  Its River, Prison, and Marriages. ____________ ONLY a little tributary to the Thames, the River Fleet, generally, and ignominiously, called the Fleet Ditch, yet it is historically interesting, not only on account of the different places through which its murmuring stream meandered, almost all of which have some story of their own to tell, but the reminiscences of its Prison stand by themselves—pages of history, not to be blotted out, but to be recorded as valuable in illustration of the habits, and customs, of our forefathers. The City of London, in its early days, was well supplied with water, not only by the wells dug near houses, or by the public springs, some of which still exist, as Aldgate Pump, &c., and the River Thames; The name of this little river has exercised many minds, and has been the cause of spoiling much good paper. My own opinion, backed by many antiquaries, is that a Fleet means a brook, or tributary to a larger river, which is so wide, and deep, at its junction with the greater stream as to be navigable for the small craft then in use, for some little distance. Thus, we have the names on the Thames of Purfleet, Northfleet, and Southfleet, and the same obtains in other places. Its derivation seems to be Saxon—at least, for our language. Thus, in Bosworth's "Dictionary of the Anglo-Saxon Language," we find, "Flede-Fledu: part. Flooded; overflowed: tumidus Again, the same author gives: "Fleot (Plat fleet, m. a small river; Ger. flethe. f. a channel). A place where vessels float, a bay, gulf, an arm of the sea, the mouth of a river, a river; hence the names of places, as Northfleet, Southfleet, Kent; and in London, Fleet ditch; sinus. Another great Anglo-Saxon scholar—Professor Skeat, in "An Etymological Dictionary of the English Language": "Fleet, a creek, bay. In the names North-fleet, Fleet Street, &c. Fleet Street was so named from the Fleet Ditch; and fleet was given to any shallow creek, or stream, or channel of water. See Halliwell. M.E. fleet (Promptorium Parvulorum, &c., p. 166). A.S. fleÓt, a bay of the sea, as in Soes Fleot, bay of the sea. Ælfred's tr. of Beda, i. 34. The French, too, have a cognate term, especially in Norman towns, as Barfleur, Honfleur, Harfleur, &c., which were originally written Barbeflot, Huneflot, and Hareflot: and these were sometimes written Hareflou, Huneflou, and Barfleu, which latter comes very near to But it has another, and a very pretty name, "The River of Wells," from the number of small tributaries that helped to swell its stream, and from the wells which bordered its course; such as Sadler's Wells, Bagnigge Wells, White Conduit, Coldbath, Lamb's Conduit, Clerkenwell—all of which (although all were not known by those names in Stow's times) were in existence. Stow, in his "Survey of London" (ed. 1603, his last edition, and which consequently has his best corrections), says—
From this account of Stow's we find that the stream of the Fleet, although at one time navigable, had ceased to be so in his time, but we see, by the frontispiece, which is taken from a painting (in the Guildhall Art Gallery) by Samuel Scot, 1770 (?) that the mouth of the Fleet river, or ditch, call it which you like, was still, not only navigable, but a place of great resort for light craft. The name "River of Wells" is easily to be understood, if we draw again upon Stow, who, in treating of "Auncient and present Riuers, Brookes, Boorns, Pooles,
Here, then, we have a list of Wells, which are, together
CHAPTER II.LONDON, for its size, was indeed very well supplied with water, although, of course, it was not laid on to every house, as now, but, with the exception of those houses provided with wells, it had to be fetched from fixed public places, which were fairly numerous. When the waters of the Fleet, and Wallbrook, in the process of time, became contaminated, Henry III., in the 21st year of his reign (1236), granted to the Citizens of London the privilege of conveying the waters of the Tye-bourne through leaden pipes to the City, "for the poore to drinke, and the rich to dresse their meate." And it is only a few years since, that close by what is now called "Sedley Place," Oxford Street, but which used to be the old hunting lodge of bygone Lord Mayors, some of these very pipes were unearthed, a fine cistern being uncovered at the same time. For public use there were the great Conduit in West The Fleet river (I prefer that title to the other cognomen, "Ditch"), flowing through London, naturally became somewhat befouled, and in Henry the VII.'s time, circa 1502, it was cleansed, so that, as aforesaid, "boats with fish and fewel were rowed to Fleete bridge, and to Oldburne bridge." We also know, as Stow records, that more springs were introduced into the stream from Hampstead, without effect, either as to deepening or purifying the river, which had an evil reputation even in the time of Edward I., as we see in Ryley's "Placita Parliamentaria" (ed. 1661), p. 340—
Latin for which a modern schoolboy would get soundly rated, or birched, but which tells us that even as far back as Edward I. the Fleet river was a nuisance; and as the endorsement (Patent Roll 35 Edward I.) shows—"De cursu aquÆ de Fleta supervivendo et corrigendo," i.e., that the Fleet river should be looked after and amended. But the Commission issued to perfect this work was discontinued, owing to the death of the king. (Patent Roll 1 Edward II., pars 1. m. dorso.) "De Cursu AquÆ Flete, &c., reducend et impedimenta removend." And Prynne, in his edition of Cotton's "Records" (ed. 1669, p. 188), asks "whether such a commission and inquiry to make this river navigable to Holborn Bridge or Clerkenwell, would not now be seasonable, and a work worthy to be undertaken for the public benefit, trade, and health of the City and Suburbs, I humbly submit to the wisdom and judgment of those whom it most Concerns." So that it would appear, although otherwise stated, that the Fleet was not navigable in May, 1669, the date of the publication of Prynne's book. As a matter of fact it got to be neither more nor less than an open sewer, to which the lines in Coleridge's "Table Talk" would well apply— "In CÖln, that town of monks and bones, And pavements fang'd with murderous stones, And rags, and hags, and hideous wenches, I counted two-and-seventy stenches; All well-defined and genuine stinks! Ye nymphs, that reign o'er sewers and sinks, The river Rhine, it is well known, Doth wash the City of Cologne; But, tell me, nymphs, what power divine Shall henceforth wash the River Rhine?" The smell of the Fleet river was notorious; so much so, that Farquhar, in his Sir Harry Wildair, act ii., says, "Dicky! Oh! I was just dead of a Consumption, till the sweet smoke of Cheapside, and the dear perfume of Fleet Ditch made me a man again!" In Queen Anne's time, too, it bore an evil reputation: vide The Tatler "Now from all parts the swelling kennels flow, And bear their trophies with them as they go: Filth of all hues and odours seem to tell What street they sail'd from, by their sight and smell. They, as each torrent drives, with rapid force, From Smithfield or St. Pulchre's shape their course, And in huge confluent join'd at Snow Hill ridge, Fall from the Conduit, prone to Holborn Bridge. Sweepings from butchers' stalls, dung, guts, and blood, Drown'd puppies, stinking sprats, all drench'd in mud, Dead cats and turnip-tops come tumbling down the flood." We get a glimpse of prehistoric London, and the valley of the Fleet, in Gough's "British Topography," vol. i. p. 719 (ed. 1780). Speaking of John Conyers, "apothecary, one of the first Collectors of antiquities, especially those relating to London, when the City was rebuilding.... He inspected most of the gravel-pits near town for different sorts and shapes of stones. In one near the sign of Sir J. Oldcastle, about 1680, he discovered the skeleton of an elephant, which he supposed had lain there only since the time of the Romans, who, in the reign of Claudius, fought the Britons near this place, according to Selden's notes on the Polyolbion. In the same pit he found the head of a British spear of flint, afterwards in the hands of Dr. Charlett, and engraved in Bagford's letter." We, now-a-days, with our more accurate knowledge of As a matter of course, a little river like the Fleet must have become the receptacle of many articles, which, once dropped in its waters, could not be recovered; so that it is not surprising to read in the Mirror of March 22, 1834 (No. 653, p. 180), an account of antiquarian discoveries therein, which, if not archÆologically correct, is at least interesting.
A paper was read, on June 11, 1862, to the members of the British ArchÆological Association, by Mr. Ganston, who exhibited various relics lately recovered from the bed of the river Fleet, but they were not even of archÆological importance—a few knives, the earliest dating from the fifteenth century, and a few knife handles. Previously, at a meeting of the same Society, on December 9, 1857, Mr. C. H. Luxmore exhibited a green glazed earthenware jug of the sixteenth century, found in the Fleet. And, before closing this antiquarian notice of the Fleet, I cannot but record some early mention of the river which occur in the archives of the Corporation of the City of London:—
The northern heights of London, the "ultima Thule" of men like Keats, and Shelley, abound in springs, which form the bases of several little streams, which are fed on their journey to their bourne, the Thames (to which they act as tributaries), by numerous little brooklets and rivulets, which help to swell their volume. On the northern side of the ridge which runs from Hampstead to Highgate, birth is given to the Brent, which, springing from a pond in the grounds of Sir Spencer Wells, is pent up in a large reservoir at Hendon, and finally debouches into the Thames at Brentford, where, SHEPHERD'S WELL, HAMPSTEAD. SHEPHERD'S WELL, HAMPSTEAD. On the southern side of the ridge rise the Tybourne, and the Westbourne. The former had its rise in a spring called Shepherd's Well, in Shepherd's Fields, Hampstead, which formed part of the district now known as Belsize Park and FitzJohn's Avenue, which is the finest road of private houses in London. Shepherd's The Westbourne took its rise in a small pond near "Telegraph Hill," at Hampstead; two or three brooklets joined it, and it ran its course across the Finchley Road, to the bottom of Alexandra Road, Kilburn, where it was met by another stream, which had its source at Frognal, Hampstead. It then became the West bourne, Its course may be traced down Kilburn Park Road, and Shirland Road. Crossing the Harrow Road where now is Westbourne Park Station, Eastbourne and Westbourne Terraces mark the respective banks, and, after crossing the Uxbridge Road, it runs into the Serpentine at the Engine House. Feeding that sheet of water, it comes out again at the Albert Gate end, runs by Lowndes Square, Cadogan Place, &c., and, finally, falls into the river at Chelsea Hospital.
CHAPTER III.THE Fleet, as far as can be ascertained, owes its birth to an ornamental water, fed by springs—one of the numerous ponds in Highgate and Hampstead—in the park of Ken Wood, the seat of Earl Mansfield, now occasionally occupied by the fourth successor to that title; who, being keeper of the royal Castle of Scone, prefers, as a rule, his northern residence. In the No Popery riots of 1780, with which Lord George Gordon was so intimately connected, Ken Wood House was on the brink of being destroyed by the rioters, who had, already, wrecked his lordship's house in Bloomsbury Square, and destroyed his most valuable library. Tradition says that Ken Wood was saved owing to the landlord of "The Spaniards," well known to all pedestrian frequenters of Hampstead, giving them his beer, &c., until they were incapacitated, or unwilling, to fulfil their quest, meanwhile sending messengers for the Horse Guards, who opportunely arrived, and prevented the destruction of the mansion. It is quite possible Commencing thus in one of the prettiest parts of the most picturesque suburbs of London, it flows from one to the other, right through the chain of the Highgate Ponds, fed by several rills, the first being near the Hampstead end of Millfield Lane—which is, by some, regarded as its source. From the lower pond it crossed the Highgate Road, and, for some distance, it ran parallel with it, although a little way eastward. It again crossed the Highgate Road not far from its junction with the Kentish Town Road, the course of which it followed, until it came to Hawley Road, where it was joined by a sister brook, whose source was the pond in the Vale of Health at Hampstead, flowing from which, it was fed by a brooklet, over which the abortive viaduct of Sir Thomas Marion Wilson's construction is carried. It ran into, and through, the Hampstead Ponds, which end at the lower east heath, near Pond Street (a locality
Its memory is still retained in the Fleet Road. On its way through Kentish Town it passed through a purely pastoral country, such as we, who know the district only as covered with houses, can hardly reconcile with existing circumstances. The Guildhall Collection relating to the Fleet River, is very rich in water-colour drawings and pen-and-ink sketches of undoubted authenticity, and from them I have selected what, in my opinion, are the most suitable for this work. From the above, and this view of Highgate, so late back as 1845, we can fairly judge of the pleasant THE FLEET, KENTISH TOWN. Circa 1837. THE FLEET, KENTISH TOWN. Circa 1837. Here we see the Fleet running its quiet course—and the other sketches bear witness to its rurality. VIEW OF THE VALLEY OF THE FLEET AND HIGHGATE CHURCH, FROM FORTESS TERRACE, KENTISH TOWN, SEPT. 28, 1845. VIEW OF THE VALLEY OF THE FLEET AND HIGHGATE CHURCH, FROM FORTESS TERRACE, KENTISH TOWN, SEPT. 28, 1845. (Water colour by A. Crosby.) After the Fleet had recrossed the Highgate Road near the junction of that road and the Kentish Town Road, it passed near the Gospel Oak, which now gives its name to a railway station in the locality. About this oak, there was a tradition that it was so called because St. Augustine preached underneath its boughs—a fact which is probably as correct as the story that the Church of St. Pancras was the first Christian Church in England. In truth, there are, or were, many Gospel Oaks and Elms throughout the country; for instance, there is an iron foundry near the parishes of Tipton THE FLEET AT KENTISH TOWN. THE FLEET AT KENTISH TOWN In the "Bury Wills," p. 118, is the following passage in the will of John Cole of Thelnetham, dated May 8, And, in the poem of Herrick's "Hesperides," which is addressed "To Anthea." Dearest, bury me Under that holy Oke, or Gospel Tree; Where, (though thou see'st not,) thou may'st think upon Me, when thou yerely go'st procession." It also passed near Parliament, or Traitors', Hill—a name which is much in dispute; some maintaining that it was fortified by the Parliamentary Army, under Cromwell, for the protection of London, others that the 5th of November conspirators met here to view the expected explosion of the Houses of Parliament. This, which forms the most southern part of Hampstead Heath, and therefore the nearest, and most accessible to the great bulk of Londoners, has a beautiful view of Highgate and London, and has, I am happy to say, been preserved as an open space for the public. THE FLEET AT KENTISH TOWN. THE FLEET AT KENTISH TOWN. We have now followed the Fleet in its course to Kentish Town, the etymon of which is, to say the least, In still older times it formed part of the great Middlesex forest, which was full of wolves, wild boars, deer, and wild oxen; but we find that, in 1252, Henry III. granted to Thomas Ive, permission to inclose a portion of the highway adjoining his mansion at Kentessetone. And in 1357, John of Oxford, who was Mayor of London in 1341, gave, amongst other things, to the Priory of the Holy Trinity, in London, a mill at Kentish Town—which, of course, must have been turned by the Fleet. The kind donor was one of the very few Mayors who died during his mayoralty. It is said, too, that Nell Gwynne had a house in Kentish Town, but I can find not the slightest confirmation of the rumour; still, as there is a very good pen-and-ink sketch of the old house said to be hers, OLD HOUSE, KENTISH TOWN, SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN NELL GWYNNE'S. OLD HOUSE, KENTISH TOWN, SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN NELL GWYNNE'S. And there was another old house close by the Fleet there, an old farmhouse known as Brown's dairy. THE FLEET AT KENTISH TOWN—BROWNE'S DAIRY FARM, SEPT. 21, 1833. THE FLEET AT KENTISH TOWN—BROWNE'S DAIRY FARM, SEPT. 21, 1833. This old Farmhouse had, evidently, a nobler origin, for it was moated; and, in 1838, the moat existed on CASTLE, KENTISH TOWN ROAD, 1848. CASTLE, KENTISH TOWN ROAD, 1848. The Castle Inn is said to have been the oldest house in Kentish Town, and there is a tradition that Lord Nelson once lived here, "in order that he might keep his eye upon the Fleet," and planted a sycamore in the garden. Before taking leave of Kentish Town, I cannot help recording a legal squabble, which resulted in a victory for the public.—Times, February 12, 1841:—
The Fleet babbled through the meadows, until its junction with that other stream which flowed from the pond in the Vale of Health at Hampstead, which took place where now is Hawley Street, and the united brook, or river, ran across what are now the Kentish, and Camden, Town Roads, and between Great College Street, and King Street; it then followed the course of the present road to King's Cross, passing by St. Pancras Church—which, originally, was of great antiquity, and close by which was a celebrated healing well, known as Pancras' Wells. These waters cured everything—scurvy, king's evil, leprosy, cancers, ulcers, rheumatism, disorders of the eyes, and pains of the stomach and bowels, colds, worms, &c., &c. In the Church, and Churchyard, were interred many illustrious dead, especially Roman Catholics, who seem to have taken a particular fancy to have their remains buried there, probably on account of the tradition that this was the last church in which mass was celebrated. It was a favourite burial-place of the French clergy— THE BRILL. THE BRILL. Many historical names are here preserved—amongst whom are Pasco de Paoli, the famous Corsican; Walker, whose dictionary is still a text book; the Chevalier d'Eon, respecting whose sex there was once such a controversy; Count O'Rourke, famous in the world of fashion in 1785; Mrs. Godwin—better known, perhaps, as Mary Woolstencraft—who also was married here; William Woollett, the eminent landscape engraver, a branch of art in which he may be said to have been the father; Samuel Cooper, whose miniatures cannot be surpassed; Scheemaker the younger, a sculptor of no small note. Nor in this campo santo was Music unrepresented, for there, amongst But Dr. Stukeley, who certainly had Roman Camps on the brain, discovered one in the Brill. He planned it out beautifully. Here were the Equites posted, there the Hastati, and there were the Auxiliarii. He made the Fleet do duty for a moat which nearly surrounded CÆsar's PrÆtorium, and he placed a Forum close by St. Pancras' Church, to the northward of which he assigned a PrÆtorium to Prince Mandubrace. Is it not true? for is it not all written in his "Itinerary"? and does he not devote the first seventeen pages of the second volume of that work, entirely to the Brill, assuring us of the great pleasure he received in striding over the ground—following, in imagination, the footsteps of the Roman Camp Master, who paced out the dimensions of the Camp? CHAPTER IV.THAT it was countrified about this part of London, is shown by the accompanying Copy of an engraving, by J. T. Smith, of a view "near Battle Bridge." The etymology of Battle Bridge, which consists of only one arch, and now forms a part of the Fleet Sewer, is a much vexed question. At one time it was an article of faith, not to be impugned, that here, A.D. 61, was fought the famous battle between the Romans, under Suetonius Paulinus, and the Britons, under Boadicea, Queen of the Iceni, which ended so disastrously for the natives—eighty thousand of whom are said to have been killed. But there seems to be a doubt, as to whether this was the exact spot where this historical contest took place, for Tacitus makes no mention of the little river Fleet, which must then have been navigable for light and small craft, for an anchor was found, in its bed, at Kentish Town. He only describes it (Tacit. Ann. lib. xiv. c. 34) a spot of BATTLE BRIDGE. BATTLE BRIDGE. In the first quarter of this century the Fleet, for the greater part of its time, ran placidly along, as we see by these two pen-and-ink sketches, taken at Battle Bridge.
BATTLE BRIDGE. BATTLE BRIDGE. There must have been a Mill here, for Stow tells us that in the reign of Edward VI. "A Miller of Battaile Bridge was set on the Pillory in Cheape, and had both his eares cut off, for seditious words by him spoken against the Duke of Somerset." BATTLE BRIDGE. BATTLE BRIDGE. Here, as elsewhere, just outside London, the road was The name of "Battle Bridge" is well-nigh forgotten, and "King's Cross" reigns in its stead. Yet how few Londoners of the present generation know whence the name is derived! If they ever trouble their heads about it at all, they probably imagine that it was a cross, like the Eleanor Crosses, raised to the memory of some king. And what king, think you, was it intended to keep in perpetual remembrance? None other than his Most Gracious Majesty King George the Fourth, of pious memory. Why this monument was raised I have never been able to learn, unless it was to celebrate his death, There hardly seems to be any connection between "the first gentleman in Europe" and dustmen, but there is a slight link. Battle Bridge was peculiarly the home of the necessary dustman, and in a song called "The Literary Dustman," commencing— "They call me Adam Bell, 'tis clear That Adam vos the fust man, And by a co-in-side-ance queer Vy I'm the fust of dustmen," is the following verse:— "Great sculptors all conwarse wi' me, And call my taste divine, sirs, King George's statty at King's Cross, Vos built from my design, sirs." Close by here, in Gray's Inn Road, was a mountain of refuse and dust; but it was as profitable as were the heaps of Mr. Boffin in Charles Dickens's "Our Mutual Friend." This mound once had a curious clearance, so it is said. It was bought in its entirety, and sent over to Russia, to help make bricks to rebuild Moscow; and the ground on which it stood was, in 1826, sold to a Company for £15,000. DUST HEAP AT BATTLE BRIDGE. DUST HEAP AT BATTLE BRIDGE. "My dawning Genus fust did peep, Near Battle Bridge,'tis plain, sirs: You recollect the cinder heap, Vot stood in Gray's Inn Lane, sirs?" Let us turn to a sweeter subject, and gossip about St. Chad's Well, the site of which is now occupied by A good modern account is given in Hone's "Every Day Book," vol. i. pp. 323, 4, 5, which, as it was taken from actual observation about fifty years since, may well be transcribed. Speaking of the aforesaid dust-heap he says:—
Roadside Marker
But, although the prophecy in "Hone" was destined ST. CHAD'S WELL. ST. CHAD'S WELL. It was a good sized piece of ground; in shape of a somewhat irregular triangle, of which the base measured about 200 feet, and from apex to base 95 feet. It was Copyhold. The vendor was not to be asked for a title prior to 1793, and it was held of the Manor of Cantlowes or Cantlers, subject to a small fine, certain, of 6s. 8d., on death or alienation, and to a Quit Rent of 5d. per annum. We should say, nowadays, that the assessment was very small, as, including the large gardens, both back and front, the whole was only valued, including What would not the waters of St. Chad's Well cure? Really I think the proprietor hardly knew himself, for a handbill I have before me commences— "The celebrity of these waters being confined chiefly to its own immediate vicinity for a number of years; the present proprietor has thought proper to give more extensive publicity to the existence of a nostrum provided by Nature, through Divine Providence, approaching nearest that great desideratum of scientific men and mankind in general, throughout all ages; namely, an Universal Medicine.... The many cures yearly performed by these waters does not come within the limits of a handbill, but, suffice it to say, that here, upon trial, the sufferer finds a speedy and sure relief from Indigestion and its train, Habitual Costiveness, the extensive range of Liver Complaints, Dropsy in its early stages, Glandular Obstructions, and that bane of life, Scrophula; for Eruptions on the Face or Skin its almost immediate efficacy needs but a trial." This wonderful water, with use of garden, was then, say 1835, supposed to be worth to the sufferer £1 per annum, or threepence a visit, or you might have it supplied at eightpence per gallon. And yet it seems only to have been a mild aperient, and rather dear at the price. In the Mirror of April 13, 1833, Mr. Booth, Professor of Chemistry, professed to give an analysis of the "Mineral Waters in the neighbourhood of London," and he thus writes of St. Chad's Neither does the proprietor, one Wm. Lucas, who not only propounded the handbill from which I have quoted, but published a pamphlet on the healing virtues of the spring, and he also adds to Mr. Booth's qualitative analysis, "a small quantity of Iron, which is held in Solution by Carbonic Acid." "The Well from which the Waters are supplied, is excluded from the external air; the Water when freshly drawn is perfectly clear and pellucid, and sparkles when poured into a glass; to the taste it is slightly bitter, not sufficiently so to render it disagreeable; indeed, Persons often think it so palatable as to take it at the table for a common beverage." This, however, is slightly at variance with the following, "As a Purgative, more so than could be inferred from their taste, a pint is the ordinary dose for an Adult, which operates pleasantly, powerfully, and speedily:" qualities which are scarcely desirable for a Table water. That, at one time, this Well was in fashion, although in 1825 it was in its decadence, I may quote from the pamphlet (which, however, must be taken by the reader, quantum valeat):
CHAPTER V.AS the Fleet was "the River of Wells" it may be as well to notice the Wells, which, although not absolutely contributing towards swelling its volume, are yet closely adjacent—namely, White Conduit, and Sadlers Wells. Both of these, as indeed were all the other Wells about London, were first known as mineral springs, a fact which drew the middle classes to seek relief from real, or fancied, ailments, by drinking the medicinal waters, as at Bath, Epsom, Cheltenham, Harrogate, Brixton, and elsewhere. Wherever people congregate, the mere drinking of salutary water, is but tame work, and the animal spirits of some of them must find an outlet in amusements, which materially assist, to say the least, in the agreeable passing of time. But the mere drinking of waters must have been irksome—even if people took to it as well as Shadwell in his play of "Epsom Wells" describes:— THE WHITE CONDUIT. THE WHITE CONDUIT.
By degrees these medicinal waters, or Spas, as they were termed in later times, fell into desuetude, possibly because medical knowledge was advancing; and the Wells, with their gardens attached, became places of outdoor recreation, where the sober citizen could smoke his pipe, and have his beer, or cider, whilst his wife, and her gossips, indulged in tittle tattle over their Tea—which, although much dearer than at present, was a very popular beverage, and so, from health resorts, they imperceptibly merged into the modern Tea Garden—which, in its turn, has become nearly extinct, as have the Ranelagh and Vauxhall of a former age; which, however, we have seen, in our time, somewhat resuscitated in the outdoor portion of the several Exhibitions which have taken place, in the few past years, at South Kensington. The White Conduit had a history of its own, which we can trace back, at all events, to the fifteenth century, for it was built as a reservoir to supply what was, afterwards, the Charterhouse. This we can see by a royal licence, dated December 2, 9 Henry VI. an. 1431, As we know, Henry VIII. put an end to the Monastic Orders in England, and, at the dissolution of the Priory, the reversion of the site, and house thereof, was granted, on April 14, 1545, But, although the spring might, and did, supply the Charter House, yet it is possible that the Conduit House, from which it got the name of White Conduit, from its being built of white stone—was built by Thomas Sutton, who founded the Hospital of the Charter House,—in 1611. It was either built by him, or repaired in 1641, for, incorporated in the building, was a stone containing his arms—and initials. The other initials have not been identified. As the "White Conduit" it was known well into this century, but it fell somewhat into decay, about 1812—was never repaired, and, finally, was pulled down in 1831—to make STONE IN THE WHITE CONDUIT. STONE IN THE WHITE CONDUIT. Gentleman's Magazine, vol. lxxi. p. 1161, A.D. 1801. So much for the Conduit itself; but it, although inert, exercised a large share in the amusements of Londoners down to a comparatively recent period. It was pleasantly situated in the fields, and, until this century, during the latter half of which, the modern Babylon has become one huge mass of bricks and mortar, it served as a pleasant place of recreation for the Cits. There was an uninterrupted prospect of Hampstead and Highgate—which bounded the northern view, and which was purely pastoral, with the exception of sparsely-dotted farmhouses. There is a tradition that, on the site of the comparatively modern White Conduit House, was (in the reign of Charles I.), a tavern in the course of erection, and that, being finished, the workmen were carousing at the very moment of the monarch's decapitation. Doubtless, in these suburban fields, there was, for very many years, a place for refreshment, which probably took the form, in the Arcadian age of the seventeenth and eighteenth century, of new milk, curds and whey, The earliest really authentic notice of the White Conduit House, I can find, is in the Daily Advertiser August 10, 1754. "This is to acquaint the public, that, at the White Conduit House, the proprietor, for the better accommodation of the gentlemen and ladies, has completed a long walk, with a handsome circular Fish-pond, a number of shady, pleasant arbours inclosed with a fence 7 feet high to prevent being the least incommoded from the people in the fields. Hot loaves, This gives us a very fair insight into the sober relaxations of our great-great-grandfathers: and that the White Conduit House was, about this time, a resort for harmless recreation; and, certainly, it would rejoice the modern temperance enthusiasts to find that the principal beverages there drank were "non-intoxicants." Oliver Goldsmith used frequently to go there, walking from his house at Islington; and, in his "Citizen of the World," letter 122, he writes, "After having surveyed the Curiosities of this fair and beautiful town, I proceeded forward, leaving a fair stone building on my right; here the inhabitants of London often assemble to celebrate a feast of hot rolls and butter. Seeing such numbers, each with their little tables before them, employed on this occasion, must no doubt be a very amusing sight to the looker-on, but still more so to those who perform in the Solemnity." And the same story of simplicity of amusement, and refreshment, is amusingly told in the Gentleman's Magazine for May, 1760, vol. xxx. p. 242, in a short poem by William Woty, the author of the "Shrubs of Parnassus, consisting of a variety of poetical essays, moral and comic, by I. Copywell, of Lincoln's Inn, Esq. 1760." "And to White Conduit House We will go, will go, will go." Grub Street Register. "Wish'd Sunday's come—mirth brightens ev'ry face, And paints the rose upon the housemaid's cheek Harriot, or Mol more ruddy. Now the heart Of prentice resident in ample street, Or alley, Kennel-wash'd Cheapside, Cornhill Or Cranborne, thee, for calcuments renown'd, With joy distends. His meal meridian o'er, With switch in hand, he to White Conduit house Hies merry hearted. Human beings here In couples multitudinous assemble, Forming the drollest groupe, that ever trod Fair Islingtonian plains. Male after male, Dog after dog, succeeding—husbands—wives— Fathers and mothers—brothers—sisters—friends— And pretty little boys and girls. Around, Across, along, the garden's shrubby maze, They walk, they sit, they stand. What crowds press on, Eager to mount the stairs, eager to catch First vacant bench or chair in long-room plac'd. Here prig with prig holds conference polite, And indiscriminate, the gaudy beau, And sloven mix. Here he, who all the week Took bearded mortals by the nose, or sat Weaving dead hairs, and whistling wretched strain, And eke the sturdy youth, whose trade it is Stout oxen to contend, with gold bound hat, And silken stocking strut. The red-arm'd belle Here shews her tasty gown, proud to be thought The butterfly of fashion: and, forsooth, Her haughty mistress deigns for once to tread The same unhallow'd floor. 'Tis hurry all, And ratling cups and saucers. Waiter here, And waiter there, and waiter here and there, At once is call'd—Joe—Joe—Joe—Joe—Joe— Joe on the right—and Joe upon the left, For ev'ry vocal pipe re-ecchoes Joe. Alas, poor Joe! Like Francis in the play He stands confounded, anxious how to please The many-headed throng. But shou'd I paint The language, humours, customs of the place, Together with all curtsy's lowly bows, And compliments extern, 'twould swell my page Beyond it's limits due. Suffice it then, For my prophetic muse to say, 'So long As fashion rides upon the Wing of time, While tea and cream, and buttered rolls can please, While rival beaux, and jealous belles exist, So long White Conduit house, shall be thy fame. W. W." Later on in the century, it was still a reputable place of resort. In 1774, there was a painting at one end of the garden, the perspective of which served, artificially, to augment its size; the round fish-pond in the centre of the garden, still existed, and the refreshment-rooms, or boxes, were hung with Flemish and other pictures. Hone ("Every Day Book," vol. ii. p. 1201, &c.) says, "About 1810, the late celebrated Wm. Huntingdon S.S. THE WHITE CONDUIT. THE WHITE CONDUIT. "The 'White Conduit' at this time (1826) merely stands to those who had the power, and neglected to preserve it. "To the buildings grown up around, it might have been rendered a neat ornament, by planting a few trees, and enclosing the whole with an iron railing, and have stood as a monument of departed worth. "'White Conduit House' has ceased to be a recreation in the good sense of the word. Its present denomination is the 'Minor Vauxhall,' and its chief attraction during the passing summer has been Mrs. Bland. WHITE CONDUIT GARDENS (INTERIOR). WHITE CONDUIT GARDENS (INTERIOR). WHITE CONDUIT GARDENS (EXTERIOR). WHITE CONDUIT GARDENS (EXTERIOR). As time went on, the place did not improve, as we may see by the New Monthly Magazine for 1833, in an article—part of "Four Views of London." Speaking of the White Conduit—"Here too is that Paradise of apprentice boys, White Cundick Couse, as it is cacophoniously pronounced by its visitors, which has done much to expel the decencies of the district. Thirty years ago this place was better frequented—that is, there was a larger number of respectable adults—fathers and It got more and more disreputable, until it was pulled down in 1849, and the present White Conduit Tavern was built upon a portion of its site.
CHAPTER VI.SADLER'S WELLS does not really feed the Fleet River, but I notice the spring, for the same reason that I noticed the White Conduit. A very fair account of its early history is given in a little pamphlet entitled "A True and Exact Account of Sadlers Well: or the New Mineral Waters. Lately found out at Islington: Treating of its nature and Virtues. Together with an Enumeration of the Chiefest Diseases which it is good for, and against which it may be used, and the Manner and Order of Taking of it. Published for publick good by T. G. (Thomas Guidot) Doctor of Physick. Printed for Thomas Malthus at the Sun in the Poultry. 1684." It begins thus:—"The New Well at Islington is a certain Spring in the middle of a Garden, belonging to the Musick House built by Mr. Sadler, on the North side of the Great Cistern that receives the New River Water near Islington, the Water whereof was, before the Reformation, very much famed for several extraordinary Cures performed thereby, and was, thereupon, accounted "Mr. Sadler being made Surveyor of the High Ways, and having good Gravel in his own Gardens, employed two Men to Dig there, and when they had Dug pretty deep, one of them found his Pickax strike upon some thing that was very hard; whereupon he endeavoured to break it, but could not: whereupon thinking with himself that it might, peradventure, be some Treasure hid there, he uncovered it very carefully, and found it to be a Broad, Flat Stone: which, having loosened, and lifted up, he saw it was supported by four Oaken Posts, and had under it a large Well of Stone Arched over, and curiously carved; and, having viewed it, he called his fellow Labourer to see it likewise, and asked him whether they should fetch Mr. Sadler, and shew it to him? Who, having no kindness for Sadler, said no; he should not know of it, but as they had found it, so they would stop it up again, and take no notice of it; which he that found it consented to at first, but after a little time he found himself (whether out of Curiosity, or some other reason, I shall not determine) strongly inclined to tell Sadler of the Well; which he did, one Sabbath Day in the Evening. "Sadler, upon this, went down to see the Well, and observing the Curiosity of the Stone Work, that was about it, and fancying within himself that it was a Medicinal Water, formerly had in great esteem, but by some accident or other lost, he took some of it in a Bottle, and carryed it to an Eminent Physician, telling him how the Well was found out, and desiring his Judgment of the Water; who having tasted and tried it, told him it was very strong of a Mineral taste, and advised him to Brew some Beer with it, and carry it to some Persons, to whom he would recommend him; which he did accordingly. And some of those who used to have it of him in Bottles, found so much good by it, that they desired him to bring it in Roundlets." Sadler's success, for such it was, provoked the envy of others, and one or two satires upon the Wells were produced. Soon after he opened the Wells, Evelyn visited them, as we read in his invaluable diary. "June 11, 1686. I went to see Middleton's receptacle of water That this was a fact is amply borne out by the testimony of Ned Ward, who managed to see most of what was going on in town, and he thus describes the sight in his rough, but vigorous language. "With much difficulty we crowded upstairs, where we soon got intelligence of the beastly scene in agitation. At last a table was spread with a dirty cloth in the middle of the room, furnished with bread, pepper, oil, and vinegar; but neither knife, plate, fork, or napkin; and when the beholders had conveniently mounted themselves upon one another's shoulders to take a fair view of his Beastlyness's banquet, in comes the lord of the feast, disguised in an Antick's Cap, like a country hangman, attended by a train of Newmarket executioners. When a chair was set, and he had placed himself in sight of the whole assembly, a live Cock was given into the ravenous paws of this ingurgitating monster." In the same year, in his "Walk to Islington," Ward gives a description of the people who frequented this "Musick House." It seems to have been kept by Francis Forcer, a musician, about 1725, and the scene at the Wells is graphically described in "The New River, a Poem, by William Garbott." "Through Islington then glides my best loved theme And Miles's garden washes with his stream: Now F—r's Garden is its proper name, Though Miles the man was, who first got it fame; And tho' it's own'd, Miles first did make it known, F—r improves the same we all must own. There you may sit under the shady trees, And drink and smoak, fann'd by a gentle breeze; Behold the fish, how wantonly they play, And catch them also, if you please, you may, Two Noble Swans swim by this garden side, Of water-fowl the glory and the pride; Which to the Garden no small beauty are; Were they but black they would be much more rare: With ducks so tame that from your hand they'll feed, And, I believe, for that, they sometimes bleed. A noble Walk likewise adorns the place, To which the river adds a greater grace: There you may sit or walk, do which you please, Which best you like, and suits most with your ease. Now to the Show-room let's awhile repair, To see the active feats performed there. How the bold Dutchman, on the rope doth bound, With greater air than others on the ground: What capers does he cut! how backward leaps! With Andrew Merry eyeing all his steps: His comick humours with delight you see, Pleasing unto the best of company," &c. But a very vivid description of Sadler's Wells is given in "Mackliniana, or Anecdotes of the late Mr. "Being met one night at Sadler's Wells by a friend, who afterwards saw him home, he went into a history of that place, with an accuracy which, though nature generally denies to the recollection of old age in recent events, seems to atone for it in the remembrance of more remote periods.
Space prevents one going into the merits of the Theatre here, but it may not be out of place if I mention some of the singers, and actors, who have appeared on those boards—Joey Grimaldi, Braham, Miss Shields (afterwards Mrs. Leffler), Edmund Kean, the great traveller Belzoni, Miss Tree, Phelps, of Shakespearian fame, Marston, and others, testify to the talent which has had its home in this theatre. One peculiarity about Sadler's Wells Theatre was the introduction of real water as a scenic effect. It seems to have been first used on Easter Monday, April 2, 1804, in an entertainment called Naumachia. A very large tank was made under the stage, and filled with water from the New River; and in this tank mimic men o' war bombarded Gibraltar, but were repulsed, with loss, by the heroic garrison. Afterwards, it was frequently used for Spectacles, in which water was used as an adjunct. After this digression let us follow the course of the River Fleet. Leaving St. Chad's Well, and before "For this was one of the best pinders That ever I tryed with sword." This old house was destroyed by a hurricane in November, 1723, when the two daughters of the landlord were killed by the falling walls. It was, however, at once rebuilt, and a public-house, bearing the same sign, exists at 328, Gray's Inn Road—most probably occupying the original site. >THE PINDAR OF WAKEFIELD. THE PINDAR OF WAKEFIELD. CHAPTER VII.BETWEEN this house, and Bagnigge Wells, was Bagnigge Wash, or Marsh, and Black Mary's Wells, or Hole. The etymology of this place is contested. In the Gentleman's Magazine for 1813, part ii. p. 557, in an "Account of various Mineral Wells near London," is the following: "Lastly, in the same neighbourhood, may be mentioned the spring or conduit on the eastern side of the road leading from Clerken Well to Bagnigge Wells, and which has given name to a very few small houses as Black Mary's Hole. The land here was, formerly, called Bagnigg Marsh, from the river Bagnigg, This etymon, however, is contested in a pamphlet called An experimental enquiry concerning the Contents, Qualities, Medicinal Virtues of the two Mineral Waters of Bagnigge Wells, &c., by John Bevis, M.D. This pamphlet was originally published in 1767, but I quote from the third edition of 1819. "At what time these waters were first known cannot be made out with any degree of evidence. A tradition goes that the place of old was called Blessed Mary's Well; but that the name of the Holy Virgin having, in some measure, fallen into disrepute after the Reformation, the title was altered to Black Mary's Well, as it now stands upon Mr. Rocque's map, and then to Black Mary's Hole; though there is a very different account of these latter appellations; for there are those who insist they were taken from one Mary Woolaston, whose occupation was attending at a well, now covered in, on an opposite eminence, by the footway from Bagnigge to Islington to supply the soldiery, encamped in the adjacent fields, with water. But waving such uncertainties, it may be relied on for truth, that a late proprietor, upon taking possession of But Black Mary's Hole, during the first half of the last century, had a very queer reputation. There was a little public-house with the sign of "The Fox at Bay," which probably had something to do with the numerous highway robberies that occurred thereabouts. In Cromwell's "History of Clerkenwell," pp. 318, 319, we hear of the last of Black Mary's Hole. He says, "Beneath the front garden of a house in Spring Place, and extending under the foot-pavement almost to the turnpike gate called the Pantheon Gate, lies the capacious receptacle of a Mineral Spring, which in former times was in considerable repute, both as a chalybeate, and for its supposed efficacy in the cure of sore eyes.... About ten years back, when Spring Place was erected, the builder removed every external appearance of Walter Baynes's labours, and converted the receptacle beneath into a cesspool for the drainage of his houses. The spring thus degraded, and its situation concealed, it is probable that the lapse of a few more years would have effaced the memory of it for ever, had not an accident re-discovered it in the summer of 1826. Its covering, which was only of boards, having rotted, suddenly gave way, and left a large chasm in the footpath. After some efforts, not perfectly successful, to turn off the drainage, it was then arched with brickwork, and a leaden pump placed over it, in the garden where it chiefly lies. But the pump being stolen during the following winter, the spring has again fallen Still following the Fleet to its outfall, we next come to Bagnigge Well, a chalybeate spring, first used medicinally, and then, like all these Spas, merely as a promenade, and place of out-of-door recreation. Originally, this spring probably belonged to the Nunnery at Clerkenwell, and may possibly be the "Rode Well" mentioned in the Register of Clerkenwell. But we are indebted to Dr. Bevis, from whose pamphlet I have already quoted, for a history of its modern rise and development (p. 38). "In the year 1757, the spot of ground in which this well is sunk was let out to a gentleman curious in gardening, who observed that the oftener he watered his flowers from it the worse they throve. I happened, toward the end of that summer, to be in company with a friend who made a transient visit to Mr. Hughes, and was asked to taste the water; and, being surprised to find its flavour so near that of the best German chalybeates, did not hesitate to declare my opinion, that it might be made of great benefit both to the public and himself. At my request, he sent me some of the water, in a large stone bottle, well corked, the next day; a gallon whereof I immediately set over a fire, and by a hasty evaporation found it very rich in mineral contents, though much less so than I afterwards experienced it to be when more leisurely exhaled by a gentle heat. Whilst this operation was carrying on, I made some experiments on the remainder of the water, particularly with powdered galls, which I found to give, in less than The house attached to the Spa is said to have been the residence of Nell Gwyn, but tradition has assigned her so many houses; at Chelsea, Bagnigge Wells, Highgate, Walworth, and Filberts, near Windsor—nay, one enterprising tradesman in the Strand has christened a milk shop "Nell Gwyn's Dairy," and has gone to some expense, in pictorial tiles, to impress on passers-by the genuineness of his assertion. Still, local tradition is strong, and, in a book called "The Recreations BAGNIGGE HOUSE. (Said to have been Nell Gwyn's.) BAGNIGGE HOUSE. (Said to have been Nell Gwyn's.) But the evidence is all of a quasi kind. In the long room, supposed to have been the banqueting room, was, over the mantel, a bust, an alto relievo, of a female, supposed to be Nell Gwyn, and said to be modelled by Sir Peter Lely, enclosed in a circular border of fruit, which, of course, was at once set down as a delicate allusion to the actress's former calling of orange wench in the theatres. The bust and border were painted to imitate nature, and on either side were coats of arms—one the Royal arms, and, on the other side, the Royal arms quartered with others, which were supposed to be those assumed by the actress. When the old house was pulled down, the bust disappeared, and no one knows whither it went. I give a quotation from the Sunday Times, July 5, 1840, not as adding authority, or weight, to the idea that Bagnigge House was Nell's residence, but to show how deeply rooted was the tradition. It is a portion of the "Maximms and Speciments of William Muggins, Natural Philosopher, and Citizen of the World"—
The old house, however, was evidently of some importance, for, over a low doorway which led into the garden, was a stone, on which was sculptured a head in relief, and the following inscription— X thus showing that the Pindar of Wakefield was the older house, and famous in that locality. This doorway and stone were in existence within the last forty years, for, in a footnote to page 572 of the Gentleman's Magazine of June, 1847, it says, "The gate and inscription still remain, and will be found, where we saw them a few weeks since, in the road called Coppice Row, on the left going from Clerkenwell towards the New Road." The following illustration gives Bagnigge Wells as it appeared at the end of last century. BAGNIGGE WELLS, NEAR BATTLE BRIDGE, ISLINGTON BAGNIGGE WELLS, NEAR BATTLE BRIDGE, ISLINGTON We have read how these gardens were first started in 1757, but they soon became well known and, indeed, notorious, as we read in a very scurrilous poem called "Bagnigge Wells," by W. Woty, in 1760— "Wells, and the place I sing, at early dawn Frequented oft, where male and female meet, And strive to drink a long adieu to pain. In that refreshing Vale with fragrance fill'd, Renown'd of old for Nymph of public fame And amorous Encounter, where the sons Of lawless lust conven'd—where each by turns His venal Doxy woo'd, and stil'd the place Black Mary's Hole—there stands a Dome superb, Hight Bagnigge; where from our Forefathers hid, Long have two Springs in dull stagnation slept; But, taught at length by subtle art to flow, They rise, forth from Oblivion's bed they rise, And manifest their Virtues to Mankind." The major portion of this poem (?) is rather too risque for modern publication, but the following extract shows the sort of people who went there with the view of benefiting their health— "Here ambulates th' Attorney looking grave, And Rake from Bacchanalian rout uprose, And mad festivity. Here, too, the Cit, With belly, turtle-stuff'd, and man of Gout, With leg of size enormous. Hobbling on, The Pump-room he salutes, and in the chair He squats himself unwieldy. Much he drinks, And much he laughs to see the females quaff The friendly beverage. He, nor jest obscene, Of meretricious wench, nor quibble quaint, Of prentic'd punster heeds, himself a wit And dealer in conundrums, but retorts The repartee jocosely. Soft! how pale Yon antiquated virgin looks! Alas! In vain she drinks, in vain she glides around The Garden's labyrinth. 'Tis not for thee, Mistaken nymph! these waters pour their streams," &c. And in the prologue to "Bon Ton: or High Life above Stairs," by David Garrick, acted at Drury Lane for the first time, for the benefit of Mr. King, in 1775, not much is said as to the character of its frequenters. "Ah! I loves life and all the joy it yields, Says Madam Fupock, warm from Spittlefields. Bon Ton's the space 'twixt Saturday and Monday, And riding in a one-horse chaise on Sunday, 'Tis drinking tea on summer's afternoons At Bagnigge Wells, with china and gilt spoons."
CHAPTER VIII.THE gardens were pretty, after the manner of the times; we should not, perhaps, particularly admire the formally cut lines and hedges, nor the fountain in which a Cupid is hugging a swan, nor the rustic statuary of the haymakers. Still it was a little walk out of London, where fresh air could be breathed, and a good view obtained of the northern hills of Hampstead and Highgate, with the interlying pastoral country, sparsely dotted with farmhouses and cottages. The Fleet, here, had not been polluted into a sewer as it was further on, and there were all the elements of spending a pleasant, happy day, in good air, amid rural scenes. A VIEW TAKEN FROM THE CENTER BRIDGE IN THE GARDENS OF BAGNIGGE WELLS A VIEW TAKEN FROM THE CENTER BRIDGE IN THE GARDENS OF BAGNIGGE WELLS WAITER FROM THE BREAD AND BUTTER MANUFACTORY; OR, THE HUMOURS OF BAGNIGGE WELLS. WAITER FROM THE BREAD AND BUTTER MANUFACTORY; OR, THE HUMOURS OF BAGNIGGE WELLS. THE BREAD AND BUTTER MANUFACTORY; OR, THE HUMOURS OF BAGNIGGE WELLS. THE BREAD AND BUTTER MANUFACTORY; OR, THE HUMOURS OF BAGNIGGE WELLS. The place, however, rapidly became a disreputable rendezvous, and we get an excellent glimpse of the costumes of circa 1780 in the two following engravings taken from mezzotints published by Carington Bowles; although not dated, they are of that period, A BAGNIGGE WELLS SCENE; OR, NO RESISTING TEMPTATION. A BAGNIGGE WELLS SCENE; OR, NO RESISTING TEMPTATION. Yet another glance at the manners of the time is afforded by the boy waiter, who hurries along with his tray of tea-things and kettle of hot water. THE BAGNIGGE ORGANIST. THE BAGNIGGE ORGANIST. And there was good music there, too—an organ in the long room, on which Charles Griffith performed, as may be seen in the accompanying illustration. The name of Davis on the music books, is that of the then proprietor, and the lines underneath are parodied from "What passion cannot music raise and quell! When Jubal struck the corded shell, His listening brethren stood around, And, wondering, on their faces fell." It went on with varying fortunes, and under various proprietors. First of all Mr. Hughes, then, in 1792, Davis had it; in 1813 it was in the hands of one Salter; in 1818, a man named Thorogood took it, but let it to one Monkhouse, who failed, and it reverted to Thorogood. Then came as tenant, a Mr. Chapman, who was bankrupt in 1833, and, in 1834, Richard Chapman was proprietor. I fancy he was the last, as public house, and gardens, combined. Mr. William Muggins, before quoted, laments its decadence thus: "Besides the whitewashed walls, and hoctagon shell grotto, there war the tea garden, with its honey suckle and sweet briar harbours, where they used to drink tea hout of werry small cups, and heat the far famed little hot loaves and butter; then there war the dancing plot, and the gold and silver fish ponds, and the bowling green, and skittle alley, and fire work ground hall so romantic and rural, standing in the middle of a lot of fields, and shaded around with trees. Now it's a werry different concarn, for it's surrounded with buildings—the gardens is cut hoff to nuffin, and the ouse looks tumble down and miserable." That was in 1840. It was about this time that a song appeared in "The Little Melodist," 1839—dilating on the delights of the "Will you go to Bagnigge Wells, Bonnet builder, O! Where the Fleet ditch fragrant smells, Bonnet builder, O! Where the fishes used to swim, So nice and sleek and trim, But the pond's now covered in, Bonnet builder, O! Punch, too, when it was young, and had warm blood coursing through its veins, visited Bagnigge Wells, and recorded the visit in its pages (Sept. 7, 1843). After a description of the walk thither, it says, "We last visited Bagnigge Wells about the beginning of the present week, and, like many travellers, at first passed close to it without seeing it. Upon returning, however, our eye was first arrested by an ancient door in the wall over which was inscribed the following:— "This inscription, of which the above is a fac simile was surmounted by a noseless head carved in stone; and, underneath, was a cartoon drawn in chalk upon the door, evidently of a later date, and bearing a resemblance to some of the same class in Gell's 'Pompeii.' Underneath was written in letters of an irregular alphabet, 'Chucky'—the entire drawing being, without doubt, some local pasquinade. "Not being able to obtain admittance at the door, we went on a short distance, and came to the ruins of the ancient 'Wells,' of which part of the banqueting room "It is very evident that the character of Bagnigge Wells has much altered within the last century. For, bearing that date, we have before us the 'Song of the 'Prentice to his Mistress' in which the attractions of the place are thus set forth:— "'Come, come, Miss Priscy, make it up, And we will lovers be: And we will go to Bagnigge Wells, And there we'll have some tea. And there you'll see the ladybirds All on the stinging nettles; And there you'll see the water-works, And shining copper kettles. And there you'll see the fishes, Miss, More curious than whales; They're made of gold and silver, Miss, And wag their little tails.' "Of the wonders recounted in these stanzas, the stinging nettles alone remain flourishing, which they do in great quantity. The Waterworks are now confined to two spouts and a butt against the adjacent building; and the gold and silver fishes separately, in the form of red herrings and sprats, have been removed to the stalls in the neighbourhood, with a great deal more of the wag in the dealer, than in themselves. "The real Bagnigge Wells, where company assemble to drink, at the present day, is next door to the ruins. The waters are never drank, however, now, without being strongly medicated, by a process carried on at the various brewers and distillers of the Metropolis: without this, they are supposed, by some classes, to be highly injurious. Their analysis have produced various results. Soda has been detected in one species, analogous to the "Flannel jackets, and brown paper caps appeared to be the costume of the valetudinarians who were drinking at the Wells, during our stay. We patronized the tepid spa by ordering 'Sixpennyworth warm,' as the potion was termed in the dialect of Bagnigge, for the purpose of drawing the proprietor into conversation. But he was, evidently, reluctant to impart much information, and told us nothing beyond what we already knew—a custom very prevalent at all the springs we have visited. "Lodgings, provisions, clothing, &c., are to be had at low rates in the neighbourhood, and there are several delightful spots in the vicinity of Bagnigge Wells. "The Excursion to Battle Bridge will be found highly interesting, returning by the Brill; and, to the admirers of nature, the panorama from the summit of King's Cross, embracing the Small Pox Hospital, and Imperial Gas Works, with the very low countries surrounding them, is peculiarly worthy of especial notice." Two years previous to this notice, there was a paragraph in the Times (April 6, 1841) which shows how the Wells had fallen into decadence. "The Old Grotto, which had all the windows out, and was greatly dilapidated, and the upper part of the Garden Wall, was knocked down by some persons going along Bagnigge Road, early this morning." The old place had fulfilled its mission. It had ministered to the recreation and amusement, harmless, or otherwise, of generations of Londoners, and it came to final grief, and disappeared in 1844. Its name is still preserved in "The Bagnigge Wells" Tavern, 39, King's Cross Road, and that is all the reminiscence we have of this once famous place of recreative resort.
CHAPTER IX.A LITTLE farther on, it washed the walls of Cold Bath Fields Prison, the House of Correction, and we get a view of it in Hone's "Table Book," "In 1825, this was the first open view, nearest London, of the ancient River Fleet: it was taken during the building of the high arched walls connected with the House of Correction, Cold Bath Fields, close to which prison the river ran, as here seen. At that time, the newly erected walls communicated a peculiarly picturesque effect to the stream flowing within their confines." This "House of Correction" was indebted for its birth to the famous John Howard, who had made an European tour, not to mention a home one, inquisitorially inspecting prisons. We all know the result of his labours; how he exposed abuses fearlessly, and made men's hearts soften somewhat towards those incarcerated. THE ANCIENT RIVER FLEET, AT CLERKENWELL, 1825. THE ANCIENT RIVER FLEET, AT CLERKENWELL, 1825. Howard, writing in 1789, held that capital punishment should be abolished except for murder, setting houses on fire, and for house breaking, attended with acts of cruelty. And speaking of his Penitentiaries, he says: "To these houses, however, I would have none but old, hardened offenders, and those who have, as the laws now stand, forfeited their lives by robbery, house breaking, and similar Crimes, should be committed; or, in short, those Criminals who are to be confined for a long term or for life.... "The Penitentiary houses, I would have built, in a great measure, by the convicts. I will suppose that a power is obtained from Parliament to employ such of them as are now at work on the Thames, or some of those who are in the county gaols, under sentence of transportation, as may be thought most expedient. In the first place, let the surrounding wall, intended for full security against escapes, be completed, and proper lodges for the gate keepers. Let temporary buildings, of the nature of barracks, be erected in some part of this enclosure which would be wanted the least, till the whole is finished." This was a portion of his scheme, and he suggested that it should be located, where it was afterwards built, in Cold Bath Fields—because the situation was healthy, that good water could be obtained from the White Conduit, as the Charter House no longer required that source of supply, it being well served by the New River Company—that labour was cheap—and so was food, especially the coarse meat from the shambles at Islington. The prisoners were to have separate cells, so as to prevent the promiscuous herding of all, which had previously produced such mischievous results, and these cells were to be light and airy. The convicts of both sexes were to work, and their food was to be apportioned to the work they had to do. Also—a very great step in the right direction—they were all to wear a prison uniform. Howard, philanthropist as he was, was very far from lenient to the rogue. He was fully aware of the value of work, and specially provided that his rogues, This cognomen was so well known, that, in 1799, a book was written by "A Middlesex Magistrate" entitled "The Secrets of the English Bastile disclosed"—which was a favourable story of the management of the prison in Cold Bath Fields. Still, it was the subject of a Parliamentary inquiry, as we find in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1798-9, under date of Dec. 31, 1798, p. 398, that, in the House of Commons, Sir Francis Burdett gave notice of his intention of moving, at some future day, for a report relative to the system practised in the prison, called the House of Correction, Cold Bath Fields, with regard to the persons therein confined. In the "Parliamentary History of England," vol. xxxiv. p. 566, we learn that on Mar. 6, 1799, Mr. W. Dundas moved that a Select Committee be appointed to But in the Annual Register for the same year on Dec. 21st there was a long report respecting it during a debate on the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act. Mr. Courtenay said, that, "having visited the prisons, he found the prisoners without fire, and without candles, denied every kind of society, exposed to the cold and the rain, allowed to breathe the air out of their cells only for an hour, denied every comfort, every innocent amusement, excluded from all intercourse with each other, and, each night locked up from all the rest of the world. He supposed it was scarcely necessary to inform the House, that the prison of which he had been speaking, was that in Cold Bath Fields, known by the name of the Bastille." There was a lot more nonsense of the same type talked by other M.P.'s and, it is needless to say, that the exaggerated statements were anent a political prisoner—who afterwards suffered death for treason. And in the remainder of the debate even the very foundation for the libel was destroyed. It is a curious fact, that people have an idea that political prisoners, who have done as much harm to the commonweal as they have the possibility of doing, are to be treated daintily, and with every consideration for their extremely sensitive feelings. We, perhaps, in these latter days, may read a profitable lesson in the suppression of treason, In the Gentleman's Magazine for 1796, is the following letter to—
Still Cold Bath Fields Prison had an evil name—in all probability, because prisoners there, were treated as if they had sinned against the social canons, and were not persons to be coaxed and petted into behaviour such as would enable them to rank among their more honest fellows, and in this way wrote Coleridge and Southey in "The Devil's Walk," which was suggested by the "He walked into London leisurely, The streets were dirty and dim: But there he saw Brothers, the Prophet, And Brothers the Prophet saw him." Well, in the Devil's rambles he came across Cold Bath Fields Prison—which, as I have said, was not beloved of the criminal class, and, simply, as I think, for the sake of saying something smart, and not that they ever had experienced incarceration, or is there any evidence that they had even seen the prison, they write: "As he passed through Cold Bath Fields he look'd At a solitary Cell; And he was well-pleased, for it gave him a hint For improving the prisons of Hell. He saw a turnkey tie a thief's hands With a cordial try and a jerk; Nimbly, quoth he, a man's fingers move When his heart is in his work. He saw the same turnkey unfettering a man With little expedition; And he chuckled to think of his dear slave trade, And the long debates, and delays that were made Concerning its abolition." There is very little doubt, however, that, in the closing year of last, and the commencing one of this, There is nothing noteworthy to chronicle of this prison from that date, There ought to be some record of its dying days, for the demolition of a prison in a large community of people, like ours in London, must mean one of two things, either a diminution of crime, or, that the prison is not suitable to the requirements of the age. The Ninth Report of the Commissioners of Prisons, for the Year ended March 31, 1886, speaking of Pentonville Prison, says: "In November, 1885, the majority of the prisoners confined in Coldbath Fields Prison were transferred to this Prison; and since that date, the remainder have also been removed here, that prison being now vacated, and in charge of a warder acting as caretaker. "The tread-wheel "The behaviour of the officers has been good, with the exception of four, discharged by order of the Prison Commissioners. "The conduct of the prisoners has been generally good. "The materials and provisions supplied by the Contractors have been good, and have given satisfaction. "To meet the requirements of the local prison service, a room is being completed for the convenience of the members of the Visiting Committee who attend here, also a room for the daily collection of prisoners to see the medical officer, and other purposes, as well as various minor alterations found necessary since the transfer. "A bakehouse has been completed, and is in working order, supplying bread to all metropolitan prisons. "The routine and discipline have been carried out in the same general manner as heretofore. "The industrial labour continues to be attended with satisfactory results; the greater portion is still devoted to supplying the wants of other prisons or Government establishments instead of the market. "Uniform clothing for officers is cut out here for all local prisons, and made up for a considerable number of the smaller prisons, also prisoners' clothing and bedding, hospital slippers for the Admiralty, as well as a large number of Cases and other articles for the General Post Office have been supplied. "The duties of the Chaplain's department have been performed uninterruptedly during the year, morning prayers have been said daily, and Divine Service has been performed on Sundays, Good Friday, and Christmas day, in the morning and afternoon, with a sermon at both services. The Holy Communion has been "School books and slates and pencils are issued to prisoners in their cells. "The medical officer states that the health of the prisoners at Coldbath Fields, and since the transfer to this prison, has been good. One case of smallpox occurred at Coldbath Fields; as the prisoner had been some months in gaol, it was clear that he had caught the disease, either from a warder, or from some prisoner recently received; he had been a cleaner in the rotunda, and, of course, had been coming into contact with warders and prisoners alike, in the busiest part of the prison, the presumption is that the disease had been carried by the uniform of some warder. There were five cases of erysipelas at Coldbath Fields, and one at this prison, at the former place the cases came from all parts of the prison, new and old. The air shafts were thoroughly swept and limewashed, and disinfected as far as could be reached, and there is no doubt that it checked the disease. "The dietary has been satisfactory during the year, and the new pattern clothing a great improvement. "Every precaution is taken in classing prisoners for labour suited to their age, physique and health. "The sanitary arrangements are most carefully supervised; the ventilation in the cells is very good." I offer no apology for intruding this report of Prison life, which, if one took the trouble to look up the yearly reports, he would find they are all couched in almost identical language.
CHAPTER X.COLDBATH FIELDS were, a hundred and twenty years ago, fairly rural, for (although it certainly is recorded as an abnormal occurrence) we find, in the Daily Courant, November 12, 1765, "Friday afternoon, about two o'clock, a hare crossed the New Road, near Dobney's Bowling green, ran to the New River Head, and from thence to Coldbath Fields, where, in some turning among the different avenues, she was lost. She appeared to have been hard run, by her dirty and shabby coat." These fields took their name from a spring (part of the River of Wells) which had its source there. A Mr. Walter Baynes of the Temple, who was, for his day, far-seeing, and made the most of the "town lots" which were in the market, bought this plot of land, and at once utilized it to his profit. It was of some note, as we read in a book published in Queen Anne's reign, "A New View of London," 1708, vol. ii. p. 785. "Cold Bath. The most noted and We learn two things from this—the pristine existence of "tub," and the fact that it was purely matutinal. Nay, from the same book we learn more, for, under the heading of "Southwark Cold Bath," we find that the "utmost time to be in, three minutes." At this latter places were "ex votos," so frequently seen at shrines on the Continent. "Here are eleven Crutches, which they say, were those of persons cured by this Water." Bathing was a luxury then—water was bought by the pailful, and a warm bath at the Hummums cost 5s., equal to between 10s. and 15s. of our money. Walter Baynes, Esq., of the Middle Temple, seems to have been a pushing man of business, and willing to make the most of his property. He traded on the uncleanliness SOUTH VIEW OF THE COLD BATHS. SOUTH VIEW OF THE COLD BATHS. However, we find Mr. Baynes advertising in the _Post Boy_, March 28, 1700, the curative effects of his wonderful spring. "This is to give notice that the Cold Baths in Sir John Oldcastle's Of course, viewed by the light of modern medical science, Mr. Baynes was a charlatan, and a quack, but he acted, doubtless, according to his lights, in those days; and, if a few were killed, it is probable that many more were benefited by being washed. Sir Richard Steele, writing in 1715, says thus: "On the Cold Bath at Oldcastle's." "Hail, sacred Spring! Thou ever-living Stream, Ears to the Deaf, Supporters to the Lame, Where fair Hygienia ev'ry morn attends, And with kind Waves, her gentle Succour lends. While in the Cristal Fountain we behold The trembling Limbs, Enervate, Pale and Cold; A Rosy Hue she on the face bestows, And Nature in the chilling fluid glows, The Eyes shoot Fire, first kindled in the Brain, As beds of Lime smoke after showers of Rain; The fiery Particles concentred there, Break ope' their Prison Doors and range in Air; Hail then thou pow'rful Goddess that presides O'er these cold Baths as Neptune o'er his Tides, Receive what Tribute a pure Muse can pay For Health that makes the Senses Brisk and Gay, The fairest Offspring of the heavenly Ray." At one time there was a famous house of refreshment and recreation, either called the Cobham's Head, or the Sir John Oldcastle—or there were one of each. Authorities differ, and, although I have spent some time and trouble in trying to reconcile so-called facts, I have come to the conclusion that, for my reader's sake, le jeu ne vaut pas la chandelle. There is a tradition that Sir John Oldcastle who was a famous Lollard in the time of Henry V., either had an estate here, or hid in a house of entertainment there, during his persecution for faith. But the whole is hazy. We know that there was a Sir John Oldcastle, who was born in the fourteenth century, and who was the fourth husband of Joan, Lady Cobham, in whose right he took the title of Lord Cobham. We know also, that he enjoyed the friendship of Henry V., and was of his household. But he got imbued with the doctrines of Wyclif, was cited to appear, more than once, before the ecclesiastical authorities, declined the invitations, and was duly excommunicated. He wrangled with the priests, got committed to the Tower, escaped and hid in Wales, was accused of heading a trumpery insurrection, and was, finally, captured, tried, and hanged in "Hit is unkindly for a Knight That shuld a kynges castel kepe, To bable the Bible day and night, In restyng time when he shuld slepe, And carefoly away to crepe; For alle the chefe of chivalrie, Wel ought hym to wail and wepe, That swyche The English were always famous bowmen, and archery—although gunpowder has long superseded bows and arrows in warfare—still is a favourite and fashionable pastime, witness the Toxopholite Society in Regent's Park, and the various Archery associations throughout the kingdom; so that it is not remarkable that an open space like Coldbath Fields should vie with the Artillery ground at Finsbury, in favour with the citizens, as a place for this sport; and we find, in Queen Anne's reign, that the Sir John Oldcastle was frequented by Archers. And for this information we may thank that old sinner, John Bagford (who spoilt so many books for the sake of their title-pages) for preserving. It tells its own story:—
There were very pleasant gardens attached to this tavern, and, like all the suburban places of recreation, they were well patronized, and they gave a very decent amusement in the shape of music—instrumental and vocal—and, occasionally, fireworks. But there seems to have been the same difficulty then, as now, as to keeping outdoor amusements, if not select, at least decorous, for, acccording to the Daily Advertisement of June 3, 1745, "Sir John Oldcastle's Gardens, Cold Bath Fields. This evening's entertainment will continue the Summer Season. The Band consists of the best masters. Sixpence for admission, for which they have a ticket, which ticket will be taken as sixpence in their reckoning. Particular care will be taken that the provisions shall be the very best in their separate kinds; likewise to keep a just decorum in the gardens. Note.—Several ladies and gentlemen that come to the gardens give the drawers their tickets, which is no benefit to the proprietor; therefore it's humbly desired that if any gentlemen or ladies don't chuse to have the value of their tickets in liquor, or eating, they will be so kind as to leave them at the bar." THE SMALLPOX HOSPITAL IN COLD BATH FIELDS. THE SMALLPOX HOSPITAL IN COLD BATH FIELDS. As a place of amusement, it seems, even in 1745, to have been on the wane. In 1758 the Smallpox Hospital was built close to it, and in 1761 the Sir John Oldcastle was bought by the trustees of the hospital, in order to enlarge it, and was pulled down in 1762. Noorthouck ("New History of London," ed. 1763, p. 752), speaking of Cold Bath Square, in which was the famed cold bath, says, "The North side of this square is, as yet, open to the fields, but a little to the east stands the Small Pox Hospital for receiving patients who catch the disease in the natural way; and is a very plain, neat structure. The Center, which projects a little from the rest of the building, is terminated on the top by an angular pediment, on the apex of which is placed a vase upon a small pedestal. This excellent charity was instituted in the year 1746, and is supported by a subscription In 1791 this hospital wanted extensive repairs, which would need an outlay of about £800; and the trustees, not willing to incur this expense, built another on the site of the Inoculating Hospital at Islington; and thither, when it was finished, all the patients were removed from Cold Bath Fields. But their new home was wanted for the Great Northern Railway, and another place was built, and still is, on Highgate Hill. The old building in Cold Bath Fields was first of all used as a distillery, and afterwards subdivided. Quoting again from Noorthouck: "Eastward from the Small Pox Hospital, on the south side of the Spawfield, is an humble imitation of the Pantheon in Oxford Road; calculated for the amusement of a suitable class of company; here apprentices, journeymen, and clerks dressed to ridiculous extremes, entertain their ladies on Sundays; and to the utmost of their power, if not There is no doubt but that some of these tea-gardens needed reform; so much so, that the grand jury of Middlesex, in May, 1744, made a presentment of several places which, in their opinion, were not conducive to the public morality; and these were two gaming-houses near Covent Garden, kept by the ladies Mordington and Castle; Sadler's Wells near the New River head, the New Wells in Goodman's Fields, the New Wells near the London Spaw in Clerkenwell; and a place called Hallam's Theatre in Mayfair. A possibly fair account of these gardens is found in the St. James's Chronicle, May 14-16, 1772:
This Pantheon was a large circular building surmounted by a statue of Fame. It was well warmed by a stove in its centre, and the grounds were prettily laid out. There were the usual walks, flower-beds, and pond, in the centre of which was a statue of Hercules, and, of course, the usual out-of-door refreshment boxes, or arbours. But it is just possible that it was owing to its somewhat disreputable conduct that the landlord became bankrupt in 1774, and the Pantheon was offered for sale. It was closed as a place of amusement in 1776, and the famous Countess of Huntingdon had some The illustration VIEW OF NORTHAMPTON OR SPA FIELDS CHAPEL, WITH THE COUNTESS OF HUNTINGDON'S HOUSE ADJOINING. VIEW OF NORTHAMPTON OR SPA FIELDS CHAPEL, WITH THE COUNTESS OF HUNTINGDON'S HOUSE ADJOINING.
CHAPTER XI.IT is almost impossible to write about anything connected with Spa Fields, without mentioning the famous "Spa Fields Riots," which occurred on Dec. 2, 1816. In every great city there will always be a leaven of disquietude: demagogues who have nothing to lose, but all to gain, will always find an audience for their outpourings; and, often, the ignorant, and unthinking, have only to be told, by any knave, that they are underpaid, downtrodden, or what not, and they are ready to yell, with their sweet breaths, that they are. So was it then in 1816. And it is also remarkable how history repeats itself; for, part of the scheme proposed by the agitators on that day, was exactly similar to the proposals of certain Irishmen and Socialists of our time—teste the following handbill, taken from the Times, the newspaper of Dec. 7, 1816.
There! does not that read exactly like a modern speech delivered in Trafalgar Square, Hyde Park, or Dublin? Of course it was the old story of Demagogy. The pot boiled, the scum came to the top, and it boiled over, so that, one fine day, there was a riot. It was a period of distress for the working classes, who did not then, as now, swarm into London from all parts of England, and expect Jupiter to help them; but then, as now, the rich were ever willing to help their poorer brethren, for, in the very same Times newspaper that gives an account of this Spa Fields Riot, there is a list of subscriptions towards the relief of distress in Spitalfields alone, amounting to over £18,000. The story is one that should be told, because it has its lesson and its parallel in all time. The ruling spirit of the movement was Henry Hunt, generally called Orator Hunt, a man fairly well to do, and who did not agitate for the sake of his daily bread. The occasion of the meeting in Spa Fields, at which some 10,000 people were present, was to receive the answer of the Prince Regent to a petition from the distressed mechanics of London and its vicinity for relief. It was held first of all in front of the "Merlin's Cave" (a name which still survives at 131, Rosomon Street, Clerkenwell), and afterwards in the adjacent fields. The following account of the riots is from the Times of Dec. 3, 1816:
The Times then gives in detail a report of the meeting, commencing from the arrival of "Orator" Hunt, who read the correspondence between himself and Lord Sidmouth, and said: "The statement of Lord Sidmouth to him was, that neither any King of the House of Brunswick, nor the Prince Regent, since he had attained sovereign power, ever gave any answer to petitions except they came from the Corporation of the City of London, or from the two Universities which had the privilege of being heard, and answered from the throne. 'If I were to carry your present petition to the levÉe (added his lordship) I should deliver it into his Royal Highness's hand, make my bow, and walk on; and if you, yourself, Mr. Hunt, were to appear, you would do just the same thing; you would deliver your petition, make your bow, and pass on.' This, Gentlemen, is a little more about Court matters than I was aware of before. (Loud laughter and applause.) The meeting had the consolation to think, that, if their petition was not answered by the Prince Regent, it had met with no worse fate than other petitions presented to the House of Hanover since the accession of this family to the throne. (Applause.) "He expected to have seen this day a deputation from the Soup Committee, for the purpose of returning thanks to this meeting for obtaining the £5,000 which the Prince Regent had granted. (Great applause.) He was convinced that it was owing to the exertions and patriotism of the last assembly in those fields that his Royal Highness was induced to give this pittance: but his Royal Highness had not gone the full length of the This was the sort of fustian that was talked then, as now, and probably always will be, to an ignorant mob; and, as a natural sequence, words begot actions. Blind—foolishly blind—the idiotic mob marched towards the City, not knowing why, or what advantage they were to gain by so doing. Naturally, there were thieves about, and they plundered the shop of Mr. Beckwith, a gunmaker, in Skinner Street, Snow Hill, shooting a gentleman, named Platt, who happened to be in the shop, at the time. At the Royal Exchange, the Lord Mayor, Sir James Shaw, with his own hands, seized a man, who was bearing a flag, and the mob, unable to force the gates, fired inside; but as far as I can learn, without effect. Foiled in the attempt to sack, or destroy the Exchange, by the arrival of some civil force to the assistance of his Lordship, they moved on, seemingly aimlessly, towards the Tower: why—unless it was to supply themselves with arms—no one can guess. Of course, if they had tried to take it, they could not have accomplished As usual, nothing was gained by violence. Socialism certainly did not advance—nor was any more employment found for anybody—and the thing fizzled out. But it was not the fault of the agitators. Let us read a short extract from a leading article in the Times of December 4, 1816:—
I have dwelt thus at length on these Spa Fields riots because the Socialistic and Communistic development therein contained, runs fairly parallel with our own times; and it is comforting to know, that in this case, as in all others in England, the movement was purely evanescent; the love of law and order being too deeply seated in the breasts of Englishmen. Nay, in this case, the butchers from the shambles in Whitechapel attacked the mob, and compelled them to give up their arms, "which the butchers express a wish to retain, as trophies and proofs of their loyalty and courage." Hunt fizzled out, and returned to his previous nonentity. CHAPTER XII.STILL continuing the downward course of the Fleet, an historical place is reached, "Hockley-in-the-Hole," or Hollow, so famous for its rough sports of bear baiting and sword and cudgel playing. The combative nature of an Englishman is curious, but it is inbred in him; sometimes it takes the form of "writing to the papers," sometimes of going to law, sometimes of "punching" somebody's head; in many it ends in a stubborn fight against difficulties to be overcome—but, anyhow, I cannot deny that an Englishman is pugnacious by nature. Hear what Misson, an intelligent French traveller, who visited England in the reign of William III., says: "Anything that looks like fighting is delicious to an Englishman. If two little Boys quarrel in the Street, the Passengers stop, make a Ring round them in a Moment, and set them against one another, that they may come to Fisticuffs. When 'tis come to a Fight, each pulls off his Neckcloth and his Waistcoat, and This was about 1700; and, if it was so in the green tree (or boy), what would it be in the dry (or man)? I am afraid our ancestors were not over-refined. They did not all cram for examinations, and there were no Girton girls in those days, neither had they analytical novels: so that, to a certain extent, we must make allowances for them. Tea and coffee were hardly in use for breakfast, and men and women had a certain amount of faith in beer and beef, which may have had something to do in forming their tastes. Anyhow, the men were manly, and the women not a whit worse than they are now; and woe be to the man that insulted one. A code of honour was then in existence, and every gentleman carried with him the means of enforcing it. Therefore, up to a certain limit, they were combative, and not being cigarette-smoking mashers, and not being overburdened with novels and periodicals, and club smoking and billiard rooms being unknown, For Londoners, a favourite place, early in the eighteenth century, for rough sports, was Hockley-in-the-Hole. Here was bear and bull baiting for the public, a fact that was so well known, according to Gay, "Experienc'd Men, inur'd to City Ways, Need not the Calendar to count their Days. When through the Town, with slow and solemn Air, Led by the Nostril walks the muzzled Bear; Behind him moves, majestically dull, The Pride of Hockley Hole, the surly Bull; Learn hence the Periods of the Week to name, Mondays and Thursdays are the Days of Game." Even earlier than Gay, Hockley-in-the-Hole is mentioned by Butler in his "Hudibras" "But Trulla straight brought on the Charge, And in the selfsame Limbo put The Knight and Squire, where he was shut, Where leaving them in Hockley-i'-th'-Hole, Their Bangs and Durance to condole." But Butler also talks of Bear baiting, both in the first and second cantos of "Hudibras," especially in canto the first, where, beginning at line 675, he says: "But now a Sport more formidable Had rak'd together Village Rabble: 'Twas an old Way of recreating— Which learned Butchers call Bear-Baiting: A bold advent'rous Exercise, With ancient Heroes in high Prize; For Authors do affirm it came From Isthmian or Nemean Game; Others derive it from the Bear That's fix'd in Northern Hemisphere, And round about the Pole does make A Circle like a Bear at Stake. That at the Chain's End wheels about, And overturns the Rabble Rout. For, after solemn Proclamation In the Bear's Name (as is the Fashion According to the Law of Arms, To keep men from inglorious Harms) That none presume to come so near As forty Foot of Stake of Bear; If any yet be so foolhardy T' expose themselves to vain Jeopardy; If they come wounded off, and lame, No honour's got by such a Maim; Altho' the Bear gain much; b'ing bound In Honour to make good his Ground, When he's engag'd and takes no Notice, If any press upon him, who 'tis, But let's them know, at their own Cost, That he intends to keep his Post." Bear baiting was so identified, as a sport, to the Bear Gardens are proverbially rough, and this place was no exception; but there were two others in London where bears were baited, one at Marrybone Fields (at the back of Soho Square), and at Tuttle or Tothill Fields, at Westminster—thus showing the popularity of the Sports, which was not declared illegal until 1835. Of course in these our days, we know nothing of bear baiting, and if a Pyrenean bear were now taken about the country, as I have frequently seen them, even if he "danced to the genteelest of tunes," his proprietor would be in danger of the judgment—some dear mollycoddling old woman in trousers, belonging to some special "faddy" society, being always ready to prosecute. Bears not, at present, being indigenous to Britain, were naturally scarce, so the homely and offensive Bull had to afford rough sport to the multitude, and several towns now bear testimony to the popularity of the sport of bull baiting in their "Bull rings" (Birmingham, to wit). In the fourteenth century we know that even horses were baited with dogs, and as long as fox hunting, coursing, or wild stag hunting, are recognized as sports among us, I fail to see the superior cruelty of our ancestors. It may be that people imagine that the larger the animal, the greater the cruelty; but I cannot see it. Anyhow, far earlier than the Bear garden of Hockley-in-the-Hole, both bear and bull baiting were And, again are we indebted to a foreigner for a description of a bull baiting, thus realizing Burns' aspiration seeing "oursen as others see us," vide Misson. "Here follows the Manner of those Bull Baitings which are so much talk'd of: They tie a Rope to the Root of the Ox or Bull, and fasten the other End of the Cord to an Iron Ring fix'd to a Stake driven into the Ground; so that this Cord being 15 Foot long, the Bull is confin'd to a Sphere of about 30 Foot Diameter. Several Butchers, or other Gentlemen, that are desirous to exercise their Dogs, stand round about, each holding his own by the Ears; and, when the Sport begins, they let loose one of the Dogs; The Dog runs at the Bull: the Bull immovable, looks down upon the Dog with an Eye of Scorn, and only turns a Horn to him to hinder him from coming near: the Dog is not daunted at this, he runs round him, and tries to get beneath his Belly, in order to seize him by the Muzzle, or the Dew lap, or the pendant Glands: The Bull then puts himself into a Posture of Defence; he beats the Ground with his Feet, which he joins together as close as possible, and his chief Aim is not to gore the Dog with the Point of his Horn, but to slide one of them under the Dog's Belly (who creeps close to the Ground to hinder it) and to throw him so high in the Air that he may break his Neck in the Fall. This often happens: When the Dog thinks he is sure of fixing his Teeth, a turn of the Horn, which seems to be done with all the Negligence in the World, gives him a Sprawl thirty Foot high, and puts him in danger of a damnable Squelch when he comes down. This danger would be unavoidable, if the Dog's Friends were not ready beneath But the dogs did not always get the best of it—many a one was gored and killed by the bull. Cruelty, however, would scarcely rest content with simple bull baiting. It was improved upon, as we see in the following I cannot, however, consider this as an ordinary programme, and it was evidently so considered at the time; for a book was advertised in the Tatler, January 3-5, 1709 (1710):— "This Day is published The Bull Baiting or Sach——ll Of all the places where these cruel pastimes were practised, certainly Hockley-in-the-Hole, bore off the palm for blackguardism; and it is thus mentioned in an essay of Steele's in the Tatler (No. xxviii.), "I have myself seen Prince Eugene make Catinat fly from the backside of Grays Inn Lane to Hockley-in-the-Hole, and not give over the pursuit, until obliged to leave the Bear Garden, on the right, to avoid being borne down by fencers, wild bulls, and monsters, too terrible for the encounter of any heroes, but such as their lives are livelihood." To this mention of Hockley-in-the-Hole, there is, in an edition of 1789, a footnote (p. 274), "There was a sort of amphitheatre here, dedicated originally to bull-baiting, bear-baiting, prize fighting, and all other sorts of rough-game; and it was not only attended by butchers, drovers, and great crowds of all sorts of mobs, but likewise by Dukes, Lords, Knights, Squires, &c. There were seats particularly set apart for the quality, ornamented with old tapestry hangings, into which none were admitted under half a crown at least. Its neighbourhood was famous for sheltering thieves, pickpockets, and infamous women; and for breeding bulldogs." Bull baiting died hard, and in one famous debate in the House of Commons, on 24th of May, 1802, much eloquence was wasted on the subject, both pro. and con., Hockley-in-the-Hole was not only the temple of S. S. Taurus et Canis; but the genus Homo, type gladiator, was there in his glory. It was there that sword play was best shown, but we do not hear much of it before William the Third, or Anne's reign, or that of George I., when the redoubtable Figg was the Champion swordsman of England. As Hockley-in-the-Hole belongs to the Fleet River, so do these gladiatorial exhibitions belong to Hockley-in-the-Hole. I have treated of them once, "In those days, when every one with any pretensions to gentility wore a sword, and duelling was rife, it is no wonder that exhibitions of skill in that weapon were favourites. Like modern prize fights, they drew together "'At the Bear Garden in Hockley-in-the-Hole. "'A Tryal of Skill to be Performed between two Profound Masters of the Noble Science of Defence on Wednesday next, being this 13th of the instant July, 1709, at Two of the Clock precisely. "'I, George Gray, born in the City of Norwich, who has Fought in most Parts of the West Indies, viz., Jamaica, Barbadoes, and several other Parts of the World; in all Twenty-five times, upon a Stage, and was never yet Worsted, and now lately come to London; do invite James Harris, to meet and Exercise at these following Weapons, viz.:
"'I, James Harris, Master of the said Noble Science of Defence, who formerly rid in the Horse Guards, and hath Fought a Hundred and Ten Prizes, and never left a Stage to any Man; will not fail, (God Willing) to meet this brave and bold Inviter, at the Time and Place appointed, desiring Sharp swords, and from him no Favour. "'right-pointing hand Note. No persons to be upon the Stage but the Seconds. Vivat Regina.'" This is not the only available advertisement, but it is a typical one, and will serve for all. "The challenger would wager some twenty or thirty pounds, and the stakes would be deposited and delivered to the Challenged: the challenger receiving the money "There is one remarkable exception, I have found, to this monetary arrangement, but it is the only one in my experience. For, in an advertisement of the usual character, there comes: 'Note.—That John Stokes fights James Harris, and Thomas Hesgate fights John Terriwest, three Bouts each at Back Sword, for Love.' "Preliminaries arranged, handbills printed and distributed, the Combat duly advertised in at least one newspaper, and the day arrived; like the bull and bear, the combatants paraded the streets, preceded by a drum, having their sleeves tucked up, and their Swords in hand. All authorities agree that the fights were, to a certain extent, serious. Steele gives a good account of a prize fight: In No. 449, of the Spectator, is the following letter re Hockley-in-the-Hole:—
It was not sword play alone that was the favourite pastime at Hockley-in-the-Hole, there was cudgel playing—and fighting with "the Ancient Weapon called the Threshing Flail." There is an advertisement extant of a fight with this weapon between John Terrewest and John Parkes of Coventry, whose tombstone affirms that he fought three hundred and fifty battles in different parts of Europe. Fisticuffs also came prominently into vogue early in the eighteenth century, and it is needless to say that Hockley was a favourite place with its professors. The site of the Bear Garden is said to be occupied by the "Coach and Horses," 29, Ray Street, Farringdon Road.
CHAPTER XIII.IN connection with the Fleet, I have omitted to mention one locality, in this immediate neighbourhood, which certainly deserves notice from its associations, namely Laystall Street and Mount Pleasant; for here it was, that a fort to command Gray's Inn Road, was built, when the lines for the protection of the City were formed by order of Parliament in 1643—at the time when it was feared that Prince Rupert was coming to attack it. For nearly, if not quite, a hundred years those lines of defence were partially visible; and, certainly, among others, one was at Mount Pleasant. It is a somewhat curious thing that the names survive. A Laystall meant a dung or dust heap, and, after this artificial mound was utilized for the community its name was euphemised into Mount Pleasant, which it bears to this day. This work of intrenchment was almost impressment, for we can hardly consider that it was voluntary, when At all events, the fort at Mount Pleasant was raised, although never used, and it belongs to the history of the Fleet River—as, close by, a little affluent joined it. Gardens sloped down to its banks, notably those of the great Priory of St. John's Clerkenwell, and, like Bermondsey, with its "Cherry Gardens"—the names of "Vineyard Walk" and "Pear Tree Court" bear testimony to the fruitfulness of this part of London. There is also "Vine Street" in Saffron Hill, which latter name is extremely suggestive of the growth of a plant which, in old times, was much used both in medicine and cooking. It was called "The Liberty of Saffron Hill, Hatton Garden, and Ely Place"—which was in the Manor of Portpool. Saffron Hill, nowadays, is the home of the Italian organ-grinder, who, although not unknown to the police, is undoubtedly a better citizen than previous dwellers therein. Specially was West Street, or Chick Lane, as it was formerly called, a neighbourhood to be avoided by all honest men. It ran both east and west of the Fleet, which it crossed by a bridge. Stow calls it This was the state of West Street, as exemplified by a cutting from the Morning Herald of Feb. 11, 1834:
There was an old house in West Street, pulled down in April, 1840, which tradition affirmed to have been the residence of the infamous Jonathan Wild, and, when destroyed, its age was considered to be about three hundred years. At one time it was the Red Lion Inn; And there was Field Lane too, which was the house of the "Fence," or receiver of stolen goods. It was from this interesting locality that Charles Dickens drew that wonderful study of Fagin—who was a real character. Cruikshank has made him as immortal, but Kenny Meadows tried to delineate him in a clever series which appeared in Bell's Life in London, under the title of "Gallery of Comicalities." FAGIN, THE JEW. FAGIN, THE JEW. "Welcome, Old Star, of Saffron hill. Of villainy a sample bright, Awake to Prigs, and plunder still, Thou merry, ancient Israelite! Thy face is rough, with matted shag, Foul is thy form, old shrivell'd wretch. How cunningly you eye the swag, Harden'd purveyor to Jack Ketch! Incrusted with continued crime, Your hopeful pupils still employ— Thou wert indeed a Tutor prime To Oliver, the Workhouse Boy. Poor Lad! condemn'd to fate's hard stripes, To herd with Fagin's plundering pack; And learn the art of filching wipes, From Charley Bates, and Dawkins Jack. To hear 'The Dodger' patter slang, With knowing wink, and accent glib, Or learn from 'Sikes's' ruffian gang, In slap up style to crack a crib. Hail, Fagin! Patriarch of the whole! Kind Patron of these knowing ones— In thee we trace a kindred soul Of honest Ikey Solomon's! We leave you to your courses vile, For conscience you have none, old Codger! And in our next we'll trace in style, The mug of Jack, the artful dodger." FIELD LANE NEGOTIATIONS; OR, A SPECIMEN OF 'FINE DRAWING.' FIELD LANE NEGOTIATIONS; OR, A SPECIMEN OF "FINE DRAWING." The artistic merit of this poetry is nil, and my only excuse is the introduction of a forgotten sketch by a dead artist, who, in his day was popular and famous. Who, for instance, remembering Leech's pictures in Punch, would think that this illustration ever came "Field Lane Negotiations; or, a Specimen of 'Fine Drawing.' Thish ish vot I callsh 'caushe and effect;' caushe if vee thidn't buy, no bothy vood shell, and if vee thidn't shell, nobothy vood buy; and vot's more, if peoplesh thidn't have foglesh, vy, nobothy could prig em" (See Abrahams on the "Economy of Wipes"). Those were the days of large and valuable silk Bandana handkerchiefs, and the story used to be told that you might have your pocket picked of your handkerchief at one end of Field Lane, and buy it again at the other end, with the marking taken out. Long before Fagin's time, however, there was a school for young thieves in this neighbourhood, vide Gentleman's Magazine (1765), vol. xxxv. p. 145.
CHAPTER XIV.CLOSE by Saffron Hill, and Fleet Lane, is Hatton Garden, or Ely Place, formerly the seats of the Bishops of Ely; which Shakespeare has made so familiar to us in Richard III. act iii. sc. 4. "My Lord of Ely, when I was last in Holborn, I saw good strawberries in your garden there; I do beseech you, send for some of them." There is a legend—and I give it as such—that this Sir Christopher Hatton married a beautiful gipsy girl, who bewitched him; and the price she had to pay, according to her compact with the Evil One, was her soul, and body, after a given time. When that arrived, the Devil duly came for her, and seizing her, bore her aloft, and, whilst in the air, he rent her in pieces, and threw her still palpitating heart to earth. Where it fell was, for years, known as Bleeding Heart Yard; but now, the authorities, whoever they may be, have altered it to Bleeding Hart, which, in all probability was the cognizance of the family who resided there. This Ely Place had very extensive premises, consisting of numerous buildings, a Hall, Quadrangle, Cloisters, Chapel, a field, the historic garden, cum multis aliis; and they occupied a large space. Only the Chapel now remains, and that has had a curious career. At one time marriages were celebrated there, as at the Fleet, presumably that it was not under the jurisdiction of the Bishop of London, but this fiction was overruled in the case of Barton v. Wells in the Consistory Court, Nov. 17, 1789, when Sir Wm. Scott (afterwards Lord Stowell) decided that Ely Chapel was under the authority of the Bishop of London, and that Curates thereto must be licensed by him. The Bishops came to London in former times, as now, and their residences, in several cases were known as Places, or Palaces. Thus, there was Winchester Place, in Southwark, now the headquarters of the Fire The first mention of the connection of the Bishops of Ely, is in the will of John de Kirkeby (who was appointed Bishop in 1286), and whose will was proved in 1290, or 18 Edward I., and in the Close Roll of that year, is the following (in Latin, of course):
The next bishop—William de Luda (who must have been a person of some distinction, for he had previously held the Deanery of St. Martin's le Grand, and the Archdeaconry of Durham, besides being Chamberlain, Treasurer, and Keeper of the Wardrobe to the King) bequeathed more property to the See, and in all likelihood, built the Chapel of St. Etheldreda, which, however, was most probably considerably modified by a later Bishop, Thomas de Arundel, who held the See from 1374 to 1388—as the windows, mouldings, &c., now existing show, being about as good an example, as possible, of Decorated, or Second Pointed architecture. "Old Iohn of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster" lived at Ely Place for a time—in all likelihood after his palace in the Savoy, had been destroyed by rioters. This fact is noted by Shakespeare in "The life and death of King Richard the Second," act i. sc. 4: "Busby. Old Iohn of Gaunt is verie sick, my Lord, Hollinshed, also, under date 1399, says: "In the meane time, the Duke of Lancaster departed out of this life at the Bishop of Elie's place, in Holborne, and lieth buried in the Cathedrall Church of St. Paule, in London, on the north side of the high altar, by the Ladie Blanche, his first wife." The premises were of very great extent, as appears by plans taken before its almost total demolition in 1772. Under the Chapel was a cellar, or under croft—divided into two—and this seems to have caused some inconvenience in the seventeenth century, for Malcolm, in his "Londinium Redivivum" (vol. ii. p. 236) says: "One half of the crypt under the chapel, which had been used for interments, was then frequented as a drinking-place, where liquor was retailed; and the intoxication of the people assembled, often interrupted the offices of religion above them." And this statement seems to be borne out by a reference to Harl. MSS. 3789, et seq., where it says: "Even half of the vault or burying place under the Chapel is made use of as a public cellar (or was so very lately) to sell drink in, there having been frequently revellings heard there during Divine Service." More curious things than this happened to Ely Place, for the Journals of the House of Commons inform us how, on January 3, 1642-3, "The palace was this day ordered to be converted into a prison, and John Hunt, Sergeant-at-arms, appointed keeper during the pleasure of the House." He was, at the same time, commanded to take care that the gardens, trees, chapel, and its windows, received no injury. A sufficient sum for repairs was granted from the revenues of the see. Again, on March 1, 1660: "Ordered that it be referred to a Committee to consider how, and in what manner, the said widows, orphans, and maim'd soldiers, at Ely House, may be provided for, and paid, for the future, with the least prejudice, and most ease to the There were always squabbles about this property, and it nearly fell into ruin; but in 1772 an Act of Parliament was passed (Geo. III., an. 12, cap. 43) entitled "An Act for vesting Ely House, in Holbourn, in His Majesty, his Heirs and Successors, and for applying the Purchase Money, with another Sum therein mentioned, in the purchasing of a Freehold Piece of Ground in Dover Street, and in the building, and fitting up another House thereon, for the future Residence of the Bishops of Ely, and the Surplus to the Benefit of the See; and for other Purposes therein mentioned." And the town residence of the Bishop of Ely is now 37, Dover Street, Piccadilly. This little bargain was the sale to the Crown of Ely Place for £6,500, and a perpetual annuity of £200 to the Bishop of Ely and his successors. The site and materials were purchased by a Mr. Charles Cole, an architect and builder, and he built Ely Place, Holborn. The chapel was let, and, eventually, to the Welsh Episcopalians of London. But the property got into Chancery, and the estate was ordered to be sold; and it was sold on January 28, 1874, and the chapel alone fetched £5,250. As there was no stipulation as to its purchase by any particular religious body, it was bought by the Roman Catholics, and is now St. Etheldreda's Church, Convent, and schools. ELY HOUSE, 1784. ELY HOUSE, 1784. Apropos of Ely House, when Bishop Coxe demurred at surrendering the property of his see to Hatton, Queen Elizabeth wrote him that famous letter, beginning "Proud Prelate," and telling him that, if he did not do as he was told, she, who had made him what he was, could unmake him, and if he did not immediately comply, she would unfrock him—signing this very characteristic and peremptory epistle, "Yours, as you demean yourself, Elizabeth." On the other or east side of the Fleet was a tributary brook called Turnmill brook—a name now surviving in Turnmill Street—which, even in this century, drove flour and flatting mills, and we have indisputable evidence of its industrial powers, in an advertisement in the Daily Courant September 17, 1714, which calls attention to a house in Bowling (Green) Alley, The Fleet flowing to its bourne, After the great fire of 1666 the Fleet was widened, and canalized, from the Thames, to Holborn Bridge; thence, to its source, it took its natural course, and, although there were then three bridges over it, from Sir Christopher Wren built this bridge, which was meant to be the ornamental end of "The New Canal," as it is described in the map of Farringdon Ward in Stow's "Survey" (ed. 1720). It must have taken some time to complete, for it was not finished until the Mayoralty of Sir William Hooker, whose name appeared carved upon it (although somewhat mutilated) when it was uncovered in March, 1840. Sir William Tite, C.B., M.P., F.S.A., &c., Architect to the City of London, writing at that date, says: "The Sewer at Holborn Hill was opened, and as I was passing, I saw the southern face of the Bridge which crossed the Fleet Sir William Tite says it was a red brick bridge; Hatton, in his "New View of London" (1708), says it was of stone; but then, probably, he never really saw it, and Tite did. Hatton's description is: "Holbourn Bridge is built of Stone, it leads from Holbourn to Snow Hill, over the N. end of the Fleet Brook, where a little rivulet called Wells, falls by Hockley Hole, running a little E'd of Saffron Hill, crossing near the W. end of Chick Lane, and so into this Brook." The canalization of the Fleet after 1666 was a useful work, as it enabled barges to go up to Holborn Bridge; and that it was availed of, we can judge by the frontispiece, which was painted in the middle of the eighteenth century; but it was not much used, if we can trust Ned Ward, whose sharp eyes looked everywhere, and whose pen recorded his scrutiny END OF HOLBORN BRIDGE, TAKEN FROM THE SOUTH, AND PART OF HOLBORN HILL. JUNE 2, 1840. END OF HOLBORN BRIDGE, TAKEN FROM THE SOUTH, AND PART OF HOLBORN HILL. JUNE 2, 1840. Gay, too, in his "Trivia," more than once mentions the foulness of the Fleet in book ii. "Or who that rugged street That stretches, O Fleet-Ditch, from thy black shore To the Tour's moated walls?" And again: "If where Fleet-Ditch with muddy current flows." Here is a pen-and-ink sketch of Holborn Bridge—from some old engraving or painting (Crosby does not give his authority), which gives an excellent idea of old London—squalid and filthy according to our ideas. How different from that noble viaduct which now spans the course of the Fleet River! which her Majesty opened on November 6, 1869. HOLBORN BRIDGE. HOLBORN BRIDGE.
CHAPTER XV.THEN, close by (still keeping up its title of the River of the Wells) was Lamb's Conduit, on Snow Hill, which was fed from a little rill which had its source near where the Foundling Hospital now stands, its course being perpetuated by the name of Lamb's Conduit Street, where, according to the "Old English Herbal," watercresses used to flourish. "It groweth of its own accord in gardens and fields by the way side, in divers places, and particularly in the next pasture to the Conduit Head, behind Gray's Inn, that brings water to Mr. Lamb's Conduit in Holborn." William Lamb was a citizen of London, and of the Guild of Cloth-workers, besides which, he was some time Gentleman of the Chapel to Henry VIII. He benefited his fellow-citizens by restoring a conduit in 1577, which had been in existence since the fifteenth century; and, after the Great Fire, the busy Sir Christopher Wren was It is curious to learn how the suburbs of London have grown within the memory of living men. Take, for instance, the following, from Notes and Queries (April, 1857, p. 265), referring to Lamb's Conduit. A correspondent writes that "About sixty years since, I was travelling from the West of England in one of the old stage coaches of that day, and my fellow-travellers were an octogenarian clergyman and his daughter. In speaking of the then increasing size of London, the old gentleman said that when he was a boy, and recovering from an attack of smallpox, he was sent into the country to a row of houses standing on the west side of the present Lamb's Conduit Street; that all the space before him was open fields; that a streamlet of water ran under his window; and he saw a man snipe-shooting, who sprung a snipe near to the house, and shot it." It was no small gift of William Lamb to the City, for it cost him £1,500, which was equivalent to thrice that sum at present, and, to make it complete, he gave to one hundred and twenty poor women, pails wherewith to serve and carry water, whereby they earned an honest, although a somewhat laborious, living. Lamb left many charitable bequests, and also founded a chapel, by Monkwell Street, now pulled down. This Conduit existed until about 1755, when it was demolished, and an obelisk with lamps erected in its place, but, that being found a nuisance, was, in its turn, soon done away with. LAMB'S CONDUIT, SNOW HILL. LAMB'S CONDUIT, SNOW HILL. Lamb was buried in the Church of St. Faith's, under St. Paul's, and on a pillar was a brass to his memory, which is so quaint, that I make no apology for introducing it. "William Lambe so sometime was my name, Whiles alive dyd runne my mortall race, Serving a Prince of most immortall fame, Henry the Eight, who of his Princely grace In his Chapell allowed me a place. By whose favour, from Gentleman to Esquire I was preferr'd, with worship, for my hire. With wives three I joyned wedlock band, Which (all alive) true lovers were to me, Joane, Alice, and Joane; for so they came to hand, What needeth prayse regarding their degree? In wively truth none stedfast more could be. Who, though on earth, death's force did once dissever, Heaven, yet, I trust, shall joyn us all together. O Lambe of God, which sinne didst take away; And as a Lambe, was offred up for sinne, Where I (poor Lambe) went from thy flock astray, Yet thou, good Lord, vouchsafe thy Lambe to winne Home to thy folde, and holde thy Lambe therein; That at the day, when Lambes and Goates shall sever, Of thy choice Lambes, Lambe may be one for ever. I pray you all, that receive Bread and Pence, To say the Lord's Prayer before ye go hence." It is said, also, that the old verses, so well known, were appended to the brass, or, rather, engraved on his tombstone. "As I was, so are ye, As I am, you shall be, That I had, that I gave, That I gave, that I have. Thus I end all my cost, That I felt, that I lost." But there is one well must not be lost sight of; for, in its small way, it was tributary to the Fleet—and that is Clerk's Well, or Clerkenwell, which gives its name to a large district of London. It was of old repute, for we see, in Ralph Aggas' Map of London, published about 1560, a conduit spouting from a wall, into a stone tank or trough. This is, perhaps, the earliest pictorial delineation of it; but FitzStephen mentions it under "fons Clericorum" so called, it is said, from the Parish Clerks of London, who chose this place for a representation of Miracle Plays, or scenes from Scripture realistically rendered, as now survives in the Ober Ammergau Passion Play. This little Company, which still exists as one of the City Guilds, has never attained to the dignity of having a livery, but they have a Hall of their own (in Silver Street, Wood Street, E.C.), and in their time have done good service in composing the "Bills of Mortality;" and gruesome pamphlets they were—all skulls, skeletons, and cross-bones—especially during the great Plague. These plays were, as I have said, extremely realistic. One, played at Chester A.D. 1327, Map of Ray Street Hence the name—but the well, alas, is no more—but when I say that, I mean that it is no longer available to the public. That it does exist, is well known to the occupier of the house where it formerly was in use, for the basement has frequently to be pumped dry. The neighbourhood has been so altered of late years, that its absolute site was somewhat difficult to fix; yet any one can identify it for themselves from the accompanying slight sketch of the locality as it existed over sixty years since. Ray Street (at least this portion of it) is now termed Farringdon Road, and what with Model Early in the last century, in Queen Anne's time, the Spring had ceased to be a conduit, as shown in Ralph Aggas' Map, but had been turned into a pump; and this pump even was moved, in 1800, to a more convenient spot in Ray Street, where it was in existence (which I rather doubt), according to Pink's History of Clerkenwell in 1865. However, there is very good evidence of its being, in an engraving dated May 1, 1822, of the "Clerk's Well"—which shows the pump, and a stone tablet with the following inscription:
For the better accommodation of the Neighbourhood, this Pump was removed to the Spot where it now Stands. The Spring by which it is supplied is situated four Feet eastward, and round it, as History informs us, the Parish Clerks of London in remote Ages annually performed sacred Plays. That Custom caused it to be denominated Clerks' Well, and from which this Parish derives its Name. The Water was greatly esteemed by the Prior and Brethren of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, and the Benedictine Nuns in the Neighbourhood." In later days, the Fleet, as every other stream on whose banks houses are built, became a sewer, and "behaved as sich;" so that it was deemed prudent to The Canal, up to Holborn Bridge, was expensive to keep up, and as we saw, by the quotation from Ned Ward, it was next door to worthless. Meantime, sewage and silt played their work, as the stream was neglected, and, becoming a public nuisance, it was arched over, pursuant to an Act 6 Geo. II. cap. 22, entitled "An Act for filling up such Part of the Channell of Bridewell Dock, and Fleet Bridge, as lies between Holborn Bridge and Fleet Bridge, and for converting the Ground, when filled up, to the use of the City of London." The works were begun in 1734 and was arched over and finished in 1735; but, as buildings are necessary for a market, it was not opened, as such, until Sept. 30, 1737. For nearly a century it remained a market for meat, fish, and vegetables, although, of course, the largest meat market was Newgate, as being near Smithfield; and for fish, Billingsgate, which still maintains its pre-eminence But in 1829 it was pulled down, in order to make a wider street from Holborn to Blackfriars Bridge; and this part of the Fleet was called, and now is, Farringdon Street. FLEET MARKET, FROM HOLBORN BRIDGE. FLEET MARKET, FROM HOLBORN BRIDGE. The Vegetable Market, for it had come to that only, was swept away, and a site found for it, nearly opposite the Fleet prison. It is still so used, but it is not much of a financial help to the City, as it only brings in an annual income (according to the last return I have been able to obtain) of between £700 and £800. It was thought that trade might be encouraged, and revived, if it were worthier housed, so what is now, the Central Fish Market, was erected; but, before the vendors of vegetables could enter into possession, a great cry had arisen as to the supply of fish to London, and the monopoly of Billingsgate, and the market was given over to the fishmongers. But it is not a success in a monetary point of view; is a great loss to the City, and, as a fish market, a very doubtful boon to the public. The Fleet Prison, which was on the east side of Farringdon Street, will be noticed in its place; and, as we have seen, the river was arched over from Holborn to Fleet Bridge, after which it still flowed, an open sewer, into the Thames. But, before going farther, we must needs glance at a curious little bit of Fleet history, which is to be found in "The Secret History of the Rye House Plot, and Monmouth's Rebellion," written by Ford. Lord Grey who was a party to the plot, addressed it to James the Second, 1685, but it was not printed until 1754. In p. 28 it states, "The first alarm was designed to be between eleven and twelve at night, by attacking the train bands at the Royal Exchange, and then possessing ourselves of Newgate, Ludgate, and Aldersgate. The first two gates we did not design to defend, unless we were beaten from Fleet Bridge and Snow Hill, where we intended to receive the first attack of the King's Guards. At Snow Hill, we intended to make a Barricade, and plant three or four pieces of Cannon, upon Ship's Carriages; at Fleet Bridge we designed to use our Cannon upon the carriages, and to make a breast-work for our musqueteers bridge next us, and to fill the houses on that side the ditch with men who should fire from the windows, but the bridge to be clear." As a matter of fact, there seem to have been two bridges over the Fleet, crossing it at Fleet Street and Ludgate Hill, both side by side, as at Holborn. Crosby, upon whose collection I have so largely drawn, says that it is so, from personal observation, To this measurement hangs a tale, which is best told in Crosby's own words, from a memo of his in the Guildhall Library:—
CHAPTER XVI.HATTON, writing in 1708, says: "Fleet Bridge is even with the Str(eet); it leads from Fleet Street over the Fleet Ditch to Ludgate Hill; is accommodated with strong Battlements which are adorned with six Peers and enriched with the Arms of London, and Supporters Pine-apples, &c., all of Stone; and bet(wee)n the Peers are Iron Rails and Bannisters, on the N. & S. sides of the Bridge." On either side of where the Bridge used to be, are two obelisks, one on the North, or Farringdon Street side, to Alderman Waithman, and on the South, or Bridge Street side, to John Wilkes the notorious. The first bears the following inscription:— Erected This Alderman Waithman was almost one of the typical class so often held up as an example for all poor boys to follow, i.e., he began life with simply his own energy, and opportunity to help him. And, as a virtuous example of industry, when the times were not so pushing as now; and half, and quarter, or less commissions on transactions were unknown, we may just spend a minute in reading about him. Wrexham was his birthplace in 1764, and his father dying soon after, he was adopted by his uncle and sent to school. No one was then left very many years in statu pupillari, and, consequently, he had to join his uncle in business, as a linendraper at Bath. The uncle died in 1788, and he took a place at Reading, whence he came to London, and lived as a linendraper's assistant until he came of age. He then married, and opened a shop at the South end of the Fleet Market, nearly precisely on the spot where his monument now stands. He prospered in business, and moved to other, and larger premises, became Common Councilman, tried to get into Parliament for the City, and ultimately succeeded in 1818. Next election he lost it, but in all subsequent ones he was the favoured candidate. He was Alderman of Farringdon Without, Sheriff, and filled the office of Mayor in 1823-4. The obelisk to his memory remains, but he has dropped out of general memory, and this revival of his life, for imitation, in industry and rectitude of conduct, must be my excuse for taking up my readers' time. Far different is it with John Wilkes, about whom A.D. This inscription became effaced through the weather, and was, within the last few years, replaced with a new stone; but it was grumbled at for not having the original word "Esquire" after John Wilkes, which was surely a work of supererogation. Close by was Ludgate, with its debtors' prison of Lud-gate, which was rather aristocratic, being "purely for Insolvent Citizens of London, Beneficed Clergy, and Attorneys at Law," and which was even peculiar in the time when it existed; for Maitland, in his "History of London" (ed. 1775, pp. 28, 29) says:—
This custom is alluded to in the Spectator, No. lxxxii.: "Passing under Ludgate the other Day I heard a Voice bawling for Charity, which I thought I had somewhere heard before. Coming near to the Grate, the Prisoner called me by my Name, and desired I would throw something into the Box. I was out of Countenance for him, and did as he bid me, by putting in half a Crown." Of this Grate there is a pretty and romantic story told by Stow. "When the Prison was in this Condition, there "Her Riches and his Industry brought him both great Wealth and Honour, being afterwards no less than Sir Stephen Foster, Lord Mayor of the Honourable City of London: Yet whilst he lived in this great Honour and Dignity, he forgat not the Place of his Captivity, but, mindful of the sad and irksome Place wherein poor Men were imprisoned, bethought himself of enlarging it, to make it a little more delightful and pleasant for those who in after Times should be imprisoned and shut up therein. And, in order thereunto, acquainted his Lady with this his pious Purpose and Intention; in whom likewise he found so affable and willing a Mind to do Good to the Poor, that she promised to expend as much as he should do for the carrying on of the Work." And they did spend their money on it right royally, building, amongst many other conveniences, a Chapel for the inmates, A.D. 1454, which they endowed, so as to maintain a "preacher" or chaplain. Sir Stephen Nor did his charitable goodness end here, for he gave a supply of water gratis to the prisoners, as was recorded on a brass in the Chapel, very pithily— "Devout Souls that pass this way For Stephen Foster, late Maior, heartily pray, And Dame Agnes, his Spouse, to God consecrate, That of Pity this House made for Londoners in Ludgate. So that for Lodging and Water, Prisoners have nought to pay, As their Keepers shall all answer at dreadful Doomsday." Dame Agnes survived her husband, but was ultimately buried by his side in the Church of St. Botolph, Billingsgate. For a Prison, Ludgate compared more than favourably with every other in London. As we have seen, the prisoners were select; they were helped, in the matter of food, by the king of the City, the Lord Mayor: their fees were infinitesimal as compared with other debtors' prisons. Strype (ed. 1720, book ii. p. 179) says:—
CHAPTER XVII.THE Course of the Fleet is nearly run, but, before closing this account of the river, we should not forget the residence of the mighty King-maker, the Earl of Warwick, whose pleasant gardens ran down to the Fleet; and there, in Warwick Lane, after the great Fire, was built the College of Physicians, described thus by Dr. Garth, in his "Dispensary":— "Not far from that most celebrated Place, Where angry Justice shews her awful Face; Where little Villains must submit to Fate, That great ones may enjoy the World in State, There stands a Dome, majestick to the sight, And sumptuous Arches bear its oval height; A golden Globe plac'd high with artful skill, Seems, to the distant sight, a gilded Pill." Here they were housed until 1825, and, from the Fleet, could be seen the Apothecaries' Hall, in Water Lane, Blackfriars, "Nigh where Fleet Ditch descends in sable Streams To wash his sooty Naiads in the Thames; There stands a Structure on a Rising Hill, Where Tyro's take their Freedom out to Kill." Then there was the Monastery of the Dominicans, or Blackfriars, which has given its name to a whole district; and there was a fortification, or postern, on the little river, near Ludgate Hill; and, close to its junction with the Thames, was Bridewell Bridge, so called from the Royal Palace of that name, which, in its turn, received its cognomen from another well, which went to form the "River of Wells," St. Bridget's or Bride's Well. This bridge is shown in the frontispiece, and was necessarily made very high in order to allow sailing craft to go under it. It was here that Pope, in his "Dunciad" (book ii.), thus sings: "This labour past, by Bridewell all descend, (As morning pray'r, and flagellation end) To where Fleet-ditch with disemboguing streams Rolls the large tribute of dead dogs to Thames, The King of Dykes! than whom, no sluice of mud, With deeper sable blots the silver flood. 'Here strip, my children! here at once leap in, Here prove who best can dash thro' thick and thin.'" Ward bursts into song over Bridewell, thus:— "'Twas once the Palace of a Prince, If we may Books Confide in; But given was, by him long since, For Vagrants to Reside in." BRIDEWELL BRIDGE. BRIDEWELL BRIDGE. The Royal Palace of Bridewell stood on the site of the Castle of Montfichet, who is believed to have come over with William the Conqueror. Tradition assigns it a still earlier date, even Roman, but then, I don't say there was not a Roman fortress here, but I cannot say there was. Certainly Cardinal Wolsey lived here, and Henry VIII. held occasional Court. Strype, in his edition of Stow (1720) says that after the destruction of Montfichet Castle and its Stone being given away:—
Bridewell is well shown by Hogarth in the fourth picture of the "Harlot's progress," where both men and women are seen "beetling" hemp. In a very rare tract called "Mr. William Fullers Trip to Bridewell" (1703) he gives a fairly graphic description of a prisoner's entry therein. "As soon as I came there, the Word was Strip, pull off your Cloaths, and with much intreaty, I prevail'd to keep on my Westcoat; then I was set to a Block, a punny of Hemp was laid thereon, and Ralph Cumpton (a Journy Man in the Shop) presented me with a Beatle, bidding me knock the Hemp with that, as fast as I could. This Beatle is of Brazel, Previously to this, poor Fuller had to stand twice in the pillory, on one of which occasions he was nearly killed by the mob, and when taken to Bridewell, all black and blue as he was, he had a whipping:— "My Hands were put in the Stocks, and then Mr. Hemings the Whipper, began to noint me with his Instrument, that had, I believe, about a dozen Strings notted at the end, and with that I had Thirty Nine Stripes (so that according to a certain Almanack Maker, who reckoned Dr. Oates's Stripes by every String, I had twelve times Thirty Nine). I had given the Rascal Half a Crown, but he afforded me very little favour, but struck home at every stroak; I confess I could not forbear bawling out, but good Sir Robert The prisoners, if they chose, could find their own food, but they were kept strictly at work as is quaintly put by Fuller— "I had, in each Shop, the Thieves for my Fellow-labourers, and the Journeymen, our Deputy Task Masters, were frequently calling to the Prisoners, Why don't you Work there, strike hard: Then threaten, and sometimes beat them with a small Cane. These Task-masters are so accustomed to keeping their Prisoners hard at Work, that I have heard themselves say, they have, frequently, (forgetting themselves) called out, when they had no Prisoner in the Shop, as before, Why don't you work there." Ward (in the "London Spy") gives an almost too graphic account of this prison, but expresses unmitigated disgust at the whipping of women, which took place there, and solemnly protested against its continuance. His description of a woman being flogged, is as follows:—
John Howard, in his "State of the Prisons in England and Wales" (ed. 1777) gives the following description of Bridewell:—
It continued as a House of Correction for the City of London until its abolition, with other Civic prisons by an Act of 40 and 41 Vict. cap. 21, entitled "An Act to amend the Law relating to Prisons in England." But there was an exception made in its favour, and it still remains a House of Correction in a mild way—thanks The good old days of Apprenticing boys to some craft for seven years, during which he was to serve his master faithfully, and in return, was to be housed, fed, and taught his business, have all but passed away, but not quite. There are still some refractory apprentices, as there ever have been. We know the common saying of "Boys will be boys," which is applied in mitigation of juvenile indiscretion, but there is also another apothegm, "Little boys, when they are naughty, must be smacked, and sent to bed." Bridewell has always been a place where idle or refractory City apprentices have had the opportunity of pondering over the errors of their ways, and in passing this Act, a special exemption was made, and there still exist six cells, which, I am sorry to say, are frequently occupied by erring youths. It is all done in the kindest, and most fatherly way. The City Chamberlain from the time of the Indentures of the lad being signed, to giving him his Freedom, acts as his guardian, to a great extent. Has the lad any complaint to make against his master it is to the Chamberlain he must appeal, and vice versÂ. The Cause is heard in camerÂ, and every effort is made to reconcile the parties, but, as will sometimes happen with a boy who is obstinate, sullen, or vicious, all attempts to bring him to a better sense fail, then the Chamberlain, by virtue of his office commits the boy to Bridewell, where he eats the bread, and drinks the water, of affliction for a while, a treatment, which combined with the confinement, hard work, and enforced sequestration from Bridewell seems to have been long associated with apprentices, not all of them "Thomas Idles," I am happy to say; and Hatton in "The New View of London" (1708) writes, showing the tender care that the City of London have always had for their poor:
This arrangement has, of course, had to "march with the times," and in 1860 the Master of the Rolls approved of, and sanctioned, a scheme of the Charity Commissioners, whereby nearly all the funds appertaining to Bridewell are utilized by two industrial schools Before leaving the topic of Bridewell, as a prison, I must not fail to mention a notorious, but naughty, old woman who lived in the time of Charles II., commonly known as "Old Mother Cresswell." It is no slander on her memory, to say that her sense of morality was exceedingly lax, and she died in Bridewell. She evidently had saved some money, and with that curious spirit which possesses some people, and produces adulatory epitaphs, she would fain be better thought of after her death, than she was estimated when alive, for, in her will, she left a legacy for a sermon at her funeral, the preacher's remuneration to be £10, on one condition, that he should say nothing but what was well of her. A clergyman having been found, he preached a sermon generally adapted to the occasion, and wound up by saying: "By the will of the deceased, it is expected that I should mention her, and say nothing but what was well of her. All that I shall say of her, however, is this: she was born well, she lived well, and she died well; for she was born with the name of Cresswell, she lived in Clerkenwell, and she died in Bridewell." There was a fine old Court-room, which is thus described in the "Microcosm of London" (1808): "The Court-room is an interesting piece of antiquity, "On the upper part of the walls are the names, in gold letters, of benefactors to the hospital: the dates commence with 1565, and end with 1713. This is said to have been the Court in which the sentence of divorce was pronounced against Catherine of Arragon, which had been concluded on in the opposite monastery of the Black Friars. "From this room is the entrance into the hall, which is a very noble one: at the upper end is a picture by Holbein, "On one side of this picture is a portrait of Charles II. sitting, and, on the other, that of James II. standing; they are both painted by Sir Peter Lely. Round the room are several portraits of the Presidents and different benefactors, ending with that of Sir Richard Carr Glyn. The walls of this room are covered with the names of those who have been friends to the institution, written in letters of gold." This Hall was pulled down in 1862.
CHAPTER XVIII.BORDERING upon Bridewell, and almost part and parcel of it, was Whitefriars, which, westward, ran to the Temple, and eastward to the Fleet. It is so-called from a Carmelite monastery, established here in the reign of Edward I. Within its precincts was the right of sanctuary, and, like the Jewish Cities of Refuge, offenders against the law might flee thither, and be protected from arrest. Naturally, the very scum of London floated thither, to the Mint in Southwark, and the precincts of the Savoy in the Strand, in none of which the King's warrant ran, unless backed by a force sufficient to overawe the lawless denizens of these localities. Whitefriars we may take as its original name, but there was given it a nick-name, "Alsatia," from Alsace, or Elsass, on the frontier between France and Germany, which was always a battle-field between the two nations; and so, from the incessant fighting that went on in this unruly neighbourhood, it acquired its cognomen. Sir Walter Scott, in "The Fortunes of Nigel," gives a vivid description of the utter lawlessness and debauchery of this quarter of the town, but his was second-hand. Perhaps one of the most graphic pictures of this sink of iniquity is given in Shadwell's "Squire of Alsatia," acted in 1688, and which was so popular, that it had a run of thirteen nights. Here we get at the manners and customs of the natives, without any glossing over; and, just to give an example of the real state of the district at that time, I make two or three extracts, showing how the denizens were banded together in mutual defence.
So that we see how an ordinary sheriff's officer and
And almost at the close of the play one of the characters, Sir Edward Belfond, moralizes thus:
This right of sanctuary was taken from Whitefriars by William III., the nest of rogues, vagabonds, and thieves broken up, the occupants dispersed, and law reigned supreme in that once defiant place. We have now traced the Fleet River to its junction with the Thames. Poor little river! its life began pure enough, but men so befouled it, that their evil deeds rose against themselves, and the river retaliated in such Bell's Weekly Messenger, August 2, 1835: "Some workmen have been for a few days past engaged in making a new sewer, communicating with the foulest of all streams, the Fleet Ditch. In consequence of the rain the men had left off work; and, soon afterwards, a young man named Macarthy, a bricklayer, proceeded to the sewer for the purpose of bringing away a ladder, when, owing to the slippery state of the works, he fell down the Sewer, but in his descent, caught hold of the ladder he was in search of, to which he hung for nearly a quarter of an hour, calling loudly all the time for assistance, though from some extraordinary cause or other, no person was able to afford him any. At length some of the labourers arrived—but too late; he had just before fallen into the Sewer, and was carried into the Fleet Ditch; and owing to its having been swollen And the Times of October 3, 1839, records another fatal accident during some repairs. Naturally, this River was celebrated in verse. There was a very foolish and dull poem by Arthur Murphy in 1761 called "Ode to the Naiads of Fleet Ditch;" and, previously, it had been sung by Ben Jonson, "On the famous Voyage," which will be found among his epigrams. This voyage was from Bridewell to Holborn, and describes very graphically the then state of the river. Too graphic, indeed, is it for the reading of the modern public, so I transcribe but a very small portion of it, showing its then state. "But hold my torch, while I describe the entry To this dire passage. Say, thou stop thy nose; 'Tis but light pains: indeed, this dock's no rose. In the first jaws appear'd that ugly monster Y'cleped mud, which, when their oars did once stir, Belched forth an air as hot, as at the muster Of all your night tubs, when the carts do cluster, Who shall discharge first his merd-urinous load; Through her womb they make their famous road." 1768. THE ARREST. (Drawn from a late real scene.) 1768. THE ARREST. (Drawn from a late real scene.) "Sir Fopling Flutter through his Glass Inspects the ladies as they pass, Yet still the Coxcomb lacks the Wit To guard against the Bailiff's Writ." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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