  (though  only  about  twelve  ships  a 
year  came  from  thence  to  London).  He  had  also 
adventured  at  his  own  risk,  one  thousand  pounds' 
worth  in  a  ship  which,  as  he  says,  "  I  have  caused 
to  be  assured  upon  the  Burse  at  Antwerp." 

The  following  preamble  to  the  Statute,  43rd 
Elizabeth,  proves  that  marine  assurance  was  even 
then  an  old  institution  in  England : — 

"Whereas  it  has  been,  time  out  of  mind,  an 
usage  among  merchants,  both  of  this  realm  and  of 
foreign  nations,  when  they  make  any  great  adven- 
tures (specially  to  remote  parts),  to  give  some 
considerable  money  to  other  persons  (which  com- 
monly are  no  small  number)  to  have  from  them 
assurance  made  of  their  goods,  merchandize,  ships, 
and  things  adventured,  or  some  part  thereof,  at 
such  rates,  and  in  such  sorts  as  the  parties  assurers 
and  the  parties  assured  can  agree,  which  course  of 
dealing  is  commonly  termed  a  policy  of  assurance, 
by  means  of  which  it  cometh  to  pass  upon  the 
loss  or  perishing  of  any  ship,  there  followeth  not 
the  undoing  of  any  man,  but  the  loss  lighteth 
rather  easily  upon  many,  than  heavy  upon  few ; 
and  rather  upon  them  that  adventure  not,  than 
upon  them  that  adventure ;  whereby  all  merchants, 
specially  the  younger  sort,  are  allowed  to  venture 
more  willingly  and  more  freely." 

In  1622,  Malynes,  in  his  "  Lex  Mercatoria,"  says 
that  all  policies  of  insurance  at  Antwerp,  and  other 
places  in  the  Low  Countries,  then  and  formerly 
always  made,  mention  that  it  should  be  in  all  things 
concerning  the  said  assurances,  as  it  was  accus- 
tomed to  be  done  in  Lombard  Street,  London. 

In  1627  (Charles  I.),  the  marine  assurers  had 
rooms  in  the  Royal  Exchange,  as  appears  by  a  law 
passed  in  that  year,  "for  the  sole  making  and 
registering  of  all  manners  of  assurances,  intima- 
tions, and  renunciations  made  upon  any  ship  or 
ships,  gqpds  or  merchandise  in  the  Royal  Ex- 
change, or  any  other  place  within  the  City  of 
London ; "  and  the  Rev.  Samuel  Rolle,  in  his 
"  ex.  Discourses  on  the  Fire  of  London,"  mentions 
an  assurance  office  in  the  Royal  Exchange,  "which 
undertook  for  those  ships  and  goods  that  were 
hazarded  at  sea,  either  by  boistrous  winds,  or 
dangerous  enemies,  yet  could  not  secure  itself, 
when  sin,  like  Samson,  took  hold  of  the  pillars  of 
it,  and  went  about  to  pull  it  down." 

After  the  Fire  of  London  the  underwriters  met 


5i<5 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Royal  Exchange. 


in  a  room  near  Comhill ;  and  from  thence  they 
removed  to  a  coffee-house  in  Lombard  Street,  kept 
by  a  person  named  Lloyd,  where  intelHgence  of 
vessels  was  collected  and.  made  public.  In  a 
copy  of  Lloyd's  List,  No.  996,  still  extant,  dated 
Friday, -June  7th,  1745,  and  quoted  by  Mr.  Effing- 
ham Wilson,  it  is  stated :  "  This  List,  which  was 
formerly  published  once  a  week,  will  now  continue 
to  be  published  every  Tuesday  and  Friday,  with 
the  addition  of  the  Stocks,  course  of  Exchange,  &c. 
Subscriptions  are  taken  in  at  three  shillings  per 


1740. — Mr.  Baker,  master  of  Lloyd's  Coffee-house, 
in  Lombard  Street,  waited  on  Sir  Robert  Walpole 
with  the  news  of  Admiral  Vernon's  taking  Porto- 
bello.  This  was  the  first  account  received  thereof, 
and,  proving  true.  Sir  Robert  was  pleased  to  order 
him  a  handsome  present."  {Gentleman's Magazine, 
March,  1740.) 

The  author  of  "The  City  "  (1845)  says  :  "'^^'^e 
affairs  of  Lloyd's  are  now  managed  by  a  committee 
of  underwriters,  who  have  a  secretary  and  five  or 
six  clerks,  besides  a  number  of  writers  to  attend 


INTERIOR   OF   LLOYD'S, 


quarter,  at  the  bar  of  Lloyd's  coffee-house  in  I,om- 
bard  Street."  Lloyd's  List  must  therefore  have 
begun  about  1726.  ^ 

In  the  Tatler  of  December  26th,  17 10,  is  the 
following  : — "  This  coffee-house  being  provided  with 
a  pulpit,  for  the  benefit  of  such  auctions  that  are 
frequently  made  in  this  place,  it  is  our  custom, 
upon  the  first  coming  in  of  the  news,  to  order  a 
youth,  who  officiates  as  the  Kidney  of  the  coffee- 
house, to  get  into  the  pulpit,  and  read  every  paper, 
with  a  loud  and  distinct  voice,  while  the  whole 
audience  are  sipping  their  respective  liquors." 

The  following  note  is  curious: — "nth  March, 


upon  the  rooms.  The  rooms,  three  in  number,  are 
called  respectively  the  Subscribers'  Room,  the  Mer- 
chants' Room,  and  the  Captains'  Room,  each  of 
which  is  frequented  by  various  classes  of  persons 
connected  with  shipping  and  mercantile  life.  Since 
the  opening  of  the  Merchants'  Room,  which  event 
took  place  when  business  was  re-commenced  at  the 
Royal  Exchange,  at  the  beginning  of  this  year,  an 
increase  has  occurred  in  the  number  of  visitors,  and 
in  which  numbers  the  subscribers  to  Lloyd's  are 
estimated  at  1,600  individuals. 

"  Taking  the  three  rooms  in  the  order  they  stand, 
under  the  rules  and  regulations  of  the  establishment. 


Royal  Exchange.]  UNDERWRITERS  AND   INSURANCE   BROKERS. 


Sii 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


tRoyal  fixchangeiN, 


we  shall  first  describe  the  business  and  appearance 
of  the  Subscribers'  Room.  Members  to  the  Sub- 
scribers' Room,  if  they  follow  the  business  of  under- 
writer or  insurance  broker,  pay  an  entrance  fee  of 
twenty-five  guineas,  and  an  annual  subscription  of 
four  guineas.  If  a  person  is  a  subscriber  only, 
without  practising  the  craft  of  under\vriting,  the 
jjayment  is  limited  to  the  annual  subscription  fee 
of  four  guineas.  The  Subscribers'  Room  numbers 
about  I, GOO  or  i,ioo  members,  the  great  majority 
of  whom  follow  the  business  of  underwriters  and 
insurance  brokers.  The  most  scrupulous  attention 
is  paid  to  the  admission  of  members,  and  the  ballot 
is  put  into  requisition  to  determine  all  matters 
brought  before  the  committee,  or  the  meeting  of  the 
house. 

*•  The  Underwriters'  Room,  as  at  present  existing, 
is  a  fine  spacious  room,  having  seats  to  accommo- 
date the  subscribers  and  their  friends,  with  drawers 
and  boxes  for  their  books,  and  an  abundant  supply 
of  blotting  and  plain  paper,  and  pens  and  ink. 
The  undenvriters  usually  fix  their  seats  in  one 
place,  and,  like  the  brokers  on  the  Stock  Exchange, 
have  their  particular  as  well  as  casual  customers. 

" '  Lloyd's  Books,' "  which  are  two  enormous 
ledger-looking  volumes,  elevated  on  desks  at  the 
right  and  left  of  the  entrance  to  the  room,  give  the 


Consols.  In  three  months  only  the  sum  subscribed 
at  Lloyd's  amounted  to  more  than  ;^7o,ooo.  In 
1809  they  gave  ;^5,ooo  more,  and  in  18 13 
;^i 0,000.  This  was  the  commencement  of  the 
Patriotic  Fund,  placed  under  three  trustees,  Sir 
Francis  Baring,  Bart.,  John  Julius  Angerstein,  Esq., 
and  Thomson  Bonar,  Esq.,  and  the  subscriptions 
soon  amounted  to  more  than  ^700,000.  In  other 
charities  Lloyd's  were  equally  munificent.  They 
gave  ;^5,ooo  to  the  London  Hospital,  for  the 
admission  of  London  merchant-seamen;  ;^i,ooo 
for  suffering  inhabitants  of  Russia,  in  1813  ;  ;;^i,ooo 
for  the  relief  of  the  North  American  Militia  (1S13); 
;^i  0,000  to  the  Waterloo  subscription  of  1815  ; 
;,^2,ooo  for  the  establishment  of  lifeboats  on  the 
English  coast.  They  also  instituted  rewards  for 
those  brave  men  who  save,  or  attempt  to  save,  life 
from  ship\vreck,  and  to  those  who  do  not  require 
money  a  medal  is  given.  This  medal  was  executed 
by  W.  Wyon,  Esq.,  R.A.  The  subject  of  the 
obverse  is  ihe  sea-nymph  Leucothea  appearing  to 
Ulysses  on  the  raft;  the  moment  of  the  subject 
chosen  is  found  in  the  follomng  lines  : — 

"  This  heavenly  scarf  beneath  thy  bosom  bind, 
And  live  ;  give  all  thy  terrors  to  the  wind." 

The    reverse    is  from  a  medal  of   the  time    of 
Augustus  —  a    crown    of    fretted   oak-leaves,    the 


principal  arrivals,  extracted  from  the  lists  so  received  j 

at  the  chief  outposts,  English  and  foreign,  and  of  I  reward  given  by  the  Romans  to  him  who  saved  the 

all  losses  by  wreck  or  fire,  or  other  accidents  at  sea,  '  life  of  a  citizen;  and  the  motto,  "  Ob  cives  servatos." 


written  in  a  fine  Roman  hand,  sufliciently  legible 
that '  he  who  runs  may  read.'  Losses  or  accidents, 
which,  in  the  technicality  of  the  room,  are  denomi- 
nated '  double  lines,'  are  almost  the  first  read  by 
the  subscribers,  who  get  to  the  books  as  fast  as 
possible,  immediately  the  doors  are  opened  for 
business. 

"  All  these  rooms  are  thrown  open  to  the  public 
as  the  'Change  clock  strikes  ten,  when  there  is  an 
immediate  rush  to  all  parts  of  the  establishment, 
the  object  of  many  of  the  subscribers  being  to  seize 
their  favourite  newspaper,  and  of  others  to  ascertain 
the  fate  of  their  speculation,  ae  revealed  in  the 
double  lines  before  mentioned." 

Not  only  has  Lloyd's  —  a  mere  body  of 
merchants  —  without  Government  interference  or 
patronage,  done  much  to  give  stability  to  our  com- 
merce, but  it  has  distinguished  itself  at  critical 
times  by  the  most  princely  generosity  and  bene- 
volence. In  the  great  French  war,  when  we  were 
pushed  so  hard  by  the  genius  of  Napoleon,  which 
we  had  unwisely  provoked,  Lloyd's  opened  a  sub- 
scription for  the  relief  of  soldiers'  widows  and 
orphans,  and  commenced  an  appeal  to  the  general 
public  by  the  gift  of  ^^20,000  Three  per  Cent. 


By  the  system  upon  which  business  is  conducted 
in  Lloyd's,  information  is  given  to  the  insurers  and 
the  insured;   there  are  registers  of  almost  every 
ship  which  floats  upon  the  ocean,  the  places  where 
they  were  built,  the  materials  and  description  of 
timber  used  in  their  construction,  their  age,  state 
of  repair,  and  general  character.    An  index  is  kept, 
showing  the  voyages  in  which  they  have  been  and 
are  engaged,    so  that    merchants   may  know  the 
vessel  in  which  they  entrust  their  property,  and 
assurers  may  ascertain  the  nature  and  value  of  the 
risk  they  undertake.      Agents  are   appointed   for 
Lloyd's  in  almost  every  seaport  in  the  globe,  who 
send  information  of  arrivals,  casualties,  and  other 
matters  interesting  to  merchants,  shipowners,  and 
underwriters,  which  information  is  published  daily 
in  Lloyd's  List,  and  transmitted  to  all  parts  of  the 
world.    The  collection  of  charts  and  maps  is  one  of 
the  most  correct  and  comprehensive  in  the  world. 
The  Lords  of  the  Admiralty  presented  Lloyd's  with 
copies  of  all  the  charts  made  from  actual  surveys, 
and  the  East  India  Company  was  equally  generous. 
The  King  of  Prussia  presented  Lloyd's  with  copies 
of  the  charts  of  the  Baltic,  all  made  from  surveys, 
and  printed  by  the  Prussian  Government.    Masters 


Lothbuiy.] 


LOTHBURY   AND   ITS  NEIGHBOURHOOD. 


i>i3 


of  all  ships,  and  of  whatever  nation,  frequenting  the 
port  of  London,  have  access  to  this  collection. 
«  Before  the  last  fire  at  the  Exchange  there  was, 
on  the  stairs  leading  to  Lloyd's,  a  monument  to 
Captain  Lydekker,  the  great  benefactor  to  the 
London  Seamen's  Hospital,  This  worthy  man 
was  a  shipowner  engaged  in  the  South  Sea  trade, 
and  some  of  his  sick  sailors  having  been  kindly 
treated  in  the  "  Dreadnought"  hospital  ship,  in 
1830,  he  gave  a  donation  of  p£"ioo  to  the  Society. 
On  his  death,  in  1833,  he  left  four  ships  and  their 
stores,  and  the  residue  of  his  estate,  after  the  pay- 
ment of  certain  legacies.  The  legacy  amounted 
to  ;^48,434  i6s.  iid.  in  the  Three  per  Cents.,  and 
;^io,295  IIS.  4d,  in  cash  was  eventually  received. 
The  monument  being  destroyed  by  the  fire  in 
1838,  a  new  monument,  by  Mr.  Sanders,  sculptor, 
was  executed  for  the  entrance  to  Lloyd's  rooms. 

The  remark  of  "  a  good  book"  or  "  a  bad  book" 
among  the  subscribers  to  Lloyd's  is  a  sure  index  to 
the  prospects  of  the  day,  the  one  being  indicative 
of  premium  to  be  received,  the  other  of  losses  to 
be  paid.  The  life  of  the  underwriter,  like  the 
stock  speculator,  is  one  of  great  anxiety,  the  events 
of  the  day  often  raising  his  expectations  to  the 
highest,  or  depressing  them  to  the  lowest  pitch ; 


and  years  are  often  spent  in  the  hope  for  acquisi- 
tion of  that  which  he  never  obtains.  Among  the 
old  stagers  of  the  room  there  is  often  strong 
antipathy  expressed  against  the  insurance  of  certain 
ships,  but  we  never  recollect  its  being  carried  out 
to  such  an  extent  as  in  the  case  of  one  vessel. 
She  was  a  steady  trader,  named  after  one  of  the 
most  venerable  members  of  the  room,  and  it  was 
a  most  curious  coincidence  that  he  invariably 
refused  to  "write  her"  for  "a  single  line."  Often 
he  was  joked  upon  the  subject,  and  pressed  "  to 
do  a  little"  for  his  namesake,  but  he  as  frequently 
denied,  shaking  his  head  in  a  doubtful  manner. 
One  morning  the  subscribers  were  reading  the 
*'  double  lines,"  or  the  losses,  and  among  them 
was  the  total  wreck  of  this  identical  ship. 

There  seems  to  have  been  a  regret  on  the  first 
opening  of  the  Exchange  for  the  coziness  and  quiet 
comfort  of  the  old  building.  Old  frequenters 
missed  the  firm  oak  benches  in  the  old  ambulatoria, 
the  walls  covered  with  placards  of  ships  about  to 
sail,  the  amusing  advertisements  and  lists  of  the 
sworn  brokers  of  London,  and  could  not  acquire  a 
rapid  friendship  for  the  encaustic  flowers  and  gay 
colours  of  the  new  design.  They  missed  the  old 
sonorous  bell,  and  the  names  of  the  old  walks. 


CHAPTER  XLIIL 
NEIGHBOURHOOD  OF  THE  BANK :— LOTHBURY. 

Lotlibury— Its  Former   Inhabitants— St.  Margaret's  Church— Tokenhouse  Yard— Origin  of  the  Name— Farthings  and  Tokens— Silver  Halfpence 
and  Pennies— Queen  Anne's  Farthings— Sir  William  Petty— Defoe's  Account  of  the  Plague  in  Tokenhouse  Yard. 


Of  Lothbury,  a  street  on  the  north  side  of  the 
Bank  of  England,  Stow  says :  "  The  Street  of  Loth- 
berie,  Lathberie,  or  Loadberie  (for  by  all  those 
names  have  I  read  it),  took  the  name  as  it  seemeth 
of  berie,  or  court,  of  old  time  there  kept,  but  by 
whom  is  grown  out  of  memory.  This  street  is 
possessed  for  the  most  part  by  founders  that  cast 
candlesticks,  chafing  dishes,  spice  mortars,  and 
such-like  copper  or  laton  works,  and  do  afterwards 
turn  them  with  the  foot  and  not  with  the  wheel,  to 
make  them  smooth  and  bright  with  turning  and 
scratching  (as  some  do  term  it),  making  a  loath- 
some noise  to  the  by-passers  that  have  not  been 
used  to  the  like,  and  therefore  by  them  disdainfully 
called  Lothberie," 

"  Lothbury,"  says  Hutton  (Queen  Anne),  "  was 
in  Stow's  time  much  inhabited  by  founders,  but 
now  by  merchants  and  warehouse-keepers,  though 
it  is  not  without  such-like  trades  as  he  mentions," 
.    Ben  Jonson  brings  in  an  allusion  to  once  noisy 


Lothbury  in  the  "Alchemist."     In  this  play  Sir 
Epicure  Mammon  says  : — 

This  night  I'll  change 

All  that  is  metal  in  my  house  to  gold  ; 

And  early  in  the  morning  will  I  send 

To  all  the  plumbers  and  the  pewterers, 

And  buy  their  tin  and  lead  up  ;  and  to  Lothbury 

For  all  the  copper. 
Surly.  What,  and  turn  that  too  ?  [Cornwall, 

Mammon.    Yes,   and   I'll  purchase   Devonshire  and 

And  make  them  perfect  Indies, 

And  again  in  his  mask  of  "  The  Gipsies  Meta- 
morphosed " — 

Bless  the  sovereign  and  his  seeing. 

«  #  *  « 

From  a  fiddle  out  of  tune, 
As  the  cuckoo  is  in  June, 
From  the  candlesticks  of  Lothbury 
And  the  loud  pure  wives  of  Banbury. 

Stow  says  of  St,  Margaret's,  Lothbury  :  "  I  find 
it  called  the  Chappel  of  St,  Margaret's  de  Loth- 
berie, in  the  reign  of  Edward  II.,  when  in  the  15th 


514 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Lothbury. 


of  that  king's  reign,  license  was  granted  to  found 
a  chauntry  there.  There  be  monuments  in  this 
church  of  Reginald  Coleman,  son  to  Robert  Cole- 
man, buried  there  1383.  This  said  Robert  Cole- 
man may  be  supposed  the  first  builder  or  owner  of 
Coleman  Street;  and  that  St.  Stephen's  Church, 
there  builded  in  Coleman  Street,  was  but  a  chappel 
belonging  to  the  parish  church  of  St.  Olave,  in  the 
Jewry."  In  niches  on  either  side  of  the  altar-piece 
are  two  flat  figures,  cut  out  of  wood,  and  painted 
to  represent  Moses  and  Aaron.  These  were  origi- 
nally in  the  Church  of  St.  Christopher  le  Stocks, 
but  when  that  church  was  pulled  down  to  make 
way  for  the  west  end  of  the  Bank  of  England,  and 
the  parish  was  united  by  Act  of  Parliament  to  that 
of  St.  Margaret,  Lothbury  (in  1781),  they  were  re- 
moved to  the  place  they  now  occupy.  At  the  west 
end  of  the  church  is  a  metal  bust  inscribed  to 
Petrus  le  Maire,  1631;  this  originally  stood  in  St. 
Christopher's,  and  was  brought  here  after  the  fire. 

This  church,  which  is  a  rectory,  seated  over 
the  ancient  course  of  Walbrook,  on  the  north  side 
of  Lothbury,  in  the  Ward  of  Coleman  Street  (says 
Maitland),  owes  its  name  to  its  being  dedicated 
to  St.  Margaret,  a  virgin  saint  of  Antioch,  who 
suffered  in  the  reign  of  Decius. 

Maitland  also  gives  the  following  epitaph  on  Sir 
John  Leigh,  1564  : — 

"No  wealth,  no  praise,  no  bright  renowne,  no  skill, 
No  force,  no  fame,  no  prince's  love,  no  toyle, 
Though  forraine  lands  by  travel  search  you  will. 
No  faithful  service  of  thy  country  soile, 
Can  life  prolong  one  minute  of  an  houre ; 
But  Death  at  length  will  execute  his  power. 
For  Sir  John  Leigh,  to  sundry  countries  knowne, 
A  worthy  knight,  well  of  his  prince  esteemed, 
By  seeing  much  to  great  experience  growne, 
Though  safe  on  seas,  though  sure  on  land  he  seemed. 
Yet  here  he  lyes,  too  soone  by  Death  opprest  ; 
His  fame  yet  lives,  his  soule  in  Heaven  hath  rest." 

The  bowl  of  the  font  (attributed  to  Grinling 
Gibbons)  is  sculptured  with  representations  of  Adam 
and  Eve  in  Paradise,  the  return  of  the  dove  to  the 
ark,  Christ  baptised  by  St.  John,  and  Philip  bap- 
tising the  eunuch. 

In  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  a  conduit  (of  which 
no  trace  now  exists)  was  erected  in  Lothbury.  It 
was  supplied  with  water  from  the  spring  of  Dame 
Anne's,  the  "  Clear,"  mentioned  by  Ben  Jonson  in 
his  "  Bartholomew  Fair." 

Tokenhouse  Yard,  leading  out  of  Lothbury, 
derived  its  name  from  an  old  house  which  was 
once  the  office  for  the  delivery  of  farthing  pocket- 
pieces,  or  tokens,  issued  for  several  centuries  by 
many  London  tradesmen.  Copper  coinage,  with 
very  few  exceptions,  was  unauthorised  in  England 


till  1672.  Edward  VI.  coined  silver  farthings, 
but  Queen  Elizabeth  conceived  a  great  prejudice 
to  copper  coins,  from  the  spurious  "  black  money," 
or  copper  coins  washed  with  silver,  which  had  got 
into  circulation.  The  silver  halfpenny,  though 
inconveniently  small,  continued  down  to  the  time 
of  the  Commonwealth.  In  the  time  of  Elizabeth, 
besides  the  Nuremberg  tokens  which  are  often 
found  in  Elizabethan  ruins,  many  provincial  cities 
issued  tokens  for  provincial  circulation,  which  were 
ultimately  called  in.  In  London  no  less  than 
3,000  persons,  tradesmen  and  others,  issued  tokens, 
for  which  the  issuer  and  his  friends  gave  current 
coin  on  delivery.  In  1594  the  Government  struck 
a  small  copper  coin,  "  the  pledge  of  a  halfpenny," 
about  the  size  of  a  silver  twopence,  but  Queen 
Elizabeth  could  never  be  prevailed  upon  to  sanction 
the  issue.  Sir  Robert  Cotton,  writing  in  1607 
(James  I.),  on  how  the  kings  of  England  have  sup- 
ported and  repaired  their  estates,  says  there  were 
then  3,000  London  tradesmen  who  cast  annually 
each  about  ^5  worth  of  lead  tokens,  their  store 
amounting  to  some  ^^i  5,000.  London  having  then 
about  800,000  inhabitants,  this  amounted  to  about 
2d.  a  person ;  and  he  urged  the  King  to  restrain 
tradesmen  from  issuing  these  tokens.  In  con- 
sequence of  this  representation,  James,  in  1613 
issued  royal  farthing  tokens  (two  sceptres  in  saltier 
and  a  crown  on  one  side,  and  a  harp  on  the  other) 
so  that  if  the  English  took  a  dislike  to  them  they 
might  be  ordered  to  pass  in  Ireland.  They  were 
not  made  a  legal  tender,  and  had  but  a  narrow 
circulation.  In  1635  Charles  I.  struck  more  of 
these,  and  in  1636  granted  a  patent  for  the  coinage 
of  farthings  to  Henry  Lord  Maltravers  and  Sir 
Francis  Crane.  During  the  Civil  War  tradesmen 
again  issued  heaps  of  tokens,  the  want  of  copper 
money  being  greatly  felt.  Charles  II.  had  half- 
pence and  farthings  struck  at  the  Tower  in  1670, 
and  two  years  afterwards  they  were  made  a  legal 
tender,  by  proclamation ;  they  were  of  pure  Swedish 
copper.  In  1685  there  was  a  coinage  of  tin  far- 
things, with  a  copper  centre,  and  the  inscription, 
*^  Ntt}n7fWJ-um  fajmihis."  The  following  year  half- 
pence of  the  same  description  were  issued,  and  the 
use  of  copper  was  not  resumed  till  1693,  when  all 
the  tin  money  was  called  in.  Speaking  of  the 
supposed  mythical  Queen  Anne's  farthing,  Mr. 
Pinkerton  says: — "All  the  farthings  of  the  fol- 
lowing reign  of  Anne  are  trial  pieces,  since  that  of 
1712,  her  last  year.  They  are  of  most  exquisite 
workmanship,  exceeding  most  copper  coins  of 
ancient  or  modern  times,  and  will  do  honour  to 
the  engraver,  Mr.  Croker,  to  the  end  of  time.  The 
one  whose  reverse  is  Peace  in  a  car,  Fax  missa^er 


Throgmorton  Street.] 


THROGMORTON   STREET. 


5^5 


orbem,  is  the  most  esteemed;  and  next  to  it  the 
Britannia  under  a  portal ;  the  other  farthings  are 
not  so  vakiable."  We  posses^  a  complete  series 
of  silver  pennies,  from  the  reign  of  Egbert  to  the 
present  day  (with  the  exception  of  the  reigns  of 
Richard  and  John,  the  former  coining  in  France, 
the  latter  in  Ireland). 

Tokenhouse  Yard  was  built  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  I,,  on  the  site  of  a  house  and  garden  of 
the  Earl  of  Arundel  (removed  to  the  Strand),  by 
Sir  William  Petty,  an  early  writer  on  political 
economy,  and  a  lineal  ancestor  of  the  present 
Marquis  of  Lansdowne.  This  extraordinary  genius, 
the  son  of  a  Hampshire  clothier,  was  one  of  the 
earliest  members  of  the  Royal  Society.  He  studied 
anatomy  with  Hobbes  in  Paris,  wrote  numerous 
philosophical  works,  suggested  improvements  for 
the  navy,  and,  in  fact,  explored  almost  every  path 
of  science.  Aubrey  says  that,  being  challenged 
by  Sir  Hierom  Sankey,  one  of  Cromwell's  knights. 
Petty  being  short-sighted,  chose  for  place  a  dark 
cellar,  and  for  weapons  a  big  carpenter's  axe. 
Petty's  house  was  destroyed  in  the  Fire  of  London. 
John  Grant,  says  Peter  Cunningham,  also  had  pro- 
perty in  Tokenhouse  Yard.  It  was  for  Grant  that 
Petty  is  said  to  have  compiled  the  bills  of  mortality 
which  bear  his  name. 

Defoe,  who,  however,  was  only  three  years  old 
when  the  Plague  broke  out,  has  laid  one  of  the 
most  terrible  scenes  in  his  "  History  of  the  Plague  " 
in  Tokenhouse  Yard.  "  In  my  walks,"  he  says,  "  I 
had  many  dismal  scenes  before  my  eyes,  as  particu- 
larly of  persons  falling  dead  in  the  streets,  terrible 
shrieks  and  screeching  of  women,  who  in  their 
agonies  would  throw  open  their  chamber  windows, 


and  cry  out  in  a  dismal  surprising  manner.  Passing 
through  Tokenhouse  Yard,  in  Lothbury,  of  a  sudden 
a  casement  violently  opened  just  over  my  head, 
and  a  woman  gave  three  frightful  screeches,  and 
then  cried,  '  Oh  !  death,  death,  death  ! "  in  a  most 
inimitable  tone,  which  struck  me  with  horror,  and 
a  chilliness  in  my  very  blood.  There  was  nobody 
to  be  seen  in  the  whole  street,  neither  did  any  other 
window  open,  for  people  had  no  curiosity  now  in 
any  case,  nor  could  anybody  help  one  another. 
Just  in  Bell  Alley,  on  the  right  hand  of  the  passage, 
there  was  a  more  terrible  cry  than  that,  though  it 
was  not  so  directed  out  at  the  window;  but  the 
whole  family  was  in  a  terrible  fright,  and  I  could 
hear  women  and  children  run  screaming  about  the 
rooms  like  distracted ;  when  a  garret  window  opened, 
and  somebody  from  a  window  on  the  other  side  the 
alley  called  and  asked,  'What  is  the  matter?* 
upon  which,  from  the  first  window  it  was  answered, 
*  Ay,  ay,  quite  dead  and  cold  ! '  This  person  was 
a  merchant,  and  a  deputy-alderman,  and  very  rich. 
But  this  is  but  one.  It  is  scarce  credible  what 
dreadful  cases  happened  in  particular  families  every 
day.  People  in  the  rage  of  the  distemper,  or  in 
the  torment  of  their  swellings,  which  was,  indeed, 
intolerable,  running  out  of  their  own  government, 
raving  and  distracted,  oftentimes  laid  violent  hands 
upon  themselves,  throwing  themselves  out  at  their 
windows,  shooting  themselves,  &c. ;  mothers  mur- 
dering their  own  children  in  their  lunacy;  some 
dying  of  mere  grief,  as  a  passion ;  some  of  mere 
fright  and  surprise,  without  any  infection  at  all ; 
others  frighted  into  idiotism  and  foolish  distractions, 
some  into  despair  and  lunacy,  others  into  melan- 
choly madness." 


CHAPTER   XLIV. 
THROGMORTON   STREET.— THE   DRAPERS'  COMPANY. 

Halls  of  the  Drapers'  Company— Throgmorton  Street  and  its  many  Fair  Houses— Drapers  and  Wool  Merchants— The  Drapers  In  Olden  Times— 
Milborne's  Chanty— Dress  and  Livery— Election  Dinner  of  the  Drapers'  Company— A  Draper's  Funeral— Ordinances  and  Pensions — Fifty- 
three  Draper  Mayors— Pageants  and  Processions  of  the  Drapers— Charters— Details  of  the  present  Drapers'  Hall— Arms  of  the  Drapers' 
Company. 


Throgmorton  Street  is  at  the  north-east  comer 
of  the  Bank  of  England,  and  was  so  called  after 
Sir  Nicholas  Throgmorton,  who  is  said  to  have 
been  poisoned  by  Dudley,  Earl  of  Leicester,  Queen 
Elizabeth's  favourite.  There  is  a  monument  to  his 
memory  in  the  Church  of  St.  Catherine  Cree. 

The  Drapers'  first  Hall,  according  to  Herbert, 
was  in  Cornhill ;  the  second  was  in  Thrc^morton 


Street,  to  which  they  came  in  1541  (Henry  VIII.), 
on  the  beheading  of  Cromwell,  Earl  of  Essex,  its 
previous  owner ;  and  the  present  structure  was  re- 
erected  on  its  site,  after  the  Great  Fire  of  London. 
Stow,  describing  the  Augustine  Friars'  Church, 
says  there  have  been  built  at  its  west  end  "  many 
feyre  houses,  namely,  in  Throgmorton  Streete  ;" 
and  among  the  rest,  "  one  very  larg^  and  spacious," 


5i6 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Throgtnorton  Street. 


builded,  he  says,  "  in  place  of  olde  and  small  tene- 
ments, by  Thomas  Cromwell,  minister  of  the  King's 
jewell-house,  after  that  Maister  of  the  Rolls,  then 
Lord  Cromwell,  Knight,  Lord  Privie  Scale,  Vicker- 
Generall,  Earle  of  Essex,  High  Chamberlain  of 
England,  &c. ;"  and  he  then  tells  the  following 
story  respecting  it : — 

"  This  house  being  finished,  and  having  some 
reasonable  plot  of  ground  left  for  a  garden,  hee 
caused  the  pales  of  the  gardens  adjoining  to  the 
north   parte  thereof,  on  a  sodaine,  to  bee  taken 


vjs.  viij<i-  the  yeare,  for  that  halfe  which  was  left 
Thus  much  of  mine  owne  knowledge  have  I 
thought  goode  to  note,  that  the  sodaine  rising  of 
some  men  causeth  them  to  forget  themselves." 
("Survaie  of  London,"  1598.) 

The  Company  was  incorporated  in  1439  (Henry 
VL),  but  it  also  possesses  a  charter  granted  them 
by  Edward  HL,  that  they  might  regulate  the  sale 
of  cloths  according  to  the  statute.  Drapers  were 
originally  makers,  not  merely,  as  now,  dealers  in 
cloth.  (Herbert.)    The  country  drapers  were  called 


iNTERJOR   OF  drapers'   HALL. 


down,  twenty-two  foote  to  be  measured  forth  right 
into  the  north  of  every  man's  ground,  a  line  there 
to  be  drawne,  a  trench  to  be  cast,  a  foundation 
laid,  and  a  high  bricke  wall  to  be  builded.  My 
father  had  a  garden  there,  and  an  house  standing 
close  to  his  south  pale ;  this  house  they  loosed 
from  the  ground,  and  bore  upon  rollers  into  my 
father's  garden,  twenty-two  foot,  ere  my  father 
heard  thereof.  No  warning  was  given  him,  nor 
other  answere,  when  hee  spoke  to  the  surveyors  of 
that  worke,  but  that  their  mayster.  Sir  Thomas, 
commanded  them  so  to  doe ;  no  man  durst  go 
to  argue  the  matter,  but  each  man  lost  his  land, 
and  my  father  payde  his  whole  rent,  whiche  was 


clothiers  ;  the  wool-merchants,  staplers.  The  Bri- 
tons and  Saxons  were  both,  according  to  the  best 
authorities,  familiar  with  the  art  of  cloth-making ; 
but  the  greater  part  of  English  wool,  from  the 
earhest  times,  seems  to  have  been  sent  to  the 
Netherlands,  and  from  thence  returned  in  the  shape 
of  fine  cloth,  since  we  find  King  Ethelred,  as  early 
as  967,  exacting  from  the  Easterhng  merchants  of 
the  Steel  Yard,  in  Thames  Street,  tolls  of  cloth, 
which  were  paid  at  Billingsgate. 

The  width  of  woollen  cloth  is  prescribed  in 
Magna  Charta.  There  was  a  weavers'  guild  in  the 
reign  of  Henry  I.,  and  the  drapers  are  mentioned 
soon  after  as  flourishing  in  all  the  large  provincial 


Throgmorton  Street.]  THE   BOOKS    OF   THE    DRAPERS'    COMPANY. 


517 


cities.  It  is  supposed  that  the  cloths  sold  by  such 
drapers  were  red,  green,  and  scarlet  cloths,  made 
in  Flanders,  In  the  next  reign  English  cloths, 
made  of  Spanish  wool,  are  spoken  of.  Drapers 
are  recorded  in  the  reign  of  Henry  II.  as  paying 
fines  to  the  king  for  permission  to  sell  dyed 
cloths.  In  the  same  reign,  English  cloths  made 
of  Spanish  wool  are  mentioned.  In  the  reign 
of  Edward  I.,  the  cloth  of  Candlewick  Street 
(Cannon  Street)  was  famous.  The  guild  paid  the 
king  two  marks  of  gold  every  year  at  the  feast  of 
Michaelmas. 


the  London  drapers  at  first  opposing  the  right  of 
the  country  clothiers  to  sell  in  gross. 

The  drapers  for  a  long  time  lingered  about 
Comhill,  where  they  had  first  settled,  Hving  in 
Birchin  Lane,  and  spreading  as  far  as  the  Stocks' 
Market ;  but  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VI,  the 
drapers  had  all  removed  to  Cannon  Street,  where 
we  find  them  tempting  Lydgate's  "  London  Lick- 
penny  "  with  their  wares.  In  this  reign  arms  were 
granted  to  the  Comjiany,  and  the  grant  is  still 
preserved  in  the  British  Museum. 

The  books  of  the  Company  commence  in  the 


drapers'  hall  garden. 


But  Edward  III.,  jealous  of  the  Netherlands, 
set  to  work  to  establish  the  English  cloth  manufac- 
ture. He  forbade  the  exportation  of  English  wool, 
and  invited  over  seventy  Walloon  weaver  families, 
who  settled  in  Cannon  Street.  The  Flemings  had 
their  meeting-place  in  St.  Lawrence  Poultney  church- 
yard, and  the  Brabanters  in  the  churchyard  of  St. 
Mary  Somerset.  In  1361  the  king  removed  the 
wool  staple  from  Calais  to  Westminster  and  nine 
English  towns.  In  1378  Richard  II.  again  changed 
the  wool  staple  from  Westminster  to  Staples'  Inn, 
Holborn  ;  and  in  1397  a  weekly  cloth-market  was 
established  at  Blackwell  Hall,  Basinghall  Street; 
44 


reign  of  Edward  IV.,  and  are  full  of  curious  details 
relating  to  dress,  observances,  government,  and 
trade.  Edward  IV.,  it  must  be  remembered,  in 
1479,  when  he  had  invited  the  mayor  and  alder- 
men to  a  great  hunt  at  Waltham  Forest,  not  to 
forget  the  City  ladies,  sent  them  two  harts,  six 
bucks,  and  a  tun  of  wine,  with  which  noble  pre- 
sent the  lady  mayoress  (wife  of  Sir  Bartholomew 
James,  Draper)  entertained  the  aldermen's  wives  at 
Drapers'  Hall,  St.  Swithin's  Lane,  Cannon  Street, 
The  chief  extracts  from  the  Drapers'  records  made 
by  Herbert  are  the  following  : — 

In    1476   forty  of  the   Company  rode  to  meet 


'5i8 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Throgmorton  Street, 


Edward  IV.  on  his  return  from  France,  at  a  cost  of 
;^2o.  In  1483  they  sent  six  persons  to  welcome 
the  unhappy  Edward  V.,  whom  the  Dukes  of 
Gloucester  and  Buckingham,  preparatory  to  his 
murder,  had  brought  to  London  j  and  in  the 
following  November,  the  Company  dispatched 
twenty-two  of  the  livery,  in  many-coloured  coats, 
to  attend  the  coronation  procession  of  Edward's 
wicked  hunchback  uncle,  Richard  III.  Presently 
they  mustered  200  men,  on  the  rising  of  the 
Kentish  rebels ;  and  again,  in  Finsbury  Fields,  at 
"  the  coming  of  the  Northern  men."  They  paid 
9s.  for  boat  hire  to  Westminster,  to  attend  the 
funeral  of  Queen  Anne  (Richard's  queen). 

In  Henry  VII. 's  reign,  we  find  the  Drapers 
again  boating  to  Westminster,  to  present  their  bill 
for  the  reformation  of  cloth-making.  The  barge 
seems  to  have  been  well  supphed  with  ribs  of 
beef,  wine,  and  pippins.  We  find  the  ubiquitous 
Company  at  many  other  ceremonies  of  this  reign, 
such  as  the  coronation  of  the  queen,  &c. 

In  1 49 1  the  Merchant  Taylors  came  to  a  con- 
ference at  Drapers'  Hall,  about  some  disputes  in  the 
cloth  trade,  and  were  hospitably  entertained  with 
bread  and  >vine.  In  the  great  riots  at  the  Steel 
Yard,  when  the  London  'prentices  tried  to  sack  the 
Flemish  warehouses,  the  Drapers  helped  to  guard 
the  depot,  with  weapons,  cressets,  and  banners. 
They  probably  also  mustered  for  the  king  at 
Blackheath  against  the  Cornish  insurgents.  We 
meet  them  again  at  the  procession  that  welcomed 
Princess  Katherine  of  Spain,  who  married  Prince 
Arthur;  then,  in  the  Lady  Chapel  at  St.  Paul's, 
listening  to  Prince  Arthur's  requiem ;  and,  again, 
bearing  twelve  enormous  torches  of  wax  at  the 
burial  of  Henry  VII.,  the  prince's  father. 

In  1 5 14  (Henry  VIII.)  Sir  WiUiam  Capell  left 
tlie  Drapers'  Company  houses  in  various  parts  of 
London,  on  condition  of  certain  prayers  being 
read  for  his  soul,  and  certain  doles  being  given. 
In  1521  the  Company,  sorely  against  its  will,  was 
compelled  by  the  arbitrary  king  to  help  fit  out  five 
ships  of  discovery  for  Sebastian  Cabot,  whose 
father  had  discovered  Newfoundland.  They  called 
it  "  a  sore  adventure  to  jeopard  ships  with  men 
and  goods  unto  the  said  island,  upon  the  singular 
trust  of  one  man,  called,  as  they  understood, 
Sebastian."  But  Wolsey  and  the  King  would  have 
no  nay,  and  the  Company  had  to  comply.  The 
same  year,  Sir  John  Brugge,  Mayor  and  Draper, 
being  invited  to  the  Serjeants'  Feast  at  Ely  House, 
Holbom,  the  masters  of  the  Drapers  and  seven 
other  crafts  attended  in  their  best  livery  gowns  and 
hoods  ;  the  Mayor  presiding  at  the  high  board,  the 
Master  of  the  Rolls  at  the  second,  the  Master  of 


the  Drapers  at  the  third.  Another  entry  in  the 
same  year  records  a  sum  of  ^{^22  15  s.  spent  on 
thirty-two  yards  of  crimson  satin,  given  as  a 
present  to  win  the  good  graces  of  "  my  Lord 
Cardinal,"  the  proud  Wolsey,  and  also  twenty 
marks  given  him,  "  as  a  pleasure,"  to  obtain  for 
the  Company  more  power  in  the  management  of 
the  Blackwell  Hall  trade. 

In  1527  great  disputes  arose  between  the  Drapers 
and  the  Cmtched  Friars.  Sir  John  Milborne,  who 
was  several  times  master  of  the  Company,  and 
mayor  in  15  21,  had  built  thirteen  almshouses, 
near  the  friars'  church,  for  thirteen  old  men,  who 
were  daily  at  his  tomb  to  say  prayers  for  his  soul. 
There  was  also  to  be  an  anniversary  obit.  The 
Drapers'  complaint  was  that  the  religious  services 
were  neglected,  and  that  the  friars  had  encroached 
on  the  ground  of  Milborne's  charity.  Henry  VIII, 
afterwards  gave  Crutched  Friars  to  Sir  Thomas 
■\Vyat,  the  poetical  friend  of  the  Earl  of  Surrey, 
who  built  a  mansion  there,  which  was  afterwards 
Lumley  House.  At  the  dissolution  of  monasteries, 
the  Company  paid  ^^1,402  6s.  for  their  chantries 
and  obits. 

The  dress  or  livery  of  the  Company  seems  to 
have  varied  more  than  that  of  any  other — from 
violet,  crimson,  murrey,  blue,  blue  and  crimson,  to 
brown,  puce.  In  the  reign  of  James  I.  a  uniform 
garb  was  finally  adopted.  The  observances  of  the 
Company  at  elections,  funerals,  obits,  and  pageants 
were  quaint,  friendly,  and  clubable  enough.  Every 
year,  at  Lady  Day,  the  whole  body  of  the  fellow- 
ship in  new  livery  went  to  Bow  Church  (afterwards 
to  St.  Michael's,  Cornhill),  there  heard  the  Lady 
Mass,  and  offered  each  a  silver  penny  on  the 
altar.  At  evensong  they  again  attended,  and  heard 
dirges  chanted  for  deceased  members.  On  the 
following  day  they  came  and  heard  the  Mass  of 
Requiem,  and  offered  another  silver  penny.  On 
the  day  of  the  feast  they  walked  two  and  two 
in  livery  to  the  dining-place,  each  member  paying 
three  shillings  the  year  that  no  clothes  were 
supplied,  and  two  shillings  only  when  they  were. 
The  year's  quarterage  was  sevenpence.  In  1522 
the  election  dinner  consisted  of  fowls,  swans, 
geese,  pike,  half  a  buck,  pasties,  conies,  pigeons, 
tarts,  pears,  and  filberts.  The  guests  all  washed 
after  dinner,  standing.  At  the  side-tables  ale  and 
claret  were  served  in  wooden  cups ;  but  at  the 
high  table  they  gave  pots  and  wooden  cups  for  ale 
and  wine,  but  for  red  wine  and  hippocras  gilt  cups. 
After  being  served  with  wafers  and  spiced  wine, 
the  masters  went  among  the  guests  and  gatherefl 
the  quarterage.  The  old  master  then  rose  and 
went  into  the  parlour,  with  a  garland  on  his  head 


"*'  Throgmorton  Street.] 


THE  DRAPERS  AT  A  FUNERAL. 


519 


and  his  cupbearer  before  him,  and,  going  straight  to 
the  upper  end  of  the  high  board,  without  minstrels, 
chose  the  new  master,  and  then  sat  down.  Then 
the  masters  went  into  the  parlour,  and  took  their 
garlands  and  four  cupbearers,  and  crossed  the  great 
parlour  till  they  came  to  the  upper  end  of  the 
high  board ;  and  there  the  chief  warden  delivered 
his  garland  to  the  warden  he  chose,  and  the  three 
other  wardens  did  likewise,  proffering  the  garlands 
to  divers  persons,  and  at  last  delivering  them 
to  the  real  persons  selected.  After  this  all  the 
company  rose  and  greeted  the  new  master  and 
wardens,  and  the  dessert  began.  At  some  of  these 
great  feasts  some  230  people  sat  down.  The 
lady  members  and  guests  sometimes  dined  with 
the  brothers,  and  sometimes  in  separate  rooms. 
At  the  Midsummer  dinner,  or  dinners,  of  1515, 
six  bucks  seem  to  have  been  eaten,  besides  three 
boars,  a  barrelled  sturgeon,  twenty-four  dozen 
quails ;  three  hogsheads  of  wine,  twenty-one  gal- 
lons of  muscadel,  and  thirteen  and  a  half  barrels 
of  ale.  It  was  usual  at  these  generous  banquets 
to  have  players  and  minstrels. 

The  funerals  of  the  Company  generally  ended 
with  a  dinner,  at  which  thq  chaplains  and  a  chosen 
few  of  the  Company  feasted.  The  Company's  pall 
was  always  used ;  and  on  one  occasion,  in  1518,  we 
find  a  silver  spoon  given  to  each  of  the  six  bearers. 
Spiced  bread,  bread  and  cheese,  fruit,  and  ale  were 
also  partaken  of  at  these  obits,  sometimes  at  the 
church,  sometimes  at  a  neighbouring  tavern.  At 
the  funeral  of  Sir  Roger  Achilley,  Lord  Mayor  in 
15 13,  there  seem  to  have  been  twenty-four  torch- 
bearers.  The  pews  were  apparently  hung  with 
black,  and  children  holding  torches  stood  by  the 
hearse.  The  Company  maintained  two  priests  at 
St.  Michael's,  Cornhill.  The  funeral  of  Sir  William 
Roche,  Mayor  in  1523,  was  singularly  splendid. 
First  came  two  branches  of  white  wax,  borne 
before  the  priests  and  clerks,  who  paced  in 
surplices,  singing  as  they  paced.  Then  followed  a 
standard,  blazoned  with  the  dead  man's  crest — a 
red  deer's  head,  with  gilt  horns,  and  gold  and 
green  wings.  Next  followed  mourners,  and  after 
them  the  herald,  with  the  dead  man's  coat  armour, 
checkered  silver  and  azure.  Then  followed  the 
corpse,  attended  by  clerks  and  the  livery.  After 
the  corpse  came  the  son,  the  chief  mourner,  and 
two  other  couples  of  mourners.  The  sword-bearer 
and  Lord  Mayor,  in  state,  walked  next ;  then 
the  aldermen,  sheriffs,  and  the  Drapery  livery, 
followed  by  all  the  ladies,  gentlewomen,  and 
aldermen's  wives.  After  the  dirge,  they  all  went 
to  the  dead  man's  house,  and  partook  of  spiced 
bread  and  comfits,  with  ale  and  beer.     The  next 


day  the  mourners  had  a  collection  at  the  church. 
Then   the   chief  mourners   presented   the   target, 
sword,  helmet,  and  banners  to  the  priests,  and  a 
collection  was  made  for  the  poor.     Directly  after 
the  sacrament,  the  mourners  went  to  Mrs.  Roche's  .- 
house,  and  dined,  the  livery  dining  at  the  Drapers'  "■ 
Hall,  the  deceased  having  left  j[^(i  15s.  4d.  for  that  ' 
purpose.     The  record  concludes,  thus  :  "  And  my  , 
Lady  Roche^  of  her  gentylness,  sent  them  moreover 
four  gallons   of  French  wine,  and  also  a  box  of 
wafers,  and  a  pottell  of  ipocras.     For  whose  soul 
let  us  pray,  and  all  Christian  souls.     Amen."    The 
Company  maintained  priests,  altars,  and  lights  at 
St.   Mary  Woolnoth's,  St.  Michael's,  Cornhill,  St. 
Thomas  of  Aeon,  Austin  Friars,  and  the   Priory 
of  St.  Bartholomew. 

The  Drapers'  ordinances  are  of  great  interest. 
Every  apprentice,  on  being  enrolled,  paid  fees, 
which  went  to  a  fund  called  "  spoon  silver."  The 
mode  of  correcting  these  wayward  lads  was  some- 
times singular.  Thus  we  find  one  Needswell  in 
the  parlour,  on  court  day,  flogged  by  two  tall 
men,  disguised  in  canvas  frocks,  hoods,  and 
vizors,  twopennyworth  of  birchen  rods  being  ex- 
pended on  his  moral  improvement.  The  Drapers 
had  a  special  ordinance,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  IV., 
to  visit  the  fairs  of  Westminster,  St.  Bartholomew, 
Spitalfields,  and  Southwark,  to  make  a  trade  search, 
and  to  measure  doubtful  goods  by  the  "  Drapers' 
ell,"  a  standard  said  to  have  been  granted  them 
by  King  Edward  III.  Bread,  wine,  and  pears 
seem  to  have  been  the  frugal  entertainment  of  the 
searchers. 

Decayed  brothers  were  always  pensioned  ;  thus 
we  find,  in  1526,  Sir  Laurence  Aylmer,  who  had 
actually  been  mayor  in  1507,  applying  for  alms,  and 
relieved,  we  regret  to  state,  somewhat  grudgingly. 
In  1834  Mr.  Lawford,  clerk  of  the  Company,  stated 
to  the  Commissioners  of  Municipal  Inquiry  that 
there  were  then  sixty  poor  freemen  on  the  charity 
roll,  who  received  j[^\o  a  year  each.  The  master 
and  wardens  also  gave  from  the  Company's  bounty 
quarterly  sums  of  money  to  about  fifty  or  sixty 
other  poor  persons.  In  cases  where  members  of 
the  court  fell  into  decay,  they  received  pensions 
during  the  court's  pleasure.  One  person  of  high 
repute,  then  recently  deceased,  had  received  the 
sum  of  ;!^2oo  per  annum,  and  on  this  occasion 
the  City  had  given  him  back  his  sheriff's  fine. 
The  attendance  fee  given  to  members  of  the  court 
was  two  guineas. 

From  1531  to  171 4,  Strj^pe  reckons  fifty-three 
Draper  mayors.  Eight  of  these  were  the  heads  of 
noble  families,  forty-three  were  knights  or  baronets, 
fifteen  represented  the  City  in  Parliament,  seven 


520 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Throgmorton  Street. 


were  founders  of  churches  and  public  institu- 
tions. The  Earls  of  Bath  and  Essex,  the  Barons 
Wotton,  and  the  Dukes  of  Chandos  are  among  the 
noble  families  which  derive  their  descent  from 
members  of  this  illustrions  Company.  That  great 
citizen,  Henry  Fitz-Alwin,  the  son  of  Leofstan, 
Goldsmith,  and  provost  of  London,  was  a  Draper, 
and  held  the  office  of  mayor  for  twenty-four 
successive  years. 

In  the  Drapers'  Lord  Mayors'  shows  the  barges 
seem  to  have  been  covered  with  blue  or  red  cloth. 
The  trumpeters  wore  crimson  hats  ;  and  the 
banners,  pennons,  and  streamers  were  fringed 
with  silk,  and  *'  beaten  with  gold."  The  favourite 
pageants  were  those  of  the  Assumption  and  St. 
Ursula.  The  Drapers'  procession  on  the  mayoralty 
of  one  of  their  members,  Sir  Robert  Clayton,  is 
thus  described  by  Jordan  in  his  "London  In- 
dustre :" — 

"  In  proper  habits,  orderly  arrayed. 

The  movements  of  the  7norning  are  displayed. 
Selected  citizens  i'  th*  morning  all, 
At  seven  a  clock,  do  meet  at  Drapers'  Hall. 
The  master,  wardens,  and  assistants  joyn 
For  the  first  rank,  in  their  gowns  fac'd  with  Foyn. 
The  second  order  do,  in'merry  moods, 
March  in  gowns  fac'd  with  Budge  and  livery  hoods. 
In  gowns  and  scarlet  hoods  thirdly  appears 
A  youthful  number  of  Foyn's  Batchellors  ; 
Forty  Budge  Batchellors  the  triumph  crowns. 
Gravely  attir'd  in  scarlet  hoods  and  gowns. 

Gentlemen  Ushers  which  white  staves  do  hold 
Sixty,  in  velvet  coats  and  chains  of  gold. 
,     Next,  thirty  more  in  plush  and  buff  there  are. 
That  several  colours  wear,  and  banners  bear. 
The  Serjeant  Trumpet  thirty-six  more  brings 
(Twenty  the  Duke  of  York's,  sixteen  the  King's). 
The  Serjeant  wears  two  scarfs,  whose  colours  be 
One  the  Lord  Mayor's,  t'other's  the  Company. 
The  King's  Drum  Major,  follow'd  by  four  more 
1        Of  the  King's  drums  and  fifes,  make  London  roar." 

"  ^Vhat  gives  the  festivities  of  this  Company  an 
unique  zest,"  says  Herbert,  "however,  is  the  visitors 
at  them,  and  which  included  a  now  extinct  race. 
We  here  suddenly  find  ourselves  in  company  with 
abbots,  priors,  and  other  heads  of  monastic  esta- 
blishments, and  become  so  familiarised  with  the 
abbot  of  Tower  Hill,  the  prior  of  St.  Mary  Ovary, 
Christ  Church,  St.  Bartholomew's,  the  provincial 
and  the  prior  of  'Freres  Austyn's,'  the  master  of 
St.  Thomas  Aeon's  and  St.  Laurence  Pulteney,  and 
others  of  the  metropolitan  conventual  clergy,  most 
of  whom  we  find  amongst  their  constant  yearly 
visitors,  that  we  almost  fancy  ourselves  living  in 
their  times,  and  of  their  acquaintance." 

The  last  public  procession  of  the  Drapers'  Com- 
pany was  in  1 76 1,  when  the  master  wardens  and 
court  of  assistants  walked  in  rank  to  hear  a  sermon 


at  St.  Peter's,  Comhill;  a  number  of  them  each 
carried  a  pair  of  shoes,  stockings,  and  a  suit  of 
clothes,  tlie  annual  legacy  to  the  poor  of  tliis 
Company. 

The  Drapers  possess  seven  original  charters,  all 
of  them  with  the  Great  Seal  attached,  finely  written, 
and  in  excellent  preservation.  These  charters  com- 
prise those  of  Edward  I.,  Henry  VL,  Edward  IV., 
Philip  and  Mary,  Elizabeth,  and  two  of  James  I, 
The  latter  is  the  acting  charter  of  the  company. 
In  4  James  I.,  the  company  is  entitled  "The 
Master  and  Wardens  and  Brothers  and  Sisters  of 
the  Guild  or  Fraternity  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary, 
of  the  Mystery  of  Drapers  of  the  City  of  London." 
In  Maitland's  time  (1756),  the  Company  devoted 
;^4,ooo  a  year  to  charitable  uses. 


CROMWELL'S  HOUSE,    FROM  AGGAS'S  MAP, 
{Takc7i/rovi  Herbert's  "  City  Companies") 

Aggas's  drawing  represents  Cromwell  House 
almost  windowless,  on  the  street  side,  and  with 
three  small  embattled  turrets  ;  and  there  was  a 
footway  through  the  garden  of  Winchester  House, 
which  forms  the  present  passage  (says  Herbert) 
from  the  east  end  of  Throgmorton  Street,  through 
Austin  Friars  to  Great  Winchester  Street.  The 
Great  Fire  stopped  northwards  at  Drapers'  Hall. 
The  renter  warden  lost  ^£446  of  the  Company's 
money,  but  the  Company's  plate  was  buried  safely 
in  a  sewer  in  the  garden.  Till  the  hall  could 
be  rebuilt,  Sir  Robert  Clayton  lent  the  Drapers  a 
large  room  in  Austin  Friars.  The  hall  was  rebuilt 
by  Jarman,  who  built  the  second  Exchange  and 
Fishmongers'  Hall.  The  hall  had  a  very  narrow 
escape  (says  Herbert)  in  1774  from  a  fire,  which 


llirogmorton  Street.] 


THE  .GLORIES  OF  DRAPERS'   HALt. 


S^i-V 


broke  out  in  the  vaults  beneath  the  hall  (let  out  as 
a  store-cellar),  and  destroyed  a  considerable  part 
of  the  building,  together  with  a  number  of  houses 
on  the  west  side  of  Austin  Friars. 

The  present  Drapers'  Hall  is  Mr.  Jarman's 
structure,  but  altered,  and  partly  rebuilt  after  the 
fire  in  1774,  and  partly  rebuilt  again  in  1870.  It 
principally  consists  of  a  spacious  quadrangle,  sur- 
rounded by  a  fine  piazza  or  ambulatory  of  arches, 
supported  by  columns.  The  quiet  old  garden 
greatly  improves  the  hall,  which,  from  this  appen- 
dage, and  its  own  elegance,  might  be  readily 
supposed  the  mansion  of  a  person  of  high  rank. 

The  present  Throgmorton  Street  front  of  the 
building  is  of  stone  and  marble,  and  was  built 
by  Mr.  Herbert  Williams,  who  also  erected  the 
splendid  new  hall,  removing  the  old  gallery,  adding 
a  marble  staircase  fit  for  an  emperor's  palace,  and 
new  facing  the  court-room,  the  ceiling  of  which 
was  at  the  same  time  raised.  Marble  pillars, 
stained  glass  windows,  carved  marble  mantel- 
pieces, gilt  panelled  ceilings — everything  that  is 
rich  and  tasteful — the  architect  has  used  with 
lavish  profusion. 

The  buildings  of  the  former  interior  were  of  fine 
red  brick,  but  the  front  and  entrance,  in  Throg- 
morton Street,  was  of  a  yellow  brick ;  both  interior 
and  exterior  were  highly  enriched  with  stone  orna- 
ments. Over  the  gateway  was  a  large  sculpture  of 
the  Drapers'  arms,  a  cornice  and  frieze,  the  latter 
displaying  lions'  heads,  rams'  heads,  &c,,  in  small 
circles,  and  various  other  architectural  decora- 
tions. V 

The  old  hall,  properly  so  called,  occupied  the 
eastern  side  of  the  quadrangle,  the  ascent  to  it 
being  by  a  noble,  stone  staircase,  covered,  and 
highly  embellished  by  stucco-work,  gilding,  &c. 
The  stately  screen  of  this  magnificent  apartment 
was  curiously  decorated  with  carved  pillars,  pilas- 
ters, arches,  &c.  The  ceiling  was  divided  into 
numerous  compartments,  chiefly  circular,  display- 
ing, in  the  centre.  Phaeton  in  his  car,  and  round 
him  the  signs  of  the  zodiac,  and  various  other 
enrichments.  In  the  wainscoting  was  a  neat  recess, 
with  shelves,  whereon  the  Company's  plate,  which, 
both  for  quality  and  workmanship,  is  of  great  value, 
was  displayed  at  their  feasts.  Above  the  screen,  at 
the  end  opposite  the  master's  chair,  hung  a  portrait 
of  Lord  Nelson,  by  Sir  William  Beechey,  for  which 
the  Company  paid  four  hundred  guineas,  together 
with  the  portrait  of  Fitz-Alwin,  the  great  Draper, 
already  mentioned.  "  In  denominating  this  portrait 
ciiriotis,''  says  Herbert,  "  we  give  as  high  praise  as 
can  be  afforded  it.  Oil-painting  was  totally  unknown 
to  England  in  Fitz-Alwin's  time  j  the  style  of  dress, 


and  its  execution  as  a  work  of  art,  are  also  too 
modern." 

In  the  gallery,  between  the  old  hall  and  the 
livery-room,  were  full-length  portraits  of  the  Eng- 
lish sovereigns,  from  William  III.  to  George  III., 
together  with  a  full-length  portrait  of  George  IV., 
by  Lawrence,  and  the  celebrated  picture  of  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots,  and  her  son,  James  L,  by  Zucchero. 
The  portrait  of  the  latter  king  is  a  fine  specimen  of 
the  master,  and  is  said  to  have  cost  the  Company 
between  ;^6oo  and  j£,1oo.  "  It  has  a  fault,  how- 
ever," says  Herbert,  "  observable  in  other  portraits 
of  this  monarch,  that  of  the  likeness  being  flattered. 
If  it  was  not  uncourteous  so  to  say,  we  should  call 
it  George  IV.  with  the  face  of  the  Prince  of  Wales. 
Respecting  the  portrait  of  Mary  and  her  son,  there 
has  been  much  discussion.  Its  genuineness  has 
been  doubted,  from  the  circumstance  of  James 
having  been  only  a  twelvemonth  old  when  this 
picture  is  thought  to  have  been  painted,  and  his 
being  here  represented  of  the  age  of  four  or  five ; 
but  the  anachronism  might  have  arisen  from  the 
whole  being  a  composition  of  the  artist,  executed, 
not  from  the  life,  but  from  other  authorities  fur- 
nished to  him."  It  was  cleaned  and  copied  by 
Spiridione  Roma,  for  Boydell's  print,  who  took 
off  a  mask  of  dirt  from  it,  and  is  certainly  a  very 
interesting  picture.  There  is  another  tradition  of 
this  picture :  •  that  Sir  Anthony  Babington,  confi- 
dential secretary  to  Queen  Mary,  had  her  portrait, 
which  he  deposited,  for  safety,  either  at  Merchant 
Taylors'  Hall  or  Drapers'  Hall,  and  that  it  had 
never  come  back  to  Sir  Anthony  or  his  family.  It 
has  been  insinuated  that  Sir  William  Boreman, 
clerk  to  the  Board  of  Green  Cloth  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  II.,  purloined  this  picture  from  one  of  the 
royal  palaces.  Some  absurdly  suggest  that  it  is  the 
portrait  of  Lady  Dulcibella  Boreman,  the  wife  of 
Sir  William.  There  is  a  tradition  that  this  valuable 
picture  was  thrown  over  the  wall  into  Drapers' 
Garden  during  the  Great  Fire,  and  never  reclaimed. 

The  old  court-room  adjoined  the  hall,  and  formed 
the  north  side  of  the  quadrangle.  It  was  wains- 
coted, and  elegantly  fitted  up,  like  the  last.  The 
fire-place  was  very  handsome,  and  had  over  the 
centre  a  small  oblong  compartment  in  white  marble, 
with  a  representation  of  the  Company  receiving 
their  charter.  The  ceiling  was  stuccoed,  somewhat 
similarly  to  the  hall,  with  various  subjects  allusive 
to  the  Drapers'  trade  and  to  the  heraldic  bearings 
of  the  Company.  Both  the  (dining)  hall  and  this 
apartment  were  rebuilt  after  the  fire  in  1774. 

The  old  gallery  led  to  the  ladies'  chamber  and 
livery-room.  In  the  former,  balls,  &c.,  were  occa- 
sionally held.    This  was  also  a  very  elegant  room. 


522 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


t  Bartholomew  Lane. 


The  livery -room  was  a  fine  lofty  apartment,  and  next 
in  size  to  the  hall.  Here  were  portraits  of  Sir  Joseph 
Sheldon,  Lord  Mayor,  1677,  by  Gerard  Soest,  and 
a  three-quarter  length  of  Sir  Robert  Clayton,  by 
Kneller,  1680,  seated  in  a  chair — a  great  benefactor 
to  Christ's  Hospital,  and  to  that  of  St.  Thomas,  in 
Southwark ;  and  two  benefactors — Sir  William  Bore- 
man,  an  officer  of  the  Board  of  Green  Cloth  in  the 
reigns  of  Charles  I.  and  Charles  II.,  who  endowed 
a  free  school  at  Greenwich  ;  and  Henry  Dixon,  of 
Enfield,  who  left  land  in  that  parish  for  apprenticing 
boys  of  the  same  parish,  and  giving  a  sum  to  such 
as  were  bound  to  freemen  of  London  at  the  end  of 
their  apprenticeship.  Here  was  also  a  fine  portrait 
of  Mr.  Smith,  late  clerk  of  the  Company  (three- 
quarters)  ;  a  smaller  portrait  of  Thomas  Bagshaw, 
who  died  in  1794,  having  been  beadle  to  the  Com- 
pany forty  years,  and  who  for  his  long  and  faithful 
services  has  been  thus  honoured.  The  windows 
of  the  livery-room  overlook  the  private  garden, 
in  the  midst  of  which  is  a  small  basin  of  water, 
with  a  fountain  and  statue.  The  large  garden, 
which  adjoins  this,  is  constantly  open  to  the 
public,  from  morning  till  night,  excepting  Saturdays, 
Sundays,  and  the  Company's  festival  days.  This 
is  a  pleasant  and  extensive  plot  of  ground,  neatly 
laid  out  with  gravelled  walks,  a  grass-plot,  flowering 
shrubs,  lime-trees,  pavilions,  &c.  Beneath  what 
was  formerly  the  ladies'  chamber  is  the  record-room, 


which  is  constructed  of  stone  and  iron,  and  made 
fire-proof,  for  the  more  effectually  securing  of  the 
Company's  archives,  books,  plate,  and  other  valuable 
and  important  documents. 

Howell,  in  his  "  Letters,"  has  the  following 
anecdote  about  Drapers'  Hall.  "  When  I  went," 
he  says,  "  to  bind  my  brother  Ned  apprentice,  in 
Drapers'  Hall,  casting  my  eyes  upon  the  chimney- 
piece  of  the  great  room,  I  spyed  a  picture  of 
an  ancient  gentleman,  and  underneath,  '  Thomas 
Howell;'  I  asked  the  clerk  about  him,  and  he 
told  me  that  he  had  been  a  Spanish  merchant  in 
Henry  VIII. 's  time,  and  coming  home  rich,  and 
dying  a  bachelor,  he  gave  that  hall  to  the  Company 
of  Drapers,  with  other  things,  so  that  he  is  ac- 
counted one  of  the  chiefest  benefactors.  I  told 
the  clerk  that  one  of  the  sons  of  Thomas  Howell 
came  now  thither  to  be  bound  ;  he  answered  that, 
if  he  be  a  right  Howell,  he  may  have,  when  he  is 
free,  three  hundred  pounds  to  help  to  set  him  up, 
and  pay  no  interest  for  five  years.  It  may  be, 
hereafter,  we  will  make  use  of  this." 

The  Drapers'  list  of  livery  states  their  modern 
arms  to  be  thus  emblazoned,  viz. — ^^Azure,  three 
clouds  radiated /r^/^r,  each  adorned  with  a  triple 
crown  or.  Supporters — two  lions  or,  pelletted. 
Crest — on  a  wreath,  a  ram  couchant  or,  armed 
sables,  on  a  mount  vert.  Motto — "  Unto  God  only 
be  honour  and  glory." 


CHAPTER  XLV. 
BARTHOLOMEW    LANE    AND    LOMBARD    STREET. 

George  Robins— His  Sale  of  the  Lease  of  the  Olympic— St.  Bartholomew's  Church— The  Lombards  and  Lombard  Street— William  de  la  Pole- 
Gre^ham— The  Post  Office,  Lombard  Street— Alexander  Pope's  Father  in  Plough  Court— Lombard  Street  Tributaries— St.  Mary  WoolnoiU 
—St.  Clement's— Dr.  Benjamin  Stone— Discovery  of  Roman  Remains— St.  Mary  Abchurch. 


Bartholomew  Lane  is  associated  with  the  memory 
of  Mr.  George  Robins,  one  of  the  most  eloquent 
auctioneers  who  ever  wielded  an  ivory  hammer. 
The  Auction  Mart  stood  opposite  the  Rotunda  of 
the  Bank.  It  is  said  that  Robins  was  once  offered 
;,r2,ooo  and  all  his  expenses  to  go  and  dispose 
of  a  valuable  property  in  New  York.  His  annual 
income  was  guessed  at  ;^i  2,000.  It  is  said  that 
half  the  landed  property  in  England  had  passed 
under  his  hammer.  Robins,  with  incomparable 
powers  of  blarney  and  soft  sawder,  wrote  poetical 
and  alluring  advertisements  (attributed  by  some 
to  eminent  literary  men),  which  were  irresistibly 
attractive.  His  notice  of  the  sale  of  the  twenty- 
seven  years'  lease  of  the  Olympic,  at  the  death  of 
Mr.  Scott,  in  1840,  was  a  marvel  of  adroitness  : — 


"  Mr.  Georp;e  Robins  is  desired  to  announce 
To  the  Public,  and  more  especially  to  the 
Theatrical  World,  that  he  is  authorised  to  sell 
By  Public  Auction,  at  the  Mart, 
On  Thursday  next,  the  twentieth  of  June,  at  twelve, 
The  Olympic  Theatre,  which  for  so  many  years 
Possessed  a  kindly  feeling  with  the  Public, 
And  has,  for  many  seasons  past,  assumed 
An  unparalleled  altitude  in  theatricals,  since 
It  was  fortunately  demised  to  Madame  Vestris  ; 
Who,  albeit,  not  content  to  move  at  the  slow  rate 
Of  bygone  time,  gave  to  it  a  spirit  and  a 
Consequence,  that  the  march  of  improvement 
And  her  own  consummate  taste  and  judgment 
Had  conceived.     To  crown  her  laudable  efforts         ^- 
With  unquestionable  success,  she  has  caused 
To  be  completed  (with  the  exception  of  St.  James's) 
The  most  splendid  little  Theatre  in  Europe  ; 
Has  given  to  the  entertainments  a  new  life  j 


Bartliolomew  Lane] 


SALE  OF  THE  LEASE  OF  THE  OLYMPIC. 


52^ 


Has  infused  so  much  of  her  own  special  tact, 

That  it  now  claims  to  be  one  of  the  most 

Famed  of  the  Metropolitan  Theatres.     Indeed, 

It  is  a  fact  that  will  always  remain  on  record, 

That  amid  the  vicissitudes  of  all  other  theatrical 

Establishments,  with  Madame  at  its  head,  success  has 

Never  been  equivocal  for  a  moment,  and  the 


made  it  as  clear  as  any  proposition  in  Euclid  that 
Madame  Vestris  could  not  possibly  succeed  in 
Covent  Garden  ;  that,  in  fact,  she  could  succeed 
in  no  other  house  than  the  Olympic ;  and  that  con- 
sequently the  purchaser  was  quite  sure  of  her  as  a 
tenant  as  long  as  he  chose  to  let  the  theatre  to  her. 


pope's  house,    plough   court,   LOMBARD  STREET. 


Receipts  have  for  years  past  averaged  nearly 
As  much  as  the  patent  theatres.     The  boxes  are 
In  such  high  repute,  that  double  the  present  low 
Rental  is  available  by  this  means  alone.     Madame 
Vestris  has  a  lease  for  three  more  seasons  at  only  one 
Thousand  pounds  a  year,"  &c. 
The  sale  itself  is  thus  described  by  Mr.  Grant, 
who  writes   as  if  he   had   been    present: — "Mr. 
Robins,"  says  Grant,  "  had  exhausted  the  English 
language  in  commendation   of  that   theatre;   he 


He  proved  to  demonstration  that  the  theatre  would 
always  fill,  no  matter  who  should  be  the  lessee ; 
and  that  consequently  it  would  prove  a  perfect 
mine  of  wealth  to  the  lucky  gentleman  who  was 
sufficiently  alive  to  his  own  interests  to  become 
the  purchaser.  By  means  of  such  representations, 
made  in  a  way  and  with  an  ingenuity  peculiar  to 
himself,  Mr.  Robins  had  got  the  biddings  up  from 
the  starting  sum,  which  was  ;2£'3,ooo,  to  ^3,400. 


524 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDOI^. 


tLombard  Street 


There,  however,  the  aspirants  to  the  property  came 
to  what  Mr.  Robins  called  a  dead  stop.  For  at 
least  three  or  four  minutes  he  put  his  ingenuity  to 
the  rack  in  lavishing  encomiums  on  the  property, 
without  his  zeal  and  eloquence  being  rewarded  by 
a  single  new  bidding.  It  was  at  this  extremity — 
and  he  never  resorts  to  the  expedient  until  the 
bidders  have  reached  what  they  themselves  at  the 
time  conceive  to  be  the  highest  point — it  was  at 
this  crisis  of  the  Olympic,  Mr.  Robins,  causing  the 
hammer  to  descend  in  the  planner  I  have  de- 
scribed, and  accompanying  the  slow  and  solemn 

movement  mth  a '  Going — going — go ,'  that  the 

then  highest  bidder  exclaimed,  'The  theatre  is 
mine  1'  and  at  which  Mr.  Robins,  apostrophising 
him  in  his  own  bland  and  fascinating  manner,  re- 
marked, *I  don't  wonder,  my  friend,  that  your 
anxiety  to  possess  the  property  at  such  a  price 
should  anticipate  my  decision ;  but,'  looking  round 
the  audience  and  smiling,  as  if  he  congratulated 
them  on  the  circumstance,  *  it  is  still  in  the  market, 
gentlemen  :  you  have  still  an  opportunity  of  making 
your  fortunes  without  risk  or  trouble.'  The  bidding 
that  instant  recommenced,  and  proceeded  more 
briskly  than  ever.  It  eventually  reached  ;^5,85o, 
at  which  sum  the  theatre  was  '  knocked  down.' " 

St  Bartholomew's  behind  the  Exchange  was 
built  in  1438.  Stow  gives  the  following  strange 
epitaph,  date  1615  : — 

Here  lyes  a  Margarite  that  most  excell'd 
(Her  father  Wyts,  her  mother  Lichterveld, 
Rematcht  with  Metkerke)  of  remarke  for  birth, 
But  much  more  gentle  for  her  genuine  worth  ; 
Wyts  (rarest)  Jewell  (so  her  name  bespeakes) 
In  pious,  prudent,  peaceful,  praise-full  life. 
Fitting  a  Sara  and  a  Sacred's  wife, 
Such  as  Saravia  and  (her  second)  Hill, 
'  Whose  joy  of  life,  Death  in  her  death  did  kilL 

Quam  pie  obiit,  Puerpera,  Die  29,  Junii, 
Anno  Salutis  1615.  ^tatis  39. 

From  my  sad  cradle  to  my  sable  chest, 
JPoore  Pilgrim,  I  did  find  few  months  of  rest. 
In  Flanders,  Holland,  Zeland,  England,  all. 
To  Parents,  troubles,  and  to  me  did  fall. 
These  made  me  pious,  patient,  modest,  wise  ; 
And,  though  well  borne,  to  shun  the  gallants'  guise  ; 
But  now  I  rest  my  soule,  where  rest  is  found, 
My  body  here,  in  a  small  piece  of  ground. 
And  from  my  Hill,  that  hill  I  have  ascended, 
From  whence  (for  me)  my  Saviour  once  descended. 

Margarita,  a  Jewell. 
I,  like  a  Jewell,  tost  by  sea  to  land, 
Am  bought  by  him,  who  weares  me  on  his  hand. 

Margarita,  Margareta. 
One  night,  two  dreames 

Made  two  propheticals. 
Thine  of  thy  coffin, 

Mine  of  thy  funerals. 


If  women  all  were  like  to  thee, 

We  men  for  wives  should  happy  be. 

The  first  stone  of  the  Gresham  Club  House, 
No.  I,  King  William  Street,  corner  of  St.  Swithin's 
Lane,  was  laid  in  1844,  the  event  being  celebrated 
by  a  dinner  at  the  Albion  Tavern,  Aldersgate 
Street,  the  Lord  Mayor,  Sir  William  Magnay,  in 
the  chair.  The  club  was  at  first  under  the  presi- 
dency of  John  Abel  Smith,  Esq.,  M.P.  The 
building  was  erected  from  the  design  of  Mr. 
Henry  Flower,  architect. 

After  the  expulsion  of  the  Jews,  the  Lombards 
(or  merchants  of  Genoa,  Lucca,  Florence,  and 
Venice)  succeeded  them  as  the  money-lenders  and 
bankers  of  England.  About  the  middle  of  the 
thirteenth  century  these  Italians  established  them- 
selves in  Lombard  Street,  remitting  money  to  Italy 
by  bills  of  exchange,  and  transmitting  to  the  Pope 
and  Italian  prelates  their  fees,  and  the  incomes  of 
their  English  benefices.  Mr.  Burgon  has  shown 
that  to  these  industrious  strangers  we  owe  many 
of  our  commercial  terms,  such,  for  instance,  as 
debtor,  creditor,  cash,  usance,  hank,  bankrupt, 
journal,  diary,  ditto,  and  even  our  £,  s.  d.,  which 
originally  stood  for  libri,  soldi,  and  denari.  In  the 
early  part  of  the  fifteenth  century  we  find  these 
swarthy  merchants  advancing  loans  to  the  State, 
and  having  the  customs  mortgaged  to  them  by  way 
of  security.  Pardons  and  holy  wafers  were  also 
sold  in  this  street  before  the  Reformation. 

One  of  the  celebrated  dwellers  in  media3val 
Lombard  Street  was  William  de  la  Pole,  father  of 
Michael,  Earl  of  Suffolk.  He  was  king's  merchant 
or  factor  to  Edward  III.,  and  in  1338,  at  Antwerp, 
lent  that  warlike  and  extravagant  monarch  a  sum 
equivalent  to  ^,{^400, 000  of  our  current  money. 
He  received  several  munificent  grants  of  Crown 
land,  and  was  created  chief  baron  of  the  ex- 
chequer and  a  knight  banneret.  He  is  always 
styled  in  public  instruments  "  dilectus  mercator 
et  valectus  noster."  His  son  Michael,  who  died 
at  the  siege  of  Harfleur  in  1415,  succeeded  to  his 
father's  public  duties  and  his  house  in  Lombard 
Street,  near  Birchin  Lane.  Michael's  son  fell  at 
Agincourt.  The  last  De  la  Pole  was  beheaded 
during  the  wars  of  the  Roses. 

About  the  date  1559,  when  Gresham  was 
honoured  by  being  sent  as  English  ambassador 
to  the  court  of  the  Duchess  of  Parma,  he  resided 
in  Lombard  Street.  His  shop  (about  the  present 
No.  18)  was  distinguished  by  his  father's  crest 
— viz.,  a  grasshopper.  The  original  sign  was  seen 
by  Pennant ;  and  Mr.  Burgon  assures  us  that  it 
continued  in  existence  as  late  as  1795,  being  re- 
moved or  stolen  on  the  erection  of  the  present 


Lombard  Street.] 


GRESHAM  AND  THE   EXCHANGE. 


525 


building.  Gresham  was  not  only  a  mercer  and 
merchant  adventurer,  but  a  banker — a  term  which 
in  those  days  of  10  or  12  per  cent,  interest  meant 
also,  "a  usurer,  a  pawnbroker,  a  money  scrivener, 
a  goldsmith,  and  a  dealer  in  bullion"  (Burgon). 
After  his  knighthood,  Gresham  seems  to  have 
thought  it  undignified  to  reside  at  his  shop,  so  left 
it  to  his  apprentice,  and  removed  to  Bishopsgate, 
where  he  built  Gresham  House.  It  was  a  vulgar 
tradition  of  Elizabeth's  time,  according  to  Lodge, 
that  Gresham  was  a  foundling,  and  that  an  old 
woman  who  found  him  was  attracted  to  the  spot 
by  the  increased  chirping  of  the  grasshoppers. 
This  story  was  invented,  no  doubt,  to  account  for 
his  crest. 

During  the  first  two  years  of  Gresham's  acting 
as  the  king's  factor,  he  posted  from  Antwerp  no 
fewer  than  forty  times.  Between  the  ist  of  March, 
1552,  and  the  27th  of  July  his  payments  amounted 
to  ;^io6,30i  4s.  4d. ;  his  travelling  expenses  for 
riding  in  and  out  eight  times,  ^^102  los.,  including 
a  supper  and  a  banquet  to  the  Schetz  and  the 
Fuggers,  the  great  banks  with  whom  he  had  to 
transact  business,  ^26  being  equal,  Mr.  Burgon 
calculates,  to  ;;^25o  of  the  present  value  of  money. 
The  last-named  feast  must  have  been  one  of  great 
magnificence,  as  the  guests  appear  to  have  been 
not  more  than  twenty.  On  such  occasions  Gresham 
deemed  it  policy  to  "  make  as  good  chere  as  he 
could." 

He  was  living  in  Lombard  Street,  no  doubt,  at 
that  eventful  day  when,  being  at  the  house  of  Mr. 
John  Byvers,  alderman,  he  promised  that  "  within 
one'  month  after  the  founding  of  the  Burse  he 
would  make  over  the  whole  of  the  profits,  in  equal 
moities,  to  the  City  and  the  Mercers'  Company,  in 
case  he  should  die  childless  ;"  and  '*for  the  sewer 
performance  of  the  premysses,  the  said  Sir  Thomas, 
in  the  presens  of  the  persons  afore  named,  did  give 
his  house  to  Sir  William  Garrard,  and  drank  a 
carouse  to  Thomas  Rowe."  This  mirthful  affair 
was  considered  of  so  much  importance  as  to  be 
entered  on  the  books  of  the  Corporation,  solemnly 
commencing  with  the  words,  "  Be  it  remembered, 
that  the  ixth  day  of  February,  in  Anno  Domini 
1565,"  &c. 

Gresham's  wealth  was  made  chiefly  by  trade 
with  Antwerp.  "  The  exports  from  Antwerp,"  says 
Burgon,  "at  that  time  consisted  of  jewels  and 
precious  stones,  bullion,  quicksilver,  wrought  silks, 
cloth  of  gold  and  silver,  gold  and  silver  thread, 
camblets,  grograms,  spices,  drugs,  sugar,  cotton, 
cummin,  galls,  linen,  serges,  tapestry,  madder, 
hops  in  great  quantities,  glass,  salt-fish,  small  wares 
(or,  as  they  were  then  called,  merceries),  made  of 


metal  and  other  materials,  to  a  considerable 
amount ;  arms,  ammunition,  and  household  furni- 
ture. From  England  Antwerp  imported  immense 
quantities  of  fine  and  coarse  woollen  goods,  as. 
canvas,  frieze,  &c.,  the  finest  wool,  excellent  saffron 
in  small  quantities,  a  great  quantity  of  lead  and 
tin,  sheep  and  rabbit-skins,  together  with  other 
kinds  of  peltry  and  leather;  beer,  cheese,  and 
other  provisions  in  great  quantities,  also  Malmsey 
wines,  which  the  English  at  that  time  obtained  ! 
from  Candia.  Cloth  was,  however,  by  far  the  j 
most  important  article  of  traffic  between  the  two 
countries.  The  annual  importation  into  Antwerp 
about  the  year  1568,  including  every  description  of 
cloth,  was  estimated  at  more  than  200,000  pieces, 
amounting  in  value  to  upwards  of  4,000,000  escus; 
d'or,  or  about  ;^i, 200,000  sterhng." 
I  In  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  we  find  the  "  Grass- 
hopper" in  Lombard  Street  the  sign  of  another 
wealthy  goldsmith,  Sir  Charles  Duncombe,  the 
founder  of  the  Feversham  family,  and  the  pur- 
chaser of  Helmsley,  in  Yorkshire,  the  princely 
seat  of  George  ViUiers,  second  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham : 

"  Helmsley,  once  proud  Buckingham's  delight, 
Yields  to  a  scrivener  and  a  City  knight." 

Here  also  resided  Sir  Robert  Viner,  the  Lord 
Mayor  of  London  in  1675,  and  apparently  an 
especial  favourite  with  Charles  II. 

The  Post  Office,  Lombard  Street,  formerly  the 
General  Post  Office,  was  originally  built  by  "  the 
great  banquer,"  Sir  Robert  Viner,  on  the  site  of  a 
noted  tavern  destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire  of  1666, 
Here  Sir  Robert  kept  his  mayoralty  in  1675. 
Strype  describes  it  as  a  very  large  and  curious 
dwelling,  with  a  handsome  paved  court,  and 
behind  it  "  a  yard  for  stabling  and  coaches."  The 
St.  Martin's-le-Grand  General  Post  Office  was  not 
opened  till  1829. 

"I  have,"  says  "Aleph,"in  the  City  Press,  "a 
vivid  recollection  of  Lombard  Street  in  1805. 
More  than  half  a  century  has  rolled  away  since 
then,  yet  there,  sharply  and  clearly  defined,  before 
the  eye  of  memory,  stand  the  phantom  shadows  of 
the  past.  I  walked  through  the  street  a  few  weeks 
ago.  It  is  changed  in  many  particulars;  yet 
enough  remains  to  identify  it  with  the  tortuous, 
dark  vista  of  lofty  houses  which  I  remember  so 
well.  Then  there  were  no  pretentious,  stucco-faced 
banks  or  offices ;  the  whole  wall-surface  was  of 
smoke-blacked  brick ;  its  colour  seemed  to  imitate 
the  mud  in  the  road,  and  as  coach,  or  wagon,  or 
mail-cart  toiled  or  rattled  along,  the  basement 
storeys  were  bespattered  freely  from  the   gutters, 


526 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Lombard  Street. 


The  glories  of  gas  were  yet  to  be.      After  three 
o'clock  p.m.  miserable  oil  lamps  tried  to  enliven 
the     foggy   street    with   their    'ineffectual    light,' 
while  through  dingy,  greenish  squares  of  glass  you 
might  observe  tall  tallow  candles  dimly  disclosing 
the  mysteries  of  bank  or  counting-house.     Passen- 
gers needed  to  walk  with  extreme  caution  ;  if  you 
lingered  on  the  pavement,  woe  to  your  corns ;  if 
you  sought  to  cross  the  road,  you  had  to  beware  of 
the  flying  postmen  or  the  letter-bag  express.     As 
six  o'clock  drew  near,  every  court,  alley,  and  blind 
thoroughfare  in  the  neighbourhood  echoed  to  the 
incessant  din  of  letter-bells.      Men,  women,  and 
children  were  hurrying  to  the  chief  office,  while 
the  fiery-red  battalion  of  postmen,  as  they  neared 
the  same  point,  were  apparently  well  pleased   to 
balk  the  diligence  of  the  public,  anxious  to  spare 
their   coppers.      The    mother    post-office   for  the 
United  Kingdom  and  the  Colonies  was  then  in 
Lombard  Street,  and  folks  thought  it  was  a  model 
establishment.     Such  armies  of  clerks,  such  sacks 
of  letters,  and   countless   consignments   of  news- 
papers !      How  could  those  hard-worked  officials 
ever    get    through    their  work  ?     The   entrance, 
barring  paint  and  stucco,  remains  exactly  as  it  was 
fifty  years  ago.     What  crowds  used  to  besiege  it  ! 
What   a   strange  confusion   of  news-boys !      The 
struggling  public,  with  late  letters ;  the  bustling  red- 
coats, with  their  leather  bags,  a  scene  of  anxious 
life   and    interest    seldom   exceeded.      And   now 
the  letter-boxes  are  all   closed;    you  weary  your 
knuckles  in  vain  against  the  sliding  door  in  the 
wall.     No  response.     Every  hand  within  is  fully 
occupied  in  letter-sorting  for  the  mails  ;  they  must 
be  freighted  in  less  than  half  an  hour.     Yet,  on 
payment  of  a  shilling  for  each,  letters  were  received 
till  ten  minutes  to  eight,  and  not  unfrequently  a 
post-chaise,  with  the  horses  in  a  positive   lather, 
tore  into  the  street,  just  in  time  to  forward  some 
important  despatch.    Hark  !    The  horn  !  the  horn  ! 
The  mail-guards  are  the  soloists,  and  very  pleasant 
music  they  discourse ;  not  a  few  of  them  are  first- 
rate   performers.      A  long  train   of  gaily  got-up 
coaches,  remarkable  for  their  light  weight,  horsed 
by  splendid-looking  animals,  impatient  at  the  curb, 
and  eager  to  commence  their  journey  of  ten  miles 
(at  least)  an  hour;  stout  'gents,'  in  heavy  coats, 
buttoned  to  the  throat,  esconce  themselves  in  '  re- 
served seats.'      Commercial  men  contest  the  right 
of  a  seat  with  the  guard  or  coachman  ;  some  careful 
mother  helps  her  pale,  timid  daughter  .up  the  steps ; 
while  a  fat  old  lady  already  occupies  two-thirds  of 
the  seat — what  will  be  done  ?     Bags  of  epistles 
innumerable  stuff  the  boots ;  formidable  bales  of 
the  daily  journals  are  trampled  small  by  the  guard's 


heels.  The  clock  will  strike  in  less  than  five 
minutes  ;  the  clamour  deepens,  the  hubbub  seems 
increasing ;  but  ere  the  last  sixty  seconds  expire,  a 
sharp  winding  of  warning  bugles  begins.  Coachee 
flourishes  his  whip,  greys  and  chestnuts  prepare  for 
a  nm,  the  reins  move,  but  very  gently,  there  is  a 
parting  crack  from  the  whipcord,  and  the  brilliant 
cavalcade  is  gone — exeunt  oinncs  !  Lombard  Street 
is  a  different  place  now,  far  more  imposing,  though 
still  narrow  and  dark  ;  the  clean-swept  roadway  is 
paved  with  wood,  cabs  pass  noiselessly — a  capital 
thing,  only  take  care  you  are  not  run  over.  Most 
of  the  banks  and  assurance  offices  have  been  con- 
verted into  stone." 

In  Plough  Court  (No.  i),  Lombard  Street,  Pope's 
father  carried  on  the  business  of  a  linen  merchant. 
"  He  was  an  honest  merchant,  and  dealt  in 
Hollands  wholesale,"  as  his  widow  infonned  Mr. 
Spence.  His  son  claimed  for  him  the  honour 
of  being  sprung  from  gentle  blood.  When  that 
gallant  baron.  Lord  Hervey,  vice-chamberlain  in 
the  court  of  George  H.,  and  his  ally,  Lady  Mary 
Wortley  Montague,  disgraced  themselves  by  in- 
diting the  verses  containing  this  couplet — 

"  Whilst  none  thy  crabbed  numbers  can  endure, 
Hard  as  thy  heart,  and  as  thy  birth  obscure  ;" 

Pope  indignantly  repelled  the  accusation  as  to  his 
descent. 

"I  am  sorry  (he  said)  to  be  obliged  to  such 
a  presumption  as  to  name  my  family  in  the  same 
leaf  with  your  lordship's  ;  but  my  father  had  the 
honour  in  one  instance  to  resemble  you,  for  he 
was  a  younger  brother.  He  did  not  indeed  think 
it  a  happiness  to  bury  his  elder  brother,  though 
he  had  one,  who  wanted  some  of  those  good 
qualities  which  yours  possessed.  How  sincerely 
glad  should  I  be  to  pay  to  that  young  nobleman's 
memory  the  debt  I  owed  to  his  friendship,  whose 
early  death  deprived  your  family  of  as  much  wit 
and  honour  as  he  left  behind  him  in  any  branch 
of  it.  But  as  to  my  father,  I  could  assure  you, 
my  lord,  that  he  was  no  mechanic  (neither  a  hatter, 
nor,  which  might  please  your  lordship  yet  better, 
a  cobbler),  but,  in  truth,  of  a  very  tolerable  family, 
and  my  mother  of  an  ancient  one,  as  well  born  and 
educated  as  that  lady  whom  your  lordship  made 
use  of  to  educate  your  own  children,  whose  merit, 
beauty,  and  vivacity  (if  transmitted  to  your  pos- 
terity) will  be  a  better  present  than  even  the  noble 
blood  they  derive  from  you.  A  mother,  on  whom 
I  was  never  obliged  so  far  to  reflect  as  to  say,  she 
spoiled  me  ;  and  a  father,  who  never  found  himself 
obliged  to  say  of  me,  that  he  disapproved  my 
conduct.     In  a  word,  my  lord,  I  think  it  enough, 


Lombard  Street.] 


ST.  MARY  WOOLNOTH, 


527 


that  my  parents,  such  as  they  were,  never  cost  me 
a  blush ;  and  that  their  son,  such  as  he  is,  never 
cost  them  a  tear." 

The  house  of  Pope's  father  was  afterwards 
occupied  by  the  well-known  chemists,  Allen,  Han- 
bury,  and  Barry,  a  descendant  of  which  firm  still 
occupies  it.  Mr.  William  Allen  was  the  son  of 
a  Quaker  silk  manufacturer  in  Spitalfields.  He 
became  chemical  lecturer  at  Guy's  Hospital,  and  an 
eminent  experimentalist — discovering,  among  other 
things,  the  proportion  of  carbon  in  carbonic  acid, 
and  proving  that  the  diamond  was  pure  carbon. 
He  was  mainly  instrumental  in  founding  the  Phar- 
maceutical Society,  and  distinguished  himself  by 
his  zeal  against  slavery,  and  his  interest  in  all 
benevolent  objects.  He  died  in  1843,  at  Lind- 
field,  in  Sussex,  where  he  had  founded  agricultural 
schools  of  a  thoroughly  practical  kind. 

The  church  of  St.  Edmund  King  and  Martyr 
(and  St.  Nicholas  Aeons),  on  the  north  side  of 
Lombard  Street,  stands  on  the  site  of  the  old 
Cirass  Market.  The  only  remarkable  monument  is 
that  of  Dr.  Jeremiah  Mills,  who  died  in  1784,  and 
had  been  President  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries 
many  years.  The  local  authorities  have,  with  great 
good  sense,  written  the  duplex  name  of  this  church 
in  clear  letters  over  the  chief  entrance. 

The  date  of  the  first  building  of  St.  Mary  Wool- 
noth  of  the  Nativity,  in  Lombard  Street,  seems  to 
be  very  doubtful ;  nor  does  Stow  help  us  to  the 
origin  of  the  name.  By  some  antiquaries  it  has 
been  suggested  that  the  church  was  so  called  from 
being  beneath  or  nigh  to  the  wool  staple.  Mr. 
Gwilt  suggests  that  it  may  have  been  called 
"  Wool-nough,"  in  order  to  distinguish  it  from  the 
other  church  of  St.  Mary,  where  the  wool-beam 
actually  stood. 

The  first  rector  mentioned  by  Newcourt  was 
Johnde  Norton,  presented  previous  to  1368.  Sir 
Martin  Bowes  had  the  presentation  of  this  church 
given  him  by  Henry  V.,  it  having  anciently  be- 
longed to  the  convent  of  St.  Helen's,  Bishopsgate. 
From  the  Bowes's  the  presentation  passed  to  the 
Goldsmiths'  Company.  Sir  Martin  Bowes  was 
buried  here,  and  so  were  many  of  the  Houblons, 
a  great  mercantile  family,  on  one  of  whom  Pepys 
wrote  an  epitaph.  Munday  particularly  mentions 
that  the  wills  of  several  benefactors  of  St.  Mary's 
were  carefully  preserved  and  exhibited  in  the 
church.  Strype  also  mentions  a  monument  to 
Sir  William  Phipps,  that  lucky  speculator  who,  in 
1687,  extracted  ^^300,000  from  the  wreck  of  a 
Spanish  plate-vessel  off  the  Bahama  bank.  Simon 
Eyre,  the  old  founder  of  Leadenhall  Market,  was 
buried  in  this  church  in  1549. 


Sir  Hugh  Brice,  goldsmith  and  mayor,  governor 
of  the  Mint  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VII.,  built  or 
rebuilt  part  6f  the  church,  and  raised  a  steeple. 
The  church  was  almost  totally  destroyed  in  the 
Great  Fire,  and  repaired  by  Wren.  Sir  Robert 
Viner,  the  famous  goldsmith,  contributed  largely 
towards  the  rebuilding,  "a  memorial  whereof,"  says 
Strype,  "are  the  vines  that  adorn  and  spread  about 
that  part  of  the  church  that  fronts  his  house  and 
the  street;  insomuch,  that  the  church  was  used 
to  be  called  Sir  Robert  Viner's  church."  Wren's 
repairs  having  proved  ineffectual,  the  church  was 
rebuilt  in  1727.  The  workmen,  twenty  feet  under 
the  ruins  of  the  steeple,  discovered  bones,  -tusks, 
Roman  coins,  and  a  vast  number  of  broken  Roman 
pottery.  It  is  generally  thought  by  antiquaries  that 
a  temple  dedicated  to  Concord  once  stood  here. 
Hawksmoor,  the  architect  of  St.  Mary  Woolnoth, 
was  born  the  year  of  the  Great  Fire,  and  died 
in  1736.  He  acted  as  Wren's  deputy  during  the 
erection  of  the  Hospitals  at  Chelsea  and  Green- 
wich, and  also  in  the  building  of  most  of  the 
City  churches.  The  principal  works  of  his  own 
design  are  Christ  Church,  Spitalfields,  St.  Anne's, 
Limehouse,  and  St.  George's,  Bloomsbury.  Mr. 
J.  Godwin,  an  excellent  authority,  calls  St.  Mary 
Woolnoth  "  one  of  the  most  striking  and  original, 
although  not  the  most  beautiful,  churches  in  the 
metropolis." 

On  the  north  side  of  the  communion-table  is 
a  plain  tablet  in  memory  of  that  excellent  man, 
the  Rev.  John  Newton,  who  was  curate  of  Olney, 
Bucks,  for  sixteen  years,  and  rector  of  the  united 
parishes  of  St.  Mary  Woolnoth  and  St.  Mary  Wool- 
church  twenty-eight  years.  He  died  on  the  21st 
of  December,  1807,  aged  eighty-two  years,  and  was 
buried  in  a  vault  in  this  church. 

On  the  stone  is  the  following  inscription,  full 
of  Christian  humility : — 

"John  Newton,  clerk,  once  an  infidel  and  libertine,  a 
servant  of  slaves  in  Africa,  was,  by  the  rich  mercy  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  preserved,  restored,  par- 
doned, and  appointed  to  preach  the  faith  he  had  long 
laboured  to  destroy. " 

Newton's  father  was  master  of  a  merchant-ship, 
and  Newton's  youth  was  spent  in  prosecuting  the 
African  slave-trade,  a  career  of  which  he  afterwards 
bitterly  repented.  He  is  best  known  as  the  writer 
(in  conjunction  with  the  poet  Cowper)  of  the 
"  Olney  Hymns." 

The  exterior  of  this  church  is  praised  by  com- 
petent authorities  for  its  boldness  and  originality, 
though  some  critic  says  that  the  details  are  pon- 
derous enough  for  a  fortress  or  a  prison.  The 
elongated  tower,  from  the   arrangement    of  the 


528 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Lombard  Street. 


small  chimney-like  turrets  at  the  top,  has  the  ap- 
pearance of  being  two  towers  united.  Dallaway 
calls  it  an  imitation  of  St.  Sulpice,  at  Paris;  but 
unfortunately  Servandoni  built  St.  Sulpice  some 
time  after  St.  Mary  Woolnoth  was  completed.    Mr. 


The  parish  seem  to  have  been  pleased  with  Wren's 
exertions  in  rebuilding,  for  in  their  register  books 
for  1685  there  is  the  following  item: — "  To  one- 
third  of  a  hogshead  of  wine,  given  to  Sir  Chris- 
topher Wren,  ;£^  2s." 


ST.  MARY  WOOLNOTH. 


Godwin  seems  to  think  Hawksmoor  followed  Van- 
brugh's  manner  in  the  heaviness  of  his  design. 

St.  Clement's  Church,  Clement's  Lane,  Lombard 
Street,  sometimes  called  St.  Clement's,  Eastcheap, 
is  noted  by  Newcourt  as  existing  as  early  as  1309. 
The  rectory  belonged  to  Westminster  Abbey,  but 
was  given  by  Queen  Mary  to  the  Bishop  of  London 
and  his  successors  for  ever.  After  the  Great  Fire, 
when  the  church  was  destroyed,  the  parish  of  St. 
Martin  Orgar  was  united  to  that  of  St.  Clement's, 


One  of  the  rectors  of  St.  Clement's,  Dr.  Ben- 
jamin Stone,  who  had  been  presented  to  the  living 
by  Bishop  Juxon,  being  deemed  too  Popish  by 
Cromwell,  was  imprisoned  for  some  time  at  Crosby 
Hall.  From  thence  he  was  sent  to  Plymouth, 
where,  after  paying  a  fine  of  ^60,  he  obtained  his 
liberty.  On  the  restoration  of  Charles  II.,  Stone 
recovered  his  benefice,  but  died  five  years  after. 
In  this  church  Bishop  Pearson,  then  rector,  de- 
livered his  celebrated  sermons  on  the  Creed,  which 


Lombard  Street.] 


THE  REMAINS  OF  A  ROMAN  ROAD. 


529 


he  afterwards  turned  into  his  excellent  Exposition, 
a  text-book  of  English  divinity,  which  he  dedicated 
"to  the  right  worshipful  and  well-beloved,  the 
parishioners  of  St.  Clement's,  Eastcheap." 

The  interior  is  a  parallelogram,  with  the  addition 
of  a  south  aisle,  introduced  in  order  to  disguise  the 


erected  at  the  cost  of  the  parishioners,  commemo- 
rative of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Green,  curate  twenty- 
seven  years,  who  died  in  1734;  the  Rev.  John 
Farrer,  rector  (1820);  and  the  Rev.  W.  Valentine 
Ireson,  who  was  lecturer  of  the  united  parishes 
thirty  years,  and  died  in  1822. 


INTERIOR  OF   MERCHANT  TAYLORS'   HALL, 


intrusion  of  the  tower,  which  stands  at  the  south- 
west angle  of  the  building.  The  ceiUng  is  divided 
into  panels,  the  centre  one  being  a  large  oval  band 
of  fruit  and  flowers. 

The  pulpit  and  desk,  as  well  as  the  large 
sounding-board  above  them,  are  very  elaborately 
carved  ;  and  a  marble  font  standing  in  the  south 
aisle  has  an  oak  cover  of  curious  design.  Among 
many  mural  tablets  are  three  which  have  been 
46 


In  digging  a  new  sewer  in  Lombard  Street  a 
few  years  ago  (says  Pennant,  writing  in  1790), 
the  remains  of  a  Roman  road  were  discovered, 
with  numbers  of  coins,  and  several  antique  curio- 
sities, some  of  great  elegance.  The  beds  through 
which  the  workmen  sunk  were  four.  The  first  con- 
sisted of  factitious  earth,  about  thirteen  feet  six 
inches  thick,  all  accumulated  since  the  desertion  of 
the  ancient  street;  the  second  of  brick,  two  feet 


530 


OLD   AND   NEW   LONDON. 


[Lombard  Street. 


thick,  the  ruins  of  the  buildings  ;  the  third  of  ashes, 
only  three  inches  ;  the  fourth  of  Roman  pavement, 
both  common  and  tessellated,  over  which  the  coins 
and  other  antiquities  were  discovered.  Beneath 
that  was  the  original  soil.  The  predominant 
articles  were  earthenware,  and  several  were  orna- 
mented in  the  most  elegant  manner.  A  vase  of 
red  earth  had  on  its  surface  a  representation  of  a 
fight  of  men,  some  on  horseback,  others  on  foot ; 
or  perhaps  a  show  of  gladiators,  as  they  all  fought 
in  pairs,  and  many  of  them  naked.  The  combatants 
were  armed  with  falchions  and  small  round  shields, 
in  the  manner  of  the  Thracians,  the  most  esteemed 
of  the  gladiators.  Some  had  spears,  and  others  a 
kind  of  mace.  A  beautiful  running  foliage  encom- 
passed the  bottom  of  this  vessel.  On  the  fragment 
of  another  were  several  figures.  Among  them 
appears  Pan  with  his  pedum,  or  crook ;  and  near 
to  him  one  of  the  lascivi  Satyri,  both  in  beautiful 
skipping  attitudes.  On  the  same  piece  are  two 
tripods ;  round  each  is  a  serpent  regularly  twisted, 
and  bringing  its  head  over  a  bowl  which  fills  the 
top.  These  seem  (by  the  serpent)  to  have  been 
dedicated  to  Apollo,  who,  as  well  as  his  son  .^scu- 
lapius,  presided  over  medicine.  On  the  top  of  one 
of  the  tripods  stands  a  man  in  full  armour.  Might 
not  this  vessel  have  been  votive,  made  by  order  of 
a  soldier  restored  to  health  by  favour  of  the  god, 
and  to  his  active  powers  and  enjoyment  of  rural, 
pleasures,  typified  under  the  form  of  Pan  and  his 
nimble  attendants  ?  A  plant  extends  along  part 
of  another  compartment,  possibly  allusive  to  their 
medical  virtues  ;  and,  to  show  that  Bacchus  was 
not  forgotten,  beneath  lies  a  thyrsus  with  a  double 
head. 

On  another  bowl  was  a  free  pattern  of  foliage. 
On  others,  or  fragments,  were  objects  of  the  chase, 
such  as  hares,  part  of  a  deer,  and  a  boar,  \vith 
human  figures,  dogs,  and  horses ;  all  these  pieces 
prettily  ornamented.  There  were,  besides,  some 
beads,  made  of  earthenware,  of  the  same  form  as 
those  called  the  ovum  anguinum,  and,  by  the  Welsh, 
glain  naidr ;  and  numbers  of  coins  in  gold,  silver, 
and  brass,  of  Claudius,  Nero,  Galba,  and  other 
emperors  down  to  Constantine. 

St.  Mary  Abchurch  was  destroyed  by  the  Great 
Fire,  and  rebuilt  by  Wren  in  1686.  Maitland 
says,  "  And  as  to  this  additional  appellation  of  Ab, 
or  Up-church,  I  am  at  as  great  a  loss  in  respect  to 
its  meaning,  as  I  am  to  the  time  when  the  church 
was  at  first  founded;  but,  as  it  appears  to  have 
anciently  stood  on  an  eminence,  probably  that 
epithet  was  conferred  upon  it  in  regard  to  the 
church  of  St.  Lawrence  Pulteney,  situate  below." 

Stow  gives  one  record  of  St.  Mary  Abchurch, 


which  we  feel  a  pleasure  in  chronicling: — "This 
dame  Helen  Branch,  buried  here,  widow  of  Sir 
John  Branch,  Knt.,  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  an. 
1580,  gave  £,^0  to  be  lent  to  young  men  of  the 
Company  of  Drapers,  from  four  years  to  four  years, 
for  ever,  ;£^o.  Which  lady  gave  also  to  poor 
maids'  marriages,  ;^io.  To  the  poor  of  Abchurch, 
;^io.  To  the  poor  prisoners  in  and  about  Lon- 
don, ;!^20.  Besides,  for  twenty-six  gowns  to  poor 
men  and  women,  ^26.  And  many  other  worthy 
legacies  to  the  Universities." 

The  pulpit  and  sounding-board  are  of  oak,  and 
the  font  has  a  cover  of  the  same  material,  presenting 
carved  figures  of  the  four  Evangelists  within  niches. 
On  the  south  side  of  the  church  is  an  elaborate 
monument  of  marble,  part  of  which  is  gilt,  con- 
sisting of  twisted  columns  supporting  a  circular 
pediment,  drapery,  cherubim,  &c.,  to  Mr.  Edward 
Sherwood,  who  died  January  5th,  1690;  and  near 
it  is  a  second,  in  memory  of  Sir  Patience  Ward, 
Knt,  Alderman,  and  Lord  Mayor  of  London  in 
1681.  He  died  on  the  loth  of  July,  1696.  The 
east  end  of  the  church  is  in  Abchurch  Lane,  and 
the  south  side  faces  an  open  paved  space,  divided 
from  the  lane  by  posts.  This  was  formerly  en- 
closed as  a  burial-ground,  but  was  thrown  open 
for  the  convenience  of  the  neighbourhood. 

The  present  church  was  completed  from  the 
designs  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren  in  1686.  In  the 
interior  it  is  nearly  square,  being  about  sixty-five 
feet  long,  and  sixty  feet  wide.  The  walls  are  plain, 
having  windows  in  the  south  side  and  at  the  east 
end  to  light  the  church.  The  area  of  the  church  is 
covered  by  a  large  and  handsome  cupola,  supported 
on  a  modillion  cornice,  and  adorned  with  paintings 
which  were  executed  by  Sir  James  Thornhill ;  and 
in  the  lower  part  of  this  also  are  introduced  other 
lights.  "The  altar-piece,"  says  Mr.  G.  Godwin, 
"presents  four  Corinthian  columns,  with  entabla- 
ture and  pediment,  grained  to  imitate  oak,  and  has 
a  carved  figure  of  a  pelican  over  the  centre  com- 
partment. It  is  further  adorned  by  a  number  of 
carved  festoons  of  fruit  and  flowers,  which  are  so 
exquisitely  executed,  that  if  they  were  a  hundred 
miles  distant,  we  will  venture  to  say  they  would 
have  many  admiring  visitants  from  London.  These 
carvings,  by  Grinling  Gibbons,  were  originally 
painted  after  nature  by  Sir  James.  They  were 
afterwards  covered  with  white  paint,  and  at  this 
time  they  are,  in  common  with  the  rest  of  the 
screen,  of  the  colour  of  oak.  Fortunately,  however, 
these  proceedings,  which  must  have  tended  to  fill 
up  the  more  delicately  carved  parts,  and  to  destroy 
the  original  sharpness  of  the  lines,  have  not  xiiatc 
rially  injured  their  general  effect." 


Threadneedle  Street.] 


THE  MERCHANT  TAYLORS'  COMPANY. 


531 


CHATTER   XLVI. 
THREADNEEDLE  STREET. 

The  Centre  of  Roman  London— St.  Benet  Fink— The  Monks  of  St.  Anthony— The  Merahant  Taylors— Stow,  Antiquary  and  Tailor— A  Mag- 
nificent Roll — The  Good  Deeds  of  the  Merchant  Taylors— The  Old  and  the  Modern  Merchant  Taylors'  Hall — "  Concordia  parva;  res 
crescunt" — Henry  VII.  enrolled  as  a  Member  of  the  Taylors'  Company — A  Cavalcade  of  Archers — The  Hall  of  Commerce  in  Threadneedle 
Street— A  Painful  Reminiscence — The  Baltic  Coffee-house— St.  Anthony's  School — The  North  and  South  American  Coffee-house — The  South 
Sea  House— History  of  the  South  Sea  Bubble—Bubble  Companies  of  the  Period- Singular  Infatuation  of  the  Public — Bursting  of  the 
Bubble— Parliamentary  Inquiry  into  the  Company's  Affairs— Punishment  of  the  Chief  Delinquents — Restoration  of  Public  Credit— The 
Poets  during  the  Excitement — Charles  Lamb's  Reverie. 


In  Threadneedle  Street  we  stand  in  the  centre  of 
Roman  London.  In  1805  a  tesselated  pavement, 
now  in  the  British  Museum,  was  found  at  Lothbury. 
The  Exchange  stands,  as  we  have  already  men- 
tioned, on  a  mine  of  Roman  remains.  In  1840-41 
tesselated  pavements  were  found,  about  twelve  or 
fourteen  feet  deep,  beneath  the  old  French  Pro- 
testant Church,  with  coins  of  Agrippa,  Claudius, 
Domitian,  Marcus  Aurelius,  and  the  Constantines, 
together  with  fragments  of  frescoes,  and  much  char- 
coal and  charred  barley.  These  pavements  are 
also  preserved  in  the  British  Museum.  In  1854, 
in  excavating  the  site  of  the  church  of  St.  Benet 
Fink,  there  was  found  a  large  deposit  of  Roman 
debris,  consisting  of  Roman  tiles,  glass,  and  frag- 
ments of  black,  pale,  and  red  Samian  pottery. 

The  church  of  St.  Benet  P'ink,  of  which  a  repre- 
sentation is  given  at  page  468,  was  so  called  from 
one  Robert  Finck,  or  Finch,  who  built  a  previous 
church  on  the  same  site  (destroyed  by  the  Fire  of 
1666).  It  was  completed  by  Sir  Christopher  Wren, 
in  1673,  at  the  expense  of  J^^^jYt^o,  but  was  taken 
down  in  1844.  The  tower  was  square,  surmounted 
by  a  cupola  of  four  sides,  with  a  small  turret  on  the 
top.  There  was  a  large  recessed  doorway  on  the 
north  side,  of  very  good  design. 

The  arrangement  of  the  body  of  the  church  was 
very  peculiar,  we  may  say  unique ;  and  although 
far  from  beautiful,  afforded  a  striking  instance  of 
Wren's  wonderful  skill.  The  plan  of  the  church 
was  a  decagon,  within  which  six  composite  columns 
in  the  centre  supported  six  semi-circular  vaults. 
Wren's  power  of  arranging  a  plan  to  suit  the  site 
was  shown  in  numerous  buildings,  but  in  none 
more  forcibly  than  in  this  small  church. 

"  St.  Benedict's,"  says  Maitland,  "  is  vulgarly 
Bennet  Fink.  Though  this  church  is  at  present  a 
donative,  it  was  anciently  a  rectory,  in  the  gift  of 
the  noble  family  of  Nevil,  who  probably  conferred 
the  name  upon  the  neighbouring  hospital  of  St. 
Anthony." 

Newcourt,  who  lived  near  St.  Benet  Fink,  says 
the  monks  of  the  Order  of  St.  Anthony  hard  by 
were  so  importunate  in  their  requests  for  alms  that 
they  would  threaten  those  who  refused  them  with 
'*  St.  Anthony's  fire ;"  and  that  timid  people  were 


in  the  habit  of  presenting  them  with  fat  pigs,  in 
order  to  retain  their  good-will.  Their  pigs  thus 
became  numerous,  and,  as  they  were  allowed  to 
roam  about  for  food,  led  to  the  proverb,  "  He  will 
follow  you  like  a  St.  Anthony's  pig."  Stow  accounts 
for  the  number  of  these  pigs  in  another  way,  by 
saying  that  when  pigs  were  seized  in  the  markets 
by  the  City  officers,  as  ill-fed  or  unwholesome,  the 
monks  took  possession  of  them,  and  tying  a  bell 
about  their  neck,  allowed  them  to  stroll  about  on 
the  dunghills,  until  they  became  fit  for  food,  when 
they  were  claimed  for  the  convent. 

The  Merchant  Taylors,  whose  hall  is  very  appro- 
priately situated  in  Threadneedle  Street,  had  their 
first  licence  as  "  Linen  Armourers "  granted  by 
Edward  I.  Their  first  master,  Henry  de  Ryall,  was 
called  their  "  pilgrim,"  as  one  that  travelled  for  the 
whole  company,  and  their  wardens  "  purveyors  of 
dress."  Their  first  charter  is  dated  i  Edward  III. 
Richard  II.  confirmed  his  grandfather's  grants. 
From  Henry  IV.  they  obtained  a  confirmatory 
charter  by  the  name  of  the  "  Master  and  Wardens 
of  the  Fraternity  of  St.  John  the  Baptist  of 
London."  Henry  VI.  gave  them  the  right  of 
search  and  correction  of  abuses.  The  society 
was  incorporated  in  the  reign  of  Edward  IV., 
who  gave  them  arms ;  and  Henry  VII.,  being  a 
member  of  the  Company,  for  their  greater  honour 
transformed  them  from  Tailors  and  Linen  Ar- 
mourers to  Merchant  Taylors,  giving  them  their 
present  acting  charter,  which  afterwards  received 
the  confirmation  and  inspeximus  of  five  sovereigns 
—Henry  VIIL,  Edward  VL,  Philip  and  Mary, 
Elizabeth,  and  James  I. 

There  is  no  doubt  (says  Herbert)  that  Merchant 
Taylors  were  originally  bona  fide  cutters-out  and 
makers-up  of  clothes,  or  dealers  in  and  importers 
of  cloth,  having  tenter-grounds  in  Moorfields. 
The  ancient  London  tailors  made  both  men's  and 
women's  apparel,  also  soldiers'  quilted  surcoats,  the 
padded  lining  of  armour,  and  probably  the  trappings 
of  war-horses.  In  the  27th  year  of  Edward  III. 
the  Taylors  contributed  ;^2o  towards  the  French 
wars,  and  in  1377  they  sent  six  members  to 
the  Common  Council,  a  number  equalling  (says 
Herbert)  the  largest  guilds,  and  they  were  reckoned 


532 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON, 


[Threadneedle  Street. 


the  seventh  company  in  precedence.  In  1483  we 
find  the  Merchant  Taylors  and  Skinners  disputing 
for  precedence.  The  Lord  Mayor  decided  they 
should  take  precedence  alternately ;  and,  further, 
most  wisely  and  worshipfuUy  decreed  that  each 
Company  should  dine  in  the  other's  hall  twice  a 
year,  on  the  vigil  of  Corpus  Christi  and  the  feast  of 
St,  John  Baptist — a  laudable  custom,  which  soon 
restored  concord.  In  157 1  there  is  a  precept  from 
the  Mayor  ordering  that  ten  men  of  this  Company 
and  ten  men  of  the  Vintners'  should  ward  each  of 
the  City  gates  every  tenth  day.  In  1579  the  Com- 
pany was  required  to  provide  and  train  200  men 
for  anns.  In  1586  the  master  and  wardens  are 
threatened  by  the  Mayor  for  not  making  the  pro- 
vision of  gimpowder  required  of  all  the  London 
companies.  In  1588  the  Company  had  to  furnish 
thirty-five  armed  men,  as  its  quota  for  the  Queen's 
service  against  the  dreaded  Spanish  Armada. 

In  1592  an  interesting  entry  records  Stow  (a 
tailor  and  member  of  the  Company)  presenting 
his  famous  "  Annals  "  to  the  house,  and  receiving 
in  consequence  an  annuity  of  ^4.  per  annum, 
eventually  raised  to  ^10.  The  Company  after- 
wards restored  John  Stow's  monument  in  the 
Church  of  St.  Andrew  Undershaft.  Speed,  also  a 
tailor  and  member  of  the  Company,  on  the  same 
principle,  seems  to  have  presented  the  society  with 
valuable  maps,  for  which,  in  1600,  curtains  were 
provided.  In  1594  the  Company  subscribed  ;^5o 
towards  a  pest-house,  the  plague  then  raging  in  the 
City,  and  the  same  year  contributed  ^^296  los. 
towards  six  ships  and  a  pinnace  fitted  out  for  her 
Majesty's  service. 

In  1603  the  Company  contributed  ;!^234  towards 
the  ;i^2,5oo  required  from  the  London  companies 
to  welcome  James  I.  and  his  Danish  queen  to 
England.  Six  triumphal  arches  were  erected 
between  Fenchurch  Street  and  Temple  Bar,  that 
in  Fleet  Street  being  ninety  feet  high  and  fifty 
broad.  Decker  and  Ben  Jonson  furnished  the 
speeches  and  songs  for  this  pageant.  June  7, 
1607,  was  one  of  the  grandest  days  the  Company 
has  ever  known ;  for  James  I.  and  his  son,  Prince 
Henry,  dined  with  the  Merchant  Taylors.  It  had 
been  at  first  proposed  to  train  some  boys  of  Mer- 
chant Taylors'  School  to  welcome  the  king,  but  Ben 
Jonson  was  finally  invited  to  write  an  entertain- 
ment. The  king  and  prince  dined  separately.  The 
master  presented  the  king  with  a  purse  of  ;^ioo. 
"  Richard  Langley  shewed  him  a  role,  wherein  was 
registered  the  names  of  seaven  kinges,  one  queene, 
seventeene  princes  and  dukes,  two  dutchesses,  one 
archbishoppe,  one  and  thirtie  earles,  five  countesses, 
9ne  viscount,  fourteene  bvshoppes,  sixtie  and  sixe 


barons,  two  ladies,  seaven  abbots,  seaven  priors, 
and  one  sub-prior,  omitting  a  great  number  of 
knights,  esqi.iires,  Sec,  who  had  been  free  of  that 
companie."  The  prince  was  then  made  a  free- 
man, and  put  on  the  garland.  There  Avere  twelve 
lutes  (six  in  one  window  and  six  in  another). 

"  In  the  ayr  betweene  them "  (or  swung  up 
above  their  heads)  "  was  a  gallant  shippe  trium- 
phant, wherein  was  three  menne  like  saylers,  being 
eminent  for  voyce  and  skill,  who  in  their  severall 
songes  were  assisted  and  seconded  by  the  cunning 
lutanists.  There  was  also  in  the  hall  the  niusique 
of  the  cittie,  and  in  the  upper  chamber  the  children 
of  His  Majestie's  Chappell  sang  grace  at  the  King's 
table ;  and  also  whilst  the  King  sate  at  dinner 
John  Bull,  Doctor  of  Musique,  one  of  the  organists 
of  His  Majestie's  Chapell  Royall,  being  in  a 
cittizen's  cap  and  gowne,  cappe  and  hood  (i.e., 
as  a  liveryman),  played  most  excellent  melodie 
uppon  a  small  payre  of  organ  es,  placed  there  for 
that  purpose  onely." 

The  king  seems  at  this  time  to  have  scarcely 
recovered  the  alarm  of  the  Gunpowder  Plot ;  for 
the  entries  in  the  Company's  books  show  that 
there  was  great  searching  of  rooms  and  inspection 
of  walls,  "  to  prevent  villanie  and  danger  to  His 
Majestie."  The  cost  of  this  feast  was  more  than 
;^i,ooo.  The  king's  chamber  was  made  by 
cutting  a  hole  in  the  wall  of  the  hall,  and  building 
a  small  room  behind  it. 

In  1607  (James  I.),  before  a  Company's  dinner, 
the  names  of  the  livery  were  called,  and  notice 
taken  of  the  absent.  Then  prayer  was  said,  every 
one  kneeling,  after  which  the  names  of  benefactors 
and  their  "charitable  and  godly  devices"  were 
read,  also  the  ordinances,  and  the  orders  for  the 
grammar-school  in  St.  Laurence  Pountney.  Then 
followed  the  dinner,  to  which  were  invited  the 
assistants  and  the  ladies,  and  old  masters'  wives 
and  wardens'  wives,  the  preacher,  the  schoolmaster, 
the  wardens'  substitutes,  and  the  humble  almsmen 
of  the  livery.  Sometimes,  as  in  1645,  the  whole 
livery  was  invited. 

The  kindness  and  charity  of  the  Company  are 
strongly  shown  in  an  entry  of  May  23,  16 10,  when 
John  Churchman,  a  past  master,  received  a  pension 
of  ;^2o  per  annum.  With  true  consideration,  they 
allowed  him  to  wear  his  bedesman's  gown  without 
a  badge,  and  did  not  require  him  to  appear  in  the 
hall  with  the  other  pensioners.  All  that  was  re- 
quired was  that  he  should  attend  Divine  service 
and  pray  for  the  prosperity  of  the  Company,  and 
share  his  house  with  Roger  Silverwood,  clerk  of 
the  Bachellors'  Company.  Gifts  to  the  Company 
seem  to  have  been  numerous.     Thus  we  have 


Threaclneedle  Street.] 


Royal  taylors. 


$ii 


(1604)  Richard  Dove's  gift  of  twenty  gilt  spoons, 
marked  with  a  dove  ;  (1605)  a  basin  and  ewer, 
vakie  ;^59  12s.,  gift  of  Thomas  Medlicott;  (1614) 
a  standing  cup,  value  100  marks,  from  Murphy 
Corbett ;  same  year,  seven  pictures  for  the  parlour, 
from  Mr.  John  Vernon. 

In  1640  the  Civil  War  Avas  brewing,  and  the 
Mayor  ordered  the  Company  to  provide  (in  their 
garden)  forty  barrels  of  powder  and  300  hundred- 
weight of  metal  and  bullets.  They  had  at  this 
time  in  their  armoury  forty  muskets  and  rests,  forty 
muskets  and  headpieces,  twelve  round  muskets, 
forty  corselets  with  headpieces,  seventy  pikes,  123 
swords,  and  twenty-three  halberts.  The  same  year 
they  lent  ;^5,ooo  towards  the  maintenance  of  the 
king's  northern  army.  In  the  procession  on  the 
return  of  Charles  I.  from  Scotland,  the  Merchant 
Taylors  seem  to  have  taken  a  very  conspicuous 
part.  Thirty-four  of  the  gravest,  tallest,  and  most 
comely  of  the  Company,  apparelled  in  velvet  plush 
or  satin,  with  chains  of  gold,  each  with  a  footman 
with  two  staff-torches,  met  the  Lord  Mayor  and 
aldermen  outside  the  City  wall,  near  Moorfields, 
and  accompanied  them  to  Guildhall,  and  afterwards 
escorted  the  king  from  Guildhall  to  his  palace. 
The  footmen  wore  ribands  of  the  colour  of  the 
Company,  and  pendants  with  the  Company's  coat- 
of-arms.  The  Company's  standing  extended  252 
feet.  There  stood  the  livery  in  their  best  gowns 
and  hoods,  with  their  banners  and  streamers. 
"  Eight  handsome,  tall,  and  able  men "  attended 
the  king  at  dinner.  This  was  the  last  honour 
shown  the  faithless  king  by  the  citizens  of 
London. 

The  next  entries  are  about  arms,  powder,  and 
fire-engines,  the  defacing  superstitious  pictures,  and 
the  setting  up  the  arms  of  the  Commonwealth. 
In  1654  the  Company  was  so  impoverished  by  the 
frequent  forced  loans,  that  they  had  been  obliged 
to  sell  part  of  their  rental  (;^i8o  per  annum) ;  yet 
at  the  same  date  the  generous  Company  seem  to 
have  given  the  poet  Ogilvy  ^^13  6s.  8d.,  he  having 
presented  them  with  bound  copies  of  his  transla- 
tions of  Virgil  and  ^sop  into  English  metre.  In 
1664  the  boys  of  Merchant  Taylors'  School  acted 
in  the  Company's  hall  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's 
comedy  of  Love's  Pilgrimage. 

In  1679  the  Duke  of  York,  as  Captain-general 
of  the  Artillery,  was  entertained  by  the  artillerymen 
at  Merchant  Taylors'  Hall.  It  was  supposed  that 
the  banquet  was  given  to  test  the  duke's  popularity 
and  to  discomfit  the  Protestants  and  exclusionists. 
After  a  sermon  at  Bow  Church,  the'  artillerymen 
(128)  mustered  at  dinner.  Many  zealous  Protes- 
tants, rather  than  dine  with   a  Popish   duke,  tore  \ 


up  their  tickets  or  gave  them  to  porters  and 
mechanics ;  and  as  the  duke  returned  along  Cheap- 
side,  the  people  shouted,  "  No  Pope,  no  Pope  ! 
No  Papist,  no  Papist !" 

In  1696  the  Company  ordered  a  portrait  of  Mr. 
Vernon,  one  of  their  benefactors,  to  be  hung  up 
in  St.  Michael's  Church,  Cornhill.  In  1702  they 
let  their  hall  and  rooms  to  the  East  India  Com- 
pany for  a  meeting  ;  and  in  1 7  2 1  they  let  a  room 
to  the  South  Sea  Company  for  the  same  purpose. 
In  1768,  when  the  Lord  Mayor  visited  the  King 
of  Denmark,  the  Company's  committee  decided, 
"  there  should  be  no  breakfast  at  the  hall,  nor  pipes 
nor  tobacco  in  the  barge  as  usual,  on  Lord  Mayor's 
Day."  Mr.  Herbert  thinks  that  this  is  the  last 
instance  of  a  Lord  Mayor  sending  a  precept  to  a 
City  company,  though  this  is  by  no  means  certain. 
In  1778,  Mr.  Clarkson,  an  assistant,  for  having 
given  the  Company  the  picture,  still  extant,  of 
Henry  VII.  delivering  his  charter  to  the  Merchant 
Taylors,  was  presented  with  a  silver  waiter,  value 

For  the  searching  and  measuring  cloth,  the 
Company  kept  a  "  silver  yard,"  that  weighed  thirty- 
six  ounces,  and  was  graven  with  the  Company's 
arms.  With  this  measure  they  attended  Bartholo- 
mew Fair  yearly,  and  an  annual  dinner  took  place 
on  the  occasion.  The  livery  hoods  seem  finally,  in 
1568,  to  have  settled  down  to  scarlet  and  puce,  the 
gowns  to  blue.  The  Merchant  Taylors'  Company, 
though  not  the  first  in  City  precedence,  ranks  more 
royal  and  noble  personages  amongst  its  members 
than  any  other  company.  At  King  James's  visit, 
before  mentioned,  no  fewer  than  twenty-two  earls 
and  lords,  besides  knights,  esquires,  and  foreign  am- 
bassadors, were  enrolled.  Before  1708,  the  Com- 
pany had  granted  the  freedom  to  ten  kings,  three 
princes,  twenty-seven  bishops,  twenty-six  dukes, 
forty-seven  carls,  and  sixteen  lord  mayors.  The 
Company  is  specially  proud  of  three  illustrious 
members — Sir  John  Hawkwood,  a  great  leader  of 
ItaHan  Condottieri,  who  fought  for  the  Dukes  of 
Milan,  and  was  buried  with  honour  in  the  Duomo 
at  Florence ;  Sir  Ralph  Blackwell,  the  supposed 
founder  of  Blackwell  Hall,  and  one  of  Hawk- 
wood's  companions  at  arms ;  and  Sir  William  Fitz- 
william.  Lord  High  Admiral  to  Henry  VIIL,  and 
Earl  of  Southampton.  He  left  to  the  Merchant 
Taylors  his  best  standing  cup,  "  in  friendly  remem- 
brance of  him  for  ever."  They  also  boast  of 
Sir  William  Craven,  ancestor  of  the  Earls  of 
Craven,  who  came  up  to  London  a  poor  York- 
shire lad,  and  was  bound  apprentice  to  a  draper. 
His  eldest  son  fought  for  Gustavus  Adolphus,  and 
is  supposed  to  have  secretly  married  the  unfortu- 


534 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Threadneedle  Street. 


nate  Queen  of  Bohemia,  whom  he  had  so  faithfully 
served. 

The  hall  in  Threadneedle  Street  originally  be- 
longed to  a  worshipful  gentleman  named  Edmund 
Crepin.  The  Company  moved  there  in  1331 
(Edward  III.)  from  the  old  hall,  which  was  behind 
the  "  Red  Lion,"  in  Basing  Lane,  Cheapside,  an 
executor  of  the  Outwich  family  leaving  them  the 


arched  gate  of  entrance,  and  is  lighted  in  front 
by  nine  large  windows,  exclusive  of  three  smaller 
attic  windows,  and  at  the  east  end  by  seven.  The 
roof  is  lofty  and  pointed,  and  is  surmounted  by  a 
louvre  or  lantern,  with  a  vane.  The  almshouses 
form  a  small  range  of  cottage-like  buildings,  and  are 
situate  between  the  hall  and  a  second  large  building, 
which  adjoins  the  church,  and  bears  some  resem- 


Threadneedle  Street 


GROUND   PLAN   OF   THE  MODERN   CHURCH   OF  ST.    MARTIN   OUTWICH. 
{From  a  measured  Drawing;  iy  Mr.  IV.  G.  Smith,  1873.) 


A.  Monument :  Edward  Edwards,  1810. 

B.  Ancient  Canopied  Monument :  "  Pem- 

berton,"  no  date. 

C.  Monument :  Cruickshank,  1826. 

D.  Monuments :    Simpson,    1849 ;    Ellis, 

1838. 

E.  Monument :  Ellis,  1855.. 


F.  Monument :  Simpson,  1837. 

G.  Monument :  Rose,  1821. 

H.  Monuments :    Atkinson,    1847  ;    Ellis, 

1838. 
J.  Monument :  Richard  Stapler. 
K.   Monument  :  Teesdale,  1804. 
L,  L.  Stairs  to  Gallery  above. 


M.  Very  Ancient  Effigy  of  Founder,  St. 

Martin  de  Oteswich, 
N.   Reading  Dask. 
O.   Pulpit. 
P.  Altar. 
Q.   Font. 
R.  Vestry. 


advowson  of  St.  Martin  Outwich,  and  seventeen 
shops.  The  Company  built  seven  almshouses  near 
the  hall  in  the  reign  of  Henry  IV.  The  original 
mansion  of  Crepin  probably  at  this  time  gave  way 
to  a  new  hall,  and  to  which  now,  for  the  first  time, 
were  attached  the  almshouses  mentioned.  Both 
these  piles  of  building  are  shown  in  the  ancient 
plan  of  St.  Martin  Outwich,  preserved  in  the 
church  vestry,  and  which  was  taken  by  William 
Goodman  in  1599.  The  hall,  as  there  drawn,  is 
a  high  building,  consisting  of  a  ground  floor  and 
three   upper   storeys.     It   has  a   central   pointed- 


blance  to  an  additional  hall  or  chapel.  It  appears 
to  rise  alternately  from  one  to  two  storeys  high. 

In  1620  the  hall  was  wainscoted  instead  of 
whitewashed ;  and  in  1 646  it  was  paved  with  red 
tile,  rushes  or  earthen  floors  having  "  been  found 
inconvenient,  and  oftentimes  noisome."  At  the 
Great  Fire  the  Company's  plate  was  melted  into 
a  lump  of  two  hundred  pounds'  weight. 

In  the  reign  of  Edward  VI.,  when  there  was  an 
inquiry  into  property  devoted  to  superstitious  uses, 
the  Company  had  been  maintaining  twenty-three 
chantry  priests. 


Tlireadneedle  Street.] 


THE  MERCHANT  TAYLORS'   HALL. 


S3S 


536 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Threadneedle  Streei 


The  modern  Merchant  Taylors'  Hall  (says  Her- 
bert) is  a  spacious  but  irregular  edifice  of  brick. 
The  front  exhibits  an  arched  portal,  consisting  of 
anarched  pediment,  supported  on  columns  of  the 
Composite  order,  with  an  ornamental  niche  above ; 
in  the  pediment  are  the  Company's  arms.    The  hall 
itself  is  a  spacious  and  handsome  apartment,  having 
at  the  lower  end  a  stately  screen  of  the  Corinthian 
order,  and  in  the  upper  part  a  very  large  mahogany 
table  thirty  feet  long.     The  sides  of  the  hall  have 
numerous  emblazoned  shields  of  masters'  arms,  and 
behind  the  master's  seat  are  inscribed  in  golden 
letters  the  names  of  the  different  sovereigns,  dukes, 
earls,  lords  spiritual  and  temporal,  &c.,  who  have 
been  free  of  this  community.    In  the  drawing-room 
are  full-length  portraits  of  King  "William  and  Queen 
Mary,  and  other  sovereigns  •  and  in  the  court  and 
other  rooms  are  half-lengths  of  Henry  VIH.  and 
Charles  IL,  of  tolerable  execution,  besides  various 
other  portraits,  amongst  which   are  those   of  Sir 
Thomas  White,  Lord  Mayor  in  1553,  the  estim- 
able  founder  of  St.  John's   College,   Cambridge, 
and  Sir  Thomas   Rowe,    Lord    Mayor    in    1568, 
and   Mr.  Clarkson's   picture   of  Henry  VII.  pre- 
senting   the    Company   with    their    incorporation 
charter.     In  this  painting  the  king  is  represented 
seated  on  his  throne,  and  delivering  the  charter 
to  the  Master,  Wardens,  and  Court  of  Assistants 
of  the  Company.     His  attendants  are  Archbishop 
Warham,  the  Chancellor,  and  Fox,  Bishop  of  Win- 
chester, Lord  Privy  Seal,  on  his  right  hand ;  and 
on  his  left,  Robert  Willoughby,  Lord  Broke,  then 
Lord  Steward  of  the  Household.     In  niches  are 
shown   the   statues   of  Edward  III.  and  John  of 
Gaunt,  the  king's  ancestors.     In  the  foreground 
the  clerk  of  the  Company  is  exhibiting  the   roll 
with  the  names  of  the  kings,  &c.,  who  were  free  of 
this  Company.    In  the  background  are  represented 
the  banners  of  the  Company  and  of  the  City  of 
London.     The  Yeomen  of  the  Guard,  at  the  en- 
trance of  the  palace,  close  the  view.     On  the  stair- 
case  are   likewise  pictures  of  the  following  Lord 
Mayors,  Merchant  Taylors :— Sir  William  Turner, 
1669;  Sir  P.  Ward,  1681  ;  Sir  William  Pritchard, 
1683  ;  and  Sir  John  Salter,  1741. 

The  interior  of  the  "  New  Hall,  or  Taylors'  Inne," 
was  adorned  with  costly  tapestry,  or  arras,  repre- 
senting the  history  of  St.  John  the  Baptist.  It  had 
a  screen,  supporting  a  silver  image  of  that  saint  in 
a  tabernacle,  or,  according  to  an  entry  of  15 12, 
"an  ymage  of  St.  John  gilt,  in  a  tabernacle  gilt." 
The  hall  windows  were  painted  with  armorial  bear- 
ings ;  the  floor  was  regularly  strewed  with  clean 
rushes ;  from  the  ceiling  hung  silk  flags  and 
streamers ;  and  the  hall  itself  was  furnished,  when 


needful,  with  tables  on  tressels,  covered  on  feast 
days  with  splendid  table  linen,  and  glittering  with 
plate. 

The  Merchant  Taylors  have  for  their  armorial 
ensigns — Argent,  a  tent  royal  between  two  par- 
liament robes  ;  gules,  lined  ermine,  on  a  chief 
azure,  a  lion  of  England.  Crest — a  Holy  Lamb,  in 
glory  proper.  Supporters — two  camels,  or.  Motto 
— "  Concordia  parvje  res  crescunt." 

The  stained  glass  windows  of  the  old  St.  Martin 
Outwich,  as  engraven  in  Wilkinson's  history  of  that 
church,  contain  a  representation  of  the  original 
arms,  granted  by  Clarenciqux  in  1480.  They  differ 
from  the  present  (granted  in  1586),  the  latter  having 
a  lion  instead  of  the  Holy  Lamb  (which  is  in  the 
body  of  the  first  arms),  and  which  latter  is  now 
their  crest. 

One  of  the  most  splendid  sights  at  this  hall  in 
the  earlier  times  would  have  been  (says  Herbert), 
of  course,  when  the  Company  received  the  high 
honour  of  enrolling  King  Henry  VII.  amongst 
their  members ;  and  subsequently  to  which,  "  he 
sat  openly  among  them  in  a  gown  of  crimson 
velvet  on  his  shoulders,"  says  Strype,  "  d  la  mode 
de  Londres,  upon  their  solemn  feast  day,  in  the 
hall  of  the  said  Company." 

From  Merchant  Taylors'  Hall  began  the  famous 
cavalcade  of  the  archers,  under  their  leader,  as 
Duke  of  Shoreditch,  in  1530,  consisting  of  3,000 
archers,  sumptuously  apparelled,  942  whereof  wore 
chains  of  gold  about  their  necks.  This  splendid 
company  was  guarded  by  whiffiers  and  billmen,  to 
the  number  of  4,000,  besides  pages  and  footmen, 
who  marched  through  Broad  Street  (the  residence 
of  the  duke  their  captain).  They  continued  their 
march  through  Moorfields,  by  Finsbury,  to  Smith- 
field,  where,  after  having  performed  their  several 
evolutions,  they  shot  at  the  target  for  glory. 

The  Hall  of  Commerce,  existing  some  years  ago 
in  Threadneedle  Street,  was  begun  in  1830  by  Mr. 
Edward  Moxhay,  a  speculative  biscuit-baker,  on  the 
site  of  the  old  French  church.  Mr.  Moxhay  had 
been  a  shoemaker,  but  he  suddenly  started  as  a 
rival  to  the  celebrated  Leman,  in  Gracechurch 
Street.  He  was  an  amateur  architect  of  talent,  and 
it  was  said  at  the  time,  probably  unjustly,  that  the 
building  originated  in  Moxhay's  vexation  at  the 
Gresham  committee  rejecting  his  design  for  a  new 
Royal  Exchange.  He  opened  his  great  com- 
mercial news-room  two  years  before  the  Exchange 
was  finished,  and  while  merchants  were  fretting  at 
the  delay,  intending  to  make  the  hall  a  mercantile 
centre,  to  the  annihilation  of  Lloyd's,  the  Baltic, 
Garraway's,  the  Jerusalem,  and  the  North  and  South 
American  Coffee-houses.     jQ-j 0,000  were  laid  out. 


Threadneedle  Street.! 


ST.   ANTHONY'S    SCHOOL. 


537 


There  was  a  grand  bas-relief  on  tlie  front  by  Mr. 
Watson,  a  young  sculptor  of  promise,  and  there 
was  an  inaugurating  banquet.  The  annual  sub- 
scription of  ;^5  5s.  soon  dwindled  to  ;£i  los.  6d. 
There  was  a  reading-room,  and  a  room  where 
commission  agents  could  exhibit  their  samples. 
Wool  sales  Avere  held  there,  and  there  was  an 
auction  for  railway  shares.  There  were  also  rooms 
for  meetings  of  creditors  and  private  arbitrations, 
and  rooms  for  the  deposit  of  deeds. 

A  describer  of  Threadneedle  Street  in  1845 
particularly  mentions  amongst  the  few  beggars  the 
Creole  flower-girls,  the  decayed  ticket-porters,  and 
cripples  on  go-carts  who  haunted  the  neighbour- 
hood, a  poor,  shrivelled  old  woman,  who  sold  fruit 
on  a  stall  at  a  corner  of  one  of  the  courts.  She 
was  the  wife  of  Daniel  Good,  the  murderer. 

The  Baltic  Coffee  House,  in  Threadneedle  Street, 
used  to  be  the  rendezvous  of  tallow,  oil,  hemp, 
and  seed  merchants  ;  indeed,  of  all  merchants  and 
brokers  connected  with  the  Russian  trade.  There 
was  a  time  when  there  was  as  much  gambling  in 
tallow  as  in  Consols,  but  the  breaking  down  of 
the  Russian  monopoly  by  the  increased  introduc- 
tion of  South  American  and  Australian  tallow  has 
done  away  with  this.  Mr.  Richard  Thornton  and 
Mr.  Jeremiah  Harman  were  the  two  monarchs  of 
the  Russian  trade  forty  years  ago.  The  public  sale- 
room was  in  the  upper  part  of  the  house.  The 
Baltic  was  superintended  by  a  committee  of 
management. 

That  famous  free  school  of  the  City,  St.  An- 
thony's, stood  in  Threadneedle  Street,  where  the 
P>ench  church  afterwards  stood,  and  where  the 
Bank  of  London  now  stands.  It  was  originally 
a  Jewish  synagogue,  granted  by  Henry  V.  to  the 
brotherhood  of  St.  Anthony  of  Vienna.  A  hos- 
pital was  afterwards  built  there  for  a  master,  two 
priests,  a  schoolmaster,  and  twelve  poor  men.  The 
Free  School  seems  to  have  been  built  in  the  reign 
of  Henry  VI.,  who  gave  five  presentations  to  Eton 
and  five  Oxford  scholarships,  at  the  rate  of  ten 
francs  a  week  each,  to  the  institution.  Henry  VIII., 
that  arch  spoliator,  annexed  the  school  to  the 
collegiate  church  of  St.  George's,  Windsor.  The 
proctors  of  St.  Anthony's  used  to  wander  about 
London  collecting  "  the  benevolence  of  charitable 
persons  towards  the  building."  The  school  had 
great  credit  in  Elizabeth's  reign,  and  was  a  rival  of 
St.  Paul's.  That  inimitable  coxcomb,  Laneham, 
in  his  description  of  the  great  visit  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth to  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  at  Kenilworth  Castle, 
1575)  '''•  book  which  Sir  Walter  Scott  has  largely 
availed  himself  of,  says — "  Yee  mervail  perchance," 
saith  he,  "to  see  me  so  bookish.     Let  me  tel  you 


in  few  words.     I  went  to  school,  forsooth,  both  at 
Polle's  and  also  at  St.  Antonie's ;  (was)  in  the  fifth 
forme,  past  Esop's  Fables,  readd  Terence,  Vos  isthcBC    * 
i7itro  auferte ;  and  began  with  my  Virgil,  Tityre  tu  ' 
patulcB.     I  could  say  my  rules,  could  construe  and 
pars  with  the  best  of  them,"  &c. 

In  Elizabeth's  reign  "  the  Anthony's  pigs,"  as 
the  "  Paul's  pigeons  "  used  to  call  the  Threadneedle 
boys,  used  to  have  an  annual  breaking-up  day  pro- 
cession, with  streamers,  flags,  and  beating  drums, 
from  Mile  End  to  Austin  Friars.  The  French  or 
Walloon  church  established  here  by  Edward  VI. 
seems,  in  1652,  to  have  been  the  scene  of  constant 
wrangling  among  the  pastors,  as  to  whether  their 
disputes  about  celebrating  holidays  should  be  settled 
by  "  colloquies"  of  the  foreign  churches  in  London, 
or  the  French  churches  of  all  England.  At  this 
school  were  educated  the  great  Sir  Thomas  More, 
and  that  excellent  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  the 
zealous  Whitgift  (the  friend  of  Beza,  the  Reformer), 
whose  only  fault  seems  to  have  been  his  perse- 
cutions of  the  Genevese  clergy  whom  Elizabeth 
disliked. 

Next  in  importance  to  Lloyd's  for  the  general 
information  afforded  to  the  public,  was  certainly  the 
North  and  South  American  Coffee  House  (formerly 
situated  in  Threadneedle  Street),  fronting  the 
thoroughfare  leading  to  the  entrance  of  the  Royal 
Exchange.  This  establishment  was  the  complete 
centre  for  American  intelligence.  There  was  in 
this,  as  in  the  whole  of  the  leading  City  coffee- 
houses, a  subscription  room  devoted  to  the  use  of 
merchants  and  others  frequenting  the  house,  who, 
by  paying  an  annual  sum,  had  the  right  of  attend- 
ance to  read  the  general  news  of  tl>e  day,  and 
make  reference  to  the  several  files  of  papers,  which 
were  from  every  quarter  of  the  globe.  It  was  here 
also  that  first  information  could  be  obtained  of  the 
arrival  and  departure  of  the  fleet  of  steamers, 
packets,  and  masters  engaged  in  the  commerce  of 
America,  whether  in  relation  to  the  minor  ports  of 
Montreal  and  Quebec,  or  the  larger  ones  of  Boston, 
Halifax,  and  New  York.  The  room  the  subscribers 
occupied  had  a  separate  entrance  to  that  which 
was  common  to  the  frequenters  of  the  eating  and 
drinking  part  of  the  house,  and  was  most  comfortably 
and  neatly  kept,  being  well,  and  in  some  degree 
elegantly  furnished.  The  heads  of  the  chief 
American  and  Continental  firms  were  on  the  sub- 
scription list ;  and  the  representatives  of  Baring's, 
Rothschild's,  and  the  other  large  establishments 
celebrated  for  their  wealth  and  extensive  mercan- 
tile operations,  attended  the  rooms  as  regularly  as 
'Change,  to  see  and  hear  what  was  going  on,  and 
gossip  over  points  of  business.  • 


538 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Thread  needle  Street. 


At  the  north-east  extremity  of  Threadneedle 
Street  is  the  once  famous  South  Sea  House.  The 
back,  formerly  the  Excise  Office,  afterwards  the 
South  Sea  Company's  office,  thence  called  the  Old 
South  Sea  House,  was  consumed  by  fire  in  1826.  The 
building  in  Threadneedle  Street,  in  which  the  Com- 
pany's affairs  were  formerly  transacted,  is  a  magnifi- 
cent structure  of  brick  and  stone,  about  a  quadrangle, 
supported  by  stone  pillars  of  the  Tuscan  order, 
which  form  a  fine  piazza.  The  front  looks  into 
Threadneedle  Street,  the  walls  being  well  built  and 
of  great  thickness.  The  several  offices  were  ad- 
mirably disposed ;  the  great  hall  for  sales,  the 
dining-room,  galleries,  and  chambers  were  equally 
beautiful  and  convenient.  Under  these  were  capa- 
cious arched  vaults,  to  guard  what  was  valuable 
from  the  chances  of  fire. 

The  South  Sea  Company  was  originated  by 
Swift's  friend,  Harley,  Earl  of  Oxford,  in  the  year 
1 7 1 1.  The  new  Tory  Government  was  less  popular 
than  the  Whig  one  it  had  displaced,  and  public 
credit  had  fallen.  Harley  wishing  to  provide  for 
the  discharge  of  ten  millions  of  the  floating  debt, 
guaranteed  six  per  cent,  to  a  company  who  agreed 
to  take  it  on  themselves.  The  ;^6oo,ooo  due  for 
the  annual  interest  was  raised  by  duties  on  wines, 
silks,  tobacco,  &c. ;  and  the  monopoly  of  the  trade 
to  the  South  Seas  granted  to  the  ambitious  new 
Company,  which  was  incorporated  by  Act  of 
Parliament. 

To  the  enthusiastic  Company  the  gold  of  Mexico 
and  the  silver  of  Peru  seemed  now  obtainable  by 
the  ship-load.  It  was  reported  that  Spain  was 
willing  to  open  four  ports  in  Chili  and  Peru.  The 
negotiations,  however,  with  Philip  V.  of  Spain  led 
to  little.  The  Company  obtained  only  the  privilege 
of  supplying  the  Spanish  colonies  with  negro  slaves 
for  thirty  years,  and  sending  an  annual  vessel  to 
trade;  but  even  of  this  vessel  the  Spanish  king 
was  to  have  one-fourth  of  the  profits,  and  a  tax  of 
five  per  cent,  on  the  residue.  The  first  vessel  did 
not  sail  till  1 7 1 7,  and  the  year  after  a  rupture  with 
Spain  closed  the  trade. 

In  1 7 17,  the  King  alluding  to  his  wish  to  reduce 
the  National  Debt,  the  South  Sea  Company  at  once 
petitioned  Parliament  (in  rivalry  with  the  Bank) 
that  their  capital  stock  might  be  increased  from  ten 
miUions  to  twelve,  and  offered  to  accept  five,  instead 
of  six  per  cent,  upon  the  whole  amount.  Their 
proposals  were  accepted. 

The  success  of  Law's  Mississippi  scheme,  in 
1720,  roused  the  South  Sea  directory  to  emulation. 
They  proposed  to  liquidate  the  public  debt  by 
reducing  the  various  funds  into  one.  January  22, 
1720,  a  committee  met  on  the  subject.    The  South 


Sea  Company  offered  to  melt  every  kind  of  stock 
into  a  single  security.  The  debt  amounted  to 
;^3o,98i,7i2  at  five  per  cent,  for  seven  years,  and 
afterwards  at  four  per  cent,  for  which  they  would 
pay  ;!^3, 500,000.  The  Government  approved  of 
the  scheme,  but  the  Bank  of  England  opposed 
it,  and  offered  ^^5, 000,000  for  the  privilege.  The 
South  Sea  shareholders  were  not  to  be  outdone, 
and  ultimately  increased  their  terms  to  ;^7, 500,000. 
In  the  end  they  remained  the  sole  bidders ; 
though  some  idea  prevailed  of  sharing  the  advantage 
between  the  two  companies,  till  Sir  John  Blunt 
exclaimed,  "  No,  sirs,  we'll  never  divide  the  child  !" 
The  preference  thus  given  excited  a  positive  frenzy 
in  town  and  country.  On  the  2nd  of  June  their 
stock  rose  to  890 ;  it  quickly  reached  1,000,  and 
several  of  the  principal  managers  were  dubbed 
baronets  for  their  "  great  services."  Mysterious 
rumours  of  vast  treasures  to  be  acquired  in  the 
South  Seas  got  abroad,  and  50  per  cent,  was 
boldly  promised. 

"  The  scheme,"  says  Smollett,  "was  first  projected 
by  Sir  John  Blount,  who  had  been  bred  a  scrivener, 
and  was  possessed  of  all  the  cunning,  plausibility, 
and  boldness  requisite  for  such  an  undertaking. 
He  communicated  his  plan  to  Mr.  Aislabie,  tlie 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  and  a  Secretary  of 
State.  He  answered  every  objection,  and  the 
project  was  adopted." 

Sir  Robert  Walpole  alone  opposed  the  bill  in  the 
House,  and  with  clear-sighted  sense  (though  the 
stock  had  risen  from  130  to  300  in  one  day)  de- 
nounced "  the  dangerous  practice  of  stock-jobbing, 
and  the  general  infatuation,  which  must,"  he  said, 
"  end  in  general  ruin."  Rumours  of  free  trade 
with  Spain  pushed  the  shares  up  to  400,  and  the 
bill  passed  the  Commons  by  a  majority  of  172 
against  55.  In  the  other  House,  17  peers  were 
against  it,  and  83  for  it.  Then  the  madness  fairly 
began.  Stars  and  garters  mingled  with  squabbling. 
Jews,  and  great  ladies  pawned  their  jewels  in  order 
to  gamble  in  the  Alley.  The  shares  sinking  a  little, 
they  were  revived  by  lying  rumours  that  Gibraltar 
and  Port  Mahon  were  going  to  be  exchanged  for 
Peruvian  sea-ports,  so  that  the  Company  would  be 
allowed  to  send  out  whole  fleets  of  ships. 

Government,  at  last  alarmed,  began  too  late  to 
act.  On  July  18  the  King  published  a  proclama- 
tion denouncing  eighteen  petitions  for  letters  patent 
and  eighty-six  bubble  companies,  of  which  the  fol- 
lowing are  samples  : — 

For  sinking  pits  and  smelting  lead  ore  in  Derl^yshire. 
For  making  glass  bottles  and  other  glass. 
For  a  wheel  for  perpetual  motion.     Capital  ;^  1,000,000. 
For  improving  of  gardens. 


Threadneedle  Street.] 


THE  SOUTH   SEA   INFATUATION. 


539 


For  insuring  and  increasing  children's  fortunes. 

For  entering  and  loading  goods  at  the  Custom  House ; 
and  for  negotiating  business  for  merchants. 

For  carrying  on  a  woollen  manufacture  in  the  North  of 
England. 

For  importing  walnut-trees  from  Virginia.  Capital 
;^2, 000,000. 

For  making  Manchester  stuffs  of  thread  and  cotton. 

For  making  Joppa  and  Castile  soap. 

For  improving  tlte  wrought  iron  and  steel  manufactures  of 
this  kingdom.     Capital  ;^4,ooo,ooo. 

For  dealing  in  lace,  Hollands,  cambrics,  lawns,  &c. 
Capital  ;if2,ooo,ooo. 

For  traoling  in  and  improving  certain  commodities  of  the 
produce  of  this  kingdom,  &c.     Capital  ;i^3, 000,000. 

For  supplying  the  London  markets  with  cattle. 

For  making  looking-glasses,  coach -glasses,  &c.     Capital 

;^2,000,000. 

For  taking  up  ballast.  * 

For  buying  and  fitting  out  ships  to  suppress  pirates. 

For    the    importation    of   timber  from   Wales.     Capital 

;^2,000,000. 

For  rock-salt. 

For  the  transmutation  of  quicksilver  into  a  malleable,  fine 
metal. 

One  of  the  most  famous  bubbles  was  "  Puckle's 
Machine  Company,"  for  discharging  round  and 
square  cannon-balls  and  bullets,  and  making  a 
total  revolution  in  the  art  of  war.  "  But  the 
most  absurd  and  preposterous  of  all,"  says  Charles 
Mackay,  in  his  "  History  of  the  Delusion,"  "  and 
which  showed  more  completely  than  any  other  the 
utter  madness  of  the  people,  was  one  started  by 
an  unknown  adventurer,  entitled,  ^A  Compariy  for 
carrying  on  an  undertaking  of  great  advantage,  but 
jiobody  to  know  what  it  is.'  Were  not  the  fact 
stated  by  scores  of  credible  witnesses,  it  would  be 
impossible  to  believe  that  any  person  could  have 
been  duped  by  such  a  project.  The  man  of  genius 
who  essayed  this  bold  and  successful  inroad  upon 
public  credulity  merely  stated  in  his  prospectus 
that  the  required  capital  was  _;^5 00,000,  in  5,000 
shares  of  ;^ioo  each,  deposit  ;^2  per  share.  Each 
subscriber  paying  his  deposit  would  be  entitled  to 
;^ioo  per  annum  per  share.  How  this  immense 
profit  was  to  be  obtained  he  did  not  condescend  to 
inform  them  at  the  time,  but  promised  that  in  a 
month  full  particulars  should  be  duly  announced, 
and  a  call  made  for  the  remaining  ;£gS  of  the 
subscription.  Next  morning,  at  nine  o'clock,  this 
great  man  opened  an  office  in  Cornhill.  Crowds 
of  people  beset  his  door ;  and  when  he  shut  up  at 
three  o'clock  he  found  that  no  less  than  1,000  shares 
had  been  subscribed  for,  and  the  deposits  paid. 
He  was  thus  in  five  hours  the  winner  of  ;!^2,ooo. 
He  was  philosopher  enough  to  be  contented  with 
his  venture,  and  set  off  the  same  evening  for  the 
Continent.     He  was  never  heard  of  again." 

Another  fraud  that  was  very  successful  was  that 


of  the  "  Globe  Permits,"  as  they  were  called.  They 
were  nothing  more  than  square  pieces  of  playing 
cards,  on  which  was  the  impression  of  a  seal,  in 
wax,  bearing  the  sign  of  the  "  Globe  Tavern,"  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Exchange  Alley,  with  the 
inscription  of  "  Sail-cloth  Permits."  The  possessors 
enjoyed  no  other  advantage  from  them  than  per- 
mission to  subscribe  at  some  future  time  to  a  new 
sail-cloth  manufactory,  projected  by  one  who  was 
then  known  to  be  a  man  of  fortune,  but  who  was 
afterwards  involved  in  the  peculation  and  punish- 
ment of  the  South  Sea  directors.  These  permits 
sold  for  as  much  as  sixty  guineas  in  the  Alley. 

During  the  infatuation  (says  Smollett),  luxury, 
vice,  and  profligacy  increased  to  a  shocking  degree  • 
the  adventurers,  intoxicated  by  their  imaginar}^ 
wealth,  pampered  themselves  with  the  rarest  dainties 
and  the  most  costly  wines.  They  purchased  the 
most  sumptuous  furniture,  equipage,  and  apparel, 
though  with  no  taste  or  discernment.  Their 
criminal  passions  were  indulged  to  a  scandalous 
excess,  and  their  discourse  evinced  the  most  dis- 
gusting pride,  insolence,  and  ostentation.  They 
affected  to  scoff  at  religion  and  morality,  and  even 
to  set  Heaven  at  defiance. . 

A  journalist  of  the  time  writes  :  "  Our  South 
Sea  equipages  increase  daily ;  the  City  ladies  buy 
South  Sea  jewels,  hire  South  Sea  maids,  take  new 
country  South  Sea  houses  ;  the  gentlemen  set  up 
South  Sea  coaches,  and  buy  South  Sea  estates. 
They  neither  examine  the  situation,  the  nature  or 
quality  of  the  soil,  or  price  of  the  purchase,  only  the 
annual  rent  and  title ;  for  the  rest,  they  take  all  by 
the  lump,  and  pay  forty  or  fifty  years'  purchase  !" 

By  the  end  of  May,  the  whole  stock  had  risen 
to  550.  It  then,  in  four  days,  made  a  tremendous 
leap,  and  rose  to  890.  It  was  now  thought  im- 
possible that  it  could  rise  higher,  and  many  prudent 
persons  sold  out  to  make  sure  of  their  spoil. 
Many  of  these  were  noblemen  about  to  accompany 
the  king  to  Hanover.  The  buyers  were  so  few  on 
June  3rd,  that  stock  fell  at  once,  like  a  plummet, 
from  890  to  640.  The  directors  ordering  their 
agents  to  still  buy,  confidence  was  restored,  and 
the  stock  rose  to  750.  By  August,  the  stock  cul- 
minated at  1,000  per  cent,  or,  as  Dr.  Mackay 
observes,  *'  the  bubble  was  then  full  blown." 

The  reaction  soon  commenced.  Many  govern- 
ment annuitants  complained  of  the  directors'  par- 
tiality in  making  out  the  subscription  lists.  It  was 
soon  reported  that  Sir  John  Blunt,  the  chairman, 
and  several  directors  had  sold  out.  The  stock  fell 
all  through  August,  and  on  September  2nd  was 
quoted  at  700  only.  Things  grew  alarming.  The 
directors,  to  restore  coijfi,d?pjce,  summoned  a  meet- 


54° 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Threadneedle  Street. 


ing  of  the  corporation  at  Merchant  Taylors'  Hall. 
Cheapside  was  blocked  by  the  crowd.  Mr.  Secre- 
tary Craggs  urged  the  necessity  of  union ;  and  Mr. 
Hungerford  said  the  Company  had  done  more 
for  the  nation  than  Crown,  pulpit,  and  bench. 
It  had  enriched  the  whole  nation.  The  Duke 
of  Portland  gravely  expressed  his  wonder  that  any 
one  could  be  dissatisfied.  But  the  public  were  not 
to  be  gulled ;  that  same  evening  the  stock  fell  to 
640,  and  the  next  day  to  540.  It  soon  got  so 
low  as  400.  The  ebb  tide  was  running  fast. 
"  Thousands  of  families,"  wrote  Mr.  Broderick  to 


Craggs'  face,  said  "  there  were  other  men  in  high 
station  who  were  no  less  guilty  than  the  directors," 
Mr.  Craggs,  rising  in  >vrath,  declared  he  was  ready 
to  give  satisfaction  to  any  one  in  the  House,  or 
out  of  it,  and  this  unparliamentary  language  he 
had  afterwards  to  explain  away.  Ultimately  a 
second  committee  was  appointed,  with  power  to 
send  for  persons,  papers,  and  records.  The  direc- 
tors were  ordered  to  lay  before  the  house  a  full 
account  of  all  their  proceedings,  and  were  for- 
bidden to  leave  the  kingdom  for  a  twelvemonth. 
Mr.  Walpole  laid  before   a  committee  of  the 


THE   OLD   SOUTH   SEA    HOUSE  {see  page  538).      From  a  Print  of  the  Period. 


Lord  Chancellor  Middleton,  "will  be  reduced  to 
beggary.  The  consternation  is  inexpressible,  the 
rage  beyond  description."  The  Bank  was  pressed 
to  circulate  the  South  Sea  bonds,  but  as  the  panic 
increased  they  fought  off.  Several  goldsmiths  and 
bankers  fled.  The  Sword  Blade  Company,  the 
chief  cashiers  of  the  South  Sea  Company,  stopped 
payment.  King  George  returned  in  haste  from 
Hanover,  and  Parliament  was  summoned  to  meet 
in  December. 

In  the  first  debate  the  enemies  of  the  South  Sea 
Company  were  most  violent.  Lord  Molesworth 
said  he  should  be  satisfied  to  see  the  contrivers  of 
the  scheme  tied  in  sacks  and  thrown  into  the 
Thames.  Honest  Shippen,  whom  even  Walpole 
could  not  bribe,  looking  fiercely  in  Mr.  Secretary 


whole  house  his  scheme  for  the  restoration  of 
public  credit,  which  was,  in  substance,  to  ingraft 
nine  millions  of  South  Sea  stock  into  the  Bank  of 
England,  and  the  same  sum  into  the  East  India 
Company,  upon  certain  conditions.  The  plan  was 
favourably  received  by  the  House.  After  some  few 
objections  it  was  ordered  that  proposals  should  be 
received  from  the  two  great  corporations.  They 
were  both  unwilling  to  lend  their  aid,  and  the 
plan  met  with  a  warm  but  fruitless  opposition  at 
the  general  courts  summoned  for  the  purpose  of 
deliberating  upon  it.  They,  however,  ultimately 
agreed  upon  the  terms  on  which  they  would  consent 
to  circulate  the  South  Sea  bonds ;  and  their  report 
being  presented  to  the  committee,  a  bill  was  then 
brought   in,    under    the    superintendence   of  Mr. 


Threadneedle  Street] 


THE   BURSTING   OF  THE  BUBBLE. 


541 


Walpole,  and  safely  carried  through  both  Houses 
of  Parliament. 

In  the  House  of  Lords,  Lord  Stanhope  said  that 
every  farthing  possessed  by  the  criminals,  whether 
directors  or  not,  ought  to  be  confiscated,  to  make 
good  the  public  losses. 

The  wrath  of  the  House  of  Commons  soon  fell 
quick  and  terrible  as  lightning  on  two  members  of 
the  Ministry,  Craggs,  and  Mr.  Aislabie,  Chancellor 
of  the  Exchequer.  It  was  ordered,  on  the  21st  of 
Januar}',  that  all   South  Sea  brokers  should  lay 


the  Commons  ordered  the  doors  of  the  House  to 
be  locked,  and  the  keys  laid  on  the  table. 

General  Ross,  one  of  the  members  of  the  Select 
Committee,  then  informed  the  House  that  there 
had  been  already  discovered  a  plot  of  the  deepest 
villany  and  fraud  that  Hell  had  ever  contrived 
to  ruin  a  nation.  Four  directors,  members  of  the 
House — i.e.,  Sir  Robert  Chaplin,  Sir  Theodore 
Janssen,  Mr.  Sawbridge,  and  Mr.  F.  Eyles — were 
expelled  the  House,  and  taken  into  the  custody  of 
the  Serjeant-at-Arms.      Sir    John   Blunt,   another 


LONDON  STONE.      {See page  s^^^.) 


before  the  House  a  full  account  of  all  stock  bought 
or  sold  by  them  to  any  officers  of  the  Treasury  or 
Exchequer  since  Michaelmas,  1 7 1 9.  Aislabie  in- 
stantly resigned  his  office,  and  absented  himself 
from  Parliament,  and  five  of  the  South  Sea  direc- 
tors (including  Mr.  Gibbon,  the  grandfather  of  the 
historian)  were  ordered  into  the  custody  of  the 
Black  Rod. 

The  next  excitement  was  the  flight  of  Knight, 

the  treasurer  of  the  Company,  with  all  his  books 

and  implicating  documents,  and  a  reward  of  ;^2,ooo 

was  offered  for  his  apprehension.     The  same  night 

46 


director,  was  also  taken  into  custody.  This  man, 
mentioned  by  Pope  in  his  "  Epistle  to  Lord 
Bathurst,"  had  been  a  scrivener,  famed  for  his 
religious  observances  and  his  horror  of  avarice. 
He  was  examined  at  the  bar  of  the  House  of  Lords, 
but  refused  to  criminate  himself  The  Duke  of 
Wharton,  vexed  at  this  prudent  silence  of  the 
criminal,  accused  Earl  Stanhope  of  encouraging  this 
taciturnity  of  the  witness.  The  Earl  became  so 
excited  in  his  return  speech,  that  it  brought  on  an 
apoplectic  fit,  of  which  he  died  the  next  day,  to 
the  great  grief  of  his  royal  master,  George  I.     The 


542 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Threadneedle  Street. 


Committee  of  Secrecy  stated  that  in  some  of  the 
books  produced  before  them,  false  and  fictitious 
entries  had  been  made ;  in  others  there  were 
entries  of  money,  with  blanks  for  the  names  of  the 
stockholders.  There  were  frequent  erasures  and 
alterations,  and  in  some  of  the  books  leaves  had 
been  torn  out.  They  also  found  that  some  books 
of  great  importance  had  been  destroyed  altogether, 
and  that  some  had  been  taken  away  or  secreted. 
They  discovered,  moreover,  that  before  the  South 
Sea  Act  was  passed  there  was  an  entry  in  the 
Company's  books  of  the  sum  of  ;^i, 259,325  upon 
account  of  stock  stated  to  have  been  sold  to  the 
amount  of  ;!^5  74,500.  This  stock  was  all  fictitious, 
and  had  been  disposed  of  with  a  view  to  promote 
the  passing  of  the  bill.  It  was  noted  as  sold  on 
various  days,  and  at  various  prices,  from  150  to 
325  per  cent. 

Being  surprised  to  see  so  large  an  amount 
disposed  of,  at  a  time  when  the  Company  were 
not  empowered  to  increase  their  capital,  the  com- 
mittee determined  to  investigate  most  carefully 
the  whole  transaction.  The  governor,  sub-governor, 
and  several  directors  were  brought  before  them  and 
examined  rigidly.  They  found  that  at  the  time 
these  entries  were  made  the  Company  were  not  in 
possession  of  such  a  quantity  of  stock,  having  in 
their  own  right  only  a  small  quantity,  not  exceeding 
;i^3o,ooo  at  the  utmost.  They  further  discovered 
that  this  amount  of  stock  was  to  be  esteemed  as 
taken  or  holden  by  the  Company  for  the  benefit 
of  the  pretended  purchasers,  although  no  mutual 
agreement  was  made  for  its  delivery  or  acceptance 
at  any  certain  time.  No  money  was  paid  down, 
nor  any  deposit  or  security  whatever  given  to  the 
Company  by  the  supposed  purchasers ;  so  that  if 
the  stock  had  fallen,  as  might  have  been  expected 
had  the  act  not  passed,  they  would  have  sustained 
no  loss.  If,  on  the  contrary,  the  price  of  stock 
advanced  (as  it  actually  did  by  the  success  of  the 
scheme),  the  difference  by  the  advanced  price  was 
to  be  made  good  by  them.  Accordingly,  after  the 
passing  of  the  act,  the  account  of  stock  was  made 
up  and  adjusted  with  Mr.  Knight,  and  the  pre- 
tended purchasers  were  paid  the  difference  out  of 
the  Company's  cash.  This  fictitious  stock,  which 
had  chiefly  been  at  the  disposal  of  Sir  John  Blunt, 
Mr.  Gibbon,  and  Mr.  Knight,  was  distributed 
among  several  members  of  the  Government  and 
their  connections,  by  way  of  bribe,  to  facilitate  the 
passing  of  the  bill.  To  the  Earl  of  Sunderland  was 
assigned  ;^5o,ooo  of  this  stock;  to  the  Duchess 
of  Kendal,  ;^  10,000;  to  the  Countess  of  Platen, 
;^io,ooo;  to  her  two  nieces,  ;^io,ooo;  to  Mr. 
Secretary  Craggs,  ^^3  0,000 ;  to  Mr.  Charies  Stan- 


hope (one  of  the  Secretaries  of  the  Treasury), 
;;^io,ooo ;  to  the  Sword  Blade  Company,  ^^50,000. 
It  also  appeared  that  Mr.  Stanhope  had  received 
the  enormous  sum  of  ;^2 50,000,  as  the  difference 
in  the  price  of  some  stock,  through  the  hands  of 
Turner,  Caswall,  and  Co.,  but  that  his  name  had 
been  partly  erased  from  their  books,  and  altered  to 
Stangape. 

The  punishment  fell  heavy  on  the  chief  offenders, 
who,  after-  all,  had  only  shared  in  the  general  lust 
for  gold.  Mr.  Charles  Stanhope,  a  great  gainer, 
managed  to  escape  by  the  influence  of  the  Chester- 
field family,  and  the  mob  threatened  vengeance. 
Aislabie,  who  had  made  some  ;^8oo,ooo,  was  ex- 
pelled the  House,  sent  to  the  Tower,  and  compelled 
to  devote  his  estate  to  the  relief  of  the  sufferers. 
Sir  George  Caswall  was  expelled  the  House,  and 
ordered  to  refund  ;^25o,ooo.  The  day  he  went  to 
the  Tower,  the  mob  lit  bonfires  and  danced  round 
them  for  joy.  When  by  a  general  whip  of  the  Whigs 
the  Earl  of  Sunderland  was  acquitted,  the  mob 
grew  menacing  again.  That  same  day  the  elder 
Craggs  died  of  apoplexy.  The  report  was  that  he 
had  poisoned  himself,  but  excitement  and  the  death 
of  a  son,  one  of  the  secretaries  of  the  Treasury,  were 
the  real  causes.  His  enormous  fortune  of  a  million 
and  a  half  was  scattered  among  the  sufferers. 
Eventually  the  directors  were  fined  ;^:2, 014,000, 
each  man  being  allowed  a  small  modicum  of  his 
fortune.  Sir  John  Blunt  was  only  allowed  ;^5,ooo 
out  of  his  fortune  of  ^183,000  ;  Sir  John  Fellows 
was  allowed  ;^io,ooo  out  of  ;!^243,ooo ;  Sir  Theo- 
dore Janssen,  ;;^5 0,000  out  of  ;!^ 243,000 ;  Sir  John 
Lambert,  ;i^5,ooo  out  of  ^,^7  2,000.  One  director, 
named  Gregsley,  was  treated  with  especial  severity, 
because  he  was  reported  to  have  once  declared  he 
would  feed  his  carriage -horses  off  gold;  another, 
because  years  before  he  had  been  mixed  up  with 
some  harmless  but  unsuccessful  speculation.  Ac- 
cording to  Gibbon  tlie  historian,  it  was  the  Tory 
directors  who  were  stripr.ed  the  most  unmerci- 
fully. 

"  The  next  consideration  of  the  Legislature,"  says 
Charles  Mackay,  "after  the  punishment  of  the 
directors,  was  to  restore  public  credit.  The  scheme 
of  Walpole  had  been  found  insufficient,  and  had 
fallen  into  disrepute.  A  computation  was  made  of 
the  whole  capital  stock  of  the  South  Sea  Company 
at  the  end  of  the  year  1720.  It  was  found  to 
amount  to  ,-^37,800,000,  of  which  the  stock  allotted 
to  all  the  proprietors  only  reached  ^^24,500,000. 
The  remainder  of  ;^i3, 300,000  belonged  to  the 
Company  in  their  corporate  capacity,  and  was  the 
profit  they  had  made  by  the  national  delusion. 
Upwards  of  ;^8,ooo,ooo  of  this  was   taken  from 


Threadneedle  Street.] 


ANECDOTES  OF  THE   BUBBLE. 


543 


the  Company,  and  divided  among  the  proprietors 
and  subscribers  generally,  making  a  dividend  of 
about  j£^^  6s.  8d.  per  cent.  This  was  a  great 
relief.  It  was  further  ordered  that  such  persons  as 
had  borrowed  money  from  the  South  Sea  Company 
upon  stock  actually  transferred  and  pledged,  at  the 
time  of  borrowing,  to  or  for  the  use  of  the  Com- 
pany, should  be  free  from  all  demands  upon  pay- 
ment of  ten  per  cent,  of  the  sums  so  borrowed. 
They  had  lent  about  ;j£"i  1,000,000  in  this  manner, 
at  a  time  when  prices  were  unnaturally  raised ;  and 
they  now  received  back  ;^i,  100,000,  when  prices 
had  sunk  to  their  ordinary  level." 

A  volume  (says  another  writer)  might  be  collected 
of  anecdotes  connected  with  this  fatal  speculation. 
A  tradesman  at  Bath,  who  had  invested  his  only 
remaining  fortune  in  this  stock,  finding  it  had 
fallen  from  1,000  to  900,  left  Bath  with  an  inten- 
tion to  sell  out ;  on  his  arrival  in  London  it  had 
fallen  to  250.  He  thought  the  price  too  low, 
sanguinely  hoped  that  it  would  re-ascend,  still  de- 
ferred his  purpose,  and  lost  his  all. 

The  Duke  of  Chandos  had  embarked  ;^3oo,ooo 
in  this  project ;  the  Duke  of  Newcastle  strongly 
advised  his  selling  the  whole,  or  at  least  a  part, 
with  as  little  delay  as  possible;  but  this  salutary 
advice  he  delayed  to  take,  confidently  anticipating 
the  gain  of  at  least  half  a  million,  and  through  re- 
jecting his  friend's  counsel,  he  lost  the  whole.  Some 
were,  however,  more  fortunate.  The  guardians  of 
Sir  Gregory  Page  Turner,  then  a  minor,  had  pur- 
chased stock  for  him  very  low,  and  sold  it  out 
when  it  had  reached  its  maximum,  to  the  amount 
of  ;^2 00,000.  With  this  large  sum  Sir  Gregory 
built  a  fine  mansion  at  Blackheath,  and  pur- 
chased 300  acres  of  land  for  a  park.  Two  maiden 
sisters,  whose  stock  had  accumulated  to  ;!^9o,ooo, 
sold  out  when  the  South  Sea  stock  was  at  790. 
The  broker  whom  they  employed  advised  them 
to  re-invest  in  navy  bills,  which  were  at  the  time  at 
a  discount  of  twenty-five  per  cent.';  they  took  his 
advice,  and  two  years  afterwards  received  their 
money  at  par. 

Even  the  poets  did  not  escape.  Gay  (says  Dr. 
Johnson,  in  his  "  Lives  of  the  Poets ")  had  a 
present  from  young  Craggs  of  some  Soutli  Sea 
stock,  and  once  supposed  himself  to  be  the  master 
of  ;;^2 0,000.  His  friends,  especially  Arbuthnot, 
persuaded  him  to  sell  his  share,  but  he  dreamed  of 
dignity  and  splendour,  and  could  not  bear  to  ob- 
struct his  own  fortune.  He  was  then  importuned 
to  sell  as  much  as  would  purchase  a  hundred  a 
year  for  Hfe,  "which,"'  said  Fenton,  "will  make 
you  sure  of  a  clean  shirt  and  a  shoulder  of  mutton 
every  day."     This  counsel  was  rejected  ;  the  profit 


and  principal  were  both  lost,  and  Gay  sunk  so  low 
under  the  calamity  that  his  life  for  a  time  became 
in  danger. 

Pope,  always  eager  for  money,  was  also  dabbling 
in  the  scheme,  but  it  is  uncertain  whether  he  made 
money  or  lost  by  it.  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montague 
was  a  loser.  When  Sir  Isaac  Newton  was  asked 
when  the  bubble  would  break,  he  said,  with  all  his 
calculations  he  had  never  learned  to  calculate  the 
madness  of  the  people. 

Prior  declared,  "I  am  lost  in  the  South  Sea. 
The  roaring  of  the  waves  and  the  madness  of  the 
people  are  justly  put  together.  It  is  all  wilder 
than  St.  Anthony's  dream,  and  the  bagatelle  is 
more  solid  than  anything  that  has  been  endea- 
voured here  this  year." 

In  the  full  heat  of  it,  the  Duchess  of  Ormond 
wrote  to  Swift :  "  The  king  adopts  the  South  Sea, 
and  calls  it  his  beloved  child ;  though  perhaps, 
you  may  say,  if  he  loves  it  no  better  than  his  son, 
it  may  not  be  saying  much ;  but  he  loves  it  as 
much  as  he  loves  the  Duchess  of  Kendal,  and 
that  is  saying  a  good  deal.  I  wish  it  may  thrive, 
for  some  of  my  friends  are  deep  in  it.  I  wish 
you  were  too." 

Swift,  cold  and  stern,  escaped  the  madness,  and 
even  denounced  in  the  following  verses  the  insanity 
that  had  seized  the  times  : — 

' '  There  is  a  gulf  where  thousands  fell, 
Here  all  the  bold  adventurers  came ; 
A  narrow  sound,  though  deep  as  hell — 
Change  Alley  is  the  dreadful  name, 

"  Subscribers  here  by  thousands  float, 
And  jostle  one  another  down  ; 
Each  paddling  in  his  leaky  boat, 
And  here  they  fish  for  gold  and  drown. 

"  Now  buried  in  the  depths  below, 
Now  mounted  up  to  heaven  again, 
They  reel  and  stagger  to  and  fro, 

At  their  wit's  end,  like  drunken  men." 

Budgell,  Pope's  barking  enemy,  destroyed  him- 
self after  his  losses  in  this  South  Sea  scheme,  and  a 
well-known  man  of  the  day  called  "  Tom  of  Ten 
Thousand  "  lost  his  reason. 

Charles  Lamb,  in  his  "  Elia,"  has  described  the 
South  Sea  House  in  his  own  delightful  way. 
"  Reader,"  says  the  poet  clerk,  "  in  thy  passage 
from  the  Bank — where  thou  hast  been  receiving 
thy  half-yearly  dividends  (supposing  thou  art  a 
lean  annuitant  like  myself) — to  tlie  '  Flower  Pot,' 
to  secure  a  place  for  Dalston,  or  Shacklewell,  or 
some  other  shy  surburban  retreat  northerly — didst 
thou  never  observe  a  melancholy-looking,  hand- 
some brick  and  stone  edifice,  to  the  left,  where 
Threadneedle  Street  abuts  upon  Bishopsgate  ?    I 


544 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Cannon  Street. 


dare  say  thou  liast  often  admired  its  magnificent 
portals,  ever  gaping  wide,  and  disclosing  to  view 
a  grave  court,  with  cloisters  and  pillars,  with  few 
or  no  traces  of  goers-in  or  comers-out — a  desolation 
something  like  Balclutha's.*  This  was  once  a 
house  of  trade — a  centre  of  busy  interests.  The 
throng  of  merchants  was  here — the  quick  pulse  of 
gain — and  here  some  forms  of  business  are  still 
kept  up,  though  the  soul  has  long  since  fled.  Here 
are  still  to  be  seen  stately  porticoes ;  imposing  stair- 
cases; offices  roomy  as  the  state  apartments  in 
palaces — deserted,  or  thinly  peopled  with  a  few 
straggling  clerks  ;  the  still  more  sacred  interiors  of 
court  and  committee  rooms,  with  venerable  faces 
of  beadles,  door-keepers ;  directors  seated  in  form 
on  solemn  days  (to  proclaim  a  dead  dividend),  at 
long  womi-eaten  tables,  that  have  been  mahogany, 
with  tarnished  gilt-leather  coverings,  supporting 
massy  silver  inkstands,  long  since  dry ;  the  oaken 
wainscots  hung  with  pictures  of  deceased  governors 
and  sub-governors,  of  Queen  Anne,  and  the  two  first 
monarchs  of  the  Brunswick  dynasty;  huge  charts, 
which  subsequent  discoveries  have  antiquated ; 
dusty  maps  of  Mexico,  dim  as  dreams  ;  and  sound- 
ings of  the  Bay  of  Panama !    The  long  passages 


hung  with  buckets,  appended,  in  idle  row  to  walls, 
whose  substance  might  defy  any,  short  of  the  last 
conflagration  ;  with  vast  ranges  of  cellarage  under 
all,  where  dollars  and  pieces-of-eight  once  lay,  '  an 
unsunned  heap,'  for  Mammon  to  have  solaced  his 
solitary  heart  withal  —  long  since  dissipated,  or 
scattered  into  air  at  the  blast  of  the  breaking  of 
that  famous  Bubble. 

"  Peace  to  the  manes  of  the  Bubble !  Silence 
and  destitution  are  upon  thy  walls,  proud  house, 
for  a  memorial !  Situated  as  thou  art  in  the  very 
heart  of  stirring  and  living  commerce,  amid  the 
fret  and  fever  of  speculation — with  the  Bank,  and 
the  'Change,  and  the  India  House  about  thee,  in 
the  hey-day  of  present  prosperity,  with  their  im- 
portant faces,  as  it  were,  insulting  thee,  their  poor 
neighbour  out  of  business — to  the  idle  and  merely 
contemplative — to  such  as  me,  Old  House !  there  is 
a  chann  in  thy  quiet,  a  cessation,  a  coolness  from 
business,  an  indolence  almost  cloistral,  which  is 
delightful !  With  what  reverence  have  I  paced  thy 
great  bare  rooms  and  courts  at  eventide !  'J'hey 
spake  of  the  past ;  the  shade  of  some  dead  ac- 
countant, with  visionary  pen  in  ear,  would  flit  by 
me,  stiff  as  in  life." 


CHAPTER  XLVHL 

CANNON      STREET 

London  Stone  and  Jack]  Cade  -  South wark  Bridgi;— Old  City  Churches— Tlie  Salters*  Company's  Hall,  and  the  Salters'  Company's  History- 
Oxford  House— Baiters'  Banquets— Salters'  Hall  Chapel— A  Mysterious  Murder  in  Cannon  Street— St.  Martin  Orgar— King  William's 
Statue — Cannon  Street  Station. 


Cannon  Street  was  originally  called  Candlewick 
Street,  from  the  candle -makers  who  lived  there. 
It  afterwards  became  a  resort  of  drapers. 

London  Stone,  the  old  Roman  milliarium,  or 
milestone,  is  now  a  mere  rounded  boulder,  set  in 
a  stone  case  built  into  the  outer  southern  wall  of 
the  church  of  St.  Swithin,  Cannon  Street.  Camden, 
in  his  "  Britannia,"  says — "  The  stone  called  Lon- 
don Stone,  from  its  situation  in  the  centre  of  the 
longest  diameter  of  the  City,  I  take  to  have  been 
a  miliary,  like  that  in  the  Forum  at  Rome,  from 
whence  all  the  distances  were  measured." 

Camden's  opinion,  that  from  this  stone  the 
Roman  roads  radiated,  and  that  by  it  the  distances 
were  reckoned,  seems  now  generally  received. 
Stow,  who  thinks  that  there  was  some  legend  of 
the  early  Christians  connected  with  it,  says  : — "  On 
the  south  side  of  this  high  street  (Candlewick  or 

*  "  I  passed  by  the  walls  of  Balclutlia,  and  they  were 
desolate."    (Ossian, ) 


Cannon  Street),  near  unto  the  channel,  is  pitched 
upright  a  great  stone,  called  London  Stone,  fixed 
in  the  ground  very  deep,  fastened  with  bars  of  iron, 
and  otherwise  so  strongly  set,  that  if  carts  do  run 
against  it  through  negligence,  the  wheels  be  broken 
and  the  stone  itself  unshaken.  The  cause  why  this 
stone  was  set  there,  the  time  when,  or  other  memory 
is  none." 

Strype  describes  it  in  his  day  as  already  set  in  its 
case.  "  This  stone,  before  the  Fire  of  London,  was 
much  worn  away,  and,  as  it  were,  but  a  stump 
remaining.  But  it  is  now,  for  the  preservation  of 
it,  cased  over  with  a  new  stone,  handsomely  wrought, 
cut  hollow  underneath,  so  as  the  old  stone  may  be 
seen,  the  new  one  being  over  it,  to  shelter  and 
defend  the  old  venerable  one." 

It  stood  formerly  on  the  south  side  of  Cannon 
Street,  but  was  removed  to  the  north,  December 
13th,  1 742.  In  1 798  it  was  again  removed,  as  an  ob- 
struction, and,  but  for  the  praiseworthy  interposition 


Cannon  Street.] 


SOtJTHWARK  BRIDGE. 


545 


of  a  local  antiquary,  Mr.  Thomas  Maiden,  a  printer 
in  Sherborne  Lane,  it  would  have  been  destroyed. 

This  most  interesting  relic  of  Roman  London  is 
that  very  stone  which  the  arch -rebel  Jack  Cade 
struck  with  his  bloody  sword  when  he  had  stormed 
London  Bridge,  and  "  Now  is  Mortimer  lord  of  this 
city  "  were  the  words  he  uttered  too  confidently  as 
he  gave  the  blow.  Shakespeare,  who  perhaps  wrote 
from  tradition,  makes  him  strike  London  Stone 
with  his  staff : — 

"  Cade.  Now  is  Mortimer  lord  of  this  city.  And  here, 
sitting  upon  London  Stone,  I  charge  and  command  that  the 
conduit  run  nothing  but  claret  wine  this  first  year  of  our  reign. 
And  now  henceforward  it  shall  be  treason  for  any  that  calls 
me  Lord  Mortimer." — Shakespeare,  Second  Part  of  Henry  VI., 
act  iv.,  sc.  6. 

Dryden,  too,  mentions  this  stone  in  a  very  fine 
passage  of  his  Fable  of  the  "  Cock  and  the  Fox  :" — 
"  The  bees  in  arms 
Drive  headlong  from  the  waxen  cells  in  swarms. 
Jack  Straw  at  London  Stone,  with  all  his  rout, 
Struck  not  the  city  with  so  loud  a  shout." 

Of  the  old  denizens  of  this  neighbourhood  in 
Henry  VIII.  s  days,  Stow  gives  a  very  .picturesqu e 
sketch  in  the  following  passage,  where  he  says  : — 
"  The  late  Earl  of  Oxford,  father  to  him  that  now 
liveth,  hath  been  noted  within  these  forty  years  to 
have  ridden  into  this  city,  and  so  to  his  house  by 
London  Stone,  with  eighty  gentlemen  in  a  livery  of 
Reading  tawny,  and  chains  of  gold  about  their 
necks,  before  him,  and  one  hundred  tall  yeomen  in 
the  like  livery  to  follow  him,  without  chains,  but  lall 
having  his  cognizance  of  the  blue  boar  embroidered 
on  their  left  shoulder." 

A  turning  from  Cannon  Street  leads  us  to 
Soutliwark  Bridge.  The  cost  of  this  bridge  was 
computed  at  ^300,000,  and  the  annual  revenue 
was  estimated  at;^9o,ooo.  Blackfriars  Bridge  tolls 
amounted  to  a  large  annual  sum  ;  and  it  was 
supposed  Soutliwark  might  fairly  claim  about  a 
third  of  it.  Great  stress  also  was  laid  on  the 
improvements  that  would  ensue  in  the  miserable 
streets  about  Bankside  and  along  the  road  to  the 
King's  Bench.  We  need  scarcely  remind  our 
readers  that  the  bridge  never  answered,  and  was 
almost  disused  till  the  tolls  were  removed  and  it 
was  thrown  open  to  general  trafiic. 

"Soutliwark  Bridge,"  says  Mr.  Timbs,  "designed 
by  John  Rennie,  F.R.S.,  was  built  by  a  public 
company,  and  cost  about  ;^8oo,ooo.  It  consists  of 
three  cast-iron  arches ;  the  centre  240  feet  span, 
and  the  two  side  arches  210  feet  each,  about  forty- 
two  feet  above  the  highest  spring-tides ;  the  ribs 
forming,  as  it  were,  a  series  of  hollow  masses,  or 
votissoirs,  similar  to  those  of  stone,  a  principle  new 
in  the  construction  of  cast-iron  bridges,  and  very 


successful.  The  whole  of  the  segmental  pieces  and 
the  braces  are  kept  in  their  places  by  dovetailed 
sockets  and  long  cast-iron  wedges,  so  that  bolts  are 
unnecessary,  although  they  were  used  during  the 
construction  of  the  bridge  to  keep  the  pieces  in 
their  places  until  the  wedges  had  been  driven.  The 
spandrels  are  similarly  connected,  and  upon  them 
rests  the  roadway,  of  solid  plates  of  cast  iron,  joined 
by  iron  cement.  The  piers  and  abutments  are  of 
stone,  founded  upon  timber  platforms  resting  upon 
piles  driven  below  the  bed  of  the  river.  The 
masonry  is  tied  throughout  by  vertical  and  hori- 
zontal bond-stones,  so  that  the  whole  rests  as  one 
mass  in  the  best  position  to  resist  the  horizontal 
thrust.  The  first  stone  was  laid  by  Admiral  Lord 
Keith,  May  23rd,  18 15,  the  bill  for  erecting  the 
bridge  having  been  passed  May  i6th,  181 1.  The 
iron-work  (weight  5,700  tons)  had  been  so  well  put 
together  by  the  Walkers  of  Rotherham,  the  founders, 
and  the  masonry  by  the  contractors,  Jolliffe  and 
Banks,  that,  when  the  work  was  finished,  scarcely 
any  sinking  was  discernible  in  the  arches.  From 
experiments  made  to  ascertain  the  expansion  and 
contraction  between  the  extreme  range  of  winter 
and  summer  temperature,  it  was  found  that  the  arch 
rose  in  the  summer  about  one  inch  to  one  and  a 
half  inch.  The  works  were  commenced  in  18 13, 
and  the  bridge  was  opened  by  lamp-light,  March 
24th,  1819,  as  the  clock  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral 
tolled  midnight.  Towards  the  middle  of  the  western 
side  of  the  bridge  used  to  be  a  descent  from  the 
pavement  to  a  steam-boat  pier." 

Mr.  Charles  Dickens,  in  one  of  the  chapters  of 
his  "  Uncommercial  Traveller,"  has  sketched,  in 
his  most  exquisite  manner,  just  such  old  City 
churches  as  we  have  in  Cannon  Street  and  its 
turnings.  The  dusty  oblivion  into  which  they 
are  sinking,  their  past  glory,  their  mouldy  old 
tombs — everything  he  paints  with  the  correctness 
of  Teniers  and  the  finish  of  Gerard  Dow. 

"  There  is,"  he  says,  "  a  pale  heap  of  books  in 
the  corner  of  my  pew,  and  while  the  organ,  which 
is  hoarse  and  sleepy,  plays  in  such  fashion  that  I 
can  hear  more  of  the  rusty  working  of  the  stops 
than  of  any  music,  I  look  at  the  books,  which  are 
mostly  bound  in  faded  baize  and  stuff.  They 
belonged,  in  1754,  to  the  Dowgate  family.  And 
who  were  they  ?  Jane  Comfort  must  have  married 
young  Dowgate,  and  come  into  the  family  that  way. 
Young  Dowgate  was  courting  Jane  Comfort  when 
he  gave  her  her  prayer-book,  and  recorded  the  pre- 
sentation in  the  fly-leaf.  If  Jane  were  fond  of 
young  Dowgate,  why  did  she  die  and  leave  the 
book  here?  Perhaps  at  the  rickety  altar,  and 
before  the  damp   Commandments,  she,  Comfort, 


546 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


tCannon  Street. 


had  taken  him,  Dowgate,  in  a  flush  of  youthful 
hope  and  joy ;  and  perhaps  it  had  not  turned  out 
in  the  long  run  as  great  a  success  as  was  expected. 
"  The  opening  of  the  service  recalls  my  wander- 
ing thoughts.  I  then  find  to  my  astonishment 
that  I  have  been,  and  still  am,  taking  a  strong  kind 


is  !  Not  only  in  the  cold,  damp  February  day,  do 
we  cough  and  sneeze  dead  citizens,  all  through  the 
service,  but  dead  citizens  have  got  into  the  very 
bellows  of  the  organ,  and  half-choked  the  same. 
We  stamp  our  feet  to  warm  them,  and  dead  citizens 
arise  in  heavy  clouds.     Dead  citizens  stick  upon 


THE  FOURTH  SALTERS'   HALL.      {See  page  548.) 


of  invisible  snuft"  up  my  nose,  into  my  eyes,  and 
down  my  throat.  I  wink,  sneeze,  and  cough. 
The  clerk  sneezes  :  the  clergyman  winks ;  the 
unseen  organist  sneezes  and  coughs  (and  probably 
winks) ;  all  our  little  party  wink,  sneeze,  and  cough. 
The  snuff  seems  to  be  made  of  the  decay  of  mat- 
ting, wood,  cloth,  stone,  iron,  earth,  and  something 
else.  Is  the  something  else  the  decay  of  dead 
citizens  in  the  vaults  below  ?      As  sure  as  death  it 


the  walls,  and  lie  pulverised  on  the  sounding-board 
over  the  clergyman's  head,  and  when  a  gust  of  air 
comes,  tumble  down  upon  him. 

***** 
"  In  the  churches  about  iSIark  Lane  there  was 
a  dry  whiff  of  wheat ;  and  I  accidentally  struck 
an  airy  sample  of  barley  out  of  an  aged  hassock 
in  one  of  them.  From  Rood  Lane  to  Tower 
Street,  and   thereabouts,   there   was   sometimes  a 


Cannon  Street] 


OLD   CITY  CHURCHES. 


547 


subtle  flavour  of  wine  ;  sometimes  of  tea.  One 
church,  near  Mincing  Lame,  smelt  like  a  druggist's 
drawer.  Behind  the  Monument,  the  service  had  a 
flavour  of  damaged  oranges,  which,  a  little  further 
down  the  river,  tempered  into  herrings,  and  gradually 
toned  into  a  cosmopolitan  blast  of  fish.     In  one 


on  my  memory  as  distinct  and  quaint  as  any  it  has 
that  way  received.  In  all  those  dusty  registers 
that  the  worms  are  eating,  there  is  not  a  line  but 
made  some  hearts  leap,  or  some  tears  flow,  in  their 
day.  Still  and  dry  now,  still  and  dry  !  And  the 
old   tree   at   the  window,  with   no   room   for   its 


CORDWAINERS'   HALL.      {Sec pa^'^e  $$0.) 


church,  the  exact  counterpart  of  the  church  in 
the  '  Rake's  Progress,'  where  the  hero  is  being 
married  to  the  horrible  old  lady,  there  was  no 
speciality  of  atmosphere,  until  the  organ  shook  a 
perfume  of  hides  all  over  us  from  some  adjacent 
warehouse. 

"  The  dark  vestries  and  registries  into  which  I 
have  peeped,  and  the  little  hemmed-in  churchyards 
that  have  echoed  to  my  feet,  have  left  impressions 


branches,  has  seen  them  all  out.  So  with  the 
tomb  of  the  old  master  of  the  old  company,  on 
which  it  drips.  His  son  restored  it  and  died,  his 
daughter  restored  it  and  died,  and  then  he  had 
been  remembered  long  enough,  and  the  tree  took 
possession  of  him,  and  his  name  cracked  out." 

The  Salters,  wlio  have  anchored  in  Cannon 
Street,  have  had  at  least  four  halls  before  the 
present  one.     The  first  was  in  Bread  Street,  to  be 


54^ 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDOM. 


[Ca 


Street. 


near  their  kinsmen,  the  Fishmongers,  in  the  old 
fish  market  of  London,  Knightrider  Street.  It  is 
noticed,  apparently,  as  a  new  building,  in  the  will 
of  Thomas  Beamond,  Salter,  145 1,  who  devised  to 
"  Henry  Bell  and  Robert  Bassett,  wardens  of  the 
fraternity  and  gild  of  the  Salters,  of  the  body  and 
blood  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  the  Church  of 
All  Saints,  of  Bread  Street,  London,  and  to  the 
brothers  and  sisters  of  the  same  fraternity  and  gild, 
and  their  successors  for  ever,  the  land  and  ground 
where  there  was  then  lately  erected  a  hall  called 
Salters'  Hall,  and  six  mansions  by  him  then  newly 
erected  upon  the  same  ground,  in  Bread  Street,  in 
the  parish  of  All  Saints."  The  last  named  were 
the  Company's  almshouses. 

This  hall  was  destroyed  by  fire  in  1533.  The 
second  hall,  in  Bread  Street,  had  an  almshouse 
adjoining,  as  Stow  tells  us,  "  for  poore  decayed 
brethren."  It  was  destroyed  by  fire  in  1598.  This 
hall  was  afterwards  used  by  Parliamentary  com- 
mittees. There  the  means  of  raising  new  regiments 
was,  discussed,  and  there,  in  1654,  the  judges  for 
a  time  sat.  The  third  hall  (and  these  records 
furnish  interesting  facts  to  the  London  topographer) 
was  a  mansion  of  the  prior  of  Tortington  (Sussex), 
near  the  east  end  of  St.  Swithin's  Church,  London 
Stone.  The  Salters  purchased  it,  in  1641,  of 
Captain  George  Smith,  and  it  was  then  called 
Oxford  House,  or  Oxford  Place.  It  had  been  the 
residence  of  Maister  Stapylton,  a  wealthy  alderman. 
The  house  is  a  marked  one  in  history,  as  at  the 
back  of  it,  according  to  Stow,  resided  those  bad 
guiding  ministers  of  the  miser  king  Henry  VII., 
Empson  and  Dudley,  who,  having  cut  a  door  into 
Oxford  House  garden,  used  to  meet  there,  like  the 
two  usurers  in  Quintin  Matsys'  picture,  and  suggest 
war  taxes  to  each  other  under  the  leafy  limes  of  the 
old  garden.  ,  Sir  Ambrose  Nicholas  and  Sir  John 
Hart,  both  Salters,  kept  their  mayoralties  here. 

The  fourth  hall,  built  after  the  Great  Fire  had 
made  clear  work  of  Oxford  House,  was  a  small 
brick  building,  the  entrance  opening  within  an 
arcade  of  three  arches  springing  from  square 
fluted  pillars.  A  large  garden  adjoined  it,  and 
next  that  was  the  Salters'  Hall  Meeting  House. 
The  parlour  was  handsome,  and  there  were  a  few 
original  portraits.  This  hall,  the  clerk's  house,  with 
another  at  the  gate  of  St.  Swithin's  Lane,  were  pulled 
down  and  sold  in  182 1.  The  present  hall  was  de- 
signed by  Mr.  Henry  Carr,  and  completed  in  1827. 

As  a  chartered  company  there  is  no  record  of 
the  Salters  before  the  37th  year  of  Edward  III., 
when  liberties  were  granted  them.  In  the  50th  of 
Edward  III.  they  sent  members  to  the  common 
council.     Riehard  II.  granted  them  a  livery,  but 


they  were  first  incorporated  in  1558  by  Elizabeth. 
Henry  VIII.  had  granted  them  arms,  and  Eliza- 
beth a  crest  and  supporters.  The  arms  are : — 
Chevron  azure  and  gules,  three  covered  salts,  or, 
springing  salt  proper.  On  a  helmet  and  torse, 
issuing  out  of  a  cloud  argent,  a  sinister  arm  proper, 
holding  a  salt  as  the  former.  Supporters,  two 
otters  argent  plattee,  gorged  with  ducal  coronets, 
thereto  a  chain  affixed  and  reflected,  or ;  motto, 
"  Sal  sapit  Omnia."  "  A  Short  Account  of  the 
Salters'  Company,"  printed  for  private  distribution, 
rejects  the  otters  as  supporters,  in  favour  of  ounces 
or  small  leopards,  which  latter,  it  states,  have  been 
adopted  by  the  assistants,  in  the  arms  put  up  in 
their  new  hall ;  and  it  gives  the  following,  "  fur- 
nished by  a  London  antiquary,"  as  the  Salters'  real 
supporters  : — Two  ounces  sable  besante,  gorged 
with  crowns  and  chased  gold.  The  Salters  claim 
to  have  received  eight  charters. 

The  Romans  worked  salt-pits  in  England,  and 
salt-works  are  frequently  mentioned  in  Domesday 
Book.  Rock  or  fossil  salt,  says  Herbert,  was 
never  worked  in  England  till  1670,  when  it  was 
discovered  in  Cheshire.  The  enormous  use  of  salt 
fish  m  the  Catholic  households  of  the  Middle  Ages 
brought  wealth  to  the  Salters. 

In  a  pageant  of  1591,  written  by  the  poet  Peele, 
one  clad  like  a  sea -nymph  presented  the  Salter 
mayor  (Webb)  with  a  rigged  and  manned  pinnace, 
as  he  took  barge  to  go  to  Westminster. 

In  the  Drapers'  pageant  of  1684,  when  each  of 
the  twelve  companies  were  represented  by  alle- 
gorical figures,  the  Salters  Avere  figured  by  Salina  in 
a  sky-coloured  robe  and  coronation  mantle,  and 
crowned  with  white  and  yellow  roses.  Among  the 
citizens  nominated  by  the  common  council  to 
attend  the  mayor  as  chief  butler,  at  the  coronation 
of  Richard  III.,  occurs  the  name  of  a  Salter. 

The  following  bill  of  fare  for  fifty  people  of  the 
Company  of  Salters,  a.d,  1506,  is  still  preserved  : — 


S. 

d. 

s. 

d. 

36  chickens     . 

4 

6 

4  breasts  of  veal 

I 

5 

I  swan  and  4  geese 

7 

0 

Bacon      . 

0 

6 

9  rabbits 

I 

4 

Quarter  of  a  load  of 

2  rumps  of  beef  tails 

0 

2 

coals    . 

0 

4 

6  quails  . 

I 

6 

Faggots  . 

0 

2 

2  ounces  of  pepper  . 

0 

2 

32    gallons  of   Gas- 

2    ounces   of  cloves 

coyne  wine  . 

2 

4 

and  mace     . 

0 

4 

I  bottle  niuscadina  . 

0 

S 

I.J  ounces  of  saffron 

0 

6 

Cherries  and  tarts    . 

0 

S 

3  lb.  sugar 

0 

8 

Salt 

0 

I 

2  lb.  raisins     . 

0 

4 

Verjuice     and     vine- 

I lb.  dates 

0 

4 

gar      . 

0 

2 

I  J-  lb.  comfits  . 

0 

'J 

Paid  the  cook . 

3 

4 

Half  hundred  eggs  . 

0 

2\ 

Perfume 

0 

2 

4  gallons  of  curds     . 

0 

4 

i^  bushels  of  meal  . 

0 

8 

I  ditto  gooseberries 

0 

2 

Water     . 

0 

3 

2  dishes  of  butter     . 

0 

4 

Garnishing  the  vessels 

0 

3 

Cannon  Street.] 


MYSTERIOUS   MURDER   IN   CANNON   STREET. 


549 


In  the  Company's  books  (says  Herbert)  is  a 
receipt  "For  to  make  a  moost  choyce  Paaste  of 
Gamys  to  be  eten  at  y*^  Feste  of  Chrystemasse " 
(17th  Richard  II.,  a.d.  1394).  A  pie  so  made 
by  the  Company's  cook  in  1836  was  found  ex- 
cellent. It  consisted  of  a  pheasant,  hare,  and 
capon;  two  partridges,  two  pigeons,  and  two 
rabbits ;  all  boned  and  put  into  paste  in  the  shape 
of  a  bird,  with  the  livers  and  hearts,  two  mutton 
kidneys,  forced  meats,  and  egg  balls,  seasoning, 
spice,  catsup,  and  pickled  mushrooms,  filled  up 
with  gravy  made  from  the  various  bones. 

The  original  congregation  of  Salters'  Hall  Chapel 
assembled  at  Buckingham  House,  College  Hill. 
The  first  minister  was  Richard  Mayo,  who  died  in 
1695.  He  was  so  eloquent,  that  it  is  said  even 
the  windows  were  crowded  when  he  preached. 
He  was  one  of  the  seceders  of  1662,  Nathaniel 
Taylor,  who  died  in  1702,  was  latterly  so  infirm 
that  he  used  to  crawl  into  the  pulpit  upon  his 
knees.  *'  He  was  a  man,"  says  Matthew  Henry, 
"  of  great  wit,  worth,  and  courage ;"  and  Dod- 
dridge compared  his  writings  to  those  of  South  for 
wit  and  strength.  Tong  succeeded  Taylor  at 
Salters'  Hall  in  1702.  He  wrote  the  notes  on  the 
Hebrews  and  Revelations  for  Mattbew  Henry's 
"Commentary,"  and  left  memoirs  of  Henry,  and 
of  Shower,  of  the  Old  Jewry.  The*  writer  of  his 
funeral  sermon  called  him  "the  prince  of  preachers." 
In  1 7 19  Arianism  began  to  prevail  at  Salters' 
Hall,  where  a  synod  on  the  subject  was  at  last 
held.  The  meetings  ended  by  the  non-subscribers 
calling  out,  "You  that  are  against  persecution 
come  up  stairs : "  and  Thomas  Bradbury,  of  New 
Court,  the  leader  of  the  orthodox,  replying,  "  You 
that  are  for  declaring  your  faith  in  the  doctrine 
of  the  Trinity  stay  below."  The  subscribers 
proved  to  be  fifty-three;  the  "scandalous  majority," 
fifty-seven.  During  this  controversy  Arianism 
became  the  subject  of  coffee-house  talk.  John 
Newman,  who  died  in  1741,  was  buried  at  Bunhill 
Fields,  Dr.  Doddridge  delivering  a  funeral  oration 
over  his  grave.  Francis  Spillsbury,  another  Salters' 
Hall  minister,  worked  there  for  twenty  years  with 
John  Barker,  who  resigned  in  1762.  Hugh  Farmer, 
another  of  this  brotherhood,  was  Doddridge's  first 
pupil  at  the  Northampton  College.  He  wrote  an 
exposition  on  demonology  and  miracles,  which 
aroused  controversy.  His  manuscripts  were  de- 
stroyed at  his  death,  according  to  the  strict  direc- 
tions of  his  will. 

When  the  Presbyterians  forsook  Salters'  Hall, 
some  people  came  there  who  called  the  hall  "  the 
Areopagus,"  and  themselves  the  Christian  Evidence 
Society.      After  their    bankruptcy    in    1827,    the 


Ba^Dtists  re-opened  the  hall.  The  congregation  has. 
now  removed  to  a  northern  suburb,  and  their 
chapel  bears  the  old  name,  "  so  closely  linked  with- 
our  old  City  history,  and  its  Nonconformist  asso- 
ciations." 

In  April,  1866,  a  mysterious  murder  took  place 
in  Cannon  Street.  The  victim,  a  widow,  named 
Sarah  Millson,  was  housekeeper  on  the  premises 
of  Messrs.  Bevington,  leather-sellers.  About  nine 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  sitting  by  the  fire 
in  company  with  another  servant,  the  street  bell 
was  heard  to  ring,  on  which  Millson  went  down 
to  the  door,  remarking  to  her  neighbour  that  she 
knew  who  it  was.  She  did  not  return,  although 
for  an  hour  this  did  not  excite  any  suspicion,  as 
she  was  in  the  habit  of  holding  conversations  at 
the  street  door.  A  little  after  ten  o'clock,  the 
other  woman — Elizabeth  Lowes — went  down,  and 
found  Millson  dead  at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs, 
the  blood  still  flowing  profusely  from  a  number 
of  deep  wounds  in  the  head.  Her  shoes  had  been 
taken  off"  and  were  lying  on  a  table  in  the  hall,  and 
as  there  was  no  blood  on  them  it  was  presumed 
this  was  done  before  the  murder.  The  house- 
keeper's keys  were  also  found  on  the  stairs. 
Opening  the  door  to  procure  assistance,  Lowes 
observed  a  woman  on  the  doorstep,  screening  her- 
self apparently  from  the  rain,  which  was  falling 
heavily  at  the  time.  She  moved  off"  as  soon  as  the 
door  was  opened,  saying,  in  answer  to  the  request 
for  assistance,  "Oh  !  deai",  no;  I  can't  come  in!" 
The  gas  over  the  door  had  been  lighted  as  usual 
at  eight  o'clock,  but  was  now  out,  although  not 
turned  off"  at  the  meter.  The  evidence  taken  by 
the  coroner  showed  that  the  instrument  of  murder 
had  probably  been  a  small  crowbar  used  to  wrench 
open  packing-cases ;  one  was  found  near  the  body, 
unstained  with  blood,  and  another  was  missing 
from  the  premises.  The  murderer  has  never  been 
discovered. 

St.  Martin  Orgar,  a  church  near  Cannon  Street, 
was  destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire,  and  not  rebuilt. 
It  had  been  used,  says  Strype,  by  the  French  Pro- 
testants, who  had  a  French  minister,  episcopally 
ordained.  There  was  a  monument  here  to  Sir 
Allen  Cotton,  Kniglit,  and  Alderman  of  London, 
some  time  Lord  Mayor,  with  this  epitaph — 

"  When  he  left  Earth  rich  bounty  dy'd, 
Mild  courtesie  gave  place  to  pride ; 
Soft  Mercie  to  bright  Justice  said, 
O  sister,  we  are  both  betray'd. 
White  Innocence  lay  on  the  gi-ound, 
Ijy  Truth,  and  wept  at  cither's  wound. 

"  Those  sons  of  Levi  did  lament, 
Their  lamps  went  out,  their  oyl  was  spent, 


550 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Cannon  Street  Tributaries. 


Heaven  hath  his  soul,  and  only  we 

Spin  out  our  lives  in  misery. 

So  Death  thou  missest  of  thy  ends, 
And  kil'st  not  him,  but  kil'st  his  friends." 

A  Bill  in  Parliament  being  engrossed  for  the 
erection  of  a  churcli  for  the  Frencli  Protestants  in 
the  churchyard  of  this  parish,  after  the  Great  Fire, 
the  parishioners  offered  reasons  to  the  Parliament 
against  it ;  declaring  that  they  were  not  against 
erecting  a  cliurch,  but  only  against  erecting  it  in  the 
place  mentioned  in  the  Bill ;  since  by  the  Act  for 
rebuilding  the  city,  the  site  and  churchyard  of  St. 
Martin  Orgar  was  directed  to  be  enclosed  with  a 
wall,  and  laid  open  for  a  burying-place  for  the 
parish. 

The  tame  statue  of  that  honest  but  commonplace 
monarch,  William  IV.,  at  the  end  of  King  William 
Street,  is  of  granite,  and  the  work  of  a  Mr.  Nixon. 
It  cost  upwards  of  ^^2,000,  of  which  ^1,600  was 
voted  by  the  Common  Council  of  London.  It  is 
fifteen  feet  three  inches  in  height,  weighs  twenty 


tons,  and  is  chiefly  memorable  as  marking  the  site 
of  the  famous  "  Boar's  Head  "  tavern. 

The  opening  of  the  Cannon  Street  Extension  Rail- 
way, September,  1866,  provided  a  communication 
with  Charing  Cross  and  London  Bridge,  and  through 
it  with  the  whole  of  the  South-Eastem  system.  The 
bridge  across  the  Thames  approaching  the  station 
has  five  lines  of  rails ;  the  curves  branching  east 
and  west  to  Charing  Gross  and  London  Bridge 
have  three  lines,  and  in  the  station  there  are  nine 
lines  of  rails  and  five  spacious  platforms,  one  of 
them  having  a  double  carriage  road  for  exit  and 
entrance.  The  signal-box  at  the  entrance  to  the 
Cannon  Street  station  extends  from  one  side  of 
the  bridge  to  the  other,  and  has  a  range  of  over 
eighty  levers,  coloured 'red  for  danger-signals,  and 
green  for  safety  and  going  out.  The  hotel  at 
Cannon  Street  Station,  a  handsome  building,  is 
after  the  design  by  Mr.  Barry.  Arrangements 
were  made  for  the  reception  of  about  20,000,000 
passengers  yearly. 


CHAPTER   XLIX. 
CANNON    STREET  TRIBUTARIES   AND   EASTCHEAP. 

Budge  Row— Cordwainers'  Hall— St.  Swithin's  Church— Founderi'  Hall — The  Olde<;t  Street  in  London— Tower  Royal  and  the  Wat  Tyler  Mob— 
The  Queen's  Wardrobe — St.  Antholin's  Church — "St.  Antlin's  Bell" — The  London  Fire  Brigade — Captain  Sliaw's  Statistics— .St.  Mary 
Aldermarj' — A  Quaint  Epitaph — Crooked  Lane — .\n  Early  "Gun  Accident" — St.  Michael's  and  Sir  William  Walworth's  Epitaph — (lerard's 
Hall  and  its  History— The  Early  Closing  Movement— St.  Mary  Woolchurch — Roman  Remains  in  Nicholas  Lane — St.  Stephen's,  Walbrook 
— Eastcheap  and  the  Codes'  Shops — The  "Bo-ir's  Head" — Prince  Hal  and  his  Companions — A  Giant  Plum  pudding — Goldsmith  at  the 
"  Boar's  Head" — The  Weigh-house  Chapel  and  its  Famous  Preachers— Reynolds,  Clayton,  Binney. 


Budge  Row  derived  its  name  from  the  sellers  of 
budge  (lamb-skin)  fur  that  dwelt  there.  The  word 
is  used  by  Milton  in  his  "  Lycidas,"  where  he 
sneers  at  the  "  budge-skin  '  doctors. 

Cordwainers'  Hall,  No.  7,  Cannon  Street,  is  the 
third  of  the  same  Company's  halls  on  this  site, 
and  was  built  in  1788  by  Sylvanus  Hall.  The 
stone  front,  by  Adam,  has  a  sculptured  medal- 
lion of  a  country  girl  spinning  with  a  distaft",  em- 
blematic of  the  name  of  the  lane,  and  of  the  thread 
used  by  cordwainers  or  shoemakers.  In  the  pedi- 
ment are  their  arms.  In  the  hall  are  portraits  of 
King  William  and  Queen  Mary;  and  here  is  a 
sepulchral  urn  and  tablet,  by  NoUekens,  to  John 
Came,  a  munificent  benefactor  to  the  Company. 

The  Cordwainers  were  originally  incorporated  by 
Henry  IV.,  in  1410,  as  the  "  Cordwainers  and 
Cobblers,"  the  latter  term  signifying  dealers  in 
shoes  and  shoemakers.  In  the  reign  of  Richard  II., 
"  every  cordv/ainer  that  shod  any  man  or  woman 
on  Sunday  was  to  pay  thirty  shilling.^."  Among  the 
Company's  plate  is  a  piece  for  which  Camden,  the 


antiquar)',  left  ^16.  Their  charities  include  Came's 
bequest  for  blind,  deaf,  and  dumb  persons,  and 
clergymen's  widows,  ;^i,ooo  yearly;  and  in  1662 
the  "  Bell  Inn,"  at  Edmonton,  was  bequeathed  for 
poor  freemen  of  the  Company. 

The  church  in  Cannon  Street  dedicated  to  St. 
Swithin,  and  in  which  London  Stone  is  now  en- 
cased, is  of  a  very  early  date,  as  the  name  of  the 
rector  in  1331  is  still  recorded.  Sir  John  Hind, 
Lord  Mayor  in  1391  and  1404,  rebuilt  both  church 
and  steeple.  After  the  Fire  of  London,  the  parish 
of  St.  Mary  Bothaw  was  united  to  that  of  St. 
Swithin.  St.  Swithin's  was  rebuilt  by  Wren  after 
the  Great  Fire.  The  Salters'  Company  formerly 
had  the  right  of  presentation  to  this  church,  but 
sold  it.  The  form  of  the  interior  is  irregular  and 
awkward,  in  consequence  of  the  tower  intruding  on 
the  north-west  corner.  The  ceiling,  an  octagonal 
cupola,  is  decorated  with  wreaths  and  ribbons.  In 
1839  Mr.  Godwin  describes  an  immense  sounding- 
board  over  the  pulpit,  and  an  altar-piece  of  carved 
oak,  guarded  by  two  wooden  figures  of  Moses  and 


Cannon  Street  Tributaries.] 


THE  TOWER  ROYAL. 


551 


Aaron.  There  is  a  slab  to  Mr.  Stephen  Winmill, 
twenty-four  years  parish  clerk ;  and  a  tablet  com- 
niGmorative  of  Mr.  Francis  Kemble  and  his  two 
wives,  with  the  following  distich  : — 

*•  Life  makes  the  soul  dependent  on  theTlust ; 
Death  gives  her  wings  to  mount  above  the  spheres." 

The  angles  at  the  top  of  the  mean  square  tower 
are  bevelled  off  to  allow  of  a  short  octagonal  spire 
and  an  octagonal  balustrade. 

The  following  epitaphs  are  quoted  by  Strype  : — 

John  Rogers,  died  1576. 
"  Like  thee  I  was  sometime. 

But  now  am  turned  to  dust ; 
As  thou  at  length,  O  earth  and  slime, 

Returne  to  ashes  must. 
Of  the  Company  of  Clothworkers 

A  brother  I  became  ; 
A  long  time  in  the  Livery 

I  lived  of  the  same. 
Then  Death  that  deadly  stroke  did  give. 

Which  now  my  joys  doth  frame. 
In  Christ  I  dyed,  by  Christ  to  live  ; 

John  Rogers  was  my  name. 
My  loving  wife  and  children  two 

My  place  behind  supply  ; 
God  grant  them  living  so  to  doe. 

That  they  in  him  may  dye. " 

George  Bolles,  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  died  1632. 

"  He  possessed  Earth  as  he  might  Heaven  possesse  ; 
Wise  to  doe  right,  but  never  to  oppresse. 
His  charity  was  better  felt  than  knowne. 
For  when  he  gave  there  was  no  trumpet  blowne. 
What  more  can  be  comprized  in  one  man's  fame. 
To  crown  a  soule,  and  leave  a  living  name?" 

Founders'  Hall,  now  in  St.  Swithin's  Lane,  was 
formerly  at  Founders'  Court,  Lothbury.  The 
Founders'  Company,  incorporated  in  1614,  had 
the  power  of  testing  all  brass  weights  and  brass 
and  copper  wares  within  the  City  and  three  miles 
round.  The  old  Founders'  Hall  was  noted  for 
its  political  meetings,  and  was  in  1792  nicknamed 
"The  Cauldron  of  Sedition."  Here  Waithman 
made  his  first  political  speech,  and,  with  his  fellow- 
orators,  was  put  to  flight  by  constables,  sent  by  the 
Lord  Mayor,  Sir  James  Sanderson,  to  disperse  the 
meeting. 

Watling  Street,  now  laid  open  by  the  new  street 
leading  to  the  Mansion  House,  is  probably  the 
oldest  street  in  London.  It  is  part  of  the  old 
Roman  military  road  that,  following  an  old  British 
forest-track,  led  from  London  to  Dover,  and  from 
Dover  to  South  Wales.  The  name,  according  to 
Leland,  is  from  the  Saxon  atheling — a  noble  street. 
At  the  north-west  end  of  it  is  the  church  of  St. 
Augustine,  anciently  styled  Ecdesia  SancU  Aiigiis- 
tini  ad  Portam,  from  its  vicinity  to  the  south-east 


gate  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral.  This  church  was 
described  on  page  349. 

Tower  Royal,  Watling  Street,  preserves  the 
memory  of  one  of  those  strange  old  palatial  forts 
that  were  not  unfrequent  in  mediaeval  London — 
half  fortresses,  half  dwelling-houses  ;  half  courting, 
half  distrusting  the  City.  "  It  was  of  old  time  the 
king's  house,"  says  Stow,  solemnly,  "  but  was  after- 
wards called  the  Queen's  Wardrobe.  By  whom 
the  same  was  first  built,  or  of  what  antiquity  con- 
tinued, I  have  not  read,  more  than  that  in  the 
reign  of  Edward  I.  it  was  the  tenement  of  Simon 
Beaumes."  In  the  reign  of  Edv/ard  III.  it  was 
called  "  the  Royal,  in  the  parish  of  St.  Michael 
Paternoster ;"  and  in  the  43rd  year  of  his  reign  he 
gave  the  inn,  in  value  ;^2o  a  year,  to  the  college 
of  St.  Stephen,  at  Westminster. 

In  the  Wat  Tyler  rebellion,  Richard  II.'s  mother 
and  her  ladies  took  refuge  there,  when  the  rebels 
had  broken  into  the  Tower  and  terrified  the  royal 
lady  by  piercing  her  bed  with  their  swords. 

"  King  Richard,"  says  Stow,  *'  having  in  Smith- 
field  overcome  and  dispersed  the  rebels,  he,  his 
lords,  and  all  his  company  entered  the  City  of 
London  with  great  joy,  and  went  to  the  lady 
princess  his  mother,  who  was  then  lodged  in  the 
Tower  Royal,  called  the  Queen's  Wardrobe,  where 
she  had  remained  three  days  and  two  nights,  riglit 
sore  abashed.  But  when  she  saw  the  king  her  son 
she  was  greatly  rejoiced,  and  said,  *  Ah  !  son,  what 
great  sorrow  have  I  suffered  for  you  this  day  ! ' 
The  king  answered  and  said,  *  Certainly,  madam,  I 
know  it  well ;  but  now  rejoyce,  and  thank  God, 
for  I  have  this  day  recovered  mine  heritage,  and 
the  realm  of  England,  which  I  had  near-hand 
lost.' " 

Richard  II.  was  lodging  at  the  Tower  Royal  at 
a  later  date,  when  the  "  King  of  Armony,"  as  Stow 
quaintly  calls  the  King  of  Armenia,  had  been 
driven  out  of  his  dominions  by  the  "  Tartarians  ; " 
and  the  lavish  young  king  bestowed  on  him  ;!^i,ooo 
a  year,  in  pity  for  a  banished  monarch,  little  think- 
ing how  soon  he,  discrowned  and  dethroned,  would 
be  vainly  looking  round  the  prison  walls  for  one 
look  of  sympathy. 

This  "great  house,"  belonging  anciently  to  the 
kings  of  England,  was  afterwards  inhabited  by  the 
first  Duke  of  Norfolk,  to  whom  it  had  been  granted 
by  Richard  III.,  the  master  he  served  at  Bos- 
worth.  Stiype  finds  an  entry  of  the  gift  in  an  old 
ledger-book  of  King  Richard's,  wherein  the  Tower 
Royal  is  described  as  "  Le  Tower,"  in  the  parish 
of  St.  Thomas  Apostle,  not  of  St.  Michael,  as  Stow 
has  it.  The  house  afterwards  sank  into  poverty, 
became  a  stable  for  "  all  the  king's  horses/'  anu  in 


552 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Cannon  Street  Tributanf?. 


Stow's  time  was  divided  into  poor  tenements.     Sic  ^nd  for  he  should  not  lye  alone, 

.          M     /     •              J-  Here  lyeth  with  him  his  frood  wife  Toan. 

transit  gloria  mundt.  ^,              .       ,       • 

,         ,                 r  c^       »      1     T        •      -ITT    !•        r>  1  hey  were  together  Sixty  year, 

The  church  of  St.  Anthohn,   m  Wathng  Street,  ^^^  „i„,t^e„  children  they  had  in  feere."  &c. 
is  the  only  old  church  in  London  dedicated  to  that 

monkish  saint.     The  date  of  its  foundation  is  un-  The   epitaph  of   Simon  Street,   grocer,   is  also 
known,  but  it  must  be  of  great  antiquity,  as  it  is  1  badly  written  enough  to  be  amusing : — 


ST.  antholin's  church,  watling  street. 


mentioned  by  Ralph  de  Diceto,  Dean  of  St.  Paul's 
at  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century.  The  church 
was  rebuilt,  about  the  year  1399,  by  Sir  Thomas 
Knowles,  Mayor  of  London,  who  was  buried  here, 
and  whose  odd  epitaph  Stow  notes  down  : — 

"  Here  lyeth  graven  under  this  stone 
Thomas  Knowles,  both  flesh  and  bone, 
Grocer  and  alderman,  years  forty. 
Sheriff  and  twice  maior,  truly  ; 


"  Such  as  I  am,  such  shall  you  be  ; 
Grocer  of  London,  sometime  was;  I, 
The  king's  weigher,  more  than  years  twenty 
Simon  Street  called,  in  my  place. 
And  good  fellowship  fain  would  trace  ; 
Therefore  in  heaven  everlasting  life, 
Jesu  send  me,  and  Agnes  my  wife,"  &c. 

St.  Antholin's  perished  in  the  Great  Fire,  and  the 
present  church  was  completed  by  Wren,  in  the 
year  1682,  at  the  expense  of  about  ;^5,7oo.     After 


Cannon  Street  Tributaries] 


PURITAN    FERVOUR. 


553 


the  fire  the  parish  of  St.  John  Baptist,  WatHng 
Street,  was  annexed  to  that  of  St.  Anthohn,  the 
latter  paying  five-eighths  towards  the  repairs  of 
the  church,  the  former  the  remaining  three-eighths. 
The  interior  of  the  church  is  peculiar,  being  covered 
with  an  oval-shaped  dome,  which  is  supported  on 
eight  columns,  which  stand  on  high  plinths.  The 
carpentry  of  the  roof,  says  Mr.  Godwin,  displays 
constructive  knowledge.  The  exterior  of  the 
building,  says  the  same  authority,  is  of  pleasing 
proportions,  and  shows  great  powers  of  invention. 
As  an  apology  for  adding  a  Gothic  spire  to  a  quasi- 


made  a  point  of  attending  these  early  prayers. 
Lilly,  the  astrologer,  went  to  these  lectures  when 
a  young  man  ;  and  Scott  makes  Mike  Lambourne, 
in  "  Kenilworth,"  refer  to  them.  Nor  have  they 
been  overlooked  by  our  early  dramatists.  Ran- 
dolph, Davenant,  and  others  make  frequent  allu- 
sions in  their  plays  to  the  Puritanical  fervour  of 
this  parish.  The  tongue  of  Middleton's  "  roaring 
girl "  was  "  heard  further  in  a  still  morning  than 
St.  Antlin's  bell." 

In   the   heart   of  the   City,    and   not   far  from 
London  Stone,  was  a  house  which  used  to  be  in- 


THE  CRYPT  OF  GERARO'S   HALL    {see  page  556). 


Grecian  church,  Wren  has,  oddly  enough,  crowned 
the  spire  with  a  small  Composite  capital,  which 
looks  like  the  top  of  a  pencil-case.  Above  this 
is  the  vane.  The  steeple  rises  to  the  height  of 
154  feet. 

The  church  was  rebuilt  by  John  Tate,  a  mercer, 
in  1 5 1 3 ;  and  Str)-pe  mentions  the  erection  in 
1623  of  a  rich  and  beautiful  gallery  with  fifty-two 
compartments,  filled  with  the  coats-of-arms  of 
kings  and  nobles,  ending  with  the  blazon  of  the 
Elector  Palatine.  A  new  morning  prayer  and 
lecture  was  established  here  by  clergymen  inclined 
to  Puritanical  principles  in  1599.  The  bells  began 
to  ring  at  five  in  the  morning,  and  were  considered 
Pharisaical  and  intolerable  by  all  High  Churchmen 
in  the  neighbourhood.  ,The  extreme  Geneva  party 
47 


habited  by  the  Lord  Mayor  or  one  of  the  sheriffs, 
situated  so  near  to  the  Church  of  St.  Antholin 
that  there  was  a  way  out  of  it  into  a  galler}'  of 
the  church.  The  commissioners  from  the  Church 
of  Scotland  to  King  Charles  were  lodged  here  in 
1640,  At  St.  Antholin's  preached  the  chaplains 
of  the  commission,  with  Alexander  Henderson  at 
their  head ;  "  and  curiosity,  faction,  and  humour 
brought  so  great  a  conflux  and  resort,  that  from  the 
first  appearance  of  day  in  the  morning,  on  every 
Sunday,  to  the  shutting  in  of  the  light,  the  church 
was  never  empty." 

Dugdale  also  mentions  the  church.  "  Now  for 
an  essay,"  he  says,  "  of  those  whom,  under  colour 
of  preaching  the  Gospel,  in  sundry  parts  of  the 
realm,  they  set  up  a  morning  lecture  at  St.  Antho- 


554 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Cannon  Street  Tributaries. 


line's  Church  in  London ;  where  (as  probationers 
for  that  purpose)  they  first  made  tryal  of  their 
abihties,  which  place  was  the  grand  nursery  whence 
most  of  the  seditious  preacliers  were  after  sent 
abroad  throughout  all  England  to  poyson  the 
people  with  their  anti-monarchical  principles." 

In  Watling  Street  is  the  chief  station  of  the 
London  Fire  Brigade.  The  Metropolitan  Board 
of  Works  has  consolidated  and  reorganised,  under 
Captain  Shaw,  the  whole  system  of  the  Fire  Brigade 
into  one  homogeneous  municipal  institution.  The 
insurance  companies  contribute  about  ;^i 0,000 
per  annum  towards  its  maintenance,  the  Treasury 
^10,000,  and  a  Metropolitan  rate  of  one  halfpenny 
in  the  pound  raises  an  additional  sum  of  ;^3o,ooo, 
making  about  ;;^5 0,000  in  all.  Under  the  old 
system  there  were  seventeen  fire-stations,  guarding 
an  area  of  about  ten  square  miles,  out  of  no 
which  comprise  the  Metropolitan  district  At  the 
commencement  of  1868  there  were  forty-three 
stations  in  an  area  of  about  no  square  miles. 
From  Captain  Shaw's  report,  presented  January  i, 
1873,  it  appears  that  during  the  year  1872  there 
had  been  three  deaths  in  the  brigade,  236  cases 
of  ordinary  illness,  and  100  injuries,  making  a  total 
of  336  cases.  The  strength  of  the  brigade  was 
as  follows  : — 50  fire-engine  stations,  106  fire-escape 
stations,  4  floating  stations,  52  telegraph  lines, 
84  miles  of  telegraph  lines,  3  floating  steam  fire- 
engines,  8  large  land  steam  fire-engines,  17  small 
ditto,  72  other  fire-engines,  125  fire-escapes,  396 
firemen.  The  number  of  watches  kept  up  through- 
out the  metropolis  is  98  by  day,  and  175  by 
jiight,  making  a  total  of  273  in  every  twenty-four 
hours.  The  remaining  men,  except  those  sick, 
injured,  or  on  leave,  are  available  for  general  work 
at  fires. 

If  Stow  is  correct,  St.  Mary's  Aldermary,  Watling  i 
Street,  was  originally  called  Aldermary  because  it 
was  older  than  St.  Mary's  Bow,  and,  indeed,  any 
other  church  in  London  dedicated  to  the  Virgin  ; 
but  this  is  improbable.  The  first  known  rector  of 
Aldermary  was  presented  before  the  year  1288.  In 
1703  two  of  the  turrets  were  blown  down.  In  1855 
a  building,  supposed  to  be  the  crypt  of  the  old 
church,  fifty  feet  long  and  ten  feet  wide,  and  with 
five  arches,  was  discovered  under  some  houses  in 
Watling  Street.  In  the  chancel  is  a  beautifully 
sculptured  tablet  by  Bacon,  with  this  peculiarity, 
that  it  bears  no  inscription.  Surely  the  celebrated 
•'  Miserrimus  "  itself  could  hardly  speak  so  strongly 
of  humility  or  despair.  Or  can  it  have  been,  says 
a  cynic,  a  monument  ordered  by  a  widow,  who 
married  again  before  she  had  time  to  write  the 
epitaph  to  the  "dear  departed?"    On  one  of  the 


walls  is  a  tablet  to  the  memory  of  that  celebrated 
surgeon  of  St.  Bartholomew's  for  forty-two  years, 
Percival  Pott,  Esq.,  F.R.S.,  who  died  in  1788. 
Pott,  according  to  u  memoir  written  by  Sir  James 
Cask,  succeeded  to  a  good  deal  of  the  business 
of  Sir  C^sar  Hawkins.  Pott  seems  to  have  enter- 
tained a  righteous  horror  of  amputations. 

The  following  curious  epitaph  is  worth  pre- 
serving : — 

' '  Heere  is  fixt  the  epitaph  of  Sir  Henry  Kebyll,  Knight, 
Who  was  sometime  of  London  Maior,  a  famous  worthy  wight, 
Which  did  this  Aldermarie  Church  erect  and  set  upright. 

Thogh  death  preuaile  with  mortal  wights,  and  hasten  every 

day, 
Yet  vertue  ouerlies  the  grave,  her  fame  doth  not  decay  ; 
As  memories  doe  shew  reuiu'd  of  one  that  was  aHue, 
Who,  being  dead,  of  vertuous  fame  none  should  seek  to  de- 

priue ; 
Which  so  in  liue  deseru'd  renowne,  for  facts  of  his  to  see, 
That  may  encourage  other  now  of  like  good  minde  to  be. 
Sir  Henry  Keeble,  Knight,  Lord  Maior  of  London,  here  lie 

sate, 
Of  Grocers'  worthy  Companie  the  chiefest  in  his  state, 
Which  in  this  city  grew  to  wealth,  and  unto  worship  came, 
When  Henry  raign'd  who  was  the  seventh  of  that  redoubted 

Hame. 
But  he  to  honor  did  atchieu  the  second  golden  yeere 
Of  Henry's  raigne,  so  called  the  8,  and  made  his  fact  appeere 
When  he  this  Aldermary  Church  gan  build  with  great  expence, 
Twice  30  yeeres  agon  no  doubt,  counting  the  time  from  hence. 
Which  work  begun  the  yere  of  Christ,  well  known  of  Christian 

men, 
One  thousand  and  fiue  hundred,  just,  if  you  will  add  but  ten. 
But,  lo  !  when  man  purposeth  most,  God  doth  dispose  tlie 

best; 
And  so,  before  this  work  was  done,  God  cald  this  knight  to 

rest. 
This  church,  then,  not  yet  fully  built,  he  died  about  the  yeere, 
When  111  May  day  first  took  his  name,  which  is  down  fixed 

here, 
Whose  works  became  a  sepulchre  to  shroud  him  in  that  case, 
God  took  his  soule,  but  corps  of  his  was  laid  about  this  place ; 
Who,  when  he  dyed,  of  this  his  work  so  mindful  still  he  was, 
That  he  bequeath'd  one  thousand  pounds  to  haue  it  brought  to 

passe. 
The  execution  of  whose  gift,  or  where  the  fault  should  be, 
The  work,  as  yet  unfinished,  shall  shew  you  all  for  me  ; 
Which  church  stands  there,  if  any  please  to  finish  up  the  same, 
As  he  hath  well  begun,  no  doubt,  and  to  his  endless  fame, 
They  shall  not  onley  well  bestow  their  talent  in  this  life, 
But  after  death,  when  bones  be  rot,  their  fame  shall  be  most 

rife, 
With  thankful  praise  and  good  report  of  our  parochians  here. 
Which  have  of  right  Sir  Henries  fame  afresh  renewed  this 

yeere. 
God  move  the  minds  of  wealthy  men  their  works  so  to  bestow 
As  he  hath  done,  that,  though  they  dye,  their  vertuous  fame 

may  flow." 

This  quaint  appeal  seems  to  have  had  its  effect, 
for  in  1626  a  Mr.  William  Rodoway  left  ;^2oo  for 
the  rebuilding  the  steeple ;  and  the  same  year  Mr. 
Richard   Pierson  bequeathed   200  marks  on  the 


Cannon  Street  Tributaries.! 


CROOKED  LANE. 


555 


express  condition  that  the  new  spire  should  re- 
semble the  old  one  of  Keeble's.  The  old  benefactor 
of  St,  Mary's  was  not  very  well  treated,  for  no 
monument  was  erected  to  him  till  1534,  when  his 
son-in-law,  William  Blount,  Lord  Mountjoy,  laid  a 
stone  reverently  over  him.  But  in  the  troubles 
following  the  Reformation  the  monument  was  cast 
down,  and  Sir  William  Laxton  (Lord  Mayor  in 
1534)  buried  in  place  of  Keeble,  The  church  was 
destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire,  but  soon  rebuilt  by 
Henry  Rogers,  Esq.,  who  gave  ;^5,ooo  for  the  pur- 
pose. An  able  paper  in  the  records  of  the  London 
and  Middlesex  Archaeological  Society  states  that 
"  the  tower  is  evidently  of  the  date  of  Kebyll's  work, 
as  shown  by  the  old  four-centre-headed  door  leading 
from  the  tower  into  the  staircase  turret,  and  also 
by  the  Caen  stone  of  which  this  part  of  the  turret 
is  built,  which  has  indications  of  fire  upon  its  sur- 
face. The  upper  portion  of  the  tower  was  rebuilt 
in  1 7 1 1 ;  the  intermediate  portion  is,  I  think,  the 
work  of  1632  ;  and  if  that  is  admitted,  it  is  curious 
as  an  example  of  construction  at  that  period  in  an 
older  style  than  that  prevalent  and  in  fashion  at 
the  time.  The  semi-EHzabethan  character  of  the 
detail  of  the  strings  and  ornamentation  seems  to 
confirm  this  conclusion,  as  they  are  just  such  as 
might  be  looked  for  in  a  Gothic  work  in  the  time 
of  Charles  I.  In  dealing  with  the  restoration  of 
the  church,  Wren  must  have  not  only  followed  the 
style  of  the  burned  edifice,  but  in  part  employed 
the  old  material.  The  church  is  of  ample  dimen- 
sions, being  a  hundred  feet  long  and  sixty-three  feet 
broad,  and  consists  of  a  nave  and  side  aisles.  The 
ceiUng  is  very  singular,  being  an  imitation  of  fan 
tracery  executed  in  plaster.  The  detail  of  this  is 
most  elaborate,  but  the  design  is  odd,  and,  being 
an  imitation  of  stone  construction,  the  effect  is  very 
unsatisfactory.  It  is  probable  that  the  old  roof 
was  of  wood,  and  entirely  destroyed  in  the  Fire ; 
consequently  no  record  of  it  remained  as  a  guide  in 
the  rebuilding,  as  was  the  case  with  the  clustered 
pillars,  which  are  good  and  correct  in  form,  and 
only  mongrel  in  their  details.  In  some  of  the  fur- 
niture of  the  church,  such  as  the  pulpit  and  the 
carving  of  the  pews,  the  Gothic  style  is  not  followed ; 
and  in  these,  as  in  the  other  parts  where  the  great 
master's  genius  is  left  unshackled,  we  perceive  the 
exquisite  taste  that  guided  him,  even  to  the  minutest 
details,  in  his  own  peculiar  style.  The  sword-holder 
in  this  church  is  a  favourable  example  of  the  careful 
thought  which  he  bestowed  upon  his  decoration. 
.  .  .  The  sword-holder  is  almost  universally  found 
in  the  City  churches.  .  .  .  Amongst  the  gifts  to 
this  church  is  one  by  Richard  Chawcer  (supposed  by 
Stowe  to  be  father  of  the  great  Geoffrey),  who  gave 


his  tenement  and  tavern  in  the  highway,  at  the 
comer  of  Keirion  Lane.  Richard  Chawcer  was 
buried  here  in  1348.  After  the  Fire,  the  parishes 
of  St.  Mary  Aldermary  and  St.  Thomas  the  Apostle 
were  united ;  and  as  the  advowson  of  the  latter 
belonged  to  the  cathedral  church  of  St.  Paul's,  the 
presentation  is  now  made  alternately  by  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury  and  by  the  Dean  and  Chapter 
of  St.  Paul's." 

"Crooked  Lane,"  says  Cunningham,  "was  so 
called  of  the  crooked  windings  thereof."  Part  of 
the  lane  was  taken  down  to  make  the  approach  to 
new  London  Bridge.  It  was  long  famous  for  its 
bird-cages  and  fishing-tackle  shops.  We  find  in  an 
old  EHzabethan  letter — 

"At  my  last  attendance  on  your  lordship  at 
Hansworth,  I  was  so  bold  to  promise  your  lordship 
to  send  you  a  much  more  convenient  house  for 
your  lordship's  fine  bird  to  live  in  than  that  she  was 
in  when  I  was  there,  which  by  this  bearer  I  trust  I 
have  performed.  It  is  of  the  best  sort  of  building 
in  Crooked  Lane,  strong  and  well-proportioned, 
wholesomely  provided  for  her  seat  and  diet,  and 
with  good  provision,  by  the  wires  below,  to  keep 
her  feet  cleanly."  (Thomas  Markham  to  Thomas, 
Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  Feb.  17th,  1589.) 

"  The  most  ancient  house  in  this  lane,"  says  Stow, 
*'  is  called  the  Leaden  Porch,  and  belonged  some 
time  to  Sir  John  Merston,  Knight,  the  ist  Edward 
IV.  It  is  now  called  the  Swan  in  Crooked  Lane, 
possessed  of  strangers,  and  selling  of  Rhenish  wine." 

"In  the  year  1560,  July  5th,"  says  Stow,  "  there 
came  certain  men  into  Crooked  Lane  to  buy  a  gun 
or  two,  and  shooting  off  a  piece  it  burst  in  pieces, 
went  through  the  house,  and  spoiled  about  five 
houses  more;  and  of  that  goodly  church  adjoining, 
it  threw  down  a  great  part  on  one  side,  and  left 
never  a  glass  window  whole.  And  by  it  eight  men 
and  one  maid  were  slain,  and  divers  hurt." 

In  St.  Michael's  Church,  Crooked  Lane,  now 
pulled  down,  Sir  William  Walworth  was  buried.  In 
the  year  in  which  he  killed  Wat  Tyler  (says  Stow), 
"the  said  Sir  William  Walworth  founded  in  the  said 
parish  church  of  St.  Michael,  a  college,  for  a  master 
and  nine  priests  or  chaplains,  and  deceasing  1385, 
was  there  buried  in  the  north  chapel,  by  the  quire ; 
but  this  monument  being  amongst  others  (by  bad 
people)  defaced  in  the  reign  of  Edward  VI.,  was 
again  since  renewed  by  the  Fishmongers.  This 
second  monument,  after  the  profane  demolishing 
of  the  first,  was  set  up  in  June,  1562,  with  his 
efiigies  in  alabaster,  in  armour  richly  gilt,  by  the 
Fishmongers,  at  the  cost  of  William  Parvis,  fish- 
monger, who  dwelt  at  the  '  Castle,'  in  New  Fish 
Street."    The  epitaph  ran  thus  ; — 


556 


OLD  AND  NEW    LONDON. 


[Cannon  Street  Tributaries. 


"  Here  under  lytli  a  man  of  fame, 
William  Walwortli  callyd  by  name. 
Fishmonger  he  was  in  lyfftime  here, 
And  twise  Lord  IMaior,  as  in  bookes  appere ; 
Who  with  courage  stout  and  manly  myght 
Slew  Jack  Straw  in  King  Richard's  syght. 
For  which  act  done  and  trew  content. 
The  kyng  made  hym  knight  incontinent. 
And  gave  hym  amies,  as  here  you  see, 
To  declare  his  fact  and  chivalrie. 
He  left  this  lyff  the  yere  of  our  God, 
Thirteen  hondred  fourscore  and  three  odd." 

Gerard's  Hall,  Basing  Lane,  Bread  Street  (re- 
moved for  improvements  in  1852),  and  latterly  an 
hotel,  was  rebuilt,  after  the  Great  Fire,  on  the 
site  of  the  house  of  Sir  John  Gisors  (Pepperer), 
Mayor  in  1245  (Henry  IH.).  The  son  of  the 
Mayor  was  Mayor  and  Constable  of  the  Tower  in 
13 1 1  (Edward  IL).  This  second  Gisors  seems  to 
have  got  into  trouble  from,  boldly  and  honestly 
standing  up  for  the  liberties  of  the  citizens,  and  his 
troubles  began  after  this  manner. 

In  the  troublesome  reign  of  Edward  II.  it  was 
ordained  by  Parliament  that  every  city  and  town 
in  England,  according  to  its  ability,  should  raise 
and  maintain  a  certain  number  of  soldiers  against 
the  Scots,  who  at  that  time,  by  their  great  depre- 
dations, had  laid  waste  all  the  north  of  England 
as  far  as  York  and  Lancaster.  The  quota  of 
London  to  that  expedition  being  200  men,  it  was 
five  times  the  number  that  was  sent  by  any  other 
city  or  town  in  the  kingdom.  To  meet  this 
requisition  the  Mayor  in  council  levied  a  rate 
on  the  city,  the  raising  of  which  was  the  occasion 
of  continual  broils  between  the  magistrates  and 
freemen,  which  ended  in  the  Jury  of  Aldermanbury 
making  a  presentation  before  .the  Justices  Itinerant 
and  the  Lord  Treasurer  sitting  in  the  Tower  of 
London,  to  this  effect : — "  That  the  commonalty 
of  London  is,  and  ought  to  be,  common,  and  that 
the  citizens  are  not  bound  to  be  taxed  without  the 
special  command  of  the  king,  or  without  their 
common  consent ;  that  the  Mayor  of  the  City,  and 
the  custodes  in  their  time,  after  the  common 
redemption  made  and  paid  for  the  City  of  London, 
have  come,  and  by  their  own  authority,  without 
the  King's  command  and  Commons'  consent,  did 
tax  the  said  City  according  to  their  own  wills,  once 
and  more,  and  distrained  for  those  taxes,  sparing 
the  rich,  and  oppressing  the  poor  middle  sort; 
not  permitting  that  the  arrearages  due  from  the 
rich  be  levied,  to  the  disinheriting  of  the  King 
and  the  destruction  of  the  City,  nor  can  the  CoYn- 
mons  know  what  becomes  of  the  monies  levied 
of  such  taxes." 
'  They  also  complained  that  the  said  Mayor  and 


aldermen  had  taken  upon  them  to  turn  out  of 
the  Common  Council  men  at  their  pleasure ;  and 
that  the  Mayor  and  superiors  of  the  City  had 
deposed  Walter  Henry  from  acting  in  the  Common 
Council,  because  he  would  not  permit  the  rich  to 
levy  tollages  upon  the  poor,  till  they  themselves 
had  paid  their  arrears  of  former  tollages ;  upon 
which  Sir  John  Gisors,  some  time  Lord  Mayor,  and 
divers  of  the  principal  citizens,  were  summoned  to 
attend  the  said  justices,  and  personally  to  answer 
to  the  accusations  laid  against  them ;  but,  being 
conscious  of  guilt,  they  fled  from  justice,  screening 
themselves  under  the  difiiculty  of  the  time. 

How  long  Sir  John  Gisors  remained  absent  from 
London  does  not  appear ;  but  probably  on  the 
dethronement  of  Edward  II.  and  accession  of 
Edward  III.,  he  might  join  the  prevailing  party 
and  return  to  his  mansion,  without  any  dread  of 
molestation  from  the  power  of  ministers  and 
favourites  of  the  late  reign,  who  were  at  this  period 
held  in  universal  detestation.  Sir  John  Gisors 
died,  and  was  buried  in  Our  Lady's  Chapel,  Christ 
Church,  Faringdon  Within  (Christ's  Hospital). 

Later  in  that  century  the  house  became  the  resi- 
dence of  Sir  Henry  Picard,  Vintner  and  Lord 
Mayor,  who  entertained  here,  with  great  splendour, 
no  less  distinguished  personages  than  his  sovereign, 
Edward  III.,  John  King  of  France,  the  King  of 
Cyprus,  David  King  of  Scotland,  Edward  the  Black 
Prince,  and  a  large  assemblage  of  the  nobility. 
"And  after,"  says  Stow,  "the  said  Henry  Picard 
kept  his  hall  against  all  comers  whosoever  that  were 
willing  to  play  at  dice  and  hazard.  In  like  manner, 
the  Lady  Margaret  his  wife  did  also  keep  her 
chamber  to  the  same  effect."  We  are  told  that  on 
this  occasion  "  the  King  of  Cyprus,  playing  with 
Sir  Henry  Picard  in  his  hall,  did  win  of  him  fifty 
marks ;  but  Picard,  being  very  skilled  in  that  art, 
altering  his  hand,  did  after  win  of  the  same  king 
the  same  fifty  marks,  and  fifty  marks  more ;  which 
when  the  same  king  began  to  take  in  ill  part, 
although  he  dissembled  the  same,  Sir  Henry  said 
unto  him,  '  My  lord  and  king,  be  not  aggrieved ; 
I  court  not  your  gold,  but  your  play ;  for  I  have 
not  bid  you  hither  that  you  might  grieve ; '  and 
giving  him  his  money  again,  plentifully  bestowed  of 
his  own  amongst  the  retinue.  Besides,  he  gave 
many  rich  gifts  to  the  king,  and  other  nobles  and 
knights  which  dined  with  him,  to  the  great  glory  of 
the  citizens  of  London  in  those  days." 

Gerard  Hall  contained  one  of  the  finest  Norman 
crv'pts  to  be  found  in  all  London.  It  was  not  an 
ecclesiastical  crypt,  but  the  great  vaulted  warehouse 
of  a  Norman  merchant's  house,  and  it  is  especially 
mentioned  by  Stow, 


Cannon  Street  Tributaries.] 


GERARD'S   HALL. 


557 


"  On  the  south  side  of  Basing  Lane,"  says  Stow, 
"  is  one  great  house  of  old  time,  built  upon  arched 
vaults,  and  with  arched  gates  of  stone,  brought 
from  Caen,  in  Normandy.  The  same  is  now  a 
common  hostrey  for  receipt  of  travellers,  commonly 
and  corruptly  called  Gerrarde's  Hall,  of  a  giant 
said  to  have  dwelt  there.  In  the  high-roofed  hall  of 
this  house  some  time  stood  a  large  fir-pole,  which 
reached  to  the  roof  thereof,  and  was  said  to  be  one 
of  the  staves  that  Gerrarde  the  giant  used  in  the 
wars  to  run  withal.  There  stood  also  a  ladder  of 
the  same  length,  which  (as  they  say)  served  to 
ascend  to  the  top  of  the  staff.  Of  later  years  this 
hall  is  altered  in  building,  and  divers  rooms  are 
made  in  it ;  notwithstanding  the  pole  is  removed 
to  one  comer  of  the  room,  and  the  ladder  hangs 
broken  upon  a  wall  in  the  yard.  The  hostelar  of 
that  house  said  to  me,  '  the  pole  lacketh  half  a 
foot  of  forty  in  length.'  I  measured  the  compass 
thereof,  and  found  it  fifteen  inches.  Reasons  of  the 
pole  could  the  master  of  the  hostrey  give  none  ; 
but  bade  me  read  the  great  chronicles,  for  there 
he  had  heard  of  it.  I  will  now  note  what  myself 
hath  observed  concerning  that  house.  I  read  that 
John  Gisors,  Mayor  of  London  in  1245,  was  owner 
thereof,  and  that  Sir  John  Gisors,  Constable  of  the 
Tower  13 n,  and  divers  others  of  that  name  and 
family,  since  that  time  owned  it.  So  it  appeareth 
that  this  Gisors  Hall  of  late  time,  by  corruption, 
hath  been  called  Gerrarde's  Hall  for  Gisors'  Hall. 
The  pole  in  the  hall  might  be  used  of  old  times  (as 
then  the  custom  was  in  every  parish)  to  be  set  up 
in  the  summer  as  a  maypole.  The  ladder  served 
for  the  decking  of  the  maypole  and  roof  of  the 
hall."  The  works  of  Wilkinson  and  J.  T.  Smith 
contain  a  careful  view  of  the  interior  of  this  crypt. 
There  used  to  be  outside  the  hotel  a  quaint  gigantic 
figure  of  seventeenth  century  workmanship. 

In  1844  Mr.  James  Smith,  the  originator  of 
early  closing  (then  living  at  W.  Y.  Ball  and  Co.'s, 
Wood  Street),  learning  that  the  warehouses  in 
Manchester  were  closed  at  one  p.m.  on  Saturday, 
determined  to  ascertain  if  a  similar  system  could 
not  be  introduced  into  the  metropolis.  He  invited 
a  few  friends  to  meet  him  at  the  Gerard's  Hall. 
Mr.  F.  Bennock,  of  Wood  Street,  was  appointed 
chairman,  and  a  canvass  was  commenced,  but  it  was 
feared  that,  as  certain  steam-packets  left  London 
on  Saturday  afternoon,  the  proposed  arrangement 
might  prevent  the  proper  dispatch  of  merchandise, 
so  it  was  suggested  that  the  warehouses  should 
be  closed  "  all  the  year  round "  eight  months  at 
six  o'clock,  and  four  months  at  eight  o'clock.  This 
arrangement  was  acceded  to. 

St.  Mary  Woolchurcli  was  an  old  parish  church 


in  Walbrook  Ward,  destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire, 
and  not  rebuilt.  It  occupied  part  of  the  site 
of  the  Mansion  House,  and  derived  its  name 
from  a  beam  for  weighing  wool  that  was  kept  there 
till  the  reign  of  Richard  II.,  when  customs  began 
to  be  taken  at  the  Wool  Key,  in  Lower  Thames 
Street.  Some  of  the  bequests  to  this  church,  as 
mentioned  by  Stow,  are  very  characteristic.  Elyu 
Fuller :  "  Farthermore,  I  will  that  myn  executor 
shal  kepe  yerely,  during  the  said  yeres,  about  the 
tyme  of  my  departure,  an  Obit — that  is  to  say, 
Dirige  over  even,  and  masse  on  the  morrow,  for 
my  sowl,  Mr.  Kneysworth's  sowl,  my  lady  sowl, 
and  al  Christen  sowls."  One  George  Wyngar,  by 
his  will,  dated  September  13,  1521,  ordered  to 
be  buried  in  the  church  of  Woolchurch,  "  besyde 
the  Stocks,  in  London,  under  a  stone  lying  at  my 
Lady  Wyngar's  pew  dore,  at  the  steppe  comyng  up 
to  the  chappel.  Item.  I  bequeath  to  pore  maids' 
mariages  ;!^i3  6s.  8d;  to  every  pore  householder 
of  this  my  parish,  4d.  a  pece  to  the  sum  of  40s. 
Item,  I  bequeath  to  the  high  altar  of  S.  Nicolas 
Chapel  ;^io  for  an  altar-cloth  of  velvet,  with  my 
name  brotheryd  thereupon,  with  a  Wyng,  and  G 
and  A  and  R  closyd  in  a  knot.  Also,  I  wold 
that  a  subdeacon  of  whyte  damask  be  made  to  the 
hyghe  altar,  with  my  name  brotheryd,  to  syng  in, 
on  our  Lady  daies,  in  the  honour  of  God  and  our 
Lady,  to  the  value  of  seven  marks."  The  following 
epitaph  is  also  worth  preserving: — 

"  In  Sevenoke,  into  the  world  my  mother  brought  me  ; 
Hawlden  House,  in  Kent,  with  armes  ever  lionour'd  me  ; 
Westminster  Hall  (thirty-six  yeeres  after)  knew  me. 
Then  seeking  Heaven,  Heaven  from  the  world  tooke  me  ; 
Whilome  alive,  Thomas  Scot  men  called  me  ; 
Now  laid  in  grave  oblivion  covereth  me." 

In  1850,  among  the  ruins  of  a  Roman  edifice,  at 
eleven  feet  depth,  was  found  in  Nicholas  Lane, 
near  Cannon  Street,  a  large  slab,  inscribed  "  Num. 
C^s.  Prov.  Brita."  {Numini  Ccesaris  Provincia 
Britannia).  In  1852  tesselated  pavement,  Samian 
ware,  earthen  urns  and  lamp,  and  other  Roman 
vessels  were  found  from  twelve  to  twenty  feet  deep 
near  Basing  Lane,  New  Cannon  Street. 

According  to  Dugdale,  Eudo,  Steward  of  the 
Household  to  King  Henry  L  (iioo— 1135),  gave 
the  Church  of  St.  Stephen,  which  stood  on  the 
west  side  of  Walbrook,  to  the  Monastery  of  St. 
John  at  Colchester.  In  the  reign  of  Henry  VI. 
Robert  Chicheley,  Mayor  of  London,  gave  a  piece 
of  ground  on  the  east  side  of  Walbrook,  for  a  new 
church,  125  feet  long  and  67  feet  broad.  It  was 
in  this  church,  in  Queen  Mary's  time,  that  Dr. 
Feckenham,  her  confessor  and  the  fanatical  Deau 
of  St.  Paul's,  used  to  preach  the  doctrines  of  the 


55' 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[Cannon  Street  Tributaries. 


old  faith.  The  church  was  destroyed  in  the  Great 
Fire,  and  rebuilt  by  Wren  in  1672-g.  The  fol- 
lowing is  one  of  the  old  epitaphs  here  : — 

"  This  life  hath  on  earth  no  certain  while, 
Example  by  John,  Mary,  and  Oliver  Stile, 
Who  under  this  stone  lye  buried  in  the  dust. 
And  putleth  you  in  memory  that  dye  all  must." 

The  parish  of  St.  Stephen  is  now  united  to  that 
of  St.  Bennet  Sherehog  (Pancras  Lane),  the  church 
of  which  was  destroyed  in  the  Fire.  The  cupola 
of  St.  Stephen's  is  supposed  by  some  vvTiters  to  have 
been  a  rehearsal  for  the  dome  of  St,  Paul's.    "  The 


area  formed  by  the  cblumns  and  their  entablature 
and  the  cupola  which  covers  it.  The  columns  are 
raised  on  plinths.  The  spandrels  of  the  arches 
bearing  the  cupola  present  panels  containing  shields 
and  foliage  of  unmeaning  form.  The  pilasters  at 
the  chancel  end  and  the  brackets  on  the  side  wall 
are  also  condemned.  The  windows  in  the  clerestory 
are  mean  ;  the  enrichments  of  the  meagre  entabla- 
ture clumsy.  The  fine  cupola  is  divided  into  panels 
ornamented  with  palm-branches  and  roses,  and  is 
terminated  at  the  apex  by  a  circular  lantern-light. 
The  walls  of  the  church  are  plain,  and  disfigured," 


--J^.nm^.i)  tax  !  ■. 


U1.U    blU,N    UI-     lUfc    "  liOAR's    UEAU"    {seV  />tr^t  $61). 


interior,"  says  Mr.  Godwin,  ''  is  certainly  more 
worthy  of  admiration  in  respect  of  its  general 
arrangement,  which  disj^lays  great  skill,  than  of 
the  details,  which  are  in  many  respects  faulty. 
The  body  of  the  church,  which  is  nearly  a  paral- 
lelogram, is  divided  into  five  unequal  aisles  (the 
centre  being  the  largest)  by  four  rows  of  Corin- 
thian columns,  within  one  intercolumniation  from 
the  east  end.  Two  columns  from  each  of  the  two 
centre  rows  are  omitted,  and  the  area  thus  formed 
is  covered  by  an  enriched  cupola,  supported  on 
light  arches,  which  rise  from  the  entablature  of  the 
columns.  By  the  distribution  of  the  columns  and 
their  entablature,  an  elegant  cruciform  arrangement 
is  given  to  this  part  of  the  church.  But  this  is 
marred  in  some  degree,"'  says  the  writer,  "by  the 
want  of  connection  which  exists  between  the  square 


says  Mr.  Godwin,  "  by  the  introduction  of  those 
disagreeable  oval  openings  for  light  so  often  used 
by  Wren." 

The  picture,  by  West,  of  the  death  of  St.  Stephen 
is  considered  by  some  persons  a  work  of  high 
character,  though  to  us  West  seems  always  the 
tamest  and  most  insipid  of  painters.  The  exterior 
of  the  building  is  dowdily  plain,  except  the  upper 
part  of  the  steeple,  which  slightly,  says  Mr.  Godwin, 
"resembles  that  of  St,  James's,  Garlick  Hythe. 
The  approach  to  the  body  of  the  church  is  by  a 
flight  of  sixteen  steps,  in  an  enclosed  porch  in 
AValbrook  quite  distinct  from  the  tower  and  main 
building."  Mr,  Gwilt  seems  to  have  considered 
this  church  a  chcf-d\viivre  of  Wren's,  and  says  : 
"  Had  its  materials  and  volume  been  as  durable 
and  extensive  as  those  of  St,  Paul's  Cathedral,  Sir 


Cannon  Street  Tributaries.] 


ST.  STEPHEN'S,  WALBROOK. 


559 


EXTERIOR   OF    ST.   STEPHEN'S,    WALBROOK,    IN  I700. 


5  Sc- 


old AND   New  LONt)ON. 


[Eastcheap. 


Christopher  Wren  had  consummated  a  much  more 
efficient  monument  to  his  well-earned  fame  than 
that  fabric  affords."  Compared  with  any  other 
church  of  nearly  the  same  magnitude,  Italy  cannot 
exhibit  its  equal ;  elsewhere  its  rival  is  not  to  be 
found.  Of  those  worthy  of  notice,  the  Zitelle,  at 
Venice  (by  Palladio),  is  the  nearest  approximation 
in  regard  to  size ;  but  it  ranks  far  below  our  church 
in  point  of  composition,  and  still  lower  in  point  of 
effect. 

"  The  interior  of  St.  Stephen's,"  says  Mr,  Timbs, 
*'  is  one  of  Wren's  finest  works,  with  its  exquisitely 
proportioned  Corinthian  columns,  and  great  central 
dome  of  timber  and  lead,  resting  upon  a  circle  of 
light  arches  springing  from  column  to  column. 
Its  enriched  Composite  cornice,  the  shields  of  the 
spandrels,  and  the  palm-branches  and  rosettes  of 
the  dome-coffers  are  very  beautiful ;  and  as  you 
enter  from  the  dark  vestibule,  a  halo  of  dazzling 
light  flashes  upon  the  eye  through  the  central 
aperture  of  the  cupola.  The  elliptical  openings 
for  light  in  the  side  walls  are,  however,  very  objec- 
tionable. The  fittings  are  of  oak ;  and  the  altar- 
screen,  organ-case,  and  gallery  have  some  good 
carvings,  among  which  are  prominent  the  arms  of 
the  Grocers'  Company,  the  patrons  of  the  living, 
and  who  gave  the  handsome  wainscoting.  The 
enriched  pulpit,  its  festoons  of  fruit  and  flowers, 
and  canopied  sounding-board,  \nth  angels  bearing 
wreaths,  are  much  admired.  The  church  was 
cleaned  and  repaired  in  1850,  when  West's  splendid 
painting  of  the  martyrdom  of  St.  Stephen,  pre- 
sented in  1779  by  the  then  rector.  Dr.  Wilson,  was 
removed  from  over  the  altar  and  placed  on  the 
north  wall  of  the  church ;  and  the  window  which 
the  picture  had  blocked  up  was  then  reopened." 
The  oldest  monument  in  the  church  is  that  of  John 
Lilburne  (died  1678).  Sir  John  Vanbrugh,  the 
wit  and  architect,  is  buried  here  in  the  family  vault. 
During  the  repairs,  in  1850,  it  is  stated  that  4,000 
coffins  were  found  beneath  the  church,  and  were 
covered  with  brickwprk  and  concrete  to  prevent 
the  escape  of  noxious  effluvia.  The  exterior  of 
the  church  is  plain;  the  tower  and  spire,  128  feet 
high,  is  at  the  termination  of  Charlotte  Row.  Dr. 
Croly,  the  poet,  was  for  many  years  rector  of  St. 
Stephen's. 

Eastcheap  is  mentioned  as  a  street  of  cooks' 
shops  by  Lydgate,  a  monk,  who  flourished  in  the 
reigns  of  Henry  V.  and  VI.,  in  his  "London 
Lackpenny : " — 

"  Then  I  hyed  me  into  Estchepe, 

One  cryes  rybbs  of  befe,  and  many  a  pye  ; 
Pewter  pots  they  clattered  on  a  heape, 
There  was  harpe,  pype,  and  mynstrelsyc." 


Stow  especially  says  that  in  Henry  IV.'s  time 
there  were  no  taverns  in  Eastcheap.  He  tells  the 
following  story  of  how  Prince  Hal's  two  roystering 
brothers  were  here  beaten  by  the  watch.  This 
slight  hint  perhaps  led  Shakespeare  to  select  this 
street  for  the  scene  of  the  prince's  revels. 

"  This  Eastcheap,"  says  Stow,  "  is  now  a  flesh- 
market  of  butchers,  there  dwelling  on  both  sides  of 
the  street ;  it  had  some  time  also  cooks  mixed 
among  the  butchers,  and  such  other  as  sold  victuals 
ready  dressed  of  all  sorts.  For  of  old  time,  such 
as  were  disposed  to  be  merry,  met  not  to  dine 
and  sup  in  taverns  (for  they  dressed  not  meats  to 
be  sold),  but  to  the  cooks,  where  they  called  for 
meat  what  them  liked. 

"In  the  year  1410,  the  nth  of  Henry  IV., 
upon  the  even  of  St.  John  Baptist,  the  king's 
sons,  Thomas  and  John,  being  in  Eastcheap  at 
supper  (or  rather  at  breakfast,  for  it  was  after  the 
watch  was  broken  up,  betwixt  two  and  three  of  the 
clock  after  midnight),  a  great  debate  happened 
between  their  men  and  other  of  the  court,  which 
lasted  one  hour,  even  till  the  maior  and  sheriffs, 
with  other  citizens,  appeased  the  same ;  for  the  which 
afterwards  the  said  maior,  aldermen,  and  sheriffs 
were  sent  for  to  answer  before  the  king,  his  sons  and 
divers  lords  being  highly  moved  against  the  City. 
At  which  time  William  Gascoigne,  chief  justice, 
required  the  maior  and  aldermen,  for  the  citizens, 
to  put  them  in  the  king's  grace.  Whereunto  they 
answered  they  had  not  offended,  but  (according  to 
the  law)  had  done  their  best  in  stinting  debate  and 
maintaining  of  the  peace ;  upon  which  answer  the 
king  remitted  all  his  ire  and  dismissed  them." 

The  "  Boar's  Head,"  Eastcheap,  stood  on  the 
north  side  of  Eastcheap,  between  Small  Alley  and 
St.  Michael's  Lane,  the  back  windows  looking  out 
on-  the  churchyard  of  St.  Michael,  Crooked  Lane, 
which  was  removed  with  the  inn,  rebuilt  after  the 
Great  Fire,  in  1 831,  for  the  improvement  of  new 
London  Bridge. 

In  the  reign  of  Richard  II.  William  Warder 
gave  the  tenement  called  the  "Boar's  Head,"  in 
Eastcheap,  to  a  college  of  priests,  founded  by  Sir 
William  Walworth,  for  tlie  adjoining  church  of 
St.  Michael,  Crooked  Lane.  In  Maitland's  time 
the  inn  was  labelled,  "  This  is  the  chief  tavern  in 
London." 

Upon  a  house  (says  Mr.  Godwin)  on  the  south 
side  of  Eastcheap,  previous  to  recent  alterations, 
there  was  a  representation  of  a  boar's  head,  to 
indicate  the  site  of  the  tavern ;  but  there  is  reason 
to  believe  that  this  was  incorrectly  placed,  inso- 
much as  by  the  books  of  St.  Clement's  parish  it 
appears  to  have  been  situated  on  the?  north  side. 


Eastcheap.] 


THE   "BOAR'S   HEAD,"   EASTCHEAP. 


561 


It  seems  by  a  deed  of  trust  which  still  remains, 
that  the  tavern  belonged  to  this  parish,  and  in  the 
books  about  the  year  17 10  appears  this  entry: 
"  Ordered  that  the  churchwardens  doe  pay  to  the 
Rev.  Mr.  PuUeyn  ;^2o  for  four  years,  due  to  him 
at  Lady  Day  next,  for  one  moyetee  of  the  ground- 
rent  of  a  house  formerly  called  the  '  Boar's  Head,' 
Eastcheap,  near  the  'George'  alehouse."  Again, 
too,  we  find  :  "August  13,  17 14.  An  agreement  was 
entered  into  with  William  Usborne,  to  grant  him  a 
lease  for  forty-six  years,  .from  the  expiration  of  the 
then  lease,  of  a  brick  messuage  or  tenement  on  the 
north  side  of  Great  Eastcheap,  commonly  known  by 
the  name  of '  the  Lamb  and  Perriwig,'  in  the  occu- 
pation of  Joseph  Lock,  barber,  and  which  was 
formerly  known  as  the  sign  of  the  '  Boar's  Head.' " 

On  the  removal  of  a  mound  of  rubbish  at 
VVhitechapel,  brought  there  after  a  great  fire,  a 
carved  boxwood  bas-relief  boar's  head  was  found, 
set  in  a  circular  frame  formed  by  two  boars'  tusks, 
mounted  and  united  with  silver.  An  inscription  to 
the  following  effect  was  pricked  at  the  back : — 
"William  Brooke,  Landlord  of  the  Bore's  Hedde, 
Estchepe,  1566."  This  object,  formerly  in  the 
possession  of  Mr.  Stamford,  the  celebrated  pub- 
lisher, was  sold  at  Christie  and  Manson's,  on 
January  27,  1855,  and  was  bought  by  Mr.  Halli- 
well.  The  ancient  sign,  carved  in  stone,  with  the 
initials  I.  T.,  and  the  date  1668,  is  now  preserved 
in  the  City  of  London  Library,  Guildhall. 

In  1834  Mr.  Kempe  exhibited  to  the  Society  of 
Antiquaries  a  carved  oak  figure  of  Sir  John  Falstaff, 
in  the  costume  of  the  sixteenth  century.  This 
figure  had  supported  an  ornamental  bracket  over 
one  side  of  the  door  of  the  last  "  Boar's  Head,"  a 
figure  of  Prince  Henry  sustaining  the  other.  This 
figure  of  Falstaff  was  the  property  of  a  brazer 
whose  ancestors  had  lived  in  the  same  shop  in 
Great  Eastcheap  ever  since  the  Fire.  He  remem- 
bered the  last  great  Shakesperian  dinner  at  the 
"  Boar's  Head,"  about  1784,  when  Wilberforce  and 
Pitt  were  both  present ;  and  though  there  were 
many  wits  at  table,  Pitt,  he  said,  was  pronounced 
the  most  pleasant  and  amusing  of  the  guests. 
There  is  another  "  Boar's  Head  "  in  Southwark,  and 
one  in  Old  Fish  Street. 

"  In  the  month  of  May,  1718,"  says  Mr.  Hotten, 
in  his  "  History  of  Sign-boards,"  "  one  James 
Austin,  '  inventor  of  the  Persian  ink-powder,'  de- 
siring to  give  his  customers  a  substantial  proof  of 
his  gratitude,  invited  them  to  the  'Boar's  Head' 
to  partake  of  an  immense  plum  pudding — this 
pudding  weighed  1,000  pounds — a  baked  pudding 
of  one  foot  square,  and  the  best  piece  of  an  ox 
roasted.  -.The  principal  dish  was  put  in  the  copper 


on  Monday,  May  1 2,  at  the  '  Red  Lion  Inn,'  by 
the  'Mint,  in  Southwark,  and  had  to  boil  fourteen 
days.  From  there  it  was  to  be  brought  to  the 
'  Swan  Tavern,'  in  Fish  Street  Hill,  accom- 
panied by  a  band  of  music,  playing  '  What  lumps 
of  pudding  my  mother  gave  me  ! '  One  of  the 
instruments  was  a  drum  in  proportion  to  the 
pudding,  being  18  feet  2  inches  in  length,  and  4 
feet  in  diameter,  which  was  drawn  by  'a  device 
fixed  on  six  asses.'  Finally,  the  monstrous  pudding 
was  to  be  divided  in  St.  George's  Fields ;  but 
apparently  its  smell  was  too  much  for  the  gluttony 
of  the  Londoners.  The  escort  was  routed,  the 
pudding  taken  and  devoured,  and  the  whole  cere- 
mony brought  to  an  end  before  Mr.  Austin  had  a 
chance  to  regale  his  customers."  Puddings  seem 
to  have  been  the  forte  of  this  Austin.  Twelve  or 
thirteen  years  before  this  last  pudding  he  had  baked 
one,  for  a  wager,  ten  feet  deep  in  the  Thames,  near 
Rotherhithe,  by  enclosing  it  in  a  great  tin  pan, 
and  that  in  a  sack  of  lime.  It  was  taken  up  after 
about  two  hours  and  a  half,  and  eaten  with  great 
relish,  its  only  fault  being  that  it  was  somewhat 
overdone.     The  bet  was  for  more  than  ;j^ioo. 

In  the  burial-ground  of  St.  Michael's  Church, 
hard  by,  rested  all  that  was  mortal  of  one  of  the 
waiters  of  this  tavern.  His  tomb,  in  Purbeck 
stone,  had  the  following  epitaph : — 

"  Here  lieth  the  bodye  of  Robert  Preston,  late  drawer  at  the 
'Boar's  Head  Tavern,'  Great  Eastcheap,  who  departed  this 
life  March  i6,  Anno  Domini  1730,  aged  twenty-seven  years. 

"  Bacchus,  to  give  the  toping  world  surprise, 
Produc'd  one  sober  son,  and  here  he  lies. 
Tho'  nurs'd  among  full  hogsheads,  he  defy'd 
The  chann  of  wine,  and  every  vice  beside. 
O  reader,  if  to  justice  thou'rt  inclined, 
Keep  honest  Preston  daily  in  thy  mind. 
He  drew  good  wine,  took  care  to  fill  his  pots, 
Had  sundry  virtues  that  outweighed  his  fauts  (sic). 
You  that  on  Bacchus  have  the  like  dependence, 
Pray  copy  Bob  in  measure  and  attendance. " 

Goldsmith  visited  the  "  Boar's  Head,"  and  has 
left  a  delightful  essay  upon  his  day-dreams  there, 
totally  forgetting  that  the  original  inn  had  perished 
in  the  Great  Fire.  "  The  character  of  Falstaff," 
says  the  poet,  "  even  with  all  his  faults,  gives  me 
more  consolation  than  the  most  studied  efforts  of 
wisdom.  I  here  behold  an  agreeable  old  fellow 
forgetting  age,  and  showing  me  the  way  to  be  young 
at  sixty-five.  Surely  I  am  well  able  to  be  as  merr}-, 
though  not  so  comical  as  he.  Is  it  not  in  my  power 
to  have,  though  not  so  much  wit,  at  least  as  much 
vivacity  ?  Age,  care,  wisdom,  reflection,  be  gone  ! 
I  give  you  to  the  winds.  Let's  have  t'other  bottle. 
Here's  to  the  memory  of  Shakespeare,  Falstaff,  an4 
all  the  merry  men  of  Eastcheap  | 


562 


OLD  AND   NEW  I.ONDDX.r 


fEastcheap. 


"  Such  were  the  reflections  which  naturally  arose 
while  I  sat  at  the  '  Boar's  Head  Tavern,'  still  kept 
at  Eastcheap.  Here,  by  a  pleasant  fire,  in  the 
very  room  where  old  Sir  John  Falstaff  cracked 
his  jokes,'  in  the  ver>'  chair  which  was  sometimes 
honoured  by  Prince  Henry,  and  sometimes  pol- 
luted by  his  immortal  merry  companions,  I  sat  and 
ruminated  on  the  follies  of  youth,  wished  to  be 
young  again,  but  was  resolved  to  make  the  best  of 
life  whilst  it  lasted,  and  now  and  then  compared 
past  and  present  times  together.  I  considered 
myself  as  the  only  living  representative  of  the  old 
knight,  and  transported  my  imagination  back  t©  the 
times  when  the  Prince  and  he  gave  life  to  the  revel. 
The  room  also  conspired  to  throw  my  reflections 
back  into  antiquity.  The  oak  floor,  the  Gothic 
windows,  and  the  ponderous  chimney-piece  had 
long  withstood  the  tootla  of  time.  The  watchman 
had  gone  twelve.  My  companions  had  all  stolen 
off",  and  none  now  remained  with  me  but  the  land- 
lord. From  him  I  could  have  wished  to  know  the 
history  of  a  tavern  that  had  such  a  long  succession 
of  customers.  I  could  not  help  thinking  that  an 
account  of  this  kind  would  be  a  pleasing  contrast 
of  the  manners  of  different  ages.  But  my  landlord 
could  give  me  no  information.  He  continued  to 
doze  and  sot,  and  tell  a  tedious  stor>-,  as  most  other 
landlords  usually  do,  and,  though  he  said  nothing, 
yet  was  never  silent.  One  good  joke  followed 
another  good  joke ;  and  the  best  joke  of  all  was 
generally  begun  towards  the  end  of  a  bottle.  I 
found  at  last,  however,  his  wine  and  his  conversa- 
tion operate  by  degrees.  He  insensibly  began  to 
alter  his  appearance.  His  cravat  seemed  quilted 
into  a  ruff",  and  his  breeches  swelled  out  into  a 
farthingale.  I  now  fancied  him  changing  sexes  ; 
and  as  my  eyes  began  to  close  in  slumber,  I 
imagined  my  fat  landlord  actually  converted  into 
as  fat  a  landlady.  However,  sleep  made  but  few 
changes  in  my  situation.  The  tavern,  the  apart- 
ment, and  the  table  continued  as  before.  Nothing 
suff"ered  mutation  but  my  host,  who  was  fairly 
altered  into  a  gentlewoman,  whom  I  knew  to  be 
Dame  Quickly,  mistress  of  this  tavern  in  the  days 
of  Sir  John ;  and  the  liquor  we  were  drinking 
seemed  converted  into  sack  and  sugar. 

" '  My  dear  Mrs.  Quickly,'  cried  I  (for  I  knew 
her  perfectly  well  at  first  sight),  *  I  am  heartily 
glad  to  see  you.  How  have  you  left  Falstaff", 
Pistol,  and  the  rest  of  our  friends  below  stairs  ? 
— brave  and  hearty,  I  hope  ?' " 

Years  after  that  amiable  American  writer,  Wash- 
ington Irving,  followed  in  Goldsmith's  steps,  and 
came  to  Eastcheap,  in  181 8,  to  search  for  Falstaff" 
relics ;  and  at  the  "  Masons'  Arms,"  12,  Miles  Lane, 


he  was  shown  a  tobacco-box  and  a  sacramental 
cup  from  St.  Michael's  Church,  which  the  poetical 
enthusiast  mistook  for  a  tavern  goblet. 

"  I  was  presented,"  he  says,  *'  vdth.  a  japanned 
iron  tobacco-box,  of  gigantic  size,  out  of  which,  I 
was  told,  the  vestry  smoked  at  their  stated  meetings 
from  time  immemorial,  and  which  was  never  suff"ered 
to  be  profaned  by  vulgar  hands,  or  used  on  common 
occasions.  I  received  it  with  becoming  reverence  ; 
but  what  was  my  delight  on  beholding  on  its  cover 
the  identical  painting  of  which  I  was  in  quest  I 
There  was  displayed  the  outside  of  the  *  Boar's 
Head  Tavern ; '  and  before  the  door  was  to  be 
seen  the  whole  convivial  group  at  table,  in  full 
revel,  pictured  \\ith  that  wonderful  fidelity  and 
force  with  which  the  portraits  of  renowned  generals 
and  commodores  are  illustrated  on  tobacco-boxes, 
for  the  benefit  of  posterity.  Lest,  however,  there 
should  be  any  mistake,  the  cunning  limner  had 
warily  inscribed  the  names  of  Prince  Hal  and 
Falstaff"  on  the  bottom  of  their  chairs. 

"  On  the  inside  of  the  cover  was  an  inscription, 
nearly  obliterated,  recording  that  the  box  was  the 
gift  of  Sir  Richard  Gore,  for  the  use  of  the  vestry 
meetings  at  the  Boar's  Head  Tavern,  and  that  it 
was  *  repaired  and  beautified  by  his  successor,  Mr, 
John  Packard,  1767.'  Such  is  a  faithful  description 
of  this  august  and  venerable  relic ;  and  I  question 
whether  the  learned  Scriblerius  contemplated  his 
Roman  shield,  or  the  Knights  of  the  Round  Table 
the  long-sought  Saint-greal,  with  more  exultation. 

*'  The  great  importance  attached  to  this  memento 
of  ancient  revelry  (the  cup)  by  modern  church- 
wardens at  first  puzzled  me ;  but  there  is  nothing 
sharpens  the  apprehension  so  much  as  antiquarian 
research ;  for  I  immediately  perceived  that  this 
could  be  no  other  than  the  identical  *  parcel-gilt 
goblet'  on  which  Falstaff"  made  his  loving  but  faith- 
less vow  to  Dame  Quickly ;  and  which  would,  of 
course,  be  treasured  up  with  care  among  the  regalia 
of  her  domains,  as  a  testimony  of  that  solemn 
contract. 

"  '  Thou  didst  swear  to  me  upon  a  parcel-gilt  goblet,  sitting 
in  my  Dolphin  chamber,  at  the  round  table,  by  a  sea-coal 
fire,  on  Wednesday  in  Whitsun-week,  when  the  prince  broke 
thy  head  for  likening  his  father  to  a  singing-man  of  Windsor ; 
thou  didst  swear  to  me  then,  as  I  was  washing  thy  wound, 
to  marry  me,  and  make  me  my  lady,  thy  wife.  Canst  thou 
deny  it?'  {Henry  JV.,  part  ii.) 

" ,  .  .  For  my  part,  I  love  to  give  myself  up 
to  the  illusions  of  poetry.  A  hero  of  fiction,  that 
never  existed,  is  just  as  valuable  to  me  as  a  hero  of 
history  that  existed  a  thousand  years  since ;  and,  if 
I  may  be  excused  such  an  insensibility  to  the  com- 
mon ties  of  human  nature,  I  would  not  give  up  fat 
Jack  for  half  the  great  men  of  ancient  chronicles. 


Eastcheap.] 


FALSTAFF  AND   PRINCE  HAL. 


563 


What  have  the  heroes  of  yore  done  for  me  or  men 
like  me  ?  They  have  conquered  countries  of  which 
I  do  not  enjoy  an  acre ;  or  they  have  gained  laurels 
'  of  whicli  I  do  not  inherit  a  leaf ;  or  they  have  fur- 
nished examples  of  hare-brained  prowess,  which  I 
have  neither  the  opportunity  nor  the  inclination  to 
follow.  But  old  Jack  Falstaff! — kind  Jack  Fal- 
staff!  —  sweet  Jack  Falstaff!  —  has  enlarged  the 
boundaries  of  human  enjoyment ;  he  has  added 
vast  regions  of  wit  and  good  humour,  in  which 
the  poorest  man  may  revel ;  and  has  bequeathed 
a  never-failing  inheritance  of  jolly  laughter,  to 
make  mankind  merrier  and  better  to  the  latest 
posterity." 

The  very  name  of  the  "  Boar's  Head,"  Eastcheap, 
recalls  a  thousand  Shakespearian  recollections ;  for 
here  Falstaff  came  panting  from  Gadshill ;  here  he 
snored  behind  the  arras  while  Prince  Harry  laughed 
over  his  unconscionable  tavern  bill ;  and  here,  too, 
took  place  that  wonderful  scene  where  Falstaff  and 
the  prince  alternately  passed  judgment  on  each 
other's  follies,  Falstaff  acting  the  prince's  father, 
and  Prince  Henry  retorts  by  taking  up  the  same 
part.  As  this  is  one  of  the  finest  efforts  of  Shake- 
speare's comic  genius,  a  short  quotation  from  it,  on 
the  spot  where  the  same  was  supposed  to  take 
place,  will  not  be  out  of  place. 

^* Fal.  Harry,  I  do  not  only  marvel  where  thou  spendest 
thy  time,  but  also  how  thou  art  accompanied  ;  for  though  the 
camomile,  the  more  it  is  trodden  on  the  faster  it  grows,  yet 
youth,  the  more  it  is  wasted  the  more  it  wears.  That  thou 
art  my  son,  I  have  partly  thy  mother's  word,  partly  my  own 
opinion ;  but  chiefly  a  villainous  trick  of  thine  eye,  and  a 
foolish  hanging  of  thy  nether  lip,  that  doth  warrant  me.  If 
then  thou  be  son  to  me,  here  lies  the  point ; — why,  being  son 
to  me,  art  thou  so  pointed  at  ?  Shall  the  blessed  sun  of 
heaven  prove  a  micher,  and  eat  blackberries  ?  a  question 
not  to  be  asked.  Shall  a  son  of  England  prove  a  thief,  and 
take  purses  ?  a  question  to  be  asked.  There  is  a  thing, 
Harry,  which  thou  hast  often  heard  of,  and  it  is  knovm  to 
many  in  our  land  by  the  name  of  pitch.  This  pitch,  as 
ancient  writers  do  report,  doth  defile  :  so  doth  the  company 
thou  keepest ;  for,  Harry,  now  I  do  not  speak  to  thee  in 
drink,  but  in  tears ;  not  in  pleasure,  but  in  passion ;  not  in 
words  only,  but  in  woes  also ; — and  yet  there  is  a  virtuous 
man,  whom  I  have  often  noted  in  thy  company,  but  I  know 
not  his  name. 
,     "  P.  Hen.  What  manner  of  man,  an  it  like  your  Majesty? 

* '  Fal.  A  good  portly  man,  i'  faith,  and  a  corpulent ;  of  a 
cheerful  look,  a  pleasing  eye,  and  a  most  noble  carriage  ; 
and,  as  I  think,  his  age  some  fifty,  or,  by  'r  Lady,  inclining 
to  three  score.  And,  now  I  remember  me,  his  name  is 
Falstaff.  If  that  man  should  be  lewdly  given,  he  deceiveth 
me ;  for,  Henry,  I  see  virtue  in  his  looks.  If,  then,  the  tree 
may  be  known  by  the  fruit,  as  the  fruit  by  the  tree,  then, 
peremptorily  I  speak  it,  there  is  virtue  in  that  Falstaff.  Him 
keep  with  ;  the  rest  banish. 

****** 

"P. Hen.  Swearest  thou,  ungracious  boy?  Hencefoi-th 
ne'er  look  on  me.     Thou  art  violently  carried  away  from 


grace.  There  is  a  devil  haunts  thee,  in  the  likeness  of  a  fat 
old  man  ;  a  tun  of  man  is  thy  companion.  Why  dost  thou 
converse  with  that  trunk  of  humours,  that  bolting  hutch  of 
beastliness,  that  swoln  parcel  of  dropsies,  that  huge  bombard 
of  sack,  that  stuffed  cloak-bag  of  guts,  that  roasted  Manning- 
tree  ox  with  the  pudding  in  his  belly,  that  reverend  vice,  that 
grey  iniquity,  that  father  ruffian,  that  vanity  in  years  ?  Wherein 
is  he  good,  but  to  taste  sack  and  drink  it  ?  Wherein  neat 
and  cleanly,  but  to  carve  a  capon  and  eat  it?  Wherein 
cunning,  but  in  his  craft  ?  Wherein  crafty,  but  in  villany  ? 
Wherein  villanous,  but  in  all  things  ?  Wherein  worthy,  but 
in  nothing  ? 

"Fal.  But  to  say  I  know  more  harm  in  him  than  in  myself 
were  to  say  more  than  I  know.  That  he  is  old  (the  more  the 
pity  !),  his  white  hairs  do  witness  it ;  but  that  he  is  (saving 
your  reverence)  a  whore-master,  that  I  utterly  deny.  If  sack 
and  sugar  be  a  fault,  God  help  the  wicked  !  If  to  be  old  and 
merry  be  a  sin,  then  many  an  old  host  that  I  know  is  damned. 
If  to  be  fat  be  to  be  hated,  then  Pharaoh's  lean  kine  are  to  be 
loved.  No,  my  good  lord  !  Banish  Peto,  banish  Bardolph, 
banish  Poins  ;  but  for  sweet  Jack  Falstaff,  kind  Jack  Falstaff, 
true  Jack  Falstaff,  valiant  Jack  Falstaff,  and  therefore  more 
valiant,  being,  as  he  is,  old  Jack  Falstaff — banish  not  him 
thy  Harry's  company;  banish  not  him  thy  Harry's  company  ! 
Banish  plump  Jack,  and  banish  all  the  world  ! "_ 

"In  Love  Lane,"  says  worthy  Strype,  "on 
the  north-west  corner,  entering  into  Little  East- 
cheap,  is  the  Weigh-house,  built  on  the  ground 
where  the  church  of  St.  Andrew  Hubbard  stood 
before  the  fire  of  1666.  Which  said  Weigh-house 
was  before  in  Cornhill.  In  this  house  are  weighed 
merchandizes  brought  from  beyond  seas  to  the 
king's  beam,  to  which  doth  belong  a  master,  and 
under  him  four  master  porters,  with  labouring 
porters  under  them.  They  have  carts  and  horses 
to  fetch  the  goods  from  the  merchants'  warehouses 
to  the  beam,  and  to  carry  them  back.  The  house 
bclongeth  to  the  Company  of  Grocers,  in  whose 
gift  the  several  porters',  (S:c.,  places  are.  But  of 
late  years  little  is  done  in  this  office,  as  wanting  a 
compulsive  power  to  constrain  the  merchants  to 
have  their  goods  weighed,  they  alleging  it  to  be  an 
unnecessary  trouble  and  charge." 

In  former  times  it  was  the  usual  practice  for 
merchandise  brought  to  London  by  foreign  mer- 
chants to  be  weighed  at  the  king's  beam  in  the 
presence  of  sworn  officials.  The  fees  varied  from 
2d.  to  3s.  a  draught ;  while  for  a  bag  of  hops  the 
uniform  charge  was  6d. 

The  Presbyterian  Chapel  in  the  Weigh-house 
was  founded  by  Samuel  Slater  and  Thomas  Kentish, 
two  divines  driven  by  the  Act  of  Uniformity  from 
St.  Katherine's  in  the  Tower.  The  first -named 
minister,  Slater,  has  distinguished  himself  by  his 
devotion  during  the  dreadful  plague  which  visited 
London  in  1625  (Charles  I.).  Kentish,  of  whom 
Calamy  entertained  a  high  opinion,  had  been  per- 
secuted by  the   Government,      Knowle,   another 


5^4 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


•/ 


fEastcheap. 


minister  of  this  chapel,  had  fled  to  New  England 
to  escape  Laud's  cat-like  gripe.  In  Cromwell's 
time  he  had  been  lecturer  at  Bristol  Cathedral, 
and  had  there  greatly  exasperated  the  Quakers. 
Knowles  and  Kentish  are  said  to  have  been  so 
zealous  as  sometimes  to  preach  till  they  fainted. 
In  Thomas  Reynolds's  time  a  new  chapel  was  built 
at  the  King's  Weigh-house.  Reynolds,  a  friend  of 
the  celebrated  Howe,  had  studied  at  Geneva  and 
at  Utrecht.  He  died  in  1727,  declaring  that, 
though    he    had   hitherto   dreaded  death,  he  was 


with  Sir  H.  Trelawney,  a  young  Cornish  haronet, 
who  became  a  Dissenting  minister,  and  eventually 
joined  the  "  Rational  party."  An  interesting  anec- 
dote is  told  of  Trelawney's  marriage  in  1778.  For 
his  bride  he  took  a  beautiful  girl,  who,  apparentlv 
without  her  lover's  knowledge,  annulled  a  prior 
engagement,  in  order  to  please  her  parents  by 
securing  for  herself  a  more  splendid  station.  The 
spectacle  was  a  gay  one  when,  after  their  honey- 
moon, Sir  Harry  and  his  wife  returned  to  his  seat 
at  Looe,  to  be  welcomed  home  by  his  friend  Clayton 


THE  WEIGH-HOUSE  CHAPEL  (see  page  563). 


rising  to  heaven  on  a  bed  of  roses.  After  the  cele- 
brated quarrel  bet\veen  the  subscribers  and  non-sub- 
scribers, a  controversy  took  place  about  psalmody, 
which  the  Weigh-house  ministers  stoutly  defended. 
Samuel  Wilton,  another  minister  of  Weigh-house 
Chapel,  was  a  pupil  of  Dr.  Kippis,  and  an  apologist 
for  the  War  of  Independence.  John  Clayton, 
chosen  for  this  chapel  in  1779,  was  the  son  of  a 
Lancashire  cotton-bleacher,  and  was  converted  by 
Romaine,  and  patronised  l)y  the  excellent  Countess 
of  Huntingdon  ;  he  used  to  relate  how  he  had 
been  pelted  with  rotten  eggs  when  preaching  in  the 
open  air  near  Christchurch.  While  itinerating  for 
Lady    Huntingdon,    Clayton   became    acquainted 


and  the  servants  of  the  establishment.  The  young 
baronet  proceeded  to  open  a  number  of  letters,  and 
during  the  perusal  of  one  in  particular  his  counte- 
nance changed,  betokening  some  shock  sustained 
by  his  nervous  system.  Evening  wore  into  night, 
but  he  would  neither  eat  nor  converse.  At  length 
he  confessed  to  Clayton  that  he  had  received  an 
affecting  expostulation  from  his  wife's  former  lover, 
who  had  written,  while  ignorant  of  the  marriage, 
calling  on  Trelawney  as  a  gentleman  to  withdraw 
his  claims  on  the  lady's  affections.  This  affair  is 
supposed  to  have  influenced  Sir  Harry  more  or  less 
till  the  end  of  his  days,  although  his  married  life 
continued  to  flow  on  happily. 


The  Monument.] 


WREN'S   DESIGN   FOR   THE  MONUMENT. 


565 


Clayton  was  ordained  at  the  Weigh  House 
Chapel  in  1778  ;  the  church,  with  one  exception, 
unanimously  voted  for  him — the  one  exception,  a 
lady,  afterwards  became  the  new  minister's  wife. 
Of  Clayton  Robert  Hall  said,  "  He  was  the  most 


favoured  man  I  ever  saw  or  ever  heard  of"  He 
died  in  1843.  Clayton's  successor,  the  eloquent 
Thomas  Binney,  was  pastor  of  Weigh  House  Chapel 
for  more  tfian  forty  years.  So  ends  the  chronicle  of 
the  Weigh  House  worthies. 


MILES   covERDALE  {seepage  574). 


CHAPTER   L. 

THE    MONUMENT    AND    ITS    NEIGHBOURHOOD. 

The  Monument — How  shall  it  be  fashioned  ? — Commemorative  Inscriptions — The  Monument's  Place  in  History — Suicides  and  the  Monument— 
The  Great  Fire  of  London — On  the  Top  of  the  Monument  by  Night — The  Source  of  the  Fire — A  Terrible  Description— Miles  Coverdale— St. 
Magnus,  London  Bridge, 


The  Monument,  a  fluted  Doric  column,  raised  to 
commemorate  the  Great  Fire  of  London,  was  de- 
signed by  Wren,  who,  as  usual,  was  thwarted  in 
his  original  intentions.  It  stands  202  feet  from 
the  site  of  the  baker's  house  in  Pudding  Lane 
where  the  fire  first  broke  out.  Wren's  son,  in  his 
"  Parentalia,"  thus  describes  the  difficulties  which 
his  father  met  with  in  carrying  out  his  design^  Says 
4S 


Wren,  Junior :  "  In  the  place  of  the  brass  urn  on  the 
top  (which  is  not  artfully  performed,  and  was  set 
up  contrary  to  his  opinion)  was  originally  intended 
a  colossal  statue  in  brass  gilt  of  King  Charles  II., 
as  founder  of  the  new  City,  in  the  manner  of  the 
Roman  pillars,  which  terminated  with  the  statues 
of  their  Caesars ;  or  else  a  figure  erect  of  a  woman 
crown'd  with  turrets,  holding  a  sword  and  cap  of 


^-566 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Monument. 


maintenanct,  with  other  ensigns  of  the  City's 
grandeur  and  re-erection.  The  altitude  from  the 
pavement  is  202  feet;  the  diameter  of  the  shaft  (or 
body)  of  the  cokimn  is  15  feet ;  the  ground  bounded 
by  the  pUnth  or  lowest  part  of  the  pedestal  is  28 
feet  square,  and  the  pedestal  in  height  is  40  feet. 
Within  is  a  large  staircase  of  black  marble,  con- 
taining 345  steps  io|  inches  broad  and  6  inches 
risers.  Over  the  capital  is  an  iron  balcony  encom- 
passing a  cippus,  or  meta,  32  feet  high,  supporting 
a  blazing  urn  of  brass  gilt.  Prior  to  this  the  sur- 
veyor (as  it  appears  by  an  original  drawing)  had 
made  a  design  of  a  pillar  of  somewhat  less  pro- 
portion— viz.,  14  feet  in  diameter,  and  after  a 
pecuHar  device;  for  as  the  Romans  expressed  by 
relievo  on  the  pedestals  and  round  the  shafts  of 
their  columns  the  history  of  such  actions  and  in- 
cidents as  were  intended  to  be  thereby  commemo- 
rated, so  this  monument  of  the  conflagration  and 
resurrection  of  the  City  of  London  was  represented 
by  a  pillar  in  flames.  The  flames,  blazing  from  the 
loopholes  of  the  shaft  (which  were  to  give  light  to 
the  stairs  within),  were  figured  in  brass-work  gilt ; 
and  on  the  top  was  a  phoenix  rising  from  her  ashes, 
of  brass  gilt  likewise." 

The  following  are,  or  rather  were,  the  inscriptions 
on  the  four  sides  of  the  Monument : — 

,  SOUTH  SIDE. 

"  Charles  the  Second,  son  of  Charles  the  Martyr,  King 
of  Great  Britain,  France,  and  Ireland,  Defender  of  the 
Faith,  a  most  generous  prince,  commiserating  the  deplorable 
state  of  things,  whilst  the  ruins  were  yet  smolcing,  provided 
for  the  comfort  of  his  citizens  and  the  ornament  of  his  city, 
remitted  their  taxes,  and  refeiTcd  the  petitions  of  the  magis- 
trates and  inhabitants  to  the  Parliament,  who  immediately 
passed  an  Act  that  public  works  should  be  restored  to  greater 
beauty  with  public  money,  to  be  raised  by  an  imposition  on 
coals  ;  that  churches,  and  the  Cathedral  of  Saint  Paul,  should 
be  rebuilt  from  their  foundations,  with  all  magnificence  ;  that 
bridges,  gates,  and  prisons  should  be  new  made,  the  sewers 
cleansed,  the  streets  made  straight  and  regular,  such  as  were 
steep  levelled,  and  those  too  narrow  made  wider ;  markets 
and  shambles  removed  to  separate  places.  They  also  enacted 
that  every  house  should  be  built  with  party-walls,  and  all  in 
firont  raised  of  equal  height,  and  those  walls  all  of  square 
stone  or  brick,  and  that  no  man  should  delay  building  beyond 
the  space  of  seven  years.  Moreover,  care  was  taken  by  law 
to  prevent  all  suits  about  their  bounds.  Also  anniversary 
prayers  were  enjoined ;  and  to  perpetuate  the  memory  hereof 
to  posterity^  they  caused  this  column  to  be  erected.  The 
work  was  carried  on  with  diligence,  and  London  is  restored, 
but  whether  with  greater  speed  or  beauty  may  be  made  a 
question.  At  three  years'  time  the  world  saw  that  finished 
which  was  supposed  to  be  the  business  of  an  age. " 

NORTH  SIDE. 

"  In  the  year  of  Christ  1666,  the  second  day  of  September, 
eastward  from  hence,  at  the  distance  of  two  hundred  and  two 
feet  (the  height  of  this  column),  about  midnight,  a  most  ter- 
rible fire  broke  out,  which,  driven  on  by  a  high  wind,  not 
only  wasted  the  adjacent  parts,  but  also  places  very  remote, 


with  incredible  noise  and  fury.  It  consumed  eighty-nine 
churches,  the  City  gates,  Guildhall,  many  public  structures, 
hospitals,  schools,  libraries,  a  vast  number  of  stately  edifices, 
thirteen  thousand  two  hundred  dwelling-houses,  four  hundred 
streets.  Of  the  six-and-twenty  wards  it  utterly  destroyed 
fifteen,  and  left  eight  others  shattered  and  lialf  burnt.  The 
ruins  of  the  City  were  four  hundred  and  thirty-six  acres,  from 
the  Tower  by  the  Thames  side  to  the  Temple  Church,  and 
from  the  north-east  along  the  City  wall  to  Holbom  Bridge. 
To  the  estates  and  fortunes  of  the  citizens  it  was  merciless, 
but  to  their  lives  very  favourable,  that  it  might  in  all  things 
resemble  the  last  conflagration  of  the  world.  The  destruc- 
tion was  sudden,  for  in  a  small  space  of  time  the  City  was 
seen  most  flourishing,  and  reduced  to  nothing.  Three  days 
after,  when  this  fatal  fire  had  baflled  all  human  counsels  and 
endeavours  in  the  opinion  of  all,  it  stopped  as  it  were  by  a 
command  from  Heaven,  and  was  on  every  side  extinguished." 

EAST   SIDE. 
"  This  pillar  was  begim, 
Sir  Richard  Ford,  Knight,  being  Lord  Mayor  of  London, 
In  the  year  1671, 
Carried  on 
In  the  Mayoralties  of 
Sir  George  Waterman,  Kt. 
Sir  Robert  Hanson,  Kt. 
Sir  William  Plooker,  Kt.     ^   Lord  Mayors, 
Sir  Robert  Viner,  Kt. 
Sir  Joseph  Sheldon,  Kt. 

And  finished. 
Sir  Thomas  Davies  being  Lord  Mayor,  in  the  year  1677." 

WEST  SIDE. 
"  This  pillar  was  set  up  in  perjDetual  remembrance  of  the 
most  dreadful  burning  of  this  Protestant  city,  begun  and 
carried  on  by  the  treachery  and  malice  of  the  Popish  faction, 
in  the  beginning  of  September,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord 
MDCLXVL,  in  order  to  the  effecting  their  horrid  plot  for  ' 
the  extirpating  the  Protestant  religion  and  English  liberties, 
and  to  introduce  Popery  and  slavery." 

"The  basis  of  the  monument,"  says  Strype,  "on 
that  side  toward  the  street,  hath  a  representation  of 
the  destruction  of  the  City  by  the  Fire,  and  the 
restitution  of  it,  by  several  curiously  engraven  figures 
in  full  proportion.  First  is  the  figure  of  a  woman 
representing  London,  sitting  on  ruins,  in  a  most 
disconsolate  posture,  her  head  hanging  down,  and 
her  hair  all  loose  about  her;  the  sword  lying  by 
her,  and  her  left  hand  carefully  laid  upon  it.  A 
second  figure  is  Time,  with  his  wings  and  bald 
head,  coming  behind  her  and  gently  lifting  her  up. 
Another  female  figure  on  the  side  of  her,  laying  her 
hand  upon  her,  and  with  a  sceptre  winged  in  her 
other  hand,  directing  her  to  look  upwards,  for  it 
points  up  to  two  beautiful  goddesses  sitting  in  the 
clouds,  one  leaning  upon  a  cornucopia,  denoting 
Plenty,  the  other  having  a  palm-branch  in  her 
left  hand,  signifying  Victory,  or  Triumph.  Un- 
derneath this  figure  of  London  in  the  midst  of  the  ; 
ruins  is  a  dragon  with  his  paw  upon  the  shield  of  ; 
a  red  cross,  London's  arms.  Over  her  head  is  the  • 
description  of  houses  burning,  and  flames  breaking 


The  Monument.] 


THE   MONUxMENT'S   PLACE   IN   HISTORY. 


56^7 


out  through  the  windows.     Behind  her  are  citizens 
looking  on,  and  some  Hfting  up  their  hands. 

"  Opposite  against  these  figures  is  a  pavement 
of  stone  raised,  with  three  or  four  steps,  on  which 
appears  King  Charles  II.,  in  Roman  habit,  with  a 
truncheon  in  his  right  hand  and  a  laurel  about  his 
head,  coming  towards  the  woman  in  the  foresaid 
despairing  posture,  and  giving  orders  to  three 
others  to  descend  the  steps  towards  her.  The 
first  hath  wings  on  her  head,  and  in  her  hand  some- 
thing resembling  a  harp.  Then  another  figure  of 
one  going  down  the  steps  following  her,  resembling 
Architecture,  showing  a  scheme  or  model  for  build- 
ing of  the  City,  held  in  the  right  hand,  and  the 
left  holding  a  square  and  compasses.  Behind  these 
two  stands  another  figure,  more  obscure,  holding  up 
an  hat,  denoting  Liberty,  Next  behind  the  king 
is  the  Duke  of  York,  holding  a  garland,  ready  to 
crown  the  rising  City,  and  a  sword  lifted  up  in  the 
other  hand  to  defend  her.  Behind  this  a  third 
figure,  with  an  earl's  coronet  on  his  head.  A  fourth 
figure  behind  all,  holding  a  lion  with  a  bridle  in  his 
mouth.  Over  these  figures  is  represented  an  house 
in  building,  and  a  labourer  going  up  a  ladder  with 
an  hodd  upon  his  back.  Lastly,  underneath  the 
stone  pavement  whereon  the  king  stands  is  a  good 
figure  of  Envy  peeping  forth,  gnawing  a  heart." 

The  bas-relief  on  the  pediment  of  the  Monument 
was  carved  by  a  Danish  sculptor,  Caius  Gabriel 
Cibber,  the  father  of  the  celebrated  comedian  and 
comedy  writer  Colley  Cibber;  the  four  dragons 
at  the  four  angles  are  by  Edward  Pierce.  The 
Latin  inscriptions  were  written  by  Dr.  Gale,  Dean 
of  York,  and  the  whole  structure  was  erected  in  six 
years,  for  the  sum  of  ;^i3,7oo.  The  paragraphs 
denouncing  Popish  incendiaries  were  not  written 
by  Gale,  but  were  added  in  1681,  during  the  mad- 
ness of  the  Popish  plot.  They  were  obliterated  by 
James  II.,  but  cut  again  deeper  than  before  in  the 
reign  of  William  III.,  and  finally  erased  in  1831, 
to  the  great  credit  of  the  Common  Council. 

Wren  at  first  intended  to  have  had  flames  of 
gilt  brass  coming  out  of  every  loop-hole  of  the 
Monument,  and  on  the  top  a  phcenix  rising  from 
the  flames,  also  in  brass  gilt.  He  eventually 
abandoned  this  idea,  partly  on  account  of  the  ex- 
pense, and  also  because  the  spread  wings  of  the 
phcenix  would  present  too  much  resistance  to  the 
wind.  Moreover,  the  fabulous  bird  at  that  height 
would  not  have  been  understood.  Charles  II. 
preferred  a  gilt  ball,  and  the  present  vase  of  flames 
was  then  decided  on.  Defoe  compares  the  Monu- 
ment to  a  lighted  candle. 

The  Monument  is  loftier  than  the  pillars  of 
Trajan  and  Antoninus,  at  Rome,  or  that  of  Theo- 


dosius  at  Constantinople ;  and  it  is  not  only  the 
loftiest,  but  also  the  finest  isolated  column  in  the 
world. 

It  was  at  first  used  by  the  members  of  the  Royal 
Society  for  astronomical  purposes,  but  was  aban- 
doned on  account  of  its  vibration  being  too  great 
for  the  nicety  required  in  their  observations.  Hence 
the  report  that  the  Monument  is  unsafe,  which  has 
been  revived  in  our  time  ;  "  but,"  says  Elwes,  "  its 
scientific  construction  may  bid  defiance  to  the 
attacks  of  all  but  earthquakes  for  centuries  to 
come."  , 

A  large  print  of  the  Monument  represents  the 
statue  of  Charles  placed,  for  comparative  effect, 
beside  a  sectional  view  of  the  apex,  as  constructed. 
Wren's  autograph  report  on  the  designs  for  the 
summit  were  added  to  the  MSS.  in  the  British 
Museum  in  1852.  A  model,  scale  one-eighth  of  an 
inch  to  the  foot,  of  the  scaffolding  used  in  building 
the  Monument  is  preserved.  It  fiarmerly  belonged 
to  Sir  William  Chambers,  and  was  presented  by 
Heathcote  Russell,  C.E.,  to  the  late  Sir  Isambard 
Brunei,  who  left  it  to  his  son,  Mr.  I.  K.  Brunei. 
The  ladders  were  of  the  rude  construction  of 
Wren's  time — two  uprights,  with  treads  or  rounds 
nailed  on  the  face. 

On  June  15,  1825,  the  Monument  was  illumi- 
nated with  portable  gas,  in  commemoration  of 
laying  the  first  stone  of  New  London  Bridge.  A 
lamp  was  placed  at  each  of  the  loop-holes  of 
the  column,  to  give  the  idea  of  its  being  wreathed 
with  flame  ;  whilst  two  other  series  were  placed  on 
the  edges  of  the  gallery,  to  which  the  public  were 
admitted  during  the  evening. 

Certain  spots  in  London  have  become  popular 
with  suicides,  yet  apparently  without  any  special 
reason,  except  that  even  suicides  are  vain  and  like 
to  die  with  ec/aA  Waterloo  Bridge  is  chosen  for 
its  privacy ;  the  Monument  used  to  be  chosen, 
we  presume,  for  its  height  and  quietude.  Five 
persons  have  destroyed  themselves  by  leaps  from 
the  Monument.  The  first  of  these  unhappy  crea- 
tures was  William  Green,  a  weaver,  in  1750.  On 
June  25  this  man,  wearing  a  green  apron,  the  sign 
of  his  craft,  came  to  the  Monument  door,  and  left 
his  watch  with  the  doorkeeper.  A  few  minutes 
after  he  was  heard  to  fall.  Eighteen  guineas  were 
found  in  his  pocket.  The  next  man  who  fell  from 
the  Monument  was  Thomas  Craddock,  a  baker. 
He  was  not  a  suicide ;  but,  in  reaching  over  to  see 
an  eagle  which  was  hung  in  a  cage  from  the  bars, 
he  overbalanced  himself,  and  was  killed.  The  next 
victim  was  Lyon  Levi,  a  Jew  diamond  merchant  in 
embarrassed  circumstances,  who  destroyed  himself 
on  the  18th  of  January,  18 10.     The  third  suicide 


568 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Monument. 


(September  ii,  1839)  was  a  young  woman  named 
Margaret  Meyer.  This  poor  girl  was  the  daughter 
of  a  baker  in  Hemming's  Row,  St.  Martin's-in- 
the-Fields.  Her  mother  was  dead,  her  father 
bed-ridden,  and  there  being  a  large  family,  it  had 
become  necessary  for  her  to  go  out  to  service, 
which  preyed  upon  her  mind.  The  October  fol- 
lowing, a  boy  named  Hawes,  who  had  been  that 
morning  discharged  by  his  master,  a  surgeon, 
threw  himself  from  the  same  place.  He  was  of 
unsoimd  mind,  and  his  father  had  killed  himself. 
The  last  suicide  was  in  August,  1842,  when  a 
servant-girl  from  Hoxton,  named  Jane  Cooper, 
while  the  watchman  had  his  head  turned,  nimbly 
climbed  over  the  iron  railing,  tucked  her  clothes 
tight  between  her  knees,  and  dived  head- fore- 
most downwards.  In  her  fall  she  struck  the 
griffin  on  the  right  side  of  the  base  of  the  Monu- 
ment, and,  rebounding  into  the  road,  cleared  a 
cart  in  the  fall.  The  cause  of  this  act  was  not 
discovered.  Suicides  being  now  fashionable  here, 
the  City  of  London  (not  a  moment  too  soon) 
caged  in  the  top  of  the  Monument  in  the  present 
ugly  way. 

The  Rev.  Samuel  Rolle,  writing  of  the  Great  Fire 
in  1667,  says — "  If  London  its  self  be  not  the  doleful 
monument  of  its  own  destruction,  by  always  lying 
in  ashes  (which  God  forbid  it  should),  it  is  provided 
for  by  Act  of  Parliament,  that  after  its  restauration, 
a  pillar,  either  of  brass  or  stone,  should  be  erected, 
in  perpetual  memory  of  its  late  most  dismall  confla- 
gration." 

"  Where  the  fire  began,  there,  or  as  near  as  may 
be  to  that  place,  must  the  pillar  be  erected  (if  ever 
there  be  any  such).  If  we  commemorate  the  places 
where  our  miseries  began,  surely  the  causes  whence 
they  sprang  (the  meritorious  causes,  or  sins,  are 
those  I  now  intend)  should  be  thought  of  much 
more.  If  such  a  Lane  burnt  London,  sin  first  burnt 
that  Lane ;  causa ^  causa  est  causa  causatio;  affliction 
springs  not  out  of  the  dust;  not  but  that  it  may 
spring  thence  immediately  (as  if  the  dust  of  the 
earth  should  be  turned  into  lice),  but  primarily  and 
originally  it  springs  up  elsewhere. 

"As  for  the  inscription  that  ought  to  be  upon 
that  pillar  (whether  of  brass  or  stone),  I  must  leave 
it  to  their  piety  and  prudence,  to  whom  the  wisdom 
of  the  Parliament  hath  left  it ;  only  three  things  I 
.both  wish  and  hope  concerning  it.  The  first  is, 
that  it  may  be  very  humble,  giving  God  the  glory 
of  his  righteous  judgments,  and  taking  to  ourselves 
the  shame  of  our  great  demerits.  Secondly,  that 
the  confession  which  shall  be  there  engraven  may 
be  as  impartial  as  the  judgement  itself  was ;  not 
charging  the  guilt  for  which  that  fire  came  upon  a 


few  only,  but  acknowledging  that  all  have  smned, 
as  all  have  been  punished.  Far  be  it  from  any  man 
to  say  that  his  sins  did  not  help  to  burn  London, 
that  cannot  say  also  (and  who  that  is  I  know  not) 
that  neither  he  nor  any  of  his  either  is,  or  are  ever 
like  to  be,  anything  the  worse  for  that  dreadful  fire. 
Lastly,  whereas  some  of  the  same  religion  with 
those  that  did  hatch  the  Powder-Plot  are,  and  have 
been,  vehemently  suspected  to  have  been  the  incen- 
diaries, by  whose  means  London  was  burned,  I 
earnestly  desire  that  if  time  and  further  discovery 
be  able  to  acquit  them  from  any  such  guilt,  that 
pillar  may  record  their  innocency,  and  may  make 
themselves  as  an  iron  pillar  or  brazen  wall  (as  I 
may  allude  to  Jer.  i.  18)  against  all  the  accusations 
of  those  that  suspect  them ;  but  if,  in  deed  and  in 
truth,  that  fire  either  came  or  was  carried  on  and 
continued  by  their  treachery,  that  the  inscription  of 
the  pillar  may  consigne  over  their  names  to  per- 
petual hatred  and  infamy." 

"  Then  was  God  to  his  people  as  a  shadow  from 
the  heat  of  the  rage  of  their  enemies,  as  a  wall  of 
fire  for  their  protection ;  but  this  pillar  calls  that 
time  to  remembrance,  in  which  God  covered  himself, 
as  with  a  cloud,  that  the  prayers  of  Londoners 
should  not  passe  unto  him,  and  came  forth,  not  as 
a  conserving,  but  as  a  consuming  fire,  not  for,  but 
against,  poor  London." 

Roger  North,  in  his  Life  of  Sir  Dudley,  men- 
tions the  Monument  when  still  in  its  first  bloom. 
"  He  (Sir  Dudley  North),"  he  says,  "  took  pleasure 
in  surveying  the  Monument,  and  comparing  it  with 
mosque-towers,  and  what  of  that  kind  he  had  seen 
abroad.  We  mounted  up  to  the  top,  and  one  after 
another  crept  up  the  hollow  iron  frame  that  carries 
the  copper  head  and  flames  above.  We  went  out 
at  a  rising  plate  of  iron  that  hinged,  and  there 
found  convenient  irons  to  hold  by.  We  made  use 
of  them,  and  raised  our  bodies  entirely  above  the 
flames,  having  only  our  legs  to  the  knees  within ; 
and  there  we  stood  till  we  were  satisfied  with  the 
prospect  from  thence.  I  cannot  describe  how  hard 
it  was  to  persuade  ourselves  we  stood  safe,  so  likely 
did  our  weight  seem  to  throw  down  the  whole 
fabric." 

Addison  takes  care  to  show  his  Tory  fox- 
hunter  the  famed  Monument.  "  We  repaired," 
says  the  amiable  essayist,  "to  the  Monument, 
where  my  fellow-traveller  (the  Tory  fox-hunter), 
being  a  well-breathed  man,  mounted  the  ascent 
with  much  speed  and  activity.  I  was  forced  to 
halt  so  often  in  this  particular  march,  that,  upon 
my  joining  him  on  the  top  of  the  pilfer,  I  found 
he  had  counted  all  the  steeples  and  towers  which 
were  discernible  from  this  advantageous  situation, 


The  Monument.] 


A  NIGHT  ON  THE  MONUMENT. 


569 


and  was  endeavouring  to  compute  the  number  of 
acres  they  stood  on.     We  were  both  of  us  very- 
well  pleased  with  this  part  of  the  prospect ;  but  I 
found  he  cast  an  evil  eye  upon  several  warehouses 
and  other  buildings,  which  looked  like  bams,  and 
seemed  capable  of  receiving  great  multitudes  of 
people.     His  heart  misgave  him  that  these  were  so 
many  meeting-houses ;   but,  upon  communicating 
his  suspicions  to  me,  I  soon  made  him  easy  in  that 
particular.     We  then  turned   our   eyes   upon  the 
river,  which  gave  me  an  occasion  to  inspire  him 
with  some  favourable  thoughts  of  trade  and  mer- 
chandise, that  had  filled  the  Thames  with  such 
crowds  of  ships,  and  covered  the  shore  with  such 
swarms  of  people.     We  descended  very  leisurely, 
my  friend  being  careful  to  count  the  steps,  which 
he  registered  in  a  blank  leaf  of  his  new  almanack. 
Upon   our  coming   to  the  bottom,  observing  an 
English  inscription  upon  the  basis,  he  read  it  over 
.several  times,  and  told  me  he  could  scarce  believe 
his  o^vn  eyes,  for  he  had  often  heard  from  an  old 
attorney  who  lived  near  him  in  the  country  that  it 
was  the  Presbyterians  who  burnt  down  the  City, 
*  whereas,'  says  he,  '  the  pillar  positively  affirms, 
in  so  many  words,  that  the  burning  of  this  antient 
city  was  begun  and  carried  on  by  the  treachery 
and  malice  of  the  Popish  faction,  in  order  to  the 
carrying  on  their  horrid  plot  for  extirpating   the 
Protestant  religion  and  old  English  liberty,  and 
introducing  Popery  and  slavery.'    This   account, 
which  he  looked  upon  to  be  more  authentic  than 
if  it  had  been  in  print,  I  found,  made  a  very  great 
impression  upon  him." 

Ned  Ward  is  very  severe  on  the  Monument. 
"  As  you  say,  this  edifice,"  he  says,  "  as  well  as 
some  others,  was  projected  as  a  memorandum  of 
the  Fire,  or  an  ornament  to  the  City,  but  gave 
those  corrupted  magistrates  that  had  the  power 
in  their  hands  the  opportunity  of  putting  two  thou- 
sand pounds  into  their  own  pockets,  whilst  they  paid 
one  towards  the  building.  I  must  confess,  all  I  think 
can  be  spoke  in  praise  of  it  is,  'tis  a  monument  to 
the  City's  sJiame,  the  orphan^ s  griefs  the  Protestant's 
pride,  and  the  Papisfs  scandal ;  and  only  serves  as 
a  high-cro'w?ied  hat,  to  cover  the  head  of  the  old 
fellow  that  shows  if'' 

Pope-,  as  a  Catholic,  looked  with  horror  on  the 
Monument,  and  wrote  bitterly  of  it — 

"  Where  London's  Column,  pointing  at  the  skies, 
Like  a  tall  bully,  lifts  the  head  and  lies, 
There  dwelt  a  citizen  of  sober  fame, 
A  plain  good  man,  and  Balaam  was  his  name." 

"At  the  end  of  Littleton's  Dictionary,"  says 
Southey,  "  is  an  inscription  for  the  Monument, 
wherein  this  very  learned  scholar  proposes  a  name  ( 


for  it  worthy,  for  its  length,  of  a  Sanscrit  legend. 
It  is  a  word  which  extends  through  seven  degrees 
of  longitude,  being  designed  to  commemorate  the 
names  of  the  seven  Lord  Mayors  of  London  under 
whose  respective  mayoralties  the  Monument  was 
begun,  continued,  and  completed  : — ■ 

"  '  Quam    non    una    aliqua    ac   simplici  voce,    uti   istam 
quondam  Duilianam; 
Sed,  ut  vero  earn  nomine  indigites,  vocabulo  construc- 

tiliter  Heptastico, 
Fordo — Watermanno — Hansono — Hookero — 
ViNERO — Sheldono — Davisianam 
Appellare  opportebit. ' 

"Well  might  Adam  Littleton  call  this  an  hep- 
tastic  vocable,  rather  than  a  word."  (Southey, 
"Oraniana.") 

Mr.  John  HoUingshead,  an  admirable  modem 
essayist,  in  a  chapter  in  "  Under  Bow  Bells,"  en- 
titled "  A  Night  on  the  Monument,"  has  given  a 
most  powerful  sketch  of  night,  moonlight,  and  day- 
break from  the  top  of  the  Monument.  "The 
puppet  men,"  he  says,  "now  hurry  to  and  fro, 
lighting  up  the  puppet  shops,  which  cast  a  warm, 
rich  glow  upon  the  pavement.  A  cross  of  dotted 
lamps  springs  into  light,  the  four  arms  of  which 
are  the  four  great  thoroughfares  from  the  City. 
Red  lines  of  fire  come  out  behind  black,  solid, 
sullen  masses  of  building ;  and  spires  of  churches 
stand  out  in  strong,  dark  relief  at  the  side  of  busy 
streets.  Up  in  the  housetops,  under  green-shaded 
lamps,  you  may  see  the  puppet  clerks  turning 
quickly  over  the  clean,  white,  fluttering  pages  of 
puppet  day-books  and  ledgers ;  and  from  east  to 
west  you  see  the  long,  silent  river,  glistening  here 
and  there  with  patches  of  reddish  light,  even 
through  the  looped  steeple  of  the  Church  of  St. 
Magnus  the  Martyr.  Then,  in  a  white  circle  of 
light  round  the  City,  dart  out  little  nebulous 
clusters  of  houses,  some  of  them  high  up  in  the 
air,  mingling,  in  appearance,  with  the  stars  of 
heaven ;  some  with  one  lamp,  some  with  two  or 
more  \  some  yellow,  and  some  red ;  and  some 
looking  like  bunches  of  fiery  grapes  in  the  con- 
gress of  twinkling  suburbs.  Then  the  bridges 
throw  up  their  arched  lines  of  lamps,  like  the 
illuminated  garden-walks  at  Cremorne.     .     .     . 

"The  moon  has  now  increased  in  power,  and, 
acting  on  the  mist,  brings  out  the  surrounding 
churches  one  by  one.  There  they  stand  in  the 
soft  light,  a  noble  army  of  temples  thickly  sprin- 
kled amongst  the  money-changers.  Any  taste  may 
be  suited  in  stractural  design.  There  are  high 
churches,  low  churches  ;  flat  churches  ;  broad 
churches,  narrow  churches ;  square,  round,  and 
pointed    churches  ;    churches    with    towers    like 


570 


OLD   AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Monument. 


cubical  slabs  sunk  deeply  in  between  the  roofs  of 
houses ;  towers  like  toothpicks,  like  three-pronged 
forks,  like  pepper-casters,  like  factory  chimneys, 
like  limekilns,  like  a  sailor's  trousers  hung  up  to 
dry,  like  bottles  of  fish-sauce,  and  like  St.  Paul's — 
a  balloon  turned  topsy-turvy.     There  they  stand, 


out  of  the  land,  and  the  bridges  come  up  out  of 
the  water.  The  bustle  of  commerce,  and  the  roar 
of  the  great  human  ocean — which  has  never  been 
altogether  silent— revive.  The  distant  turrets  of 
the  Tower,  and  the  long  line  of  shipping  on  the 
river,  become  visible.     Clear  smoke  still  flows  over 


wren's  original  design  for  the  summit  of  the  monument  {see  page  565). 


like  giant  spectral  watchmen  guarding  the  silent 
city,  whose  beating  heart  still  murmurs  in  its  sleep. 
At  the  hour  of  midnight  they  proclaim,  with  iron 
tongue,  the  advent  of  a  New  Year,  mingling  a  song 
of  joy  with  a  wail  for  the  departed.     .     .     . 

"  The   dark  grey  churches  and   houses   spring 
into  existence  one  by  one.     The  streets  come  up 


the  housetops,  softening  their  outlines,  and  turning 
them  into  a  forest  of  frosted  trees. 

"  Above  all  this  is  a  long  black  mountain-ridge 
of  cloud,  tipped  with  glittering  gold ;  beyond  float 
deep  orange  and  light  yellow  ridges,  bathed  in  a 
faint  purple  sea.  Through  the  black  ridge  struggles 
a  full,  rich,  purple  sun,  the  lower  half  of  his  disc 


The  Monument.'] 


A  NIGHT  ON  THE   MONUMENT. 


571 


THE   MONUMENT  AND   THE   CHURCH   OF   ST.  MAGNUS,  ABOUT    iSoO.     {Prom  an  Old  View.) 


572 


OLD  AND  NEW  LONDON. 


[The  Monument. 


tinted  with  grey.  Gradually,  like  blood-red  wine 
running  into  a  round  bottle,  the  purple  overcomes 
the  grey ;  and  at  the  same  time  the  black  cloud 
divides  the  face  of  the  sun  into  two  sections,  like 
the  visor  of  a  harlequin." 

In  1732  a  sailor  is  recorded  to  have  slid  down  a 
rope  from  the  gallery  to  the  "  Tliree  Tuns  "  tavern, 
Gracechurch  Street ;  as  did  also,  next  day,  a  water- 
man's boy.  In  the  Times  newspaper  of  August  2  2, 
1827,  there  appeared  the  following  hoaxing  adver- 
tisement :  "  Incredible  as  it  may  appear,  a  person 
will  attend  at  the  Monument,  and  will,  for  the  sum 
of  ;^2,5oo,  undertake  to  jump  clear  off  the  said 
Monument ;"  and  in  coming  down  will  drink  some 
beer  and  eat  a  cake,  act  some  trades,  shorten  and 
make  sail,  and  bring  ship  safe  to  anchor.  As  soon 
as  the  sum  stated  is  collected,  the  performance  will 
take  place ;  and  if  not  performed,  the  money  sub- 
scribed to  be  returned  to  the  subscribers." 

The  Great  Fire  of  1666  broke  out  at  the  shop 
of  one  Farryner,  the  king's  baker,  25,  Pudding 
Lane.  The  following  inscription  was  placed  by 
some  zealous  Protestants  over  the  house,  when 
rebuilt : — '*  Here,  by  the  permission  of  Heaven, 
Hell  broke  loose  upon  this  Protestant  city,  from 
the  malicious  hearts  of  barbarous  priests,  by  the 
hand  of  their  agent,  Hubert,  who  confessed  and 
on  the  ruins  of  this  place  declared  the  fact  for 
which  he  was  hanged — viz.,  that  here  begun  that 
dreadful  fire  which  is  described  on  and  perpetuated 
by  the  neighbouring  pillar,  erected  anno  1681,  in 
the  mayoralty  of  Sir  Patience  Ward,  Kt." 

This  celebrated  inscription  (says  Cunningham), 
set  up  pursuant  to  an  order  of  the  Court  of  Com- 
mon Council,  June  17th,  1681,  was  removed  in 
the  reign  of  James  II.,  replaced  in  the  reign  of 
William  III.,  and  finally  taken  down,  "  on  account 
of  the  stoppage  of  passengers  to  read  it."  Entick, 
who  made  additions  to  Maitland  in  1756,  speaks 
of  it  as  "  lately  taken  away." 

The  Fire  was  for  a  long  time  attributed  to 
Hubert,  a  crazed  French  Papist  of  five  or  six  and 
twenty  years  of  age,  the  son  of  a  watchmaker  at 
Rouen,  in  Normandy.  He  was  seized  in  Essex, 
confessed  he  had  begun  the  fire,  and  persisting  in 
his  confession  to  his  death,  was  hanged,  upon  no 
other  evidence  than  that  of  his  own  confession. 
He  stated  in  his  examination  that  he  had  been 
"  suborned  at  Paris  to  this  action,"  and  that  there* 
were  three  more  combined  to  do  the  same  thing. 
They  asked  him  if  he  knew  the  place  where  he 
had  first  put  fire.  He  answered  that  he  "  knew 
it  very  Avell,  and  would  show  it  to  anybody."  He 
was  then  ordered  to  be  blindfolded  and  carried  to 
several  places  of  the   City,  that  he  might  point 


out  the  house.  They  first  led  him  to  a  place  at 
some  distance  from  it,  opened  his  eyes,  and  asked 
him  if  that  was  it,  to  which  he  answered,  "  No,  it 
was  lower,  nearer  to  the  Thames."  '*  The  house 
and  all  which  were  near  it,"  says  Clarendon,  "  were 
so  covered  and  buried  in  ruins,  that  the  owners 
themselves,  without  some  infallible  mark,  could 
very  hardly  have  said  where  their  o^vn  houses  had 
.stood  ;  but  this  man  led  them  directly  to  the  place, 
described  how  it  stood,  the  shape  of  the  little  yard, 
the  fashion  of  the  doors  and  windows,  and  where 
he  first  put  the  fire,  and  all  this  with  such  exact- 
ness, that  they  who  had  dwelt  long  near  it  could 
not  so  perfectly  have  ""described  all  particulars." 
Tillotson  told  Burnet  that  Howell,  the  then  re- 
corder of  London,  accompanied  Hubert  on  this 
occasion,  "  was  with  him,  and  had  much  discourse 
with  him  ;  and  that  he  concluded  it  was  impossible 
it  could  be  a  melancholy  dream."  This,  however, 
was  not  the  opinion  of  the  judges  who  tried  him. 
"  Neither  the  judges,"  says  Clarendon,  "  nor  any 
present  at  the  trial,  did  believe  him  guilty,  but  that 
he  was  a  poor  distracted  wretch,  weary  of  his  life^ 
and  chose  to  part  with  it  this  way." 

A  few  notes  about  the  Great  Fire  will  here  be 
interesting.  Pepys  gives  a  graphic  account  of  its 
horrors.  In  one  place  he  writes — "  Everybody 
endeavouring  to  remove  their  goods,  and  flinging 
into  the  river,  or  bringing  them  into  lighters  that 
lay  off;  poor  people  sta)dng  in  their  houses  as  long 
as  till  the  very  fire  touched  them,  and  then  running 
into  boats,  or  clambering  from  one  pair  of  stairs 
by  the  waterside  to  another.  And,  among  other 
things,  the  poor  pigeons,  I  perceive,  were  loth  to 
leave  their  houses,  but  hovered  about  the  windows 
and  balconys  till  they  burned  their  wings  and  fell 
do^vn.  Having  staid,  and  in  an  hour's  time  seen 
the  fire  rag^  every  way,  and  nobody,  to  my  sight, 
endeavouring  to  quench  it,  but  to  remove  their 
goods  and  leave  all  to  the  fire." 

But  by  far  the  most  vivid  conception  of  the  Fire 
is  to  be  found  in  a  religious  book  written  by  the 
Rev.  Samuel  Vincent,  who  expresses  the  feelings  of 
the  moment  with  a  singular  force.  Says  the  writer : 
"It  was  the  2nd  of  September,  1666,  that  the 
anger  of  the  Lord  was  kindled  against  London, 
and  the  fire  began.  It  began  in  a  baker's  house 
in  Pudding  Lane,  by  Fish  Street  Hill ;  and  now 
the  Lord  is  making  London  like  a  fiery  oven  in  the 
time  of  his  anger  (Psalm  xxi.  9),  and  in  his  wrath 
doth  devour  and  swalloAV  up  our  habitations.  It 
was  in  the  depth  and  dead  of  the  night,  when 
most  doors  and  senses  were  lockt  up  in  the  City, 
that  the  fire  doth  break  forth  and  appear  aoroad, 
and  like  a  mighty  giant  refresht  with  wine  doth 


The  Monument.] 


MILES  COVERDALE. 


573 


awake  and  arm  itself,  quickly  gathers  strength, 
when  it  had  made  havoc  of  some  houses,  rusheth 
down  the  hill  towards  the  bridge,  crosseth  Thames 
Street,  invadeth  Magnus  Church  at  the  bridge  foot, 
and,  though  that  church  were  so  great,  yet  it  was 
not  a  sufficient  barricade  against  this  conqueror; 
but  having  scaled  and  taken  this  fort,  it  shooteth 
flames  with  so  much  the  greater  advantage  into  all 
places  round  about,  and  a  great  building  of  houses 
upon  the  bridge  is  quickly  thrown  to  the  ground. 
Then  the  conqueror,  being  stayed  in  his  course  at 
the  bridge,  marcheth  back  towards  the  City  again, 
and  runs  along  with  great  noise  and  violence 
through  Thames  Street  westward,  where,  having 
such  combustible  matter  in  its  teeth,  and  such  a 
fierce  wind  upon  its  back,  it  prevails  with  little  re- 
sistance, unto  the  astonishment  of  the  beholders. 

"My  business  is  not  to  speak  of  the  hand  of 
man,  which  was  made  use  of  in  the  beginning  and 
carrying  on  of  this  fire.  The  beginning  of  the 
tfire  at  such  a  time,  when  there  had  been  so  much 
hot  weather,  which  had  dried  the  houses  and  made 
them  more  fit  for  fuel ;  the  beginning  of  it  in  such 
a  place,  where  there  were  so  many  timber  houses, 
and  the  shops  filled  with  so  much  combustible 
matter ;  and  the  beginning  of  it  just  when  the  wind 
did  blow  so  fiercely  upon  that  comer  towards  the 
rest  of  the  City,  which  then  was  like  tinder  to  the 
spark  •  this  doth  smell  of  a  Popish  design,  hatcht 
in  the  same  place  where  the  Gunpowder  Plot  was 
contrived,  only  that  this  was  more  successful. 

"  Then,  then  the  City  did  shake  indeed,  and  the 
inhabitants  flew  away  in  great  amazement  from  their 
houses,  lest  the  flame  should  devour  them.  Rattle, 
rattle,  rattle,  was  the  noise  which  the  fire  struck 
upon  the  ear  round  about,  as  if  there  had  been  a 
thousand  iron  chariots  beating  upon  the  stones; 
and  if  you  opened  your  eye  to  the  opening  of  the 
streets  where  the  fire  was  come,  you  might  see  in 
some  places  whole  streets  at  once  in  flames,  that 
issued  forth  as  if  they  had  been  so  many  great 
forges  from  the  opposite  windows,  which,  folding 
together,  were  united  into  one  great  flame  through- 
out the  whole  street ;  and  then  you  might  see  the 
houses  tumble,  tumble,  tumble,  from  one  end  of 
the  street  to  the  other,  Avith  a  great  crash,  leaving 
the  foundations  open  to  the  view  of  the  heavens." 

The  original  Church  of  St.  Magnus,  London 
Bridge,  was  of  great  antiquity;  for  we  learn  that 
in  1302  Hugh  Pourt,  sheriff  of  London,  and  his 
wife  Margaret,  founded  a  charity  here ;  and  the 
first  rector  mentioned  by  Newcourt  is  Robert  de 
St.  Albano,  who  resigned  his  living  in  1323.  It 
stood  almost  at  the  foot  of  Old  London  Bridge ; 
and  the  incumbent  gf  the  chapel  on  the  bridge 


paid  an  annual  sum  to  the  rector  of  St.  Magnus 
for  the  diminution  of  the  fees  which  the  chapel 
might  draw  away.  Three  Lord  Mayors  are  known 
to  have  been  buried  in  St.  Magnus' ;  and  here,  in 
the  chapel  of  St.  Mary,  was  interred  Henry  Yevele, 
a  freemason  to  Edward  III.,  Richard  II.,  and 
Henry  IV.  This  Yevele  had  assisted  to  erect 
the  bust  of  Richard  II.  at  Westminster  Abbey 
between  the  years  1395-97,  and  also  assisted 
in  restoring  Westminster  Hall.  He  founded  a 
charity  in  this  church,  and  died  in  1401.  In  old 
times  the  patronage  of  St.  Magnus'  was  exercised 
alternately  by  the  Abbots  of  Westminster  and  Ber- 
mondsey ;  but  after  the  dissolution  it  fell  to  .the 
Crown,  and  Queen  Mary,  in  1553,  bestowed  it  on 
the  Bishop  of  London.  In  Arnold's  "Chronicles" 
(end  of  the  fifteenth  century)  the  church  is  noted 
as  much  neglected,  and  the  services  insuflSciently 
performed.  The  ordinary  remarks  that  divers  of 
the  priests  and  clerks  spent  the  time  of  Divine 
service  in  taverns  and  ale-houses,  and  in  fishing 
and  "other  trifles." 

The  church  was  destroyed  at  an  early  period  of 
the  Great  Fire.  It  was  rebuilt  by  Wren  in  1676. 
The  parish  was  then  united  with  that  of  St.  Mar- 
garet, New  Fish  Street  Hill ;  and  at  a  later  period 
St.  Michael's,  Crooked  Lane,  has  also  been  an- 
nexed. On  the  top  of  the  square  tower,  which 
is  terminated  with  an  open  parapet.  Wren  has 
introduced  an  octagon  lantern  of  very  simple  and 
pleasing  design,  crowned  by  a  cupola  and  short 
spire.  We  must  here,  once  for  all,  remark  on  the 
fertility  of  invention  displayed  by  Wren  in  varying 
constantly  the  form  of  his  steeples. 

The  interior  of  the  church  is  divided  into  a  nave 
and  side  aisles  by  Doric  columns,  that  support  an 
entablature  from  which  rises  the  camerated  ceiling. 
"The  general  proportions  of  the  church,"  says 
Mr.  Godwin,  "  are  pleasing ;  but  the  columns  are 
too  slight,  the  space  between  them  too  wide,  and 
the  result  is  a  disagreeable  feeling  of  insecurity." 
The  altar-piece,  adorned  with  the  figure  of  a  pelican 
feeding  her  young,  is  richly  carved  and  gilded. 
The  large  organ,  built  by  Jordan  in  1712,  was  pre- 
sented by  Sir  Charles  Duncomb,  who  gave  the  clock 
in  remembrance  of  having  himself,  when  a  boy, 
been  detained  on  this  spot,  ignorant  of  the  time. 

Stow  gives  a  curious  account  of  a  religious 
service  attached  to  this  church.  The  following 
deed  is  still  extant : — 

"That  Rauf  Capelyn  du  Bailiff,  Will  Double,  fish- 
monger, Roger  Lowher,  chancellor,  Henry  Boseworth, 
vintner,  Steven  Lucas,  stock  fislimonger,  and  other  of  the 
better  of  the  parish  of  St.  Magnus',  near  the  Bridge  of 
London,  of  their  great  devotion,  and  to  the  honour  ot  God 


.';74 


OLD  AND   NEW   LONDON. 


fTlie  Monument 


and  the  glorious  Mother  our  Lady  Mary  the  Virgin,  began 
and  caused  to  be  made  a  chauntry,  to  sing  an  anthem  of  our 
Lady,  called  Salve  Regina,  every  evening  ;  and  thereupon 
ordained  five  burning  wax  lights  at  the  time  of  the  said 
anthem,  in  the  honour  and  reverence  of  the  five  principal 
joys  of  our  Lady  aforesaid,  and  for  exciting  the  people  to 
devotion  at  such  an  hour,  the  more  to  merit  to  their  souls. 
And  thereupon  many  other  good  people  of  the  same  parish, 
seeing  the  great  honesty  of  the  said  service  and  devotion, 
proffered  to  be  aiders  and  partners  to  support  the  said  lights 
and  the  said  anthem  to  be  continually  sung,  paying  to  every 
person  every  week  an  halfpenny  ;  and  so  that  hereafter,  with 
the  gift  that  the  people  shall  give  to  the  sustentation  of  the 
said  light  and  anthem,  there  shall  be  to  find  a  chaplain 
singing  in  the  said  church  for  all  the  benefactors  of  the  said 
light  and  anthem. " 

Miles  Coverdale,  the  great  reformer,  was  a 
rector  of  St.  Magnus'.  Coverdale  was  in  early 
life  an  Augustinian  monk,  but  being  converted 
to  Protestantism,  he  exerted  his  best  faculties  and 
influence  in  defending  the  cause.  In  August,  1551, 
he  was  advanced  to  the  see  of  Exeter,  and  availed 
himself  of  that  station  to  preach  frequently  in 
the  cathedral  and  in  other  churches  of  Exeter. 
Thomas  Lord  Cromwell  patronised  him  ;  and 
Queen  Catherine  Parr  appointed  him  her  almoner. 
At  the  funeral  of  that  ill-fated  lady  he  preached  a 
sermon  at  Sudeley  Castle.  When  Mary  came  to 
the  throne,  she  soon  exerted  her  authority  in  tyran- 
nically ejecting  and  persecuting  this  amiable  and 
learned  prelate.  By  an  Act  of  Council  (1554-55) 
he  was  allowed  to  "passe  towards  Denmarche 
with  two  servants,  his  bagges  and  baggage,"  where 
he  remained  till  the  death  of  the  queen.  On 
returning  home,  he  declined  to  be  reinstated  in 
his  see,  but  repeatedly  preached  at  Paul's  Cross, 
and,  from  conscientious  scruples,  continued  to  live 
in  obscurity  and  indigence  till  1563,  when  he  was 
presented  to  the  rectory  of  St.  Magnus',  London 
Bridge,  which  he  resigned  in  two  years.  Dying 
in  the  year  1568,  at  the  age  of  eighty-one,  he  was 
interred  in  this  church. 

Coverdale's  labours  in  Bible  translation  are 
worth  notice.  In  1532  Coverdale  appears  to  have 
been  abroad  assisting  Tyndale  in  his  translation  of 
the  Bible;  and  in  1535  his  own  folio  translation  of 
the  Bible  (printed,  it  is  supposed,  at  Zurich),  with 
a  dedication  to  Henry  VIII.,  was  published.  This 
was  the  first  English  Bible  allowed  by  royal 
authority,  and  the  first  translation  of  the  whole 
Bible  printed  in  our  language.  The  Psalms  in  it 
are  those  we  now  use  in  the  Book  of  Common 
Prayer.  About  1538  Coverdale  went  to  Paris  to 
superintend  a  new  edition  of  the  Bible  printing  in 
Paris  by  permission  of  Francis  I.  The  Inquisition, 
however,  seized  nearly  all  the  2,500  copies  (only  a 
few  books  escaping),  and  committed  them  to  the 


flames.  The  rescued  copies  enabled  Grafton  and 
Whitchurch,  in  1539,  to  print  what  is  called 
Cranmer's,  or  the  Great  Bible,  which  Coverdale 
collated  with  the  Hebrew.  This  great  Bible 
scholar  was  thrown  into  prison  by  Queen  Mary, 
and  on  his  release  went  to  Geneva,  where  he 
assisted  in  producing  the  Geneva  translation  of 
the  Bible,  which  was  completed  in  1560.  Cover- 
dale,  like  Wickliffe,  was  a  Yorkshireman. 

Against  the  east  wall,  on  the  south  side  of  the 
communion-table,  is  a  handsome  Gothic  panel  of 
statuary  marble,  on  a  black  slab,  with  a  repre- 
sentation of  an  open  Bible  above  it,  and  thus 
inscribed  : — 

"To  the  memory  of  Miles  Coverdale,  who,  convinced 
that  the  pure  Word  of  God  ought  to  be  the  sole  rule  of  our 
faith  and  guide  of  our  practice,  laboured  earnestly  for  its 
diffusion  ;  and  with  the  view  of  affording  the  means  of 
reading  and  hearing  in  their  own  tongue  the  wonderful 
works  of  God  not  only  to  his  own  country,  but  to  the 
nations  that  sit  in  darkness,  and  to  every  creature  where- 
soever the  English  language  might  be  spoken,  he  spent 
many  years  of  his  life  in  preparing  a  translation  of  the 
Scriptures.  On  the  4th  of  October,  1535,  the  first  complete 
printed  English  version  of  The  Bible  was  published  under 
his  direction.  Tlie  parishioners  of  St.  Magnus  the  Martyr, 
desirous  of  acknowledging  the  mercy  of  God,  and  calling  to 
mind  that  Miles  Coverdale  was  once  rector  of  their  parish, 
erected  this  monument  to  bis  memory,  a.d.  1837. 

"  '  How  beautiful  are  the  feet  of  them  that  preach  the 
gospel  of  peace,  and  bring  glad  tidings  of  good  things.' — 
Isaiah  lii.  7." 

In  the  vestry-room,  which  is  now  at  the  south- 
west corner  of  the  church,  there  is  a  curious 
drawing  of  the  interior  of  Old  Fishmongers'  Hall 
on  the  occasion  of  the  presentation  of  a  pair  of 
colours  to  the  Military  Association  of  Bridge 
Ward  by  Mrs.  Hibbert.  Many  of  the  figures  are 
portraits.  There  is  also  a  painting  of  Old  London 
Bridge,  and  a  clever  portrait  of  the  late  Mr.  R. 
Hazard,  who  was  attached  to  the  church  as  sexton, 
clerk,  and  ward  beadle  for  nearly  fifty  years. 

The  church  was  much  injured  in  1760  by  a  fire 
which  broke  out  in  an  adjoining  oil-shop.  The 
roof  was  destroyed,  and  the  vestry-room  entirely 
consumed.  The  repairs  cost  ;^i,2oo.  The  vestry- 
room  was  scarcely  completed  before  it  had  to  be 
taken  down,  with  part  of  the  church,  in  order  to 
make  a  passage-way  under  the  steeple  to  the  old 
bridge,  the  road  having  been  found  dangerously 
narrow.  It  was  proposed  to  cut  an  archway  out  of 
the  two  side  walls  of  the  tower  to  form  a  thorough- 
fare; and  Avhen  the  buildings  were  removed,  it  was 
discovered  that  Wren,  foreseeing  the  probability 
of  such  a  want  arising,  had  arranged  everything 
to  their  hands,  and  that  the  alteration  was  effected 
with  the  utmost  ease. 


Chaucer's  London.] 


FIGURES  IN  OLD  LONDON  STREETS. 


575 


CHAPTER   LL 

CHAUCER'S     LONDON. 

London  Denizens  in  the  Reigns  of  Edward  IIL  and  Richard  IL— The  Knight— The  Young  Bachelor— The  Yeoman— The  Prioress— The  Monk 
who  goes  a  Hunting— The  Merchant— The  Poor  Clerk— The  Franklin— The  Shipman— The  Poor  Parson. 


The  London  of  Chaucer's  time  (the  reigns  of 
Edward  III.  and  Richard  II.)  was  a  scattered 
town,  spotted  as  thick  with  gardens  as  a  common 
meadow  is  with  daisies.  Hovels  stood  cheek  by- 
jowl  with  stately  monasteries,  and  the  fortified 
mansions  in  the  narrow  City  lanes  were  surrounded 
by  citizens'  stalls  and  shops.  Westminster  Palace, 
out  in  the  suburbs  among  fields  and  marshes,  was 
joined  to  the  City  walls  by  that  long  straggling 
street  of  bishops'  and  nobles'  palaces,  called  the 
Strand.  The  Tower  and  the  Savoy  were  still  royal 
residences.  In  all  the  West-end  beyond  Charing 
Cross,  and  in  all  the  north  of  London  beyond 
Clerkenwell  and  Holborn,  cows  and  horses  grazed, 
milkmaids  sang,  and  ploughmen  whistled.  There 
was  danger  in  St.  John's  Wood  and  Tyburn  Fields, 
and  robbers  on  Hampstead  Heath.  The  heron 
could  be  found  in  Marylebone  pastures,  and  moor- 
hens in  the  brooks  round  Paddington.  Priestly 
processions  were  to  be  seen  in  Cheapside,  where 
the  great  cumbrous  signs,  blazoned  %vith  all  known 
and  many  unknown  animals,  hung  above  the  open 
stalls,  where  the  staid  merchants  and  saucy  'pren- 
tices shouted  the  praises  of  their  goods.  The 
countless  church-bells  rang  ceaselessly,  to  summon 
the  pious  to  prayers.  Among  the  street  crowds 
the  monks  and  men-at-arms  were  numerous,  and 
were  conspicuous  by  their  robes  and  by  their 
armour. 

With  the  manners  and  customs  of  those  simple 
times  our  readers  will  now  be  pretty  well  famiHar, 
for  we  have  already  written  of  the  knights  and 
priests  of  that  age,  and  have  described  their  good 
and  evil  doings.  We  have  set  down  their  epitaphs, 
detailed  the  history  of  their  City  companies,  their 
mayors,  aldermen,  and  turbulent  citizens.  We  have 
shown  their  buildings,  and  spoken  of  their  revolts 
against  injustice.  Yet,  after  all,  Time  has  destroyed 
many  pieces  of  that  old  puzzle,  and  who  can  dive 
into  oblivion  and  recover  them  ?  The  long  rows  of 
gable  ends,  the  abbey  archways,  the  old  guild  rooms, 
the  knightly  chambers,  no  magic  can  restore  to  us 
in  perfect  combination.  While  certain  spots  can 
be  etched  with  exactitude  by  the  pen,  on  vast 
tracts  no  image  rises.  A  dimmed  and  imperfect 
picture  it  remains,  we  must  confess,  even  to  the 
most  vivid  imagination.  How  the  small  details  of 
City  life  worked  in  those  days  we  shall  never  know. 
We  may  reproduce  Edward  III.'s  London  on  the 


stage,  or  in  poems ;  but,  after  all,  and  at  the  best,  it 
will  be  conjecture. 

But  of  many  of  those  people  who  paced  in 
Watling  Street,  or  who  rode  up  Cornhill,  we  have 
imperishable  pictures,  true  to  the  life,  and  rich- 
coloured  as  Titian's,  by  Chaucer,  in  those  "  Can- 
terbury Tales"  he  is  supposed  to  have  written 
about  1385  (Richard  II. ),  in  advanced  life,  and  in 
his  peaceful  retirement  at  Woodstock.  The  pil- 
grims he  paints  in  his  immortal  bundle  of  tales  are 
no  ideal  creatures,  but  such  real  flesh  and  blood  as 
Shakespeare  drew  and  Hogarth  engraved.  He 
drew  the  people  of  his  age  as  genius  most  delights 
to  do ;  and  the  fame  he  gained  arose  chiefly  from 
the  fidelity  of  the  figures  with  which  he  filled  his 
wonderful  portrait-gallery. 

We,  therefore,  in  Chaucer's  knight,  are  intro- 
duced to  just  such  old  warriors  as  might  any  day 
in  the  reign  of  Edward  III.,  be  met  in  Bow  Lane 
or  Friday  Street,  riding  to  pay  his  devoirs  to  some 
noble  of  Thames  Street,  to  solicit  a  regiment,  or 
to  claim  redress  for  a  wrong  by  force  of  arms.  The 
great  bell  of  Bow  may  have  struck  the  hour  of  noon 
as  the  man  who  rode  into  Pagan  Alexandria,  under 
the  banner  of  the  Christian  King  of  Cyprus,  and 
who  had  broken  a  spear  against  the  Moors  at  the 
siege  of  Granada,  rides  by  on  his  strong  but  not 
showy  charger.  He  wears,  you  see,  a  fustian  gipon, 
which  is  stained  with  the  rust  of  his  armour.  There 
is  no  plume  in  his  helmet,  no  gold  upon  his  belt, 
for  he  is  just  come  from  Anatolia,  where  he  has 
smitten  off  many  a  turbaned  head,  and  to-morrow 
will  start  to  thank  God  for  his  safe  return  at  the 
shrine  of  St.  Thomas  in  Kent.  In  sooth  it  needs 
only  a  glance  at  him  to  see  that  he  is  "a  very 
perfect  gentle  knight,"  meek  as  a  maid,  and  trusty 
as  his  own  sword. 

That  trusty  young  bachelor  who  rides  so  gaily 
by  the  old  knight's  side,  and  who  regards  him  with 
love  and  reverence,  is  his  son,  a  brave  young  knight 
of  twenty  years  of  age,  as  we  guess.  He  has  borne 
him  well  in  Flanders,  Artois,  and  Picardy,  and  has 
watered  many  a  French  vineyard  with  French 
blood.  See  how  smart  he  is  in  his  short  gown  and 
long  wide  sleeves.  He  can  joust,  and  dance,  and 
sing,  and  write  love  verses,  with  any  one  between 
here  and  Paris,  The  citizens'  daughters  devour 
him  with  their  eyes  as  he  rides  under  their  case- 
ments ^ 


576 


OLD  AND   NEW  LONDON. 


[Chaucer's  London. 


There  rides  behind  this  worthy  pair  a  stout 
yeoman,  such  as  you  can  see  a  dozen  of  every 
morning,  in  this  reign,  in  ten  minutes'  walk  down 
Cheapside,  for  the  nobles'  houses  in  the  City  swarm 
with  such  retainers — sturdy,  brown-faced  country 
fellows,  quick  of  quarrel,  and  not  disposed  to  bear 
gibes.  He  wears  a  coat  and  hood  of  Lincoln 
green,  and  has  a  sword,  dagger,  horn,  and  buckler 
by  his  side.  The  sheaf  of  arrows  at  his  girdle  have 
peacock-feathers.  Ten  to  one  but  that  fellow  let 
fly  many  a  shaft  at  Cressy  and  Poictiers,  for  he  is 
fond  of  saying,  over  his  ale-bowl,  that  he  carries 
"ten  Frenchmen's  lives  under  his  belt." 

The  prioress  Chaucer  sketches  so  daintily  might 
have  been  seen  any  day  ambling  through  Bishops- 
gate  from  her  country  nunnery,  on  her  way  to  shrine 
or  altar,  or  on  a  visit  to  some  noble  patroness  to 
whom  she  is  akin.  "  By  St.  Eloy  !"  she  cries  to 
her  mule,  "if  thou  stumble  again  I  will  chide 
thee !"  and  she  says  it  in  the  French  of  Stratford 
at  Bow.  Her  wimple  is  trimly  plaited,  and  how 
fashionable  is  her  cloak  !  She  wears  twisted  round 
her  arm  a  pair  of  coral  beads,  and  from  them  hangs 
a  gold  ornament  with  the  unecclesiastical  motto  of 
"  Amor  vincit  omnia."  Behind  her  rides  a  nun  and 
three  priests,  and  by  the  side  of  her  mule  run  the 
little  greyhounds  whom  she  feeds,  and  on  whom 
she  doats. 

The  rich  monk  that  loved  hunting  was  a  cha- 
racter that  any  monastery  of  Chaucer's  London 
could  furnish.  Go  early  in  the  morning  to  Alders- 
gate  or  Cripplegate,  and  you  will  be  sure  to  find 
such  a  one  riding  out  with  his  greyhounds  and 
falcon.  His  dress  is  rich,  for  he  does  not  sneer 
at  worldly  pleasures.  His  sleeves  are  trimmed 
with  fur,  and  the  pin  that  fastens  his  hood  is  a 
gold  love-knot.  His  brown  palfrey  is  fat,  like  its 
master,  who  does  not  despise  a  roast  Thames 
swan  for  dinner,  and  whose  face  shines  with  good 
humour  and  good  living.  It  is  such  men  as  these 
that  Wycliffe's  followers  deride,  and  point  the 
finger  at ;  but  they  forget  that  the  Church  uses 
strong  arguments  with  perverse  adversaries. 

To  find  Chaucer's  merchant  you  need  not  go 
further  than  a  few  yards  from  Milk  Street.  There 
you  will  see  him  at  any  stall,  grave,  and  with 
forked  beard ;  on  his  head  a  Flemish  beaver  hat, 
and  his  boots  "  full  fetishly "  clasped.  He  talks 
much  of  profits  and  exchanges,  and  the  necessity 
of  guarding  the  sea  from  the  French  between 
Middleburgh  and  the  Essex  ports. 

Chaucer's  poor  lean  Oxford  clerk  you  will  find 
in  Paul's,  peering  about  the  tombs,  as  if  looking 
for  a  benefice.  All  his  riches,  worthy  man  !  are 
some  twenty  books  at  his  bed's  head,  and  he  is 


talking  philosophy  to  a  fellow-student  lean  and 
thin  as  himself,  to  the  profound  contempt  of  that 
stiff  serjeant-at-law  who  is  waiting  for  clients  near 
the  font,  on  which  his  fees  are  paid. 

Any  procession  day  in  the  age  of  Edward  you 
can  meet,  in  Westminster  Abbey,  near  the  royal 
shrines  and  tombs,  Chaucer's  franklin,  or  country 
gentleman,  with  his  red  face  and  white  beard.  His 
dagger  hangs  by  his  silk  purse,  and  his  girdle  is 
as  white  as  milk,  for  our  friend  has  been  a  sheriff 
and  knight  of  the  shire,  and  is  known  all  Bucking- 
hamshire over  for  his  open  house  and  well-covered 
board.  Aye,  and  many  a  fat  partridge  he  has  in 
his  pen,  and  many  a  fat  pike  in  his  fish-pond. 

Chaucer's  shipman  we  shall  be  certain  to  discover 
near  Billingsgate.  He  is  from  Dartmouth,  and 
wears  a  short  coat,  and  a  knife  hanging  from  his 
neck.  A  hardy  good  fellow  he  is,  and  shrewd,  and 
his  beard  has  shaken  in  many  a  tempest.  Bless 
you !  the  captain  of  the  Magdalm  knows  all  the 
havens  from  Gothland  to  Cape  Finisterre,  aye,  and 
every  creek  in  Brittany  and  Spain ;  and  many  a 
draught  of  Bordeaux  wine  he  has  tapped  at  night 
from  his  cargo. 

Nor  must  we  forget  that  favourite  pilgrim  of 
Chaucer — the  poor  parson  of  a  town,  who  is  also 
a  learned  clerk,  and  who  is  by  many  supposed  to 
strongly  resemble  Wycliffe  himself,  whom  Chaucer's 
patron,  John  of  Gaunt,  protects  at  the  hazard  of 
his  life.  He  is  no  proud  Pharisee,  like  the  fat 
abbot  who  has  just  gone  past  the  church  door; 
but  benign  and  wondrous  diligent,  and  in  adversity 
full  patient.  Rather  than  be  cursed  for  the  tithfe 
he  takes,  he  gives  to  the  poor  of  his  very  sub- 
sistence. Come  rain,  come  thunder,  staff  in  hand, 
he  visits  the  farthest  end  of  his  parish ;  he  has  no 
spiced  conscience — 

"  For  Christe's  love,  and  his  apostles  twelve, 
He  taught,  but  first  hefollcrwed  it  himsehe." 

You  will  find  him,  be  sure,  on  his  knees  on  the  cold 
floor,  before  some  humble  City  altar,  heedless  of 
all  but  prayer,  or  at  the  lazar-house  on  his  knees, 
beside  some  poor  leper,  and  pointing  through  the 
shadow  of  death  to  the  shining  gables  of  the  New 
Jerusalem. 

Such  were  the  tenants  of  Chaucer's  London. 
On  these  types  at  least  we  may  dwell  with  cer- 
tainty. As  for  the  proud  nobles  and  the  tough- 
skulled  knights,  we  must  look  for  them  in  the  pages 
of  Froissart.  Of  the  age  of  Edward  HI.  at  least 
our  patriarchal  poet  has  shown  us  some  vivid 
glimpses,  and  imagination  finds  pleasure  in  tracing 
home  his  pilgrims  to  their  houses  in  St.  Bartholo- 
mew's and  Budge  Row,  the  Blackfriars  monastery, 
and  the  palace  on  the  Thames  shore. 


SELECTIONS     FROM 

CASSELL,  PETTER,  &  GALPIN'S  PUBLICATIONS. 


ILLUSTRATED    AND    FINE    ART   WORKS. 


Old    and    New     London.      A  Narrative  of  its 

History,  its  People,  and  its  Places,  By  Walter  Thornbury. 
Vol.  I.,  with  about  200  Engravings.  Extra  crown  410,  576  pp., 
cloth,  9s. 

The  Races  of  Mankind.      A  Popular  Description 

of  the  Characteristics,  Manners,  and  Customs  of  the  Principal 
Varieties  of  the  Human  Family.  By  Robert  Brown,  M.A., 
Ph.D.,  F.L.S.,  F.R.G.S.,  President  of  the  Royal  Phy.sical  Society, 
Edinburgh.  Vol.  I.,  Illustrated  throughout.  384  pp.,  extra  crown 
4to,  cloth,  6s. 

Homely  Scenes  from  Great  Painters,  con- 
taining Tiveiity-fnitr  beautiful  full-page  Copies  of  Famous  Pictures, 
printed  by  the  Woodbury  Process.  The  Text  consists  of  a  Series  of 
Essays  by  Godfrey  Turner.     Demy  410,  cloth  gilt,  gilt  edges,  153. 

Pictures  from    English   Literature.    With 

Twenty  full-page  Illustrations  by  E.  M.  Ward,  R.A.,  J.  C. 
HoRSLEv,  R.A..  .Sir  J.  Gilbert,  W.  F.  Yeames,  A.R.A.,  Marcus 
Stone.  J.  D.  Wat.son,  and  others.  Ornamental  Chapter-heads 
and  Title-page  by T.  Sulman.  The  Text  by  J.  F.  Waller,  LL.D. 
Cloth,  lettered,  7s.  6d.  ;  cloth  gilt,  gilt  edges,  los.  6d. 

Present    Pastimes    of  Merrie    England. 

By  F.  C.  Burnand,  Author  of  "  Happy  Thoughts,"  &c.  With 
Coloured  Plates,  drawn  from  ye  Quicke,  by  J.  E.  Rogers.  Demy 
4to,  Illuminated  boards,  7s.  6d. 

Poems  and  Pictures.     With  about  loo  highly- 
finished  Engravings,  by  J.  C.  Horslev,  R.A.,  C.  W.  Cope,  R.A., 
F.  R.  PicKERSGiLL,  R.A.,  Selois,  &c.  &c.     Fcap.  4to,  250pp., 
,  very  handsomely  bound  in  extra  gilt  cloth,  21s. 


The  Schiller  Gallery.  A  Series  of  Choice  Photo- 
graphs from  Kaulbach's  Paintings  of  Scenery  from  Schiller. 
Cloth,  lettered,  £,^  5s.  Ne'Lii  Edition,  with  Twenty-one  beautiful 
Photographs,  folio,  cloth,  £,^  ys. 

The  Goethe  Gallery.  A  Series  of  beautiful  Photo- 
graphs from  Kaulbach's  Drawings  of  the  Heroines  of  Goethe, 
Handsomely  bound  in  morocco,  42s. 

Goethe's     Heroines.       A    Series    of    Twenty-one 
exquisite  Engravings  on  Steel.     From  Designs  by  the  great  German 
Artist,  W.  Kaulbach.     With  Descriptive  Letterpress  by  George  ^ 
Henry  Lewes.    Ne^v  Eduion.     Imperial  folio,  cloth,  ;^7  7s. 

Illustrated  Travels  :  A  Record  of  Discovery,  Geo- 
graphy, and  Adventure.  Edited  by  H.  W.  Bates,  Assistant-Secre- 
tary of  the  Royal  Geographical  Society.  Vols.  I.,  II.,  III.,  IV.,  and 
V.  now  ready,  containing  nearly  200  Engravings  in  each  volume, 
royal  4to,  15s.  cloth,  or  18s.  cloth,  gilt  edges,  each. 

Cassell's    Illustrated    Shakespeare.     With 

500  Illustrations  by  H.  C.  Selous.  Edited  by  Charles  and  Mary 
CowDEN  Clarke.  Complete  in  Three  Vols.,  2,168  pp.,  cloth, 
lettered,  £\  155.  ;  half  morocco,  £2.  los. 


With 


The  World   of  Wit  and    Humour.     Wh 

about  400  Illustrations.     Super-royal  8vo,  480  pp.,  cloth,  7s.  6d. 
cloth  gilt,  gilt  edges,  los.  6d. 

,<Esop's  Fables.  Second  Edition.  With  1 00  Original 
Illustrations  by  Ernest  Griset.  Imperial  Bvo,  236  pp.,  cloth 
7s.  6d.  ;  gilt  edges,  los.  6d. 

The  World  of  "Wonders.    A  Record  of  Things 

Wonderful  in   Nature,   Science,  and  Art.     Imperial  8vo,  500  pp., 
with  130  Illustrations.    Cloth,  7s.  6d. ;  cloth  gilt,  gilt  edges,  los.  6d, 


THE    DORfi    FINE    ART    VOLUMES. 


The    Dore    Gallery.      Containing  250  of  the  finest 

Drawings  of  Gustave  Dor^,  selected  from  the  "Dord  Bible," 
"Milton's  Paradise  Lost,"  "Dante's  Inferno,"  and  "Purgatorio 
and  Paradiso,"  &c.  With  Descriptive  Letterpress  and  Memoir  by 
Edmund  Ollier.  Folio,  cloth  gilt.  One  Vol.,  complete,  ;^s  5s.  ; 
cloth  gilt,  in  Two  Vols.,  £s  los.  ;  full  morocco  elegant,  £-i.o. 

The  Dor^  Bible.  With  230  Illustrations  by  Gustave 
Dor6.  1,600  pp.,  small  folio,  Two  Vols.,  cloth,  £Z  ;  morocco,  ;£i2 ; 
full  morocco  elegant,  £,\%. 

Dante's  Inferno.  With  Seventy-six  full-page 
Engravings  by  Gustave  Dor6.  Translated  by  Rev.  H.  F.  Gary, 
M.  A.  Crown  folio,  cloth,  £i  los.  ;  elegantly  bound  in  full  morocco, 
£6  6s. 

Dante's  Purgatorio  and  Paradiso,     With 

Sixty  full-page  Engravings  by  Gustavk  DoKit.  Uniform  with  the 
Inferno,  and  same  price. 

La  Fontaine's  Fables.    With  Eighty-six  full-page 

and  numerous  smaller  Engravings  by  Gustave  Dor6.  Royjj  4to, 
840  pp.,  cloth  gilt,  ;gi  IDS. ;  full  morocco,  £-i  los. 


Milton's  Paradise  Lost.  With  full-page  Illustra- 
tions by  Gustave  Dor6.  With  Notes  and  a  Life  of  Milton  by  the 
late  Rev.  R.  Vaughan,  D.D.  Neiv  Edition,  imperial  410,  cloth 
gilt,  £1  los.  ;  full  morocco  elegant,  £fi  6s. 

Don  Quixote.  With  about  400  Illustrations  by 
Gustave  Dor^.    Royal  410,  cloth,  £\  los.  ;  full  morocco,  £■},  los. 

Atala.     By    Chateaubriand.     With  Thirty  full-page 

and  many  smaller  Engravings  by  Gustave  DoRfi.     Crown  folio, 
cloth,  £■2.  2S.  ;  morocco  gilt,  £i,  4s. 

History  of  Croquemitaine.     With  nearly  200 

Illustrations  by  Gustave  Dor6.    The  Text  by  Tom  Hood.    Royal 
4to,  cloth,  los.  6d. 

Adventures  of  Baron  Munchausen.    With 

Thirty-one  full-page  Engravings  by  Gustave  Dor6.     Royal  4to, 
cloth,  los.  6d. 

Legend    of    the    Wandering    Jew.       With 

Twelve  Large  Designs  by   Gustave  DoRfe.     Folio,  cloth,   15s. 
extra  gilt,  21s. 


Cassell,  Fetter,  &^  Galpin,  Ludgate  Hill,  London;  Paris;  and  Neiv  York. 

15I—  73 


Selections  from  Cassell,  Fetter,  dr*  Galpin's  Publications. 


STANDARD    WORKS. 


British  Battles  on  Land  and  Sea.     By  Tames 

Grant,  Author  of  "The  Romance  of  War."  Vol.  I.,  with  about 
200  Engravings,  extra  crown  4to,  576  pp.,  cloth,  9s. 

Cassell's  Illustrated  History  of  England. 

With  about  2,000  Illustrations.,  Post  4to,  5,000  pp.  Complete  in 
Eight  Volumes,  cloth,  6s.  and  7s.  6d.  each  ;  or  Four  Vols,  half 
calf,  £^.     The  Cloth  Volumes  can  be  had  separate. 

The  Toned  Paper  Edition,  Vols.  I.,  II.,  III., 

IV.,  v.,  VI.,  VII,  and  VIII.,  bound  in  cloth,  each,  9s. 

Cassell's  Illustrated  History  of  the  War 
between  France  and  Germany.     Complete 

in  Two  Vols.,  with  about  500  Engravings  and  Plans  of  the  Battle- 
Fields.  Extra  crown  4to,  cloth  >gilt,  9s.  each  ;  or  Two  Vols,,  half 
calf,  £1  los. 

Cassell's  Household  Guide.     A  Guide  to  every 

Department  of  Practical  Life.  With  numeroits  Coloured  Cookery 
Plates,  and  Illustrations  on  nearly  every  page.  Complete  in  Four 
Vols.,  with  Analytical  Indices,  cloth  gilt,  price  6s.  each;  or  Two 
Vols.,  half  calf,  £,\  iis.  6d. 

Cassell's  New  Popular  Educator.    Revised 

to  the  Present  Date,  with  numerous  Additions.  Complete  in  Six 
Vols.,  412  pp.  each,  cloth,  6s.  each ;  or  Three  Vols.,  half  calf,;t2  los. 

Cassell's  Recreator.  A  Guide  and  Key  to  Indoor 
and  Outdoor  Amusement.  Vol.  I.,  containing  about  500  Illustra- 
tions, 384  pp.,  extra  crown  410,  cloth,  6s. 

Cassell's  Technical   Educator.     Complete  in 

Four  Vols.,  each  containing  Coloured  Frontispiece  and  numerous 
Illustrations.  Extra  crown  4to,  416  pp.,  cloth,  6s.  each  ;  or  Two 
Vols.,  half  calf,  31s.  6d. 


The  Bible  Educator.    Edited  by  the  Rev.  E.  H. 

Plumptre,  Professor  of  Exegesis  of  the  New  Testament,  King's 
College,  London.  Vol.  I.,  containing  124  Separate  Articles,  and 
120  Illustrations  and  Maps,  extra  crown  4to,  cloth,  6s. 


The  Child's  Bible.     With  220  Illustrations. 
4to,  cloth  gilt,  £,\  IS.  ;  leather,  30s.  ;  morocco  elegant,  42s. 


Demy 


Cassell's    Guinea   Illustrated    Bible.    With 

900  Illustrations,  Full  References,  a  Concordance,  Family  Register, 
&c.  &c.  Royal  4to,  1,476  pp.,  cloth  gilt,  gilt  edges,  ais. ;  morocco, 
gilt  edges,  25s. 

Cassell's  Bible  Dictionary.     With  nearly  600 

Illustrations.  Imperial  8vo,  1,159  PP-  Complete  in  One  or  Two 
Volumes,  cloth,  21s.;  or  One  Vol.,  russia  or  morocco,  40s. 

Matthew  Henry's  Commentary.  Un- 
abridged Edition.  Complete  in  Three  Volumes.  Demy  4to, 
3,308  pp.    Cloth,  £,2  I2S.  6d. 

Daily  Devotion  for  the  Household,  Con- 
taining a  short  Prayer,  with  Hymn,  and  a  portion  of  Scripture  for 
every  Morning  and  Evening  in  the  Year,  with  a  few  Special  Servicss 
for  special  family  occasions.  With  Twenty-four  full-page  Plates. 
Royal  4to,  cloth,  gilt  edges,  31s.  6d. 

Cassell's   Family  Prayer-Book,     400  pages, 

demy  4to.     Cloth,  7s.  6d.  ;  cloth,  gilt  edges,  9s. 

Cassell's   Foxe's  Book  of  Martyrs.    Edited 

by  the  Rev.  W.  Bramlev-Mooke,  M.A.  With  181  Engravings  by 
Sir  John  Gilbert,  Morten,  Edwards,  &c.  &c.  Imperial  Bvo, 
732  pp.  cloth,  I2S. ;  full  gilt  cloth,  15s. 


THE    ILLUSTRATED    LIBRARY. 


Imperial  Zvo,  cloth,  js.  6d.  ;  full  gilt  cloth,  gilt  edges,  ioj.  i>d.  each. 


The  Book  of  Sacred  Poems.    With  about  200 

Illustrations.     Edited  by  the  Rev.  R.  H.  Baynks,  M.A.     Imperial 
8vo,  400  pp. 

Cassell's    Bunyan's    Pilgrim's    Progress. 

Containing  loo  Illustrations  by  Selous  and  Priolo.    Imperial  8vo, 
400  pp. 

Cassell's  Bunyan's  Holy  War.    Uniform  with 

the  above,  and  same  price. 


Cassell's  Illustrated  Goldsmith.     With  108 

Engravings.     Imperial  8vo, 

Cassell's  Gulliver's  Travels.   With  Eighty-eight 

Engravings  by  Morten.     Imperial  8vo,  400  pp. 

Illustrated     Readings.       Containing   about    500 

choice  Selections  from  the  English  Literature  of  all  ages.  First 
AND  Second  Series.  Each  Series  complete  in  One  Volume.  Pro- 
fusely Illustrated.     Cloth,  each,  7s.  6d.    cloth,  gilt  edges,  los.  6d, 


POPULAR    WORKS   ON    NATURAL    HISTORY. 


THE  NEW  AND  CHEAPER  EDITIONS 
of 

LOUIS   FIGUIER'S    POPULAR    SCIENTIFIC   WORKS, 

Containing  all  the  Original  Illustrations, 

THE  TEXT  REVISED  AND  CORRECTED, 

Price  7s.  6d.  each, 

Comprise  :— 

The   "World  before  the   Deluge.      With    233 

Illustrations.     Third  Edition.     Revised  and  Corrected  by  W.  H. 
Bristow,  F.R.S. 

The  Ocean  World.  W^ith  427  Illustrations.  Third 
Edition.  Revised  and  Corrected  by  Professor  E.  Perceval 
Wright,  M.D. 

Reptiles    and     Birds.       With    300    Ilhistrations. 

Second  Edition.      Revised   and  Corrected   by  Captain    Parker 
Gillmore. 

The  Insect  World.  With  576  Illustrations.  Third 
Edition.     Revised  by  Professor  Duncan,  M.D. ,  F.R.S. 

The  Vegetable  "World.  With  470  Illustrations, 
Third  Edition.   Revised  and  Corrected  by  an  Eminent  Botanist. 


The    Transformations    of  Insects.      Second 

Edition.  I5y  P.  Martin  Duncan,  M.D.,  F.R.S.,  Professor  of 
Geology,  King's  College,  London.  With  240  highly-finished  En- 
gravings.    Royal  8vo,  500  pp.,  cloth  gilt,  i6s. 

Cassell's  Brehm's  Book  of  Birds.  Trans- 
lated from  the  Text  of  Dr.  Brehm,  by  Professor  T.  Rvmer  Jones, 
F.R.S.  With  upwards  of  400  Engravings  on  Wood,  and  numerous 
full-page  Plates,  printed  in  Colours,  from  Original  Designs  by  F. 
W.  Kevl.  Coniplete  in  Four  Volnines,  410,  cloth,  7s.  6d.  ;  cloth 
gilt,  gilt  edges,  los.  each  ;  or  Two  Vols.,  half  calf,  ^2  2S. 

Cassell's  Popular  Natural  History.     "VVith 

about  2,000  Engravings  and  Tinted  Plates.  Complete  in  Two 
Vols.,  crown  410,  1,532  pp.,  cloth,  30s.;  half  calf,  4SS. ;  or  half 
morocco,  50s.  Also  in  Four  Vols.,  with  Coloured  Illustrations, 
cloth,  42s. 

The    Illustrated  Book   of  Poultry.     By   L. 

Wright,  Author  of  "The  Practical  Poultry-Keeper,"  "The 
Brahma  Fowl,"  &c.  &c.  A  Comphete  and  Practical  Treatise  on  the 
Breeding,  Rearing,  and  Management  of  every  known  variety  of 
Poultry.  With  50  exquisitely  coloured  Plates  of  Prize  Birds, 
painted  from  Life,  and  with  numerous  Engravings.  Demy  410, 
600  pp.,  cloth  bevelled,  31s.  6d. 

The  Dog.  By  "Id.stone."  With  Twelve  full-page  En- 
gravings by  G.  Earl.  Second  Edition.  Crown  8vo,  256  pages, 
cloth,  5s. 


Cassell,  Fetter,  qt^  Galpin,  Ludcate  Hill,  London;  Faris;  and  New  York. 


Selections  from  Cassell,  Fetter,  6>»  Galpin's  Publications. 


EDUCATIONAL    WORKS. 


A    First    Sketch    of   English    Literature. 

By  Henry  Morley,  Professor  of  English  Liteiature  at  University 
College,  and  Examiner  in  English  Language,  Literature,  and 
History  to  the  University  of  London.  Second  Eiiition.  Crown  8vo, 
912  pp.,  cloth   9s.     Also  issued  in  3  Parts,  price  ^s.  6d.  each. 

A   Complete   Manual    of  Spelling.      On  the 

Principles  of  Contrast  and  Comparison.  By  J.  D.  Morbll,  LL.D., 
H;M.  Lispector  of  Schools  Thirtieth  Thousatid.  Crown  8vo, 
128  pp.,  c.oth,  IS. 

Principles     of     Decorative     Design.       By 

Christopher  Dresser,  Ph.  D.,  F.L.S.,  &c.  A  Comprehensive 
Work  on  the  Principles  of  Design  as  applied  to  the  various  Arts  and 
Manufactures.  Illustrated  with  Two  Coloured  Plates  and  numerous 
Designs  and  Diagrams.     Extra  Crown  4to,  cloth  gilt,  7s.  6d. 

Cassell's  Book  of  Water-Colour  Painting. 

By  R.  P.  Leitch.  With  24  Coloured  Plates.  Second  Editioti. 
Cloth,  5$. 

English   Grammar  for    School   Use.      By 

the  Rey.  F.  Meyrick,  M.A.,  for  ten  years  H.M.  Inspector  of 
Schools.    Cloth,  IS.  6d. 

Elementary   Geography.     By  Professor  D.  T. 

Ansted,  M.A.,  F.R.S.  Illustrated.  Second  Edition,  Revised, 
160  pp.,  cloth,  IS. 

History  of  England,  for  School   Use.    By 

C.  S.  Dawe,  B.A.,  and  W.  Lawson,  F.R.G.S.  Cluap  Editioti, 
cloth  limp,  IS.  6d.  ;  Superior  Edition,  doth,  lettered,  2s.  6d. 

An    Elementary    Manual    of    Music.     By 

Henry  Leslie.     Second  Edition.     Cloth,  is. 

Social    Economy.      By  J.  E.  Thorold    Rogers, 

M.A.,  Tooke  Professor  of  Economic  Science.  Second  Edition. 
Cloth,  IS. 

Little   Folks'   History  of  England.     By  Isa 

Craig  Knox.  With  Thirty  Illustrations.  Third  Edition. 
Cloth,  2s.  6d. 

Cassell's  New  Code  Series,  comprising  Works 

specially  prepared  for  use  in  Elementary  and  other  Schools  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  provisions  of  the  New  Code.  (-4  detailed  List 
0/  Cassell's  New  Code  Series,  containing  Specimen  Pages,  (s'c., 
post  free  on  application.) 

Cassell's  Graduated  Copy-Books,  printed  on 

superior  Writing  Paper.     Complete  in  12  Books,  price  2d.  each. 

Cassell's    Penny    Copy-Books.     Comijlete  in 

18  Books,  price  id.  each. 

Cassell's  Penny  Draw^ing  Copies.    Complete 

in  28  Books,  price  id.  each. 

Cassell's  Sixpenny  Drawing  Copies.  Com- 
prising Five  Series  of  Books,  each  Series  complete  in  Twelve  Parts, 
price  6d.  each  ;  Twelve  Packets  on  Cardboard,  price  is.  each  ;  or 
One  Volume,  cloth,  7s.  6d. 


GAL6R4ITH  AND  KAUGHTON'S  SCIENTIFIG  MANUALS. 

By  the  Rev.   Professor  Galbraith,  M.A  ,  Fellow  of  Trinity  College, 
Dublin,  and  the  Rev.  Professor  Haughto.n,  M.D.,  D.  C  L.,  F.  R,S, 

Manual  of  Arithmetic.     Cloth,  3s.  6d. 

Manual  of  Plane  Trigonometry.     Cloth,  2s.  6d. 

Manual  of  Euclid.     Books  I.,  II.,  III.     Cloth,  2s.  6d. 

Manual  of  Euclid.     Books  IV.,  V.,  VI.    Cloth,  2s.  6d. 

Manual  of  Mathematical  Tables.     Cloth,  3s.  6d. 

Manual  of  Mechanics.     Cloth,  3s.  6d. 

Manual  of  Optics.     Cloth,  2s.  6d. 

Manual  of  Hydrostatics.     Cloth,  3s.  6d. 

Manual  of  Tides  and  Tidal  Currents.     With  Tidal  Cards,  3s, 

Manual   of  Astronomy.     Cloth,  5s. 

Manual  of  the  Steam  Engine.     Cloth,  3s.  6d. 

Manual  of  Algebra.     Part  I.,  2s.  6d.     Complete,  7s.  6d. 


The  Three   Kingdoms  of  Nature.     By  the 

Rer.  Professor  Haughton,  M.D.,  D.C.L.,  F.R.S.  Illustrated. 
Cloth,  5s. 

A  Manual  of  Natural    Philosophy.    By  the 

Rev.  Professor  Haughton,  M.D.,  D.C.L.,  F.R.S.  With  160 
Illustrations.     Cloth,  3s.  6d. 

Natural  Philosophy  in  Easy  Lessons.    By 

Professor  Tyndall,  F.R.S.  Illustrated.  Th-rd  Edition.  Cloth, 
lettered,  2s.  6d. 

Elementary    Astronomy.      By    Richard    A. 

Proctor,  B.A.,  Hon.  Sec.  Royal  Astronomical  Society,  Author  of 
"  Elementary  Physical  Geography,"  &c.  With  nearly  Fifty  Original 
Illustrations.     Third  Edition,  Enlarged,  cloth,  is.  6d. 

Elementary  Physical  Geography.  By  R.  A, 

Proctor,  B.A.,  Hon.  Sec.  Royal  Astronomical  Society,  Author  of 
"  Elementary  Astronomy,"  &c.     Cloth,  is.  6d. 

Colour.      By    Professor    Church,    M.A.      "With    Six 

Coloured  Plates  and  numerous  Diagrams.     Cloth,  2s.  6i. 

Elementary  Chemistry. 

M.A.     Illustrated.     Cloth,  is.  6d. 


By  Professor   Barff, 


Hart's  Manual  of   Chemistry.    For  more  ad- 

vanced   Students.     By  the  Rev.  H.  Martyn  Hart,  M.A,     With 
Coloured  Frontispiece  and  numerous  Illustrations.     Cloth,  3s.  6d. 


Applied  Mechanics. 

Illustrated.     Cloth,  2s. 


By  Professor  Ball,  LL.D. 


A  complete  List  of  Cassell,   Fi^TTER  &  Galpin's  Educational    Works  will  be  found  in  their  Educational  Catalogue, 
a  copy  of  which  will  be  forwarded  post  free  on  application. 


BOOKS     FOR     CHILDREN     AND     YOUNG     PEOPLE. 


Little   Folks,  Vols.   I.,   II.,   III.,   IV.,   V.,   and  VI. 

Containing  over  2,000  Pictures,  and  full  of  Tales,  Pieces  of  Poetry, 
Little  Storie.s,  Little  Folks'  Own  Letters,  Games,  Puzzles,  &c.  &c. 
Coloured  boards,  3s.  ;  cloth  gilt,  gilt  edges,  5s.  each.  The  set  of  Six 
Vols.,  in  strong  cloth,  lettered,  2is. 
%♦  "  Little  Folks"  is  published  in  Weekly  Nninhers,  id.;  in  Monthly 
Parts,  6d.  ;  and  in  Half -Yearly  Volumes,  y. 

Peeps    Abroad   for   Folks   at    Home.     By 

C.  L.  Mat^aux.  Uniform  with  '"Home  Chat "  and  "Sunday 
Chats,"  describing  Foreign  Lands  and  Foreign  Cities.  256  pp., 
fcap.  4to.     Profusely  Illustrated,     ss. 

Leslie's   Songs    for    Little   Folks.      With  12 

Pieces  of  Music,   by   Henr'S 

Selous.     a  Companion  Volu 

Super-royal  ismo,  cloth  gilt,  3s.  6d. 


Pieces  of  Music,   by   Henry  Leslie,  and    Frontispiece  by  H.  C. 
Selous.     A  Companion  Volum'^  to  "  Litile  Songs  for  Me  to  Sing." 


The   Old   Fairy   Tales.       A  Choice  Collection  of 

Favourite  Fairy  Tales.  Collected  and  Edited  by  James  Mason. 
With  24  full-page  and  numerous  other  Original  Illustrations.  Super-- 
royal  i6mo,  cloth,  2s.  6d. 

Great    Lessons    from    Little    Things.     A 

Series  of  Practical  Lessons  on  Bible  Natural  History.  Illustrated 
throughout.     176  pp.,  extra  fcap.  410,  cloth  gilt,  3s.  6d. 

Stories  about  Animals.  By  the  Rev.  T.  Jackson, 

M.A.  A  Familiar  Description  of  the  Life  and  Habits  of  the 
different  varieties  of  the  Animal  World.  Profusely  Illustrated, 
256  pp.,  extra  fcap.  4to,  cloth,  5s. 

Stories    about    Birds.      By   M.   and    E.   Kirby. 

An  Interesting  Account  of  the  Life  and  Habits  of  the  various 
descriptions  of  the  Feathered  Tribes.  Profusely  Illustrated. 
256.PP.,  extra  fcap.  4to,  cloth,  5s. 


Cassell,  Fetter,  6^  Galpin,  Ludgate  Hill,  London;  Faris;  and  New  York. 


Selections  from  Cassell,  Fetter,  (5^•  Galpin's  Publications. 


CHILDREN'S     'BOOK^—couHmied. 


Half-Hours   v/ith    Early    Explorers.      By 

T.  Frost.  Containing  Narratives  of  the  Adventures  and  Dis- 
coveries of  the  Early  Explorers.  Profusely  Illustrated.  240  pp., 
fcap.  4to,  cloth,  5s. 
Notable  Shipwrecks.  Being  Tales  of  Disaster 
and  Heroism  at  Sea.  By  "  Uncle  Hardv."  320  pp.,  crov.Ti  8vo, 
with  Frontispiece,  cloth,  5s. 

The    History  of  a    Book.      By  Annie  Carey, 

Author    of   "Threads   of    Knowledge."      Illustrated    throughout. 
176  pp.,  e.xtra  fc?p.  4to,  cloth  gilt,  3s.  6d. 

Patsy's   First  Glimpse  of  Heaven.    By  the 

Author  of  "  Scraps  of  Knowledge,"*c.  &c.     Cloth,  is. 


Fairy   Tales  Told    Again.      With  24  full-page 

Illustrations  by  Gust.we  Doki?:.     Imp.  8vo,  6s. 

The   Child's   Book   of  Song   and    Praise- 

With  250  Illustrations  and  33   Pieces  of  Music,  with  Accompani- 
ments.    Second  Edition.     Cloth,  5s.  ;  cloth  gilt,  gilt  edges,  6s.  6d. 

Working  to  Win.     A  Story  for  Girls.     By  Maggie 

Symington.    With  Illustrations.     Cloth  gilt,  5s. 

Robinson    Crusoe.      Nr.v    Edition.      With    One 

Hundred  Illustrations.     Royal  8vo,  cloth,  5s.  ;  full  gilt,  6s.  6d, 

Sv/iss    Family  Robinson.    New  Edition.    With 

•      140  Illustrations  and  Coloured  Frontispiece.     Cloth  plain,  5s.  ;  full 
gilt,  6s.  6d. 


A  descriptive  List  of  Ckss^iA.,  Fetter,  &  G.-vlpin's  Children  s  Books  will  be  foi-warded  post  free  07i  application. 

MISCELLANEOUS     WORKS. 


A    Book     of    Fair    "Women.      Contammg   40 

highly-finished  Engravings,  beautifully  printed,  with  appropriate 
Poems  by  various  authors.  Printed  on  superfine  paper,  extra  fcap. 
4to,  bevelled  boards,  gilt  edges,  6s.  _ 

Bre-wer's     Dictionary     of     Phrase     and 

Fable;  giving  the  Derivation,  Source,  or  Origin  of  Common 
Phrases,  .Allusions,  and  Words  that  have  a  Tale  to  Tell.  By  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Brewer.  Third  Edition.  Demy  8vo,  1,000  pp.,  cloth, 
10s.  6d. 

Burns'    Poetical   Works.     Edited  by  Charles 

CowDEN  Clarke.     Complete  in  Two  Volumes,  cloth,  each,  2S. 

Cassell's  Family  Continental  Hand-book. 

A  Guide  to  the  Health  Resorts  of  the  Continent.     By  Rev.  F.  J.  C. 

MORAN.      Cloth,  2S. 

Cassell's     Magazine.      A    High-class    Illustrated 

Magazine.  Weekly,  id  ;  Monthly,  6d.  Vol.  VII.  now  ready. 
Illustrated  throughout.     Cloth  gilt,  5s.  6d. 

Chapters  on  Trees.  A  Popular  Account  of  their 
Nature  and  Uses.  By  M.  and  E.  Kirbv,  Authors  of  "  The  Birds 
of  the  Land  and  Water."  Profusely  Illustrated.  320  pp.,  extra 
crown  8vo,  cloth  gilt,  ^s. 

Civil   Service,  Guide  to    Employment  in 

the.  Ne^u  Edition.  With  an  Introduction  by  J.  D.  Morell, 
LL.D.     Containing  the  New  Regulations  complete.     Cloth,  2S.  M. 

Civil    Service,   Guide   to  the    Indian.      By 

A.  C.  EwALD,  F.S.A.     Nnv  and  Cheaper  Edition.     Cloth,  2S.  6d. 

Cobden    Club    Essays.      Second    Series, 

1871-2.      Seco'id  Edition.     500  pp.,  demy,  cloth,  155. 

Cowper's  Poetical  "Works.   Edited  by  Charles 

Cowden  Clarke.  With  Memoir,  Notes,  &c.  900  pp.,  post  8vo, 
cloth.  Two  Vols.,  price  2S.  each. 

English  Heraldry.    By  Rev.  Charles  Boutell, 

M.A.  With  460  Engravings.  New  Editioit.  Crown  8vo,  368  pp. 
cloth,  gilt  top,  5s. 

Facts  and  Hints  for  Every-day  Life.    A 

Comprehensive  Book  on  Every  Subject  connected  with  the  Comforts 
of  Home  and  the  Health  and  Prosperity  of  its  Inmates.  Second 
Editio7i.  Cloth,  2s.  6d. 
Golden  Days.  Being  Experiences  of  an  English  Giri  s 
School  Life  in  Germany.  By  Jeanie  Hering,  Author  of 
"Little  Pickles,"  &c.  With  Frontispiece.  320  pp.,  crown  8vo, 
cloth,  gilt  edges,  5s. 

Herbert's  Poetical  Works.    Edited  by  Ch.\rles 

Cowden  Clarke.     With  Notes,  &c.  &c.     4°°  PP-.  cloth,  2s. 


Manners  of  Modern  Society.  A  Compre- 
hensive Work  on  the  Etiquette  of  the  Present  Day.  Third  Edition. 
Cloth  gilt,  2S.  6d. 

Parliamentary     Anecdote,     A    Book    of. 

Compiled  from  Authentic  Sources  by  G.  H.  Jennings  .ind  W.  S. 
Johnstone.     416  pp.,  5s. 

Pictures    of   School    Life    and    Boyhood. 

Being  Selections  from  the  best  Authors  bearing  on  School-days 
and  Boyhood.  Edited  by  Percy  Fitzgerald,  M.A.  Cloth, 
crown  8to,  256  pp.,  with  Frontispiece,  3s.  6d. 

Pope's    Poetical   Works.      Edited  by  Charles 

Cowden  Clarke.     With  Notes,  Memoir,  &c.  Two  Vols.,  2s.  each. 
Scott's    Poetical    ^^'^orks.       In  Bold  Type,  with 
Memoir,  Notes,  &c.     Three  Volumes,  cloth,  lettered,  6s. 

Soldier  and  Patriot.  The  Story  of  George  Wash- 
ington. By  F.  M.  Owen.  Illustrated.  256  pp.,  crown  8vo,  cloth, 
3s.  6d. 

The  Book  of  Good  Devices.  With  i,ooo  Pre- 
cepts for  Practice.  Edited  by  Godfrey  Golding.  Cloth  gilt,  gilt 
edges,  5s. 

The  North-West  Passage   by   Land.     By 

Vi.scount  Milton,  F.R.G.S.,  and  W.  B.  Cheadle,  M.A.,  M.D., 
F.R.G.S.  Demy  8vo,  cloth,  with  Twenty-two  full-page  Illustrations 
and  Two  Maps.  Sixth  Edition,  21s.  Smaller  Edition,  Fifth 
Tliousami,  complete,  with  Eight  Illustrations,  crown  8vo,  cloth,  6s. 

The  Practical  Poultry  Keeper.  Fifth  Edition. 

A  Standard  Guide  to  the  Management  of  Poultry  for  Domestic  Use, 
the  Market,  or  Exhibition.  By  L.  Wright.  With  48  Plain  Illus- 
trations.    Cloth,  3s.  6d.;  or  36  Plain  and  12  Coloured  Plates,  5s. 

The  Quiver.  A  Magazine  for  Sunday  and  General 
Reading.  Weekly,  id.  ;  Monthly,  6d.  ;  and  Veariy  Volumes, 
7s.  6d.  The  Vol.  for  1873,  super-royal  8vo,  816  pp.,  now  ready.  Il- 
lustrated throughout,  7s.  6d. 

The   Romance  of  Trade.     Being  Essays  on  the 

Rise  and  Progress  of  Commerce,  with  a  Relation  of  the  Romantic 
Episodes  connected  with  its  History.  By  H.  R.  Fox-Bourne. 
Cloth,  5s. 

Thomson's     Poetical     Works.       Edited     by 

Charles  Cowden  Clarke.    With  Notes,  Memoir,  &c.     400  pp.» 
cloth,  2s. 
Three      Homes.       A    Tale   for   Fathers  and    Sons. 
By  F.  T.  L.   Hope.    400  pp.,  cloth,  5s. 

Young's  Poetical  Works.     Edited  by  Charles 

Cowden  Clarke.     With  Notes,  Memoir,  &c.     Cloth,  2S. 


^The  following  CATALOGUES  of  CASSELL,  PET 
from  all  Booksellers,  or  post  free 

CASSELL'S   DESCRIPTIVE   CATALOGUE, 

containing  a  Complete  List  of  their  various  Works,  including  Bibles    j 
and  Religious  Literature,   Children's  Books,  Dictionaries,  Educa-    [ 
tional  Works,  Fine  Art  Volumes,  Hand-books  and  Guides,  History, 
Miscellaneous,  Natural  Histor>',  Poetry,  Travels,  Serials.  Annuals. 

CASSELL'S    CLASSIFIED    LIST,   containing  a 

List  of  Books  arranged  according  to  their  value,  from  6d.  upwards. 


TER,  &  GALPIN'S  PUBLICATIONS  can  be  had 
on  application  to  the  Publishers. 

CASSELL'S  EDUCATIONAL  CATALOGUE, 

containing  a  Description  of  their  numerous  Educational  Works,  &c., 
with  Specimen  Pages  and  Illustrations,  including  their  Elementarj' 
and  Technical  Series,  together  with  a  List  of  their  Mathematical 
Instruments,  Water  Colours,  &c. 

CASSELL'S  FOREIGN  CATALOGUE,  con- 
taining a  carefully-prepared  List  of  the  best  French,  German. 
Spanish,  Italian,  and  other  Works  kept  in  stock  by  Cassell, 
Petter,  &  Galpin. 


Cassell,  Fetter,  ^^  Galpin,  Ludgate  Hill,  London;  Faris;  and  New  York. 


r^ 


1751 


DEC  1  5 1992