CHAPTER IV.

THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF BILLINGSGATE, NEW COAL EXCHANGE, AND TOWER OF LONDON.

All doubts about the immense population of London would vanish from the mind of a stranger could he but stand on London Bridge Wharf, and see the vast multitudes that embark on the steamers, either at Easter or Whitsuntide, for Greenwich alone: he would behold such a sight as would convince him that no other city in the world could pour forth so many inhabitants; and all he had before seen would sink into insignificance beside what he would witness on the Thames, to say nothing of the numerous railways which throw out their iron arms into the country from almost every corner of the metropolis. It is a sight never to be forgotten, to see the steamers darting in and out amid the shipping below London Bridge, as if they had wills of their own, and could pick their way wherever there was space enough for them to pass, like aquatic birds that ever keep sailing around each other playfully upon the waters. Eastward, they hurry along to Woolwich, Erith, Gravesend, Sheerness, Herne Bay, Margate, and all the towns that dot our coast; while others move westward, under the bridges, and along the whole length of the river-front of London, on their way to Twickenham and Richmond: many of the smaller steamers also halting at almost every pretty village that stands on the banks of the Thames between London and Richmond. But we are wandering away from the neighbourhood we have now reached, and glancing at subjects which belong to the suburbs of the metropolis.

The church at the entrance of this wharf is called St. Magnus, and was rebuilt by Wren. Miles Coverdale, whose name is associated with the earliest printed version of the holy Bible, was rector of St. Magnus above 300 years ago. He was buried in the church of St. Bartholomew, by the Exchange; and when that building was taken down to enlarge the space for the new Royal Exchange, his remains were removed to the present church, and re-interred on the spot which he had hallowed by his pious labours. But few who look at the projecting clock, as they await the arrival or departure of the steamboats, are aware that the remains of Miles Coverdale, Bishop of Exeter, and one among the first translators of the Bible, rest so near the stir and traffic of that busy wharf.

The first turning on the opposite side of the way, behind the Monument, is Pudding-lane, in which the Great Fire that destroyed nearly the whole of the City first broke out. It now contains nothing worthy of our notice: the same may be said of Botolph lane, so called from the church which was destroyed in the Fire and never rebuilt.

On St. Mary's-hill stands a church partly built by Wren, and called St. Mary's-at-Hill. On the 29th of May 1533, according to Hall's _Chronicle_, "the mayor and his brethren, all in scarlet, such as were knights having collars of SS, and the remainder gold chains, and the council of the City with them, assembled at St. Mary's-hill, and at one o'clock took barge. The barges of the companies amounted in number to fifty, and set forth in the following order: First, at a good distance before the mayor's barge, was a foist or wafter, full of ordnance, having in the midst a dragon, continually moving and casting wild fire, and round about it terrible monsters and wild men casting fire and making hideous noises." This procession, that embarked at the foot of St. Mary's-hill, above 300 years ago, was "commanded" by Henry VIII. to go to Greenwich and bring Queen Anne Boleyn to London, to be crowned in Westminster Hall.

It is on record that the old ports or quays of Billingsgate and Queenhithe were the cause of as many squabbles in ancient days as were ever witnessed in our own times by any two rival companies struggling for pre-eminence; for when the customs derived from the latter furnished the queen of Henry III. with pin-money, a sharp look-out was kept on the river, and fines frequently inflicted on masters of vessels who landed their fish at Billingsgate instead of the royal quay. But great London soon burst through all these restraints: the old merchants were proof against even royal mandates; they objected to passing through the dangerous arches of the crazy old bridge--so at last obtained the privilege of landing goods at whichever quay they pleased.

Those ancient fishmongers must have been able to muster together a goodly company; for, hearing of the victory Edward I. had obtained over the Scots, they paraded the City with above a thousand horsemen, trumpets sounding and banners streaming, on which were emblazoned their quaint old arms, and followed by all the pride of their honourable guild.

What a stir there must have been about Fish-street and Fish-street-hill, and all along the line of those streets which we have already described, when that famous fishmonger Walworth, Lord Mayor of London, slew Wat Tyler in Smithfield, and thus at one blow cut off the "head and front" of the great rebellion! What a running to and fro and shaking of hands there must have been! What talking along the quays about privileges which would be extended to their own company, and which none other would be allowed to share! And what disappointment must have been depicted on their countenances when they found that all the reward the City was to receive was an addition to its arms! If true, it was like giving the chaff to him that had separated it from the wheat.

Those who were purveyors to the court had, in former times, the first pickings of the market; not a single fish was allowed to be sold until they had been served. We can picture the swagger with which the officers of the royal household entered the fish-market in those days, when a banquet was about to be given in the Tower. What pushing and cramming would there be to obtain a nod of recognition! now recommending the quality of some fish, then inquiring when the next execution would take place--their conversation shifting from salmon to the scaffold--from oysters, which, in those primitive times, sold for twopence a bushel, to the means of obtaining the best place when the next nobleman was to be beheaded.

There was a struggle for free-trade in those high narrow streets five hundred years ago: from Billingsgate to Queenhithe all was a scene of commotion; for the great fishmongers were aiming at monopoly, but the poor hawkers who picked up their living, as they do in our day, by crying fish in the streets, rose in a body, and so far carried the day that they were allowed to hawk fish, but not to keep a stall, nor stay in any of the streets a moment longer than while supplying their chance customers; for there was a strict police ever on the look-out after the poor hawkers, and the command of "Now then, move on there," is nothing new. Nor were the fishmongers themselves free from "most biting laws;" for they were only allowed, at one period, to take a penny profit in every shilling, not to offer the same fish for sale (as fresh) a second day, nor to water their fish more than twice a day. If they did, and were found out, there stood the stocks ever in readiness, and up went the beam, and in went their legs; and there they were compelled to sit out the given time, no doubt to the great merriment of many of the bystanders. Their stalls in these primitive times were only boards placed beside the pavement. From these they got to erecting little sheds, then shops and high houses. But the fronts of these were ordered to be left open, and the fish exposed. They would not allow sales to take place in dark and obscure spots; all must be done in the open noon of day, or heavy penalties be paid for offending against the laws.

In remote times, long before the Norman invasion, frequent mention is made of the English fisheries. To three plough-lands in Kent, a fishery on the Thames is added. Ethelstan gave a piece of land for the use of taking fish, and forty acres were given with fishing, on the condition of every year receiving fifty salmon. The rent of land was frequently paid in eels; and in Elphit's _Dialogues_, written for the instruction of the Saxon youths, we find that the implements used were nets, rods, lines, and baited hooks, which varied but little from those of the present time.

Those who have once reached the Monument, may "smell" their way to Billingsgate; for there is an old monastic odour about the shops, recalling Lent and stock-fish, and telling you that you are hemmed in with smoked haddock and salted herrings--which, when nothing else could be had, it must have been a heavy penance to have lived upon, and caused the poor sinner to have made many a wry face while devouring such dry and thirsty food. Once in Lower Thames-street, and you are in a land of danger. You come in contact with big men bending beneath bulky boxes; huge hogsheads swing high above you, and make you tremble as you look up, while treading the slippery pavement; and you know that if the crane-chain were to slip, or the hooks to which the ponderous packages are affixed to give way, you must be crushed like an egg which an elephant tramples upon; for danger ever dangles in the air about Billingsgate. The pavement is often blocked up by barrels of oranges and herrings, and hampers of dried sprats, the latter crammed together as close as white-bait in the stomach of an alderman when he has just dined at Lovegrove's. Sometimes the atmosphere is so impregnated with the smell of shrimps, that you almost fancy it has been raining shrimp sauce.

You are now, as it were, in the very manufactory, where fish are brought and emptied out to be sold; where there is no attempt at show; but, rough and shining as when they flapped about on the ocean sand, or were thrown from the first hand ashore, so do you see them here in the early morning, rough and fresh as potatoes just dug out of the mould. There is none of that clean blue twilight look which gleams and plays about the shops of the West-End fishmongers, and is sometimes enlivened by the sunny flash of the gold-fishes that float about the silver-looking globes, which give such a picturesque appearance to the shops in that more refined neighbourhood. Here all is of "the fish, fishy."

To this "rough and ready" market, those who wish to see how matters are managed must come early; for a minute or two before five o'clock the wholesale dealers are seated in their stalls, or recesses; while at the end of the market, nearest the river, the porters are drawn up in a row, each ready with his first load of fish, each standing within the allotted line, like hounds eager to spring from the leash. The clock strikes, and off they rush, helter skelter, every man Jack putting his best leg foremost, each eager to be the first to reach the stall of his employer. Slap goes the skate out of the baskets--they shoot out cod like coke, pitching the plaice wherever they can find room; and off they run for another load at the same rapid pace, nor cease until the salesman has received the whole of his stock.

Then the sale commences, the seller fixing his price, and the buyer offering what he considers to be the value; sometimes they "meet each other halfway," as it is called, one lowering and the other advancing. The fish are generally sold in lots without being weighed, and it requires good judgment on both sides to reach the right mark. Although there are so many salesmen, and generally such ample choice, the prices vary much, as fish brought from one part of the coast are often superior to what come from another.

But the fun of the market commences with the hawkers, when they come to see what has been left by the large retail dealers: then you may hear a little of what is called "Billingsgate;" though, instead of the old renowned blackguardism, it is generally most good-natured "chaff."

"Fresh do you call these?" says one, who finds the price too high for him. "Look how they rolls up the whites of their eyes, as if they vanted a little rain. I should say they hasn't had a blessed smell of water for this week past."

"Think I've been robbing somebody?" says another. "Vy, bless you, all the whole bilin' of my customers hasn't got so much amongst them as would buy the lot--no, not if they sold their toothpicks!"

Billingsgate is more like a wholesale warehouse than a fish-market, although you may purchase a single mackerel in it. The hundreds of carts which are drawn up in Thames-street, proclaim how far and wide the produce of river and ocean is dispersed. From the next street to the most remote suburb are the loads of fish borne, to be washed and laid out temptingly in the thousands of shops which abound in London and the surrounding suburbs. Nor is the supply limited to this circle; the rapid trains carry off tons of fish to the distant towns, where they arrive in time enough for dinner; thus sending

into the country the turbot and salmon as fresh as we receive it in the metropolis; for what are a hundred miles on the great railways?

Old Billingsgate is now pulled down; the muddy dock, where so many fishing-smacks have been harboured is filled up; and, instead of the old-fashioned market which illustrates this chapter, a pile is erected more befitting the greatest city in the world, and more like the noble edifice--the New Coal Exchange--that faces it.

Eels cannot be brought to Billingsgate in such perfection as they formerly were. We have now before us a Parliamentary report, given in above twenty years ago, complaining of the poisonous state of the Thames. The following evidence of Mr. Butcher, a fish-salesman, and agent for Dutch vessels, will be interesting at this moment, while the Thames is made the great sewer of London:

"Eight Dutch vessels arrived at Gravesend with full cargoes of healthy eels in July 1827, and the following is the state in which they reached the London market:

First 15,000 lbs. Reached market alive 4000 lbs. Second 14,000 " " " 4000 " Third 13,000 " " " 3000 " Fourth 14,000 " " " about 4000 "

And so on in proportion, but little more than a fourth of the cargo being marketed alive."

Mr. Butcher stated to the commissioners, that in 1815 (or twelve years before), "one of these vessels seldom lost more than thirty pounds weight of eels in a night in coming up the river; but that the water had become so bad, that as it flowed through the wells in the bottom of the vessels it poisoned the eels, and the quantity which died was more than three times the quantity marketed."

Another witness (James Newland, master of a vessel, and sixteen years in the trade,) says: "Eels have not lived in Thames water as they did formerly. First observed the difference five or six years ago (before 1827), and find it gets worse every summer. Other fish are also affected by bad water, and will endeavour to get out of it on pieces of floating wood."

Another witness says, "An hour after high water, eels will die in so short a time that I have had 3000 lbs. weight dead in half an hour."

"I have seen flounders," says Thomas Hatherill, "put up their heads above the water; and if there was a bundle of weeds in the river, they would get on it out of the water."

Mr. John Goldham, the yeoman of Billingsgate, deposed, that, "as clerk of the market, it was his business to ascertain the quality of fish, and seize and condemn that which was bad; that, twenty-five years ago (1802), above and below London-bridge, between Deptford and Richmond, 400 fishermen, each having a boy and a boat, gained their livelihood by fishing in the river; that he had known them take 3000 smelt and ten salmon at one haul; the Thames salmon were then the best, and frequently sold for 3_s._ or 4_s._ a pound; now the fishery is gone."

As early as 1307, the Earl of Lincoln complained before Parliament that the river of Wells (Walbrook, Clement's Well, Skinner's Well, Clerk's Well, Holy Well, &c.), running into the Thames, was obstructed by "filth of the tanners, and such others." On this complaint being made, the river was ordered to be cleansed.

Honest old Stowe says of the Thames in his day, "What should I speak of the fat and sweet salmons daily taken in this stream, and that in such plenty (after the time of smelt is past) as no river in Europe is able to exceed it. But what store also of barbels, trouts, chevens, perches, smelts, breams, roaches, daces, gudgeons, flounders, shrimps, eels, &c., are commonly to be had therein, I refer me to them that know by experience better than I, by reason of their daily trade of fishing in the same. And albeit it seemeth from time to time to be as it were defrauded in sundry wise of these her large commodities, by the insatiable avarice of fishermen, yet this famous river complaineth commonly of no want, but the more it loseth at one time it gaineth at another."

The immense traffic carried on in the winding Thames will never allow of its being stored with "fat sweet" fish as in Stowe's time; but still we hope the great changes which are in progress will at least turn this mighty common sewer into something more like the ancient "silver Thames" which our old poets sang about, and prevent so many dead and dying eels being baked up into pies, and devoured by the poor purchasers of these dangerous dainties, as there now are.

Mr. Simon's report to the City Commissioners of Sewers will, if we mistake not, do more towards arousing the inhabitants of London to agitate for pure air and sweet water, than any other remonstrance has hitherto done. It is clearly, ably, and powerfully drawn up; and done in such terse and simple language, that a child can understand it.

The following graphic description of the Babel of sounds heard at Billingsgate, is from Mayhew's _London Labour and the London Poor_, a work revealing more of the real life in London in the streets, courts, and alleys, than was ever before made known:

"All are bawling together--salesmen, and hucksters of provisions, capes, hardware, and newspapers--till the place is a perfect Babel of competition. 'Ha-a-ansome cod! best in the market! All alive! alive! alive O!' 'Ye-o-o! Ye-o-o! here's your fine Yarmouth bloaters! Who's the buyer?' 'Here you are, governor: splendid whiting! Some of the right sort!' 'Turbot! turbot! all alive, turbot!' 'Glass of nice peppermint this cold morning, a ha'penny a glass!' 'Here you are at your own price! Fine soles O!' 'Oy! oy! oy! Now's your time! fine grizzling sprats! all large and no small!' 'Hullo! hullo here! beautiful lobsters! good and cheap! fine cock crabs all alive O!' 'Five brill and one turbot--have that lot for a pound! come and look at 'em, governor; you won't see a better sample in the market.' 'Here, this way! this way for splendid skate! skate O! skate O!' 'Had-had-had-had-haddick! all fresh and good!' 'Currant and meat puddings! ha'penny each!' 'Now, you mussel-buyers, come along! come along! come along! now's your time for your fine fat mussels!' 'Here's food for the belly and clothes for the back, but I sell food for the mind' (shouts the newspaper vender). 'Here's smelt O!' 'Here ye are, fine Finney haddick!' 'Hot soup! nice pea-soup! a-all hot! hot!' 'Ahoy! ahoy here! live plaice! all alive O!' 'Now or never! whelk! whelk! whelk! whelk.' 'Who'll buy brill O! brill O!' 'Capes! waterproof capes! sure to keep the wet out! a shilling a-piece!' 'Eels O! eels O! Alive! alive O!' 'Fine flounders, a shilling a lot! Who'll buy this prime lot of flounders?' 'Shrimps! shrimps! fine shrimps!' 'Wink! wink! wink!' 'Hi! hi-i! here you are, just eight eels left, only eight!' 'O ho! O ho! this way--this way--this way! Fish alive! alive! alive O!'"

The fishmongers of ancient times were not "scaly" men, in the present acceptation of the phrase, when they were disposed to shew their loyalty. On one occasion, Stowe says, "On St. Magnus' day, * * * * the fishmongers, with solemn procession, paraded through the streets, having, among other pageants and shows, four sturgeons gilt, carried on four horses; and after, six and forty knights armed, riding on horses made like 'luces of the sea:' and then, St. Magnus, the patron saint of the day, with a thousand horsemen." These "luces" or pike, pleasantly recall Shakspeare and the armorial bearings of Justice Shallow.

Stepping across the street, we arrive at the Coal Exchange, opened by Prince Albert, at the close of 1849, at which period the following description of the building appeared in the _Illustrated London News_.

"The _façades_ of the building are of very simple, yet bold and effective design; and, with the exception of the cornice, but few projections are introduced. The fronts in Thames-street and St. Mary's-at-hill are respectively about 112 feet in width by 61 feet in height. The unequal form of the plot of ground on which the Exchange stands is skilfully masked at the corner by breaking the mass of building, and introducing a circular tower in the re-entering angle, within which is the entrance vestibule. This circular tower is 109 feet to the top of the gilded ball, and 22 feet in diameter at the lowest part, and is divided into three stories. The lowest story, containing the vestibule, is of the Roman-Doric style of architecture; and there is a striking peculiarity in the arrangement of this part, to which we must advert. The wall of the tower not only shrines the vestibule by which entrance to the hall or Rotunda is attained, but serves also as a centre to flights of steps, which lead, on either hand, to a landing on the first story of the building, and thence a spiral staircase is carried up in the tower to the other stories. The first story is of the Ionic order, carrying an entablature, and is lighted by windows. The top story, fifteen feet in diameter, is ornamented by pilasters, with windows between--the roof rising to a cone, and being crowned with a gilded ball. This is, to our view, the least successful portion of the edifice, the termination being stiff, and not so piquant as it should have been. We should mention, the exterior is of Portland stone.

"Entering the Rotunda, the attention of the visitor is immediately arrested by its beautiful effect and extremely novel arrangement. It forms a circle of some 60 feet in diameter, and is crowned with a dome, or, in fact, a double dome, as a lesser cupola rises from the eye of the great dome to the height of 74 feet from the floor. The dome rests on eight piers of light character; the space between each pier is divided by stancheons into three compartments; and there are three galleries, and from these entrance is obtained to the numerous offices of the building. The stancheons, galleries, ribs of dome, &c., are of iron; and, in fact, every part seems to be made of iron; and the arrangement of patterns in the stancheons, brackets of galleries, and soffits of galleries is original and good. There are about 300 tons of iron used in the building, in the several parts, each rib, of which there are thirty-two, weighing two tons. The ornament chiefly used is a cable, twisted about in various patterns; and the balustrade to the galleries is of loops of cable, at intervals broken by the introduction of the city arms. The framework to the offices is of wood, and panelled with rough plate-glass. By this means they receive light from the great dome of the hall. The dome itself is glazed with large pieces of roughened plate-glass of great thickness, the small upper dome having glass of a yellow tint. The chief public offices surrounding the Rotunda are those appropriated to the Corporation officers who have to collect the coal dues, and who are, we understand, appointed by the Corporation.

"The floor of the Rotunda is composed of inlaid woods, disposed in form of a mariner's compass, within a border of Greek fret. The flooring consists of upwards of 4000 pieces of wood, of various kinds. The varieties of wood employed comprise black ebony, black oak, common and red English oak, wainscott, white holly, mahogany, American elm, red and white walnut, and mulberry. The appearance of this floor is beautiful in the extreme. The whole of these materials were prepared by Messrs. Davison and Symington's patent process of seasoning woods. The same desiccating process has been applied to the woodwork throughout the building. The black oak introduced is part of an old tree which was discovered in the bed of the river Tyne, where it had unquestionably lain between four and five centuries. The mulberry wood of which the blade of the dagger in the shield of the city arms is composed, is a piece of a tree planted by Peter the Great, when he worked as a shipwright in Deptford Dockyard.

"The coloured decorations of this Exchange have been most admirably imagined and successfully carried out. They are extremely characteristic, and on this point deserve praise. The entrance vestibule is peculiarly rich and picturesque in its embellishments: terminal figures, vases with fruit, arabesque foliage, &c., all of the richest and most glowing colours, fill up the vault of the ceiling; and looking up through an opening in the ceiling, a figure of Plenty scattering riches, and surrounded _figurini_, is seen painted in the ceiling of the lantern. Over the entrance doorway, within a sunk panel, is painted the city arms. Within the Rotunda, the polychromic decorations immediately arrest the eye. The range of panels at the base of the dome, and the piers which carry the dome, are all fully and harmoniously decorated. We shall commence our description with the piers in the lowest story: the Raffaelesque decorations are very rich in character; and in each pier the scroll supports and encircles four compartments; the lowest are simicircular panels, within which are painted symbolic figures of the principal coal-bearing rivers of England: the Thames, the Mersey, the Severn, the Trent, the Humber, the Ayre, the Tyne, &c. Small oblong panels, with marine subjects, are a little above the symbolic figures just described; and above them, within borders of flowers of every kind, are figures symbolical of Wisdom, Fortitude, Vigilance, Temperance, Perseverance, Watchfulness, Justice, and Faith. These figures are the most prominent objects in the decorations of the piers in the lowest story; and in circles above them are painted groups of shells; whilst at the top, in semicircles corresponding with those at the base of the piers, snakes, lizards, and other reptiles, are introduced. In the first story the leading feature in the arabesques is a series of views of coal-mines, including the air-shaft at Wallsend, Percy Pit Main Colliery, Wallsend Colliery, Regent's Pit Colliery, &c. Groups of fruit and flowers are in small circles just above the views, and in oblong panels beneath the latter the series of nautical 'bits' is continued. At the base, in each pilaster, are representations of different specimens of _Sigilaria_--a fossil found in coal formations. In the second story the largest panels contain figures of miners at different portions of their avocations; whilst nautical subjects, clusters and flowers, are introduced amongst the arabesques.

"The third story contains, within oval panels, miners at work picking the coal, &c.: flowers and small landscapes add to the richness and variety of the decorations on this floor; and both in this and the lower, calamites (fossils from the coal formations) are depicted in the arabesques. The twenty-four panels at the springing of the dome, of which we have before spoken, have oval compartments painted in them, surrounded by a gracefully-flowing border of extremely rich and varied design, being light ornaments on a dark ground. The spaces within the oval borders are coloured of a turquoise blue tint, on which is painted a series of representations of different fossil plants met with in the coal formations. This portion of the decoration is extremely striking and appropriate; and we need scarcely say, the representations of the plants are strictly correct.

"Ere we leave the pictorial portion of the Exchange, we must not forget the groups of mining implements, most skilfully treated, in the narrow panels in the dome over the piers.

"The whole of the artistic embellishments of the building were designed by Mr. Sang, whose taste and skill in such works is well known, and executed under his immediate directions; and it may be considered a most successful specimen of the Raffaelesque style of ornamentation, now so extensively adopted in the mansions of the nobility.

"For originality of design, this building is the most striking which has been erected in London for a long time past, and reflects the very highest credit on the talented architect, J. B. Bunning, Esq.

"Mr. William Trego was the builder; and the iron-work was executed by Messrs. Dewer of Old-street."

While digging for the foundation of the Coal Exchange, a Roman hypocaust was brought to light, which has since been arched over and preserved--another addition to the many Roman remains which have been discovered in the neighbourhood of Upper and Lower Thames-street.

Before quitting this part of the neighbourhood, we must state that the Custom-House stands close by the places we have just described; and as this is the last object in Lower Thames-street that requires notice, we will briefly glance at it, and then ascend to the higher streets.

The following mention is made of the Custom-House in a large volume now before us, consisting of upwards of 1200 pages, and entitled, _The Historie of the Life and Reigne of that famous Princesse Elizabeth_; printed at Oxford, 1634: "About this time [1590] the commodity of the Custom-House amounted to an unexpected value; for the queen being made acquainted by the means of a subtle fellow, named Caermardine, with the mystery of their gains, so enhanced the rate, that Sir Thomas Smith, master of the Custom-House, who heretofore farmed it of the queen for 14,000_l._ yearly, was now 'mounted' [raised] to 42,000_l._, and afterwards to 50,000_l._, which, notwithstanding, was valued but as an ordinary sum for such oppressing [extortionate?] gaine. The Lord Treasurer [Cecil?], the Earls of Leicester and Walsingham, much opposed themselves against this Caermardine, denying him entrance into the Privy Chamber, insomuch that, expostulating with the queen, they traduced her [for] harkening to such a fellow's information, to the disparagement of the judgment of her council, and the discredit of their case." [A little "palm-oil," we guess, did this, in the shape of a free distribution of rose-nobles on the part of Sir Thomas Smith. Bribery, bribery! But look at the reply of that real John Bull-like old queen.] "But the queen answered them, that all princes ought to be, if not as favourable, yet as just, to the lowest as to the highest, desiring that they who falsely accuse her Privy Council of sloth or indiscretion should be severely punished; but [that?] they who _justly accused them_ should be heard." [Glorious Queen Bess!] "That she was queen as well to the poorest as to the proudest, and that therefore she would never be deaf to their just complaints. Likewise [further?], that she would not suffer that these _toll-takers_, like _horse-leeches_, should glut themselves with the riches of the realm, and starve her exchequer; which, as she will not bear it to be 'docked'(?), so hateth she to enrich it with the poverty of the people." (Page 31, second part, or volume, translated out of the French by Abraham Darcie. Initials of the original author, P. D. B., who knew Cecil intimately, had access to the original letters, and was present at the trial of Mary Queen of Scots.) The first book or volume is dedicated to King James I. I have been thus particular in describing this old volume, as it contains matter relating to London in the time of Elizabeth which I have not found in any other history.

The "Long Room" of the Custom-House is worthy of its name, as it measures 190 feet, with a breadth of 66 feet, and there is not a pleasanter place for viewing the traffic on the Thames below London Bridge than the parade of the Custom-House quay. The present building has been erected but little more than thirty years. The revenue now derived from customs is near twenty millions a year.

On St. Dunstan's-hill stands the church dedicated to the old Saxon saint whose name it bears. This church partly escaped the Fire, and was restored by Wren. The beautiful tower is all that remains of this great architect's work, the body of the church being rebuilt from the plans of Mr. Laing, to whom we are indebted for the present Custom-House. Speaking of this church, Mr. Elmes tells us, on the faith of an anonymous correspondent, "When Sir Christopher Wren made first attempt of building a steeple upon quadrangular columns, he was convinced of the truth of his architectural principle; but, as he had never before acted upon it, and as a failure would have been fatal to his reputation, and awful in its consequences to the neighbourhood of the edifice, he naturally felt intense anxiety, when the superstructure was completed, in the removal of the supporters. The surrounding people shared largely in the solicitude. Sir Christopher himself went to London Bridge, and watched the proceedings through a lens. The ascent of a rocket proclaimed the stability of the steeple; and Sir Christopher would afterwards smile that he ever could, even for a moment, have doubted the truth of his mathematics." While giving the anecdote, Mr. Elmes doubts the truth of it. The eastern window is said to be a copy of the one which formerly adorned the old church.

Stowe, in his _Chronicle_, describes a quarrel which took place in this church as follows: "In the year 1417, and on the afternoon of Easter Sunday, a violent quarrel took place in this church, between the ladies of the Lord Strange and Sir John Trussel, Knt., which involved the husbands, and at length terminated in a general contest. Several persons were seriously wounded, and an unlucky fishmonger, named Thomas Petwarden, killed. The two great men who chose a church for their field of battle were seized and committed to the Poultry Compter, and the Archbishop of Canterbury excommunicated them. On the 21st of April, that prelate heard the particulars at St. Magnus Church; and finding Lord Strange and his lady the aggressors, he cited them to appear before him, the Lord Mayor, and others, on the 1st of May, at St. Paul's, and there submit to penance, which was inflicted by compelling all their servants to march before the rector of St. Dunstan's in their shirts, followed by the lord bareheaded, and the lady barefooted [rather too hard on the lady], and Kentwode, Archdeacon of London, to the church of St. Dunstan, where, at the hallowing of it, Lady Strange was compelled to fill all the sacred vessels with water, and offer an ornament, value 10_l._, and her husband a piece of silver, worth 5_l._"

Leaving Eastcheap, with its Shakspearean Boar's Head (long ago destroyed), and Great Tower-street, memorable for the carousals of Peter the Great, we come to Mincing-lane, where stands Clothworkers' Hall, a company to which Pepys belonged, and which still possesses the "loving cup" he presented to the Clothworkers.

King James I. was a member of this company; and the following extract from Nichol's _Progresses_ furnishes us with the speech he made on the day he enrolled himself among the Clothworkers: "Now, I drink unto all my good brethren, the clothworkers; and I pray God to bless them all, and all good clothworkers; and for proof of our especial favour to this fraternity, and for their increase of mutual amity, I do here give unto this company two brace of bucks yearly, for ever, against the time of the election of the master and wardens of this society." This was on the 12th of June, 1607, after the king had privately dined "at the house of Sir John Watts, then lord mayor."

In Mark-lane we find the great Corn Exchange (lately damaged by fire). About three centuries ago, the corn-market was held at Queenhithe, although the oldest place for the sale of corn was Cornhill, a market having been held there, according to Stowe, "time out of mind."

In Knight's _London_, vol. iii. p. 364, we find the following curious remarks on this great metropolitan corn-market: "The market-days are Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, the first being by far the busiest day of the three; and the hours of business are from ten to three. A bargain does not become valid until an hour after the commencement of business on the next market-day. The general commercial reader will perhaps be interested in knowing that wheat is paid for in bills at one month, and all other descriptions of corn and grain in bills of two months. But the Kentish 'hoymen,' who may be distinguished by their sailors' jackets, are privileged, by the custom of the market, to sell for ready money, though, of course, they sell only what they bring up themselves. They have stands free of expense, and pay less for metage and dues than others. The Essex dealers also enjoy some privileges. Their origin, in both cases, is said to have been in consideration of the men of Kent and Essex having continued to supply the City at a time when it was ravaged by the plague."

In Mark-lane stands the church of Allhallows Staining, which escaped the Fire, though the tower is all that remains of the ancient edifice. Here it is said Queen Elizabeth went to return thanks after her release from the Tower; and when the service was over, she adjourned to the adjoining tavern, the King's-head, in Fenchurch-street, where she dined off the unladylike luxuries of pork and peas, in memory of which event the dish and cover are still preserved. In the parish-books of Allhallows are the following entries relating to old ecclesiastical holidays: "Paid unto Goodman Chese, broiderer, for making a new mitre for the Bishop, against St. Nicholas's night, 2_s._ 8_d._;" and again, "Paid for the hiring of a pair of wings and a crest for an angel on Palm Sunday, 8_d._" Merry doings were there in the olden time at church-ales and Easter-tide, and many another ancient holiday which now lives but in name.

At the corner of Seething-lane stands the church of Allhallows Barking. In this lane died Sir Francis Walsingham, who in Elizabeth's time planted so many spies around the unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots. Here also lived Pepys, adjoining the old Navy-office. He makes frequent mention of Seething-lane in his _Diary_. The church of Allhallows Barking very nearly marks the site of the termination of the Great Fire eastward; for though the church itself escaped destruction, its walls were licked by the flames and the porch destroyed. A glance at the map of London will shew its proximity to the Tower, and readily suggest that many a headless victim was removed from the scaffold to the grave in the old churchyard of Allhallows. The Earl of Surrey, who was beheaded in 1547, was buried here; also Bishop Fisher, beheaded in 1535, though his body was afterwards removed; so were the remains of Archbishop Laud. The first chapel founded on the site of the present church dates as far back as the time of Richard I.; and there is an old tradition that the heart of the king of the Crusaders was buried under the altar of that church. Here Edward I. set up an image of the Virgin Mary, which almost became as famous as the shrine of Thomas à Becket, so many were the pilgrims who visited it. Our engraving represents a silver-gilt shrine, in which, in ancient times, the relics of saints were deposited.

Richard III. (it may be, to make amends for the murders he caused to be committed in the adjacent Tower) rebuilt this church, and founded within it a college of priests. Even now it bears proofs of its great antiquity, in its massive and stunted Norman pillars, old inscriptions, ancient monuments, and early brasses, one of the latter dating back nearly four centuries. There is a story about an explosion of gunpowder, which destroyed twenty or thirty houses, and in which a cradle, "baby and all," was blown on the leads of this church, and there found uninjured.

Seething-lane runs into Hart-street, Crutched Friars, and Jewry-street, Aldgate. In Hart-street stands the church of St. Olave, so often mentioned by Pepys. It escaped the Fire, and contains a few tablets well worth visiting. Some portion of the interior appears to be very ancient, though I am not able to assign any date to these remains, nor when the first church was built. Here Pepys and his wife (the "poor wretch" of his _Diary_) are buried. The chapel in which the Crutched Friars dwelt was, in Stowe's time, demolished, and its site occupied by a tennis-court and other buildings.

On the right-hand side of Leadenhall-street stand the East India House and Leadenhall Market, the latter of which need only be mentioned as celebrated for its poultry and game. Stowe says, in his day it was used for "the making and resting of pageants shewed at Midsummer, in the watch; * * * * the lofts above were partly used by the painters in working for the decking of pageants, and other devices for the beautifying of the watch and watchmen." Those who visit Leadenhall Market in Christmas-week will form some idea of the supply needed for the two-million mouthed metropolis.

The East India House was built but little more than half a century ago, though it contains portions of the older edifice, erected in 1726. The present building is about 200 feet in length, and wears somewhat of a princely look in its pillared portico and sculptured pediment, over the centre of which Britannia is placed, while figures representing Asia and Europe stand on each side of her. The ground-floor contains committee and other rooms, in which the directors and proprietors transact business.

The handsomest saloon in the East India House is occupied by the Court of Directors, and is usually termed the Court-room: it is said to be an exact cube of 30 feet; it is superbly gilt, and embellished with large looking-glasses; the effect of its too great height being much diminished by the position of the windows near the ceiling. From the cornice hangs six pictures, representing the three presidencies--the Cape, St. Helena, and Tellichery. Over the chimney is a fine piece of sculpture in white marble, representing Britannia seated on a globe by the sea-shore, receiving homage from three female figures--Asia, Africa, and India. Asia offers spices with her right hand, and with her left leads a camel; India presents a box of jewels; and Africa rests her hand upon the head of a lion. The Thames, as a river-god, stands upon the shore; a labourer is cording a bale of merchandise, and ships are sailing in the distance. The whole is supported by two caryatid figures, intended for Brahmins.

In another room there are six statues of Clive, Hastings, Cornwallis, Coote, Lawrence, and Pococke--all men who won for themselves distinguished names in India.

The upper part of the house, besides offices, contains the library and museum: the latter is open on Saturdays from eleven to three; and with the exception of the Tower, we know of no place where four hours can be more agreeably and profitably spent in the City, than in examining this rare collection. Here we see beautiful specimens of every description--Goorkha swords, Sumatra shields, and Lahore gauntlets. In another compartment we find models of Oriental manufactures: objects of natural history are also there--animals, birds, insects, and shells of the richest colours.

Here also is Tippoo Sultan's tiger. "It is a curious piece of mechanism, displaying both the ingenuity and barbarism of the artist who produced it, no less than the ferocity of nature which could induce a prince to esteem it as a favourite toy. By turning a crank, like the handle of an organ, sounds are emitted resembling the shrieks of a man in the jaws of a tiger, while ever and anon a deeper tone is heard, intended to represent the roar of the animal."

We find here Tippoo's howdah, or elephant seat, together with his quilted corslet. The seat is of silver, and the bird forming the canopy is of the same material, while the eyes are said to be of precious stones. The padded shirt is said to have belonged to Tippoo Sultan; also the corslet, which is lined with blue diaper.

There are Hindoo idols of gold and silver, marble and wood, remnants of shrines and inscriptions, the very letters of which "would have made Quintilian stare and gasp."

The Chinese curiosities are well worth examining, especially the materials for engraving, writing, and printing; nor ought the mariner's compass to be overlooked, for we must remember that this strange nation have some claim to the invention of our "ocean guide," though rude, perhaps, the first form may have been, and its bearings but little understood.

From the _Illustrated London News_, we give the following description of the paintings found in the Ajunta Caves, in India, copies of which have lately been added to the Museum of the East India Company:--"These paintings were found upon the interior walls and roofs of a series of temples, excavated out of the solid rock, situated near the Ajunta Pass, where the road from central Hindostan ascends the mural heights supporting the table-land of the Dekkan. The town of Ajunta is about 200 miles north-east from Bombay; and in a ravine amongst the hills, some four or five miles distant, occur the caves. According to Mr. Fergusson, in his 'Memoir on the rock-cut Temples of India,' published in the 'Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society,' the entrance to the ravine is nearly half a mile in width; but the ravine becomes narrower as the traveller winds up it, until it terminates in a cascade of seven falls, or leaps: the lowest is about 100 feet high, the others about 100 feet higher. Immediately below the fall the

ravine makes a sharp turn to the right, and it is in the perpendicular cliff forming the outer side of the bend, and facing the fall, that the caves are situated; the whole series extending about 500 yards from north to south-east. There are in this space twenty-seven caves, which are accessible by a sort of ledge or terrace of the cliff; but this has given way at the southern extremity, and left the face of the cliff perpendicular, to the height of about 300 feet. The general appearance of the ravine and of some of the excavations is given in our engraving, reduced from the original plate, forming part of Mr. Fergusson's interesting illustrations of these and other Rock Temples delineated by him in India.

"The Ajunta Caves are richly decorated with sculptured porticoes and columns; but their peculiar feature is the embellishment of their roofs and walls with paintings, which it is not yet determined to call frescoes. They have suffered much from time and neglect; and to counteract, in some measure, the further depredations of both, the Court of Directors have instructed their local governments to take measures for their careful delineation. An officer of the Madras Establishment, Captain Gill, made copies of them, and sent home those now at the India House. In one we have on the left a number of warriors apparently setting out on an expedition. The chief, indicated by the umbrella, is taking leave of his princess, whilst a group of women on the right are also bidding them farewell. The men are characterised by the intertwining of the hair with the cloth of the turban, a costume now chiefly met with amongst the Burmas. It is doubtful if it is to be found on the continent of India. There is nothing to denote the religion of the persons represented; but in another painting a group very similar are offering their adoration to a Chaitya or Buddhist monument, which is conclusive as to their professing the Buddhist faith.

"In another section we have various groups, which belong to the interior of the palace. The chief in one place is seated, in another standing, and in both attitudes is evidently communicating orders or instructions. This is probably a representation of Sakyasinha or Buddha, who admitted females to become his disciples, and was allowed free access to the female apartments. The privilege here is not confined to him, for in two places are men bringing presents carried upon a pole, with slings, as they are at the present day. In the right-hand corner we have what seems to be a garden; in the left a group of elephants very accurately represented--one appears to have triple tusks; a seated female in front appears to hold a book.

"The third picture represents a very different series of figures from either of the two preceding, and evidently belongs to the Saiva branch of Brahminism. The much-defaced head in the centre, with a rich crown, ornamented amongst other things with crosses, is a not uncommon representation of Siva; and in the right compartment we have the same divinity attended by some of his hideous train of goblins. In one place, on the left, of two smaller figures the male is playing a flute. The figures appear to be partly in the clouds, partly in edifices and in gardens--perhaps the city of the God of Wealth upon the celestial mountain Kailas is intended.

"The indications of Buddhism are, however, the prevailing subjects of the paintings, although some of them are Saiva. Fragments of inscriptions are found on two of them, which, although too imperfect to be capable of translation, are valuable as guides to the age of the paintings. The characters in which they are written went out of use about the third century of our era, and the paintings in which they occur must, consequently, be of prior date. They were painted, probably, about the beginning of the Christian era."

Trinity-square, Tower-hill, in which stands Trinity House, is the last object of any importance that claims notice in our present chapter. At what period Trinity House was established is not, for certainty, known, though it is believed to have been founded by Henry VIII., about the time that he formed the Navy-Office. Like all other jurisdictions, it gathered power gradually, through a long range of time, being at first limited in its privileges and circumscribed in its limits, until Elizabeth made the Company guardians of our sea-marks. Trinity House now has the sole management of the light-houses and buoys, and its operations may often be seen by a reference to the first page of the _Times_, where it announces new marks laid down by wrecks, and different changes made in beacons, "those watchmen of the sea."