THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES c THE THAMES AND ITS TRIBUTARIES. VOL. I. LONDON t PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY, Bangor House, Shoe Lane. THE THAMES AND ITS TRIBUTAEIES; RAMBLES AMONG THE RIVERS. BY CHARLES MACKAY, AUTHOR OF "THE HOPE OF THE WORLD," ETC. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET, tit rfltnarn to fecr 1840. PREFACE. THE banks of our river abound with scenes which are hallowed by the recollections of his- tory, romance, and poetry ; and to recal these recollections in the very spots where the events occurred, to jog his reader's memory, and to act the part of a gossiping, not a prosy, fellow traveller, has been the design of the author in the following pages. He hopes that in the prosecution of this design, if he be not found learned, he will not be considered dull. He may have dwelt upon familiar things ; but the man whose object is to remind, rather than to instruct to suggest what may have been for- gotten, rather than to tell what is new, could not well do otherwise. In a work of this kind, complete accuracy is unattainable ; but the author has endeavoured to be as near to it as the most diligent and un- tiring research could bring him. Those who VOL. i. b VI PREFACE. are acquainted with similar studies, and who know the immense number of volumes that are often to be consulted upon some trivial point, will make allowances for any occasional lapses which they may discover; and those who do not know, because they have never tried how difficult it is to be exact amid a great variety of subjects and of authorities, will accept this as an excuse if they should light upon any omission, taking the author's word for it, that he has striven hard to be accurate. In conclu- sion, he can only say with the accomplished author of the " Pleasures of Memory/' in the introduction to his " Italy," " That wherever he came, he could not but remember, nor is he conscious of having slept over any ground that had been ' dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue.' " The author takes this opportunity of making his acknowledgments to Mr. J. Gilbert, the artist, and Mr. T. Gilks, the engraver, for their elegant designs for the frontispieces of these volumes, and for the charming wood engrav- ings that are so liberally interspersed. AUGUST 19th, 1840. CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. CHAPTER I. Introduction to the subject. The blessings of Water. The Poetry of Rivers. Old London Bridge. The New Bridge. Reminiscences of Southwark. The Globe Theatre. The Bear Garden. Paris Garden. Old Houses of the Nobility. ..... Page 1 CHAPTER II. Doctors' Commons. The Fleet Ditch. The Temple Gardens. Ancient and Modern Templars. Somerset House and Waterloo Bridge. Romance of Modern Lon- don. The Savoy Palace. Henry the Eighth's Tourna- ment and Festival at Durham House. The Adelphi. Whitehall. 26 Vlll CONTENTS. CHAPTER III. Westminster Bridge. The Houses of Parliament. Anecdote of James the First. Westminster Abbey. Lambeth Palace. Flight of Queen Mary D'Este. Palaces and Hovels. Vauxhall Gardens. Sports at Battersea. Evans the Astrologer. Chelsea Hospital. Reminiscences of Chelsea. Battersea. A Song. The River Wandle. The Mayor of Garratt. Putney. Cardinal Wolsey and his Fool. ..... Page 52 CHAPTER IV. The Two Sisters. Poets of Barn Elms. Loutherbourg the Artist. Hogarth's Epitaph. English love of Trees and Flowers. Residence of Joe Miller. Vanity in Death. Reminiscences of Mortlake. Queen Elizabeth and the Alchymist. Pleasant Controversy between Swift and Part- ridge. Dirty Brentford. Anecdote of George II Kew Gardens. Sion House. Isleworth. 85 CHAPTER V. Approach to Richmond. The grave of the poet Thom- son. Wit among the Tombstones. Richmond Palace. The Battle of the Gnats. View from Richmond Hill. A Song by Mallet. Gay, the poet. Traditions of Ham House. Eel-pie Island. The Poetical Sawyer. Anec- dote of Edmund Kean. . . . 123 CONTENTS. XI CHAPTER VI. Twickenham. The Poet's Grave. Pope's Grotto. Relics of Genius. Strawberry Hill. Etymology and Chro- nology. The Heart of Paul Whitehead. Swans upon the Thames. The tragical story of Edwy and Elgiva. An odd petition of the inhabitants of Kingston. . Page 149 CHAPTER VII. The Thames at Hampton Court. The Rape of the Lock. Magnificence of Wolsey. The loves of Lord Surrey and the fair Geraldine. Royal Inhabitants of Hampton Court. The Picture Gallery A Cook's Philosophy. The Maze. 1 75 CHAPTER VIII. The River Mole. Esher and Claremont Cobham The Trout of Leatherhead. English Scenery. The Cellars of Dorking. An old custom. Guildford and the River Wey. The Mother's Dream. A story of a Jack Newark Abbey. The amorous Monks ; a tradition of the Wey. A punning Epitaph. Return to the Thames. . 204 CHAPTER IX. Moulsey Hurst. Garrick's Villa. Walton-upon-Thames. Lilly the Astrologer. A Puritan's Sermon. Oatlands. Cowey Stakes. Shepperton. . . . 230 CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. Poets of the Thames. Burial Place of Henry the Sixth at Chertsey Abbey. Retirement of Cowley. A walk on Cooper's Hill. Sir John Denham. Runny mead and Magna Charta Island. London Stone. Jurisdiction of the Lord Mayor upon the Thames. The River Colne. Reminis- cences of Milton. .... Page 255 CHAPTER XL Approach to Windsor. The Ducking of Sir John Falstaff. View from the Castle Terrace. William of Wykeham and his Kidnappers. Royal Captives in the Castle. The Loves of James of Scotland and the Lady Jane Beaufort. Imprisonment of the Earl of Surrey. . . 274 CHAPTER XII. Royal Tombs in St. George's Chapel. The Persians at Windsor. Windsor Forest. Herne's Oak. Eton College. The Montem. Monkey Island. The Vicar of Bray. The Town of Maidenhead. Claude Duval. Cliefden. 294 CHAPTER XIII. Hedsor. Cookham. The River Wick. Great Marlow. The Poet Shelley at the Groves of Bisham. The Rakes of Medmenham Abbey. Lady Place, Hurley. Lord Lovelace and the Revolution of 1688. Hambleton. Faw- CONTENTS. XI ley Court Ancient and Modern Antiques. Henley. Pan and Lodona. The River Loddon. Sunning Hill. Reading. ..... Page 325 CHAPTER XIV. The River Kennett. The ruins of Silchester. Newbury. Donnington Castle and the Poet Chaucer. Chaucer's Oak. Caversham. Purley Hall. Wallingford. The poetical Fiction of the Thame and Isis. . . 349 CHAPTER XV. Abingdon and its Bridge. Nuneham Courtney The Carfax. Oxford and its University. . . 369 ILLUSTRATIONS. Engraved Title-page . to precede the general Title. Old London Bridge . . . Pag e 13 Globe Theatre, Bankside ... 25 St. Paul's Cathedral .... 27 Temple Gardens .... 32 Waterloo Bridge . . . .86 Savoy Palace . . . . . 41 Whitehall . . . . . .51 The New Houses of Parliament . . 56 Westminster Abbey .... 60 Lambeth Palace .... 63 Chelsea Hospital . . . . .71 Hammersmith Bridge .... 96 Kew Palace . . . . .115 Isleworth Church . . . . 122 Richmond Church ..... 125 Richmond Hill .... 140 Twickenham Ait . . . . .148 Pope's Villa . . . . 155 Strawberry Hill ..... 162 Kingston ..... 174 Hampton Court . . . . .194 The Maze at Hampton Court . . . 203 Wolsey's Tower at Esher Place . . . 208 Claremont ..... 209 Chertsey ...... 254 Cowley's House at Chertsey . . . 260 Windsor Castle .... 278 Herne's Oak [now standing] . . . 390 Herne's Oak [the disputed tree] . . . 302 Eton College ..... 310 Maidenhead . . . . .319 Donnington Castle .... 359 View of Oxford . . . 377 THE THAMES AND ITS TRIBUTARIES, CHAPTER I. Introduction to the subject. The blessings of Water. The Poetry of Rivers. Old London Bridge. The New Bridge. Reminiscences of Southwark. The Globe Theatre. The Bear Garden. Paris Gaiden. Old Houses of the Nobility. AN speaks of the " Mother Earth," from whence he came, and whither he returns ; but, after all, the honour of his ^l-j? 5 ^ maternity belongs to WATER. Earth is but the nurse of another's progeny ; she merely nourishes the children of a more prolific element, by whom she herself is fed and clothed in return. Water is the universal mother, the beneficent, the all fructifying, beautiful to the eye, refreshing to the touch, pleasant to the palate, and musical to the ear. What should we be without her ? We have only to imagine the condition of the VOL. i. B 2 THE BLESSINGS OF WATER. moon, and the question is answered. Men with great telescopes, who have looked over her surface, and examined every hole and cranny in her, have decided that, for want of water, she is nothing but a dry and unin- habitable rock. There is neither salt water nor fresh in all her extent. She is the abode of no living thing, the Gehenna of desolation, the mere skeleton of a world, which the sun may light, but cannot warm. No wonder that she looks so pale and woe- begone as she sails along the sky, and that lovers and poets, ignorant of her peculiar mis- fortune, have so often asked her the reason of her sorrow. I' faith, they would be sorry too, if they had no more moisture in their compo- sition than she has. We may pity the idolatry, but cannot con- demn the feelings, which led mankind in the early ages to pay divine honours to the ocean and the streams. It was soon recognised that water was the grand reservoir of health, the source of plenty, the beautifier, the preserver, and the renovator of the world. Venus, rising from the sea-froth in immortal loveliness, typi- fies its uses and beneficence : water was the first parent of that goddess, who was after- wards to become the mother of love and the THE BLESSINGS OF WATER. 3 emblem of fruitfulness. Poseidon in the Greek, and Neptune in the Roman mythology, ranked among the benevolent gods; and the ocean- queen Amphitrite was adorned with a love- liness only second to that of Venus. In other parts of the world, Ocean, from its immensity, was more an object of terror ; but rivers have everywhere been the objects of love and adora- tion. A sect of the ancient Persians reverenced them so highly, that they deemed it sacrilege to pollute them. For countless ages the dwel- lers by the Ganges have looked upon it as a god, and have deemed it the summit of human felicity to be permitted to expire upon its banks. The Egyptian still esteems the Nile above all earthly blessings; and the Abyssinian worships it as a divinity. Superstition has peopled these and a thousand other streams with a variety of beings, or personified them in human shapes, the better to pay them homage. Rivers all over the world are rich in remem- brances. To them are attached all the poetry and romance of a nation. Popular superstition clings around them, and every mile of their course is celebrated for some incident, is the scene of a desperate adventure, a mournful legend, or an old song. What a swarm of B2 4 CELEBRATED RIVERS. pleasant thoughts rise upon the memory at the sole mention of the Rhine ! what a host of recollections are recalled by the name of the Danube, the Rhone, the Garonne, the Meuse, the Seine, the Loire, the Tagus, the Guadal- quiver ! even the low-banked and unpic- turesque Elbe and Scheldt are dear as house- hold things to the neighbouring people. Their praises are sung in a hundred different idioms ; and the fair maidens who have dwelt upon their banks, and become celebrated for their beauty, their cruelty, or their woe, have had their names mingled with that of the river in the indissoluble bands of national song. To the man who has a catholic faith in po- etry, every river in Scotland may be said to be holy water. Liddell, and Tweed, and Dee, Tiviot, and Tay, and Forth, and doleful Yarrow, sanctified by a hundred songs. Poetry and romance have thrown a charm around them, and tourists from every land are familiar with their history. Great writers have thought it a labour of love to collect into one focus all the scattered memoranda and fleeting scraps of ballads relating to them, until those insignifi- cant streams have become richer than any of our isle in recollections which shall never fade. " And what has been done for these, shall A PILGRIMAGE UP THE THAMES. 5 none be found to do for thee, O Thames ? " said we to ourselves, as we thought of these things, one fine summer morning. " Art thou of so little consequence among the rivers, that no one will undertake to explore thee from Cotteswold to the sea, and in a patient but enthusiastic spirit gather together all thy me- morabilia?" There being no person present, we looked round our study with an air of satis- faction, and exclaimed, " We will do it. We have been cabined and cribbed amid smoke too long : we pine for a ramble among the hills, and a gulp of the sweet air. We will go, in search of wisdom and of health, along the banks of the Thames, and drink its pure water from its fountain-head among the hills of Gloucestershire." It is in this pilgrimage, O gentle reader, that we ask thee to accompany us. We will be as entertaining a cicerone as we can. We will not bore thee, if we can help it, by telling thee too many things that thou knowest al- ready ; and if we do now and then touch upon them, we may take a different view of them from any thou hast yet been accustomed to, and throw a new light upon an old picture. If thou art a lover of poetry, a delighter in old songs, thou art a reader after our own 6 A PILGRIMAGE UP THE THAMES. heart, and thou shalt be as pleased with us as we are with thee. If thou art an antiquary, we also have some sneaking affection for thy hobby, and will now and then throw thee a tit-bit for it. If thou art an angler, and fishest with a rod, we will show thee all the best places in the river from Vauxhall Bridge to Crick- lade ; or, if thou preferest to cast thy nets, we will accompany thee from London Bridge to Margate. If thou lovest water-sports, we will discourse to thee on that subject, and tell thee a thing or two worth knowing about river- pageants, boat-races, and sailing-matches, and something also about some rare old games of the water, which have now fallen into disuse. If thou art a mere skimmer of books, a lover of small talk and pleasant gossip, even in that case we shall not be caviare to thee. And last of all, if thou art an Utilitarian and a Po- litical Economist, which we hope not, we may take it into our heads to throw a crumb of comfort even to thee, and furnish thee with a fact or two for thy edification, wherewithal thou mayest build up a theory if thou feelest inclined. Not only do we propose to explore Thames, " Great father of the British floods," but all his tributary streams, TRIBUTARIES OF THE THAMES. 7 " The winding Isis, and the fruitful Thame ; The Kennet swift, for silver eels renowned ; The Loddon slow, with verdant alders crowned : Coin, whose dark streams his flowery islands lave ; And chalky Wey, that rolls a milky wave : The blue transparent Vandalis appears ; The gulfy Lee his sedgy tresses rears; And sullen Mole that hides his diving flood ; And silent Darent stained with Danish blood ;" and other rivers, which did not come within the circuit of Pope's song ; the Medway, whose bridal is so sweetly sung in the " Faerie Queene," and who is also celebrated in the Polyolbion, with " Teise, clear Beult, and Lenn, who bear her limber train :'' and many others, which contribute their min- gled waters to the Thames. This, O reader, is our intent. We go as an inoffensive tourist, in search of traditions, in search of antiquities, in search of poetry, in search of fresh breezes, in search of fish. Some- times we may travel at railroad speed, and at others linger about for days in one spot, saun- tering over the hills, sitting under trees by the river side, but conning all the while some- thing for thy edification and amusement. Being, for our sins, a dweller among the smoke, our journey must perforce commence from London. From London Bridge, then, 8 OLD LONDON BRIDGE. we shall proceed upwards to the hills of Cottes- wold, availing ourselves of the steam-boat as far as it will carry us, but, for the most part, tramping it leisurely and independently, after the old fashion, with our stout shoes on, and an oaken cudgel in our fist, a miniature edi- tion of the Fairy Queen in one pocket, and Shakspeare's neglected but delicious poems in the other. When we have in this manner explored Thames and all his tributaries to the west, we shall return eastward, taking another glimpse of London, and follow his windings to the sea, diverging to the right hand or to the left, wherever there is a pleasant view to be had, a relic to be seen, or an old ballad to be elucidated. And now, reader, thou hast only to fancy thyself at London Bridge, on board the Rich- mond steam-boat, awaiting the bell to ring as the signal for starting. Here we are, then, over the very spot where the old bridge stood for nearly a thousand years. The waters roll over its site, steam-boats, barges, and wherries are moored over its foundations, and its juvenile successor, a thing of yesterday, rears its head proudly, close alongside. In the interval of time that separates the erection of the two structures, how vast are the changes the world OLD LONDON BRIDGE. 9 has seen ! The physical world has seen none ; the tides still roll, and the seasons still succeed each other in the same order ; but the mind of man that world which rules the world how immense the progress it has made ! Even while that old bridge lasted, man stepped from barbarism to civilization. Hardly one of the countless thousands that now pour in living streams from morning till night over the path- way of its successor, has time to waste a thought on the old one, or the lesson it might teach him. Its duration was that of twenty gene- rations of mankind ; it seemed built to defy time and the elements, and yet it has crumbled at last. Becoming old and frail, it stood in people's way; and being kicked by one, and insulted by another, it was pulled to pieces without regret, twenty or thirty years, per- haps, before the time when it would have fallen to ruin of its own accord. All this time the river has run below, unchanged and unchangeable, the same as it flowed thousands of years ago, when the now busy thorough- fares on either side were swamps inhabited only by the frog and the bittern, and when painted savages prowled about the places that are now the marts of commerce and the emporium of the world. 10 OLD LONDON BRIDGE. A complete resumt of the manners and cha- racter of the people of England might be made from the various epocha in the age of the old bridge. First, it was a crazy wooden structure, lined on each side with rows of dirty wooden huts, such as befitted a rude age, and a people just emerging from barba- rism. Itinerant dealers in all kinds of goods, spread out their wares on the pathway, making a market of the thoroughfare, and blocking it up with cattle to sell, or waggon-loads of provender. The bridge, while in this pri- mitive state, was destroyed many times by fire, and as many times built up again. Once, in the reign of William Rufus, it was carried away by a flood, and its fragments swept into the sea. The continual expense of these re- novations induced the citizens, under the su- perintendence of Peter of Colechurch, to build it up of stone. This was some improvement ; but the houses on each side remained as poor and miserable as before, dirty outside, and pes- tilential within. Such was its state during the long unhappy centuries of feudalism. What a strange spectacle it must have afforded at that time ! what an emblem of all the motley characteristics of the ruled and the rulers ! Wooden huts and mud floors for the people, OLD LONDON BRIDGE. 11 handsome stone chapels and oratories, adorned with pictures, statues, and stained glass, for the clergy, and drawbridges, portcullises, and all the paraphernalia of attack and defence at either end, to show a government founded upon might rather than right, and to mark the general insecurity of the times; while, to crown all, the awful gate towards Southwark, but overlook- ing the stream, upon which, for a period of nearly three hundred years, it was rare for the passenger to go by without seeing a human head stuck upon a pike, blackening and rotting in the sun. The head of the noble Sir William Wallace was for many months exposed from this spot. In 1471, after the defeat of the famous Fal- conbridge, who made an attack upon London, his head and nine others were stuck upon the bridge together, upon ten spears, where they remained visible to all comers, till the elements and the carrion crows had left nothing of them but the bones. At a later period the head of the pious Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, was stuck up here, along with that of the philosophic Sir Thomas More. The legs of Sir Thomas Wyatt, the son of the well-known poet of the same name, were ex- 12 OLD LONDON BRIDGE. hibited from the same spot, during the reign of Mary. Even the Mayors of London had almost as much power to kill and destroy as the Kings and Queens, so reckless was the age of the life of man. In 1335, the Mayor, one Andrew Aubrey, ordered seven skinners and fishmongers, whose only offence was rioting in the streets, aggravated by personal insult to himself, to be beheaded without form of trial. Their heads were also exposed on the bridge, and the Mayor was not called to ac- count for his conduct. Jack Cade, in the hot fervour of his first successes, imitated this fine example, and set up Lord Saye's head at the same place, little thinking how soon his own would bear it company. The top of the gate used to be like a butcher's shambles, covered with the heads and quarters of unhappy wretches. Hentzner, the German traveller, who visited England in the reign of Elizabeth, states that, in the year 1598, he counted no less than thirty heads upon this awful gate. In an old map of the city, published in the preceding year, the heads are represented in clusters, numerous as the grapes upon a bunch ! The following is a view of the gate as it appeared previous to its demolition in 1757. OLD LONDON BRIDGE. How different are the glories of the new bridge. It also is adorned with human heads, but live ones, thousands at a time, passing and repassing continually to and fro. Of the millions of heads that crowd it every year, busy in making money or taking pleasure, not one dreads the executioner's knife. Every man's head is his own ; and if either King or Lord Mayor dare to meddle with it, it is at his peril. We have luckily passed the age when law-makers could be law-breakers, and 14 NEW LONDON BRIDGE. every man walks in security. While these human heads adorn, no wooden hovels dis- figure the new bridge, or block up the view of the water. Such a view as the one from that place was never meant to be hidden. The " unbounded Thames, that flows for all man- kind," and into whose port " whole nations enter with every tide," bearing with them the wealth of either hemisphere, is a sight that only needs to be seen to be wondered at. And if there is a sight from John o' Groat's house to the Land's End of which an English- man may be proud, it is that. Other sights which we can show to the stranger may reflect more credit upon the land, but that does ho- nour to the men, and is unequalled among any other nation on the globe. The history of the New Bridge is soon told. The narrowness of several of the arches of the old bridge it contained nineteen in all caused the tide to flow through them with a velocity extremely dangerous to small craft, and acci- dents were of daily occurrence. It was at first contemplated to repair the bridge and throw two or three of these small arches into one, but this idea was soon abandoned, and it was re- solved to build a new one. On the 6th of June 1823, the House of Commons voted the NEW LONDON BRIDGE. 15 sum of one hundred and fifty thousand pounds for the purpose, and an extra tax of six- pence per ton having been imposed upon all coals entering the port of London, to provide additional funds, the works were soon after- wards commenced. The plan of Mr. Rennie, was adopted, and the foundation-stone was laid with all the pomp usual upon such great occasions, by the Lord Mayor, Mr. Garratt, in the presence of the Duke of York and a great assemblage of distinguished persons, and all the city functionaries. The bridge was completed in six years, and was opened in great state by King William the Fourth on the 1st of August 1831. The King was accompanied by his Queen Adelaide, by her present Majesty, then Princess Victoria; and her illustrious mother, the Duchess of Kent, the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland, the Duke of Sussex, the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, the Duke of Wellington, and a long array of noble and celebrated indivi- duals. A short detail of the ceremonies ob- served may not be uninteresting. Every ves- sel in the river, every steeple, every house-top, every eminence that commanded a view was crowded with spectators, and to increase the beauty of the scene, the day was remarkably 16 NEW LONDON BRIDGE. fine. When the King and Queen arrived on the bridge they were met by the Lord Mayor and the Lady Mayoress, the former of whom presented his Majesty with the Sword of State, the Lady Mayoress at the same time present- ing the Queen with a flower. According to the old formality, the Lord Mayor was desired to keep his sword, as it was in such good hands, and the procession began. Preceded by the Duke of Devonshire (the Lord Chamber- lain) walking backwards according to the eti- quette, his Majesty arm-in-arm with the Queen, and followed by the royal family, the great officers of state, and his court, the members of the corporation of London, and the ambassa- dors, or other illustrious visitors, walked slowly over the bridge to the South wark side, amid the firing of cannon, and the joyous ringing of all the bells in the metropolis. Here his Ma- jesty witnessed the ascent of a balloon, and then returned to the city side to a pavilion erected on the bridge, where a sumptuous col- lation was prepared at the expense of the City. After the repast, and when the usual toasts had been given, the Lord Mayor, with a suit- able address, presented the King with a golden cup ; on receiving which his Majesty made the following short but very appropriate speech : NEW LONDON BRIDGE. 17 " I cannot but refer on this occasion to the great work which has been accomplished by the city of London. The city of London has ever been renowned for its magnificent im- provements ; and we are commemorating a most extraordinary instance of their skill and talent. I shall propose the source from which this vast improvement sprung The trade and commerce of the city of London." The toast, of course, was enthusiastically honoured, and soon afterwards the festivities terminated. His Majesty then entered the barge prepared for him, and was rowed up the river to Somerset- house, where he disembarked. The demolition of the old bridge was imme- diately commenced, and within a few months not a vestige of it remained. But the signal-bell has rung, and our steam- boat proceeds up the ancient highway of the city towards Westminster, in the track of all the Lord Mayors since Norman, in the year 1454. This worthy functionary was very fond of the water, and first began the custom, regu- larly continued since his day, of proceeding to Westminster Hall by water, with a grand city pageant. The boatmen took him in great af- fection in consequence, and one of them wrote a song upon him, the burden of which was, VOL. i. c 18 VIEW FROM LONDON BRIDGE. " Row thy boat, Norman, Row to thy Leman." What a formidable array of steeples is to be seen as we get out of sight of the shipping ! No city in Europe can show such a forest of ships, or such a forest of steeples, as London. The most prominent object in the view is St. Paul's, rearing his head, as fat and saucy as if he were a bishop with forty thousand a-year. Around him are gathered the inferior digni- taries of the Church, some of them looking in good condition enough, but most of them as tall and thin as if they had a wife and six children, and only a curacy of eighty pounds a-year to support them. What a contrast there is now, and always has been, both in the character and appearance of the two sides of the river. The London side, high and well-built, thickly studded with spires and public edifices, and resounding with all the noise of the operations of a various in- dustry ; the Southwark and Lambeth side, low and flat, and meanly built, with scarcely an edifice higher than a coal-shed or timber-yard, and a population with a squalid, dejected, and debauched look, offering a remarkable contrast to the cheerfulness and activity visible on the faces of the Londoners. The situation upon SOUTHWARK. 19 the low swamp is, no doubt, one cause of the unhealthy appearance of the dwellers on the south of the Thames ; but the dissolute rake- hellish appearance of the lower orders of them must be otherwise accounted for. From a very early age, Southwark and Lambeth, and the former especially, were the great sinks and common receptacles of all the vice and immo- rality of London. Up to the year 1328, South- wark had been independent of the jurisdiction of London, a sort of neutral ground, which the law could not reach, and, in consequence, the abode of thieves and abandoned characters of every kind. They used to sally forth in bands of one and two hundreds at a time, to rob in the city ; and the Lord Mayor and Aldermen for the time being had not unfre- quently to keep watch upon the bridge for nights together, at the head of a troop of armed men, to prevent their inroads. The thieves, however, upon these occasions took to their boats at midnight, and rowing up the river, landed at Westminster, and drove all before them with as much valour, and as great impunity as a border chieftain upon a foray into Cumberland. These things induced the magistrates of London to apply to Edward the Third for a grant of Southwark. The c 2 20 SOUTHWARK. request was complied with, and the vicious place brought under the rule of the city. Driven in some measure from this nest, the thieves took refuge in Lambeth, and still set the authorities at defiance. From that day to this the two boroughs have had the same cha- racter, and been known as the favourite resort of thieves and vagabonds of every description. It was here, under the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Winchester, that all the stews existed for centuries, being licensed by that prelate for a fee. Their inhabitants and frequenters were long known in London as the " Bishop of Winches- ter's birds." Players also, then ranking with these and similar characters, under the common designation of " vagabonds," flocked to the same spot, together with fraudulent bankrupts, swindlers, debtors, and all men who had misun- derstandings with the law, and were fearful of clearing them up, lest their goods and bodies might be demanded in expiation. Here, in former days, stood the privileged " Mint" and " Clink ;" and here in the present day stands the privileged " Bench," within whose "Rules" are congregated the same vi- cious and demoralized class of people that aU ways inhabited it. Stews also abound, though THE GLOBE THEATRE. 21 no bishop receives fees from them ; and penny theatres, where the performers are indeed va- gabonds, and the audience thieves. But the low shore of Southwark has more agreeable reminiscences. It was here, near the spot still called Bankside, that stood the Globe Theatre at the commencement of the seven- teenth century; the theatre of which Shaks- peare was in part proprietor, where some of his plays were first produced, and where he himself performed in them. It was of an octagonal form, partly covered with thatch, as we learn from the account of Stowe, who says, that in the year 1613, ten years after it was first licensed to Shakspeare and Burbage, and the rest, the thatch took fire by the negligent discharge of a piece of ordnance, and in a very short time the whole building was consumed. The house was o filled with people to witness the representation of Henry the Eighth, but they all escaped un- hurt. This was the end of Shakspeare's the- atre. It was rebuilt, apparently, in a similar style, early in the following year. Besides this, there were three other theatres on the Bankside, called the Rose, the Hope, and the Swan. These appear to have been, for some undiscovered reason, called private the- atres. There was this difference between them 22 PARIS GARDEN. and the Globe and other public theatres ; the latter were open to the sky, except over the stage and galleries ; but the private theatres were completely covered in from the weather. On the roof of all of them, whether public or private, a flag was always hoisted to mark the time of the performances. Two other places of amusement on the river-side deserve to be mentioned ; the Paris Garden, and the Bear Garden, in which, be- sides dramatic entertainments of an inferior class, there were combats of animals. Ben Jonson is reproached by Dekker, with hav- ing been so degraded as to perform at Paris Garden. These places always seem to have been in bad repute, even when they flourished most. Crowley, a rhymer of the reign of Henry the Eighth, thus speaks of Paris Gar- den. What folly is this to keep with danger A great mastiff dog and foul ugly bear, And to this anent, to see them two fight With terrible tearings, a full ugly sight ; And methinks these men are most fools of all Whose store of money is but very small, And yet every Sunday they will surely spend One penny or two, the Bearward's living to mend. At Paris Garden each Sunday a man shall not fail, To find two or three hundred for the Bearward's vale, BAYNAHD'S CASTLE. 23 One halfpenny a piece they use for to give, When some have not more in their purses, I believe. Well, at the last day their conscience will declare, That the poor ought to have all that they may spare ; If you, therefore, go to see a bear fight, Be sure God his curse will upon you light." Pennant, who quotes these verses, seems to consider the last two lines as a prophecy of the calamity that happened at the Garden in the year 1582. An accident, Heaven directed, says he, befell the spectators ; the scaffolding, crowd- ed with people, suddenly fell, and more than a hundred persons were killed or severely wound- ed. The Bear Garden, notwithstanding its name, was chiefly used for bull-baiting. Sailing onwards to the Southwark or iron- bridge we pass on the Middlesex shore many places, now wharfs and warehouses, which were formerly the abodes of nobles, or palaces and fortresses. Here stood the famous Baynard's Castle, where Richard the Third pretended such coyness to accept the crown ; Cold or Cole Harbour, the residence of the celebrated Hum- phrey de Bohun Earl of Hereford and Essex, in the reign of Edward the Third ; of the Earls of Huntingdon, in the time of Richard the Second; and of the Earls of Cambridge shortly afterwards. It was also inhabited by Henry the Fifth when he was Prince of 24 THE ERBER. Wales, and by Tonstal Bishop of Durham, in the reign of Henry the Eighth. Not a vestige of it now exists. Dowgate Hill, near this spot, was formerly the port or water-gate of the city, where, in the Saxon times, all vessels pro- ceeded to unload their cargoes. As early as the time of the Romans there was here a gate for passengers who wanted to cross the ferry. The little rivulet of Walbrook, clear in the days of barbarism, but rendered filthy as Lon- don grew civilized, runs into the Thames at this place. It takes its rise to the north of Moorfields, and gives its name to one of the most considerable streets of ancient London. Near Dow-gate stood the ancient palace, called for distinction the Erber or Harbour ; a corrup- tion, probably, of Herberge, an inn. It was a large building, inhabited in the reign of Ed- ward the Third by the noble family of Scroope, from whom it came into the possession of the as noble family of Neville. The Earl of Salis- bury, father-in-law to Warwick, the '* king- maker," lodged here with five hundred of his retainers, in the famous congress of the barons, after the defeat of the Larjcasterian party at the battle of St. Alban's, when Henry the Sixth was deposed and Edward the Fourth ascended the throne in his stead. It was in THE ERBER. 25 the latter reign inhabited for a short time by George Duke of Clarence, brother of the king, and the same whose death in the butt of malmsey in the Tower, has rendered his name and title familiar to all the readers of history. After his murder the palace reverted to the crown, but it was restored by Henry the Eighth to the unfortunate daughter of Cla- rence, Margaret Countess of Salisbury, who was beheaded in the Tower in her old age, for the crime of being mother to Cardinal Pole. The building was, after a long interval, pur- chased by the Drapers' Company, but has been long since pulled down. THE GLOBE THEATRE, BANKSIDE. CHAPTER II. Doctors' Commons. The Fleet Ditch. The Temple Gardens. Ancient and Modern Templars. Somerset House and Waterloo Bridge. Romance of Modern London. The Savoy Palace. Henry the Eighth's Tournament and Festival at Durham House. The Adelphi. Whitehall. FTER passing the Southwark iron-bridge, completed in the year 1818, we arrive at Doc- tors' Commons, famous as the residence of ecclesiastical law- yers, and the seat of the ecclesiastical judges. It was at one time in contemplation to have pulled down all the houses between the river and St. Paul's church at this spot, and to have thrown open that magnificent edifice to public view from the stream. If the project had been carried into effect, the improvement to the banks of the Thames would have been great, and a beautiful pros- pect would have been obtained. But as the projectors, in answer to the " cui bono," of the ST. PAUL'S CATHEDHAL. 27 capitalists, had no other reply than " beauty," the project soon fell to the ground. It was found to be expensive, and not likely to be productive. One cannot, however, help regretting that so fine a project was not carried into execution. The beautiful Cathedral is not at present to be seen from a favourable point of view in any part of London, either by land or water. The most favourable is from Black friars' Bridge. Shall we linger to describe an edifice that all the world is acquainted with ? Shall we di- 28 FLEET DITCH. late upon the glories of its architecture ; the fame of the great statesmen, orators, patriots, and poets, whose monuments are within its walls ? Shall we remind the passer-by of the fine thought to the memory of its great builder, " Lector, si monuraentum requiris, circumspice ? " or expatiate upon things connected with the history of this edifice, that are familiar, or ought to be, to every Englishman ? No ; we will pass on with silent admiration, or perhaps, a reiteration of our regret that so magnificent a building, and so hallowed a site, should be shut from the sight, when at an expense, inconsi- derable in comparison with the vastness of the improvement, a view might be obtained, worthy alike of this great capital, and of the finest Protestant church in the world. Close adjoining to Blackfriars' bridge the dirtiest of the tributaries of the Thames runs into the sovereign river the Fleet formerly called a river itself, but now and for ages past degraded to a ditch ; covered over in all its course through London, as something too of- fensive to be seen. Pope in his Dunciad has celebrated it in the following lines. Fleet Ditch with disemboguing streams Rolls the large tribute of dead dogs to Thames. The king of dykes 1 than whom no sluice of mud With deeper sable blots the silver flood. TEMPLE GARDENS. 29 At the time when Pope wrote, the ditch was open to the gaze of all the world, and it is said the corporation were so shamed by the verses, that they soon afterwards carried into effect the improvement, of arching it over and forming Fleet Market the present Farringdon Street upon its site ; a plan which had been for years in contemplation, but continually postponed upon one pretence or another. A little further up the stream, to the west of Blackfriars 1 Bridge, stands the precinct of the White Friars, the ancient "Alsatia" of the thieves and debtors, and famous to most read- ers, from the graphic and entertaining descrip- tion given of it by Sir Walter Scott. It is now chiefly inhabited by coal-merchants, and retains not one of its former privileges. We next arrive at a different scene. A plot of fresh green grass an oasis of trees and verdure amid the wilderness of brick and mortar that encompass it on every side. The houses that form this pleasant square are high and regular, and have a solemn and sedate look, befitting the antiquity and historical sanctity of their site, and the grave character of the people that inhabit them. Here are the Temple Gardens, sacred to the Goddess of Strife. Their former occupants, the Knights Templars, were quar- 30 TEMPLE GARDENS. relsome folk enough, God knows ; and the new tenants of their abode keep themselves respect- able out of the proceeds of quarrels, fatten upon quarrels, and buy themselves wigs and gowns out of them. Woe betide the wight whom they entangle in their meshes ! They will put the vulture of litigation in him to gnaw out his entrails, and will tie a millstone round his neck, which they call " COSTS," to drag him down to ruin. In those gloomy chambers, so pleasantly situated, sits LAW, as upon a throne. Sweet are all the purlieus of the spot : flowers blos- som, trees cast a refreshing shade, and a foun- tain maketh a pleasant murmur all the year; but each room in that precinct is a den inhabit- ed by a black spider, who sucks the blood of foolish flies who, by quarrelling and fight- ing, struggle themselves into the toils. It is fair outside, to make the world believe that it is the abode of justice and equity ; but its beauty is but a cheat and a lure, to hide from too common observers the revenge, rapacity, and roguery that lie beneath the surface. Hoity toity ! quoth we to ourselves what a fuss about nothing! What a gross injustice we have given utterance to ! What a foul libel we have penned upon that learned and eminent body ! and all for the sake of what ? For the TEMPLE GARDENS. 31 mere sake of saying something pungent or ill- natured, which with many people is all the same. Forgive us, O shades of learned Sir Thomas More, of upright Sir Matthew Hale, of philosophic Lord Bacon ! forgive us, spirits of Clarendon, Camden, and Mansfield! forgive us, living Denman, Tindal, Brougham, that we should have so slandered the profession of which ye have been or are the ornaments ! Wit, worth, and wisdom are associated with your names, and with hundreds of others, both alive and dead, whom we could specify, if there were any need for it. " We never were known for a railer, In fun all this slander we spoke ; For a lawyer, as well as a sailor, Is not above taking a joke." It is in these gardens that Shakspeare, in the First Part of his Henry the Sixth, has laid the scene of the first quarrel of the rival houses of York and Lancaster, and where the red and the white roses, the badges afterwards of bloody wars, were first plucked, and where Warwick is made to prophesy, The brawl to day Grown to this faction in the Temple garden, Shall send between the red rose and the white, A thousand souls to death and deadly night." TEMPLE GARDENS. Whether the immortal bard had the authority of any tradition current in his day, or whether the scene was thus laid with the licence usually claimed by, and allowed to, poets, is not known with certainty. Sailing onwards from the Temple we arrive opposite Arundel Street, leading down from the Strand. Here formerly stood Hampton Place, the Episcopal residence of the Bishops of Bath and Wells. It was granted by King Edward the Sixth to his uncle, Lord Seymour of Sudely, who changed its name to Seymour Place. Upon his attainder and execution it SOMERSET HOUSE. 33 was purchased by the Earl of Arundel, who once more changed its name. It then came by marriage into the possession of the family of the Duke of Norfolk. It was in his time "a large and old-built house, with a spacious yard for stabling towards the Strand, and with a gate to enclose it, where there was a porter's lodge, and a large fair garden towards the Thames." When the great Duke de Sully, then Marquis de Rosny, was ambassador in England, this house was set apart for his ac- commodation, and he mentions it as one of the finest and most commodious in London. The house was pulled down about the middle of the seventeenth century. The family name and titles are still retained for the streets which arose upon its site ; Norfolk Street, Surrey Street, and others. A short distance beyond is Somerset House, a large pile of building, chiefly used now as government offices, except one wing, recent- ly added, which is occupied by the officers and scholars of King's College, London. Somerset House took its name from the Duke of So- merset, Lord Protector during the reign of Edward the Sixth ; it is not, however, the building erected by that princely nobleman, but a mere modern edifice erected in the VOL. I. D 34 SOMERSET HOUSE. reign of George the Third, undei the super- intendence of Sir William Chambers. The architect of the original fabric was John of Padua. After the attainder of Somerset it devolved to the crown, and Queen Elizabeth frequently inhabited it. Anne of Denmark, Queen of James the First, held her court here, and so did Catharine, Queen of Charles the Second. It at last became appropriated of right to the Queens Dowager, and was fre- quently appointed for the reception of ambassa- dors, whom the monarchs delighted especially to honour. The Venetian ambassador made a grand public entry into old Somerset House in 1763, a short time before it was pulled down. In the quadrangle opposite the Strand en- trance, stands the gigantic piece of bronze ex- ecuted by Bacon, the principal figure of which is an allegorical representation of the Thames. Immediately adjoining is Waterloo Bridge, the finest of the many fine structures that span the bosom of the Thames within metropolitan limits. Around its arches clings half the ro- mance of modern London. It is the English " Bridge of Sighs," the ' Pons Asinorum," the " Lover's Leap," the " Arch of Suicide," and well deserves all these appellations. Many a sad and too true tale might be told, the be- WATERLOO BRIDGE. 35 ginning and end of which would be " Wa- terloo Bridge." It is a favourite spot for love assignations ; and a still more favourite spot for those who long to cast off the load of existence, and cannot wait, through sorrow, until the Almighty Giver takes away his gift. Its comparative loneliness renders it convenient for both purposes. The penny toll keeps off the inquisitive and unmannerly crowd; and the foolish can love or the mad can die with less observation from the passers than they could find anywhere else so close to the heart of London. To many a poor girl the assignation over one arch of Waterloo Bridge is but the prelude to the fatal leap from another. Here they begin, and here they end, after a long course of intermediate crime and sorrow, the unhappy story of their loves. Here, also, wary and practised courtezans lie in wait for the Asini, so abundant in London, and who justify its appellation of the Pons Asinorum. Here fools become entrapped, and wise men too some- times, the one losing their money, and the other their money and self-respect. But, with all its vice, Waterloo Bridge is pre-eminently the " Bridge of Sorrow." There is less of the ludi- crous to be seen from its smooth highway than from almost any other in the metropolis. The 36 VIEW FROM people of London continually hear of unhappy men and women who throw themselves from its arches, and as often of the finding of bodies in the water, which may have lain there for weeks, no one knowing how or when they came there, no one being able to distinguish their lineaments. But, often as these things are heard of, few are aware of the real number of victims that choose this spot to close an un- happy career, few know that, taking one year with another, the average number of suicides committed from this place is about thirty. Notwithstanding these gloomy associations, Waterloo Bridge is a pleasant spot. Any one WATERLOO BRIDGE. 37 who wishes to enjoy a panoramic view un- equalled of its kind in Europe, has only to proceed thither, just at the first faint peep of dawn, and he will be gratified. A more lovely prospect of a city it is impossible to imagine than that which will burst upon him as he draws near to the middle arch. Scores of tall spires, unseen during the day, are distinctly seen at that hour, each of which seems to mount upwards to double its usual height, standing out in bold relief against the clear blue sky. Even the windows of distant houses, no longer, as in the noon-tide view, blended together in one undistinguishable mass, seern larger and nearer, and more clear- ly defined ; every chimney-pot stands alone, tracing against the smokeless sky a perfect outline. Eastward, the view embraces the whole of ancient London, from " the towers of Julius" to its junction with Westminster at Temple Bar. Directly opposite stands Somer- set House, by far the most prominent, and, the most elegant building, St. Paul's excepted, in all the panorama ; while to the west rise the hoary towers of Westminster Abbey, with, far in the distance, glimpses of the hills of Sur- rey crowned with verdure. The Thames, which flows in a crescent-shaped course, adds that pe- 38 SAVOY PALACE. culiar charm which water always affords to a landscape. If the visiter has time, he will do well to linger for a few hours on the spot till all the fires are lighted, and the haze of noon ap- proaches. He will gradually see many objects disappear from the view. First of all, the hills of Surrey will be undistinguishable in the distance ; steeples far away in the north and east of London will vanish as if by magic ; houses half a mile off, in which you might at first have been able to count the panes of glass in the windows, will agglomerate into shapeless masses of brick. After a time, the manufactories and gas-works, belching out vo- lumes of smoke, will darken all the atmo- sphere ; steam-boats plying continually to and fro will add their quota to the general im- purity of the air; while all these mingling together will form that dense cloud which habitually hangs over London, and excludes its inhabitants from the fair share of sunshine to which all men are entitled. While thus gossipping with thee, O reader, we have passed under the arch, and arrived at a spot which was once famous in the annals of England. A number of coal-wharfs mark the site of the palace of the Savoy, the resi- dence of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, SAVOY PALACE. 39 and the poet Chaucer. The building was pil- laged by a London mob in the year 1376, when the Duke narrowly escaped with his life. It was during the excitement occasioned by the citation of Wickliffe, when John of Gaunt, on account of the disorderly behaviour of the Londoners, had moved in Parliament that there should be no more a Lord Mayor of London, and that the government of the city should in future be delivered over to the mi- litary, and for the time being to Lord Percy, the Chief Marshal of England. The Lon- doners immediately arose in arms, destroyed the Marshalsea, where Lord Percy resided, and then proceeded to the Savoy, swearing to take the life of the Duke of Lancaster for threaten- ing their liberties, and insulting their bishop in St. Paul's church, in the matter of Wickliffe. They threw all the costly furniture into the river, made a complete wreck of the building, and killed, in a very barbarous manner, a priest whom they mistook for Lord Percy in dis- guise. Percy himself and the Duke of Lan- cancaster were dining that day at the house of a rich merchant named John of Ypres, and escaped to Lambeth, by rowing up the river, at the very time that the populace were seek- ing them in every corner of the Savoy. Five 40 SAVOY PALACE. years afterwards the Savoy was attacked by the rebels under Wat Tyler, and reduced to ashes with all its valuable furniture. In the reign of Henry the Seventh, an hospital was founded here; it was dedicated to St. John the Baptist, and consisted of a master and four brethren, who were to be in priest's orders, and officiate alternately, by standing at the gate and looking out for objects of charity, who were to be taken in and fed. To tra- vellers they were bound to afford one night's lodging, a letter of recommendation to the next hospital on his road, and as much money as would enable him to reach it. This hospital was suppressed by Edward the Sixth, and the furniture given to the Hospitals of Bridewell and St. Thomas. It was restored by Queen Mary to its original uses, and more liberally endowed than ever it had been before. In the first year of Queen Anne, commissioners, con- sisting of seven temporal and seven spiritual lords, were appointed to visit the hospital and report upon it. By their recommendation the brethren or chaplains were dismissed, and the hospital dissolved. According to the plates published by the Society of Antiquaries in 1750, the building was large and commodious. The front towards the Thames contained seve- SAVOY PALACE. 41 ral projections and two rows of angular mul- lioned windows. To the north was the Friary ; a court formed of the walls of the body of the Hospital, whose ground- plan was in the shape of the cross. At the west end was a guard- house, used for many years afterwards as a receptacle for deserters, and the quarters for thirty men and non-commissioned officers. This was secured by a strong buttress, and had a gateway embellished with the arms of Henry the Seventh. The descent from the Strand was by two flights of stone steps, 42 SALISBURY HOUSE. nearly to the depth of three stories of a dwell- ing-house. The approaches to the Waterloo Bridge cleared away a great part of it. The chapel still remains, having been substantially repaired by King George the First, in the year 1721, at his sole expense. Cowley the poet was long a candidate for the mastership of the Hospital, but he never obtained it. The foregoing is a view of it as it stood in Cowley's time. At a few yards distant are Cecil and Salisbury Streets, leading from the Strand to the Thames. They are the site of Salisbury House, built by Sir Robert Cecil, created Earl of Salisbury by King James the First. The edifice, which was very large, was afterwards divided into two parts, the one called Great, and the other Little Salisbury House ; the first being inha- bited by the Earl and his family, and the latter being let out to different persons. An- other part, next Great Salisbury House, was converted into an Exchange in the time of George the First and Second, consisting of one long room, extending from the Strand to the river ; with shops for the sale of fancy goods on each side. At the end there was a handsome flight of steps to the water. The place, somehow or other, acquired a bad name ; DURHAM PLACE. 43 our ancestors chose it as a spot for assignations with frail fair ones ; and all the respectable inhabitants in a short time deserted it. In the spot, where now a long dirty lane wends its obscure course from the Strand to the Thames, stood, in the reign of Henry the Eighth, a magnificent palace, called Durham Place. The modern range of the Adelphi Terrace also occupies a portion of its site. In the year 1540 a grand tournament was held at Westminster under the auspices of the King, who had sent challenges and invitations to all the doughtiest knights of France, Flanders, Scotland, and Spain, to be present at the sports. After the diversions of each day, the King, with his newly married and already hated Queen, Anne of Cleves, repaired to Durham Place, where a magnificent feast was given. On the last day not only the combatants and all the lords and ladies of the court, but the members of both Houses of Parliament, the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of London, and all foreigners of distinction were invited. The King gave to each of the challengers and his heirs for ever in reward of his activity and valour, a yearly revenue of one hundred marks out of the lands pertaining to the hospital of St. John of Jerusalem. 44 DURHAM PLACE. Edward the Sixth appointed it as a mint for the coinage of money under the manage- ment of Sir William Sherington, and the in- fluence of the ambitious Lord Seymour of Sudeley. It was one of the charges brought against the latter that he intended to coin money here for his own purposes, and to aid him in his designs upon the throne. The place afterwards became the residence of the equally ambitious Dudley, Earl of Northum- berland ; where, in the year 1553, he solem- nized, with the greatest magnificence, the mar- riages of three of his family : Lord Guildford Dudley, his son, with the unfortunate Lady Jane Gray ; Lady Katharine Dudley, his daugh- ter, with the Earl of Huntingdon ; and Lady Katharine Gray, sister of Lady Jane, with the Lord Herbert, son of the Earl of Pembroke. The fate of nearly all these personages was to perish upon the scaffold, the prime cause of their ill fortune being the ambition of their father ; whose own sire, Dudley the extor- tioner, died a similar death. Durham Place was one of the palaces occasionally inhabited by Queen Elizabeth. She granted the use of apartments in it, for a time, to Sir Walter Ra- leigh, who is said to have composed here some chapters of his famous History of the World. "THE WHITE MILLINER." 45 Part of the stables connected with this building were taken down in the early part of the reign of King James, and an Exchange upon the plan of the Royal Exchange, called Britain's Burse, erected upon the site. It be- came a place of fashionable resort until the reign of Queen Anne. In her time it was the scene of a romantic incident, which created much interest and conversation. The chief walk was appropriated to milliners and semp- stresses, and one of them, a new-comer, was observed for several days to appear always dressed in white, and wore a white mask. The fashionable loungers, whose curiosity was excited by the mystery, endeavoured in vain to obtain a sight of her face, and all the town talked of " the White Milliner" It was after- wards discovered that she was the Duchess of Tyrconnell, widow of Richard Talbot, Lord Deputy of Ireland under King James the Second, who being reduced to great distress, had endeavoured to support herself by the little trade of the Exchange. As soon as her condition was ascertained, her relations ap- peared and provided otherwise for her. Nearly all the ancient structure of Dur- ham Place was pulled down, and the Messrs. Adam, four brothers, builders, erected the 46 VILLIERS, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. Terrace and the neighbouring streets, which is called after them, the Adelphi. Adjoining is the site of York House, in- habited, formerly, by Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, and the Lord Chancellor Bacon. It afterwards became the residence of the fa- mous George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, who rebuilt it in a more magnificent manner. The gateway still standing at the end of Buck- ingham Street, a full view of which is ob- tained from the river, is the onlv remnant of V the palace. It was built by Inigo Jones, and is much admired. The palace was bestowed by the Long Parliament upon General Fair- fax, whose daughter and heiress marrying the second George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, it was thus restored to the family of its ori- ginal proprietors. It was soon afterwards dis- posed of and pulled down, and several streets laid out upon its site, and named after one or other of the words in the name and title of George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham ; there being George Street, Villiers Street, Duke Street, Of Alley, and Buckingham Street. In a large house at the corner of Buckingham Street, then called York Buildings, resided the Czar Peter the Great, when he visited Lon- don in 1698, and where he and the Marquis CUPER'S GARDENS. 47 of Carmarthen, Lord President of the Council, used to spend their evenings in drinking " hot pepper and brandy." Nearly opposite, on the site now occupied by the timber-wharfs of the Belvidere Road, formerly stood a celebrated place of public re- sort, called Cuper's Gardens, famous, at the end of the seventeenth and beginning of the eighteenth century, for its grand displays of fire-works. It was not, however, the resort of respectable company, but of the abandoned of both sexes. The place took its name from one Boy dell Cuper, who had been gardener in the service of Lord Arundel, and who rented the ground of his lordship. When Arundel House was pulled down to make way for the street of the same name, already mentioned, a number of the statues which had once adorned that edi- fice, but which had been accidentally or other- wise mutilated, came into the possession of Cuper, who set them up in different parts of his gardens. In the river opposite was moored an im- mense barge, by some said to have been as bulky as the hull of a man-of-war, which was known by the name of " The Folly." It was the resort of even a worse description of per- sons than those who frequented the Gardens on shore. 48 THE FOLLY. In one of Tom D'Urfey's songs called " A Touch of the Times," published in 1719, the Folly is thus mentioned : " When ' Drapers' smugg'd 'Prentices, With Exchange Girls mostly jolly, After shop was shut up, Could sail to the Folly." In a MS. note in Sir John Hawkins's own copy of his History of Music, now in the Bri- tish Museum, it is stated that " this edifice was built of timber, and divided into sundry rooms, with a platform and balustrade at top, which floated on the Thames above London Bridge, and was called the Folly : a view of it, an- chored opposite Somerset House, is given in Strype's Stow, Book 4th, p. 105 ; and the Hu- mours of it were described by Ward in ^his London Spy. At first it was resorted to for refreshment by persons of fashion ; and Queen Mary with some of her courtiers, had once the curiosity to visit it ; but it sunk into a recep- tacle for companies of loose and disorderly peo- ple, for the purposes of drinking and promis- cuous dancing; and at length becoming scan- dalous, the building was suffered to decay, and the materials thereof became fire-wood." See vol. v. p. 352. Passing Hungerford Market, and North um- WHITEHALL. 49 berland House, the residence of the present Duke, and the only one remaining of the old noble residences that formerly skirted the Thames, we arrive at a pleasant green spot, rising like another oasis amid surrounding dust. It is a fair lawn, neatly trimmed, and di- vided into compartments by little walls. In the rear rises a row of goodly modern houses, the abodes of ministers, and ex-ministers, and " lords of high degree." But it is not so much for what it exhibits, as for what it hides, that it is remarkable. The row of houses screens Whitehall and its historical purlieus from the view. Just behind the house with the bow-windows, inhabited by Sir Robert Peel, is the spot where Charles the First was beheaded. In a nook close by, as if pur- posely hidden from the view of the world, there is a very good statue of a very bad King. Unknown to the thousands of Lon- don, James the Second rears his brazen head in a corner, ashamed apparently, even in his effigies, to affront the eyes of the nation he misgoverned. The Banqueting House of Whitehall stands on the site of York House, chiefly famous as having been the town residence of Cardinal VOL. I. E 50 WHITEHALL. Wolsey. It was originally erected by that powerful nobleman, Hubert de Burgh, Earl of Kent and Lord High Justiciary of England, in the troublous times of Henry the Third. It was bequeathed by him to the Black Friars of Holborn ; and, after a short interval, sold by them to the Archbishop of York. It re- mained the residence of the prelates of that see, and bore their name, until the time of Wolsey ; after whose fall it was seized by the all-grasping Henry, and made an appendage to the royal palace of Westminster, which ex- tended, along the banks of the river, from hence to the Houses of Parliament. In Elizabeth's time there were great doings here on several occasions, as the curious reader may see in the pages of Holinshed and Stowe. Fortresses and bowers were made for this " perfect beau tie," a red-haired woman of forty-nine, which were vigorously attacked by knights representing Desire, typical of the great admiration her personal charms, more than the majesty of her station, excited. Tournaments were also instituted, together with maskings and revels, and various other mummeries. In the time of her successor the old palace had become so ruinous that it was determined WHITEHALL. 51 to rebuild it. James the First intrusted the design to Inigo Jones, who built the edifice now known by the name of the Banqueting House, a representation of which is given below, and which was only intended as a part, and a very small one, of a more magnificent conception. The palace was to have consisted of four fronts, each with an entrance between two square towers. Within were to have been one large central court and five smaller ones, and between two of the latter was to have been a handsome circus, with an arcade below. The whole length of the palace was to have been 1152 feet, and its depth 874 feet. The times which succeeded those of James were not fa- vourable for such designs and expenses as these, and the palace was never completed. CHAPTER III. Westminster Bridge. The Houses of Parliament. Anec- dote of James the First. Westminster Abbey. Lam- beth Palace. Flight of Queen Mary D'Este. Palaces and Hovels. Vauxhall Gardens. Sports at Battersea. Evans the Astrologer. Chelsea Hospital. Reminis- cences of Chelsea. Battersea. A Song. The River Wandle. The Mayor of Garratt. Putney. Anecdote of Cardinal Wolsey and his Fool. || t TILL sailing up the stream, we next pass under the arches of Westminster Bridge. This edi- fice was commenced in 1738, and finished in 1750. The Corporation of London had a notion that it would injure the trade of the city ; and while the bill relating to it under- went discussion in the legislature, they opposed it by every means in their power. For many years afterwards, London aldermen thought it pollution to go over it, and passed by it as saucily and with as much contempt as a dog would by a " stinking brock." So highly was the bridge esteemed by its projectors, that WESTMINSTER BRIDGE. 53 they procured the admission of a clause into the act of Parliament, by which the punish- ment of death without benefit of clergy was declared against any one who should wilfully deface or injure it. Dogs also were kept off it with as much rigour as they are now excluded from Kensington Gardens. It does not appear, however, that dog or man was ever hanged either for defiling or defacing the precious structure. " O happy age ! O good old times gone by I Even dogs might howl, and pipe their sorrowing eye, Were ye restored 1" And now we are clear of the bridge, the river opens out before us in a longer sweep, and we arrive in front of the open space oppo- site to Westminster Hall, known by the name of Palace Yard, so called from its having been the court of the old palace of Westmin- ster. Of all the remarkable sites in Eng- land, this and its neighbourhood is doubt- less the most remarkable; and no other place upon the Thames, not even the princely towers and purlieus of Windsor itself, can vie with these in the recollections they recall or the emotions which they excite. There stands yet survivor amid calamity the elegant Hall and the entrances to the Chief Courts of Jus- 54 THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. tice of this kingdom, courts in which Gas- coigne, More, Hale, Bacon, Camden, Holt, Coke, Mansfield, Eldon, Brougham, and a host of other eminent and learned men, have pre- sided. There also are the ruins of the Houses of Lords and Commons, burnt down in the year 1834, where the liberties of England were gained, gradually but surely, through long cen- turies of doubt and darkness. There began the struggle for freedom, which never ceased till its object was won. There was heard the eloquent patriotism of all the patriots that have arisen in our land since the days of Pym, Holies, and Hampden ; there was tyranny resisted by the tongue and the vote, stronger weapons in a right cause than the glaive or the gun ; there was the right established the wrong cast down civilisation extended and slavery abolished. There, in former days, were to be seen and heard a Cranmer, a Strafford, a Laud, and a Cromwell. Nearer our own age, a Maryborough, a Harley, a Walpole, a Bolingbroke, and a Chatham. Nearer still, a Pitt, a Fox, a Burke, a Grattan, and a Sheri- dan ; and (men of yesterday) a Canning, a Mackintosh, a Wilberforce, and a Romilly ; with many others who have written their names for good or for evil on the page of his- THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. 55 tory. And here too, in our own day, walking and breathing among us, are to be seen, in their appointed season, a Wellington, a Brougham, a Den man, a Melbourne, a Russell, a Durham, a Peel, and an O'Connell, with hundreds more of great, though of lesser, note, whose names are inscribed already in the great book of history, but whose deeds are not yet ended ; and who are destined, perhaps, hereafter to make a still greater figure in the annals of the mightiest empire the world ever saw. Great was the sorrow of every lover of his country when the ancient seats of the British legislature were destroyed though they were but stones, and brick and mortar, and wood, they were hallowed in the hearts of English- men. Who could help regretting that the very boards upon which Chatham and Pitt and Fox and Burke and Canning trod could never more be trodden by the admirers of their worth, and that the walls that re-echoed to their words, or to the approving cheers of their delighted auditory, had crumbled in the flame ? Not one, who had a thought to bestow upon the matter. The legislature now assemble in that heavy- looking building, something like a barn, the top of which may be seen from the river as 56 THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. we pass. Hundreds of workmen are, however, busily employed in preparing the terrace, taken from the bed of the river, upon which the future Houses of Parliament are to stand. The design of Mr. Barry is worthy of its object; and, when completed, promises to be a fit seat for the British legislature. -~'^% l -j .:-. This spot was, originally, the most desolate and barren of any in the neighbourhood of London. In the time of the Romans, it was a waste, overgrown with weeds and thorns, bounded on two sides by a dirty stream, after- wards called the Long Ditch. One of the first buildings erected upon it was a minster, un- dertaken by the converted King Sibert, in the ANECDOTE OF JAMES I. 5? year 610. To this minster the now famous city of Westminster owes all its greatness, and even its name. The seat of a bishop, it soon drew a busy population around it, who built upon and cultivated the waste, and in process of time filled up the ditch. King Rufus was the next to add to its dignity by the erection of his handsome banqueting-hall, where he used to keep his Christmas in great style with his court and retainers. Then the Judges began to hold their sittings there, and finally the Parliaments, until, in the course of time, all these advantages made Westmin- ster the first city of the empire. A good story is related of James the First and one of the Lords Mayor, in reference to the prosperity of the twin cities, and which, for its happy quiet laudation of the Thames, it would be unpardonable to omit. James being in want of twenty thousand pounds, applied to the corporation of London for a loan of that sum. The corporation refused, upon which the King in high dudgeon sent for the Lord Mayor and some of the aldermen, and, rating them in severe terms for their disloyalty, insisted upon their raising the money for him. " Please your majesty," said the Lord Mayor, " we cannot lend you what we have not got." 58 WESTMINSTER ABBEY. " You must get it," replied the King. " We cannot," said the Lord Mayor. " I '11 compel you," rejoined the King. " But you cannot compel us," retorted the Lord Mayor. "No!" exclaimed the King ; " then I '11 ruin your city for ever. I '11 make a desert of West- minster. I '11 remove my courts of law, my parliament, and my court to York or to Ox- ford, and then what will become of you?" "Please your Majesty," rejoined the Lord Mayor, meekly, " you may remove yourself and your courts wherever you please; but there will always be this consolation for the poor merchants of London, you cannot take the Thames along with you." How shall we speak of the venerable Abbey ? A recent author says, in his admiration, that the fabric, or at least that part of it known as Henry the Seventh's Chapel, appears to have been put together " by the fingers of angels, under the immediate superintendence of Om- nipotence !" Without being so sublime, or so ridiculous, we must allow the beauty of the edifice, and be impressed with a solemn and religious veneration at the thought of the uses to which it has been applied, the great events of which it has been the witness, and the ashes of the illustrious dead which have mouldered WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 59 within its walls. Here are crowned the mo- narchs of England ; and here, all their pomp and power and vanity away, they moulder like their subjcts. Not to mention earlier monarchs, here, side by side, lie Elizabeth and Mary the oppressor and the oppressed, the destroyer and her victim. Here, a few feet apart, are the funeral mementos of Fox and Pitt. Here, by their graves, is the place of which Scott sings, in strains which would have immortalized his memory had he written nothing else : " Here, where the end of earthly things Lays heroes, patriots, bards, and kings ; Where stiff the hand and still the tongue Of those who fought and spoke and sung ; Here, where the fretted aisles prolong The distant notes of holy song, As if some angel spoke again ' All peace on earth, good will to meu,' If ever, from an English heart O here let prejudice depart. ***** Genius and Taste and Talent gone, For ever tomb'd beneath the stone, Where taming thought to human pride The mighty chiefs sleep side by side. Drop upon Fox's grave the tear, 'T will trickle to his rival's bier ; O'er Pitt's the mournful requiem sound, And Fox's shall the notes rebound. The solemn echo seems to cry ' Here let their discord with them die. 60 WESTMINSTER ABBEY. * Speak not for those a separate doom ' Whom Fate made brothers in the tomb ; ' But search the land of living men, Where wilt thou find their like again?'" Here also lie the ashes of many of the lights of song ; and here stand the monuments which a grateful and admiring posterity has erected to them, and to many more whose bones crum- ble in other earth, rendering the corner in which they are a holy spot, only to be entered with love and reverence. The most conspicu- ous are those of Shakspeare, Chaucer, Spenser, Ben Jonson, Milton, Butler, Addison, Prior, LAMBETH PALACE. 61 Dryden, Rowe, Gay, Thomson, West, Gold- smith, and Gray ; besides those of Handel and Garrick, who may also claim to rank among the poets ; the first, from the sisterhood of his art ; and the second, as being in soul a poet, or he could not have been a great actor. But we must leave Westminster and all its reminiscences behind us, for they are too many for our purpose, and would occupy as much space as we have to bestow upon the Thames itself, and continue our course upward to Vaux- hall Bridge. On the left, is the grey and vene- rable palace of Lambeth, the residence of the Archbishops of Canterbury almost ever since the Norman Conquest. How many recollec- tions are excited by the mention of this spot ! Here Wat Tyler vented his fury. Here were the Lollards imprisoned in the tower which still bears their name. Here the unfor- tunate Earl of Essex was imprisoned by Queen Elizabeth, before his final commitment to the Tower. Here also Archbishop Laud was attacked by the riotous London 'prentices, a short time before his execution. At this place also the bigots under Lord George Gor- don vented their insane fury. Close by the same spot, under the walls of St. Mary's Church, the unfortunate Mary D'Este remained 62 THE FLIGHT OF MARY D'ESTE. hidden, with her infant son, in the midst of the bitter storm of the 6th of December 1688, for a whole hour, awaiting a coach to convey her, a fugitive and an outcast, from the land where she had reigned as a queen ; an incident which gave occasion to the following ballad. THE FLIGHT OF MARY D'ESTE. Cold was the night, and dark the sky, And thick the rain did fall, When a lady waved her hand, and cried To a boatman at Whitehall,