Old and New London Part 37

Domingo, or grave Maurice to hold out Breda. Tom Coryatt, or such weak-pated travellers, would babble of the Rialto and Prester John, and exhibit specimens of unicorns' horns or palm-leaves from the river Nilus. The courtier talked of the fair lady who gave him the glove which he wore in his hat as a favour; the poet of the last satire of Marston or Ben Jonson, or volunteered to read a trifle thrown off of late by 'Faith, a learned gentleman, a very worthy friend,' though if we were to enquire, this varlet poet might turn out, after all, to be the mere decoy duck of the hostess, paid to draw gulls and fools thither. The mere dullard sat silent, playing with his glove or discussing at what apothecary's the best tobacco was to be bought.

[Ill.u.s.tration: DOLLY'S COFFEE-HOUSE (_see page 278_).]

"The dishes seemed to have been served up at these hot luncheons or early dinners in much the same order as at the present day--meat, poultry, game, and pastry. 'To be at your woodc.o.c.ks' implied that you had nearly finished dinner. The more unabashable, rapid adventurer, though but a beggarly captain, would often attack the capon while his neighbour, the knight, was still enc.u.mbered with his stewed beef; and when the justice of the peace opposite, who has just pledged him in sack, is knuckle-deep in the goose, he falls stoutly on the long-billed game; while at supper, if one of the college of critics, our gallant praised the last play or put his approving stamp upon the new poem.

"Primero and a 'pair' of cards followed the wine. Here the practised player learnt to lose with endurance, and neither to tear the cards nor crush the dice with his heel. Perhaps the jest may be true, and that men sometimes played till they sold even their beards to cram tennis-b.a.l.l.s or stuff cushions. The patron often paid for the wine or disbursed for the whole dinner. Then the drawer came round with his wooden knife, and sc.r.a.ped off the crusts and crumbs, or cleared off the parings of fruit and cheese into his basket. The torn cards were thrown into the fire, the guests rose, rapiers were re-hung, and belts buckled on. The post news was heard, and the reckonings paid. The French lackey and Irish footboy led out the hobby horses, and some rode off to the play, others to the river-stairs to take a pair of oars to the Surrey side."

The "Castle," where Tarleton has so often talked of Shakespeare and his wit, perished in the Great Fire; but was afterwards rebuilt, and here "The Castle Society of Music" gave their performances, no doubt aided by many of the St. Paul's Choir. Part of the old premises were subsequently (says Mr. Timbs) the Oxford Bible Warehouse, destroyed by fire in 1822, and since rebuilt. "Dolly's Tavern," which stood near the "Castle,"

derived its name from Dolly, an old cook of the establishment, whose portrait Gainsborough painted. Bonnell Thornton mentions the beefsteaks and gill ale at "Dolly's." The coffee-room, with its projecting fire-places, is as old as Queen Anne. The head of that queen is painted on a window at "Dolly's," and the entrance in Queen's Head Pa.s.sage is christened from this painting.

The old taverns of London are to be found in the strangest nooks and corners, hiding away behind shops, or secreting themselves up alleys.

Unlike the Paris _cafe_, which delights in the free sunshine of the boulevard, and displays its harmless revellers to the pa.s.sers-by, the London tavern aims at cosiness, quiet, and privacy. It part.i.tions and curtains-off its guests as if they were conspirators and the wine they drank was forbidden by the law. Of such taverns the "Chapter" is a good example.

The "Chapter Coffee House," at the corner of Chapter House Court, was in the last century famous for its punch, its pamphlets, and its newspapers. As lawyers and authors frequented the Fleet Street taverns, so booksellers haunted the "Chapter." Bonnell Thornton, in the _Connoisseur_, Jan., 1754, says:--"The conversation here naturally turns upon the newest publications, but their criticisms are somewhat singular. When they say a _good_ book they do not mean to praise the style or sentiment, but the quick and extensive sale of it. That book is best which sells most."

In 1770 Chatterton, in one of those apparently hopeful letters he wrote home while in reality his proud heart was breaking, says:--"I am quite familiar at the 'Chapter Coffee House,' and know all the geniuses there." He desires a friend to send him whatever he has published, to be left at the "Chapter." So, again, writing from the King's Bench, he says a gentleman whom he met at the "Chapter" had promised to introduce him as a travelling tutor to the young Duke of Northumberland; "but, alas! I spoke no tongue but my own."

Perhaps that very day Chatterton came, half starved, and listened with eager ears to great authors talking. Oliver Goldsmith dined there, with Lloyd, that reckless friend of still more reckless Churchill, and some Grub Street cronies, and had to pay for the lot, Lloyd having quite forgotten the important fact that he was moneyless. Goldsmith's favourite seat at the "Chapter" became a seat of honour, and was pointed out to visitors. Leather tokens of the coffee-house are still in existence.

Mrs. Gaskell has sketched the "Chapter" in 1848, with its low heavy-beamed ceilings, wainscoted rooms, and its broad, dark, shallow staircase. She describes it as formerly frequented by university men, country clergymen, and country booksellers, who, friendless in London, liked to hear the literary chat. Few persons slept there, and in a long, low, dingy room upstairs the periodical meetings of the trade were held.

"The high, narrow windows looked into the gloomy Row." Nothing of motion or of change could be seen in the grim, dark houses opposite, so near and close, although the whole width of the Row was between. The mighty roar of London ran round like the sound of an unseen ocean, yet every footfall on the pavement below might be heard distinctly in that unfrequented street.

The frequenters of the "Chapter Coffee House" (1797-1805) have been carefully described by Sir Richard Phillips. Alexander Stevens, editor of the "Annual Biography and Obituary," was one of the choice spirits who met nightly in the "Wittinagemot," as it was called, or the north-east corner box in the coffee-room. The neighbours, who dropped in directly the morning papers arrived, and before they were dried by the waiter, were called the Wet Paper Club, and another set intercepted the wet evening papers. Dr. Buchan, author of that murderous book, "Domestic Medicine," which teaches a man how to kill himself and family cheaply, generally acted as moderator. He was a handsome, white-haired man, a Tory, a good-humoured companion, and a _bon vivant_. If any one began to complain, or appear hypochondriacal, he used to say--

"Now let me prescribe for you, without a fee. Here, John, bring a gla.s.s of punch for Mr. ----, unless he likes brandy and water better. Now, take that, sir, and I'll warrant you'll soon be well. You're a peg too low; you want stimulus; and if one gla.s.s won't do, call for a second."

Dr. Gower, the urbane and able physician of the Middles.e.x Hospital, was another frequent visitor, as also that great eater and worker, Dr.

Fordyce, whose balance no potations could disturb. Fordyce had fashionable practice, and brought rare news and much sound information on general subjects. He came to the "Chapter" from his wine, stayed about an hour, and sipped a gla.s.s of brandy and water. He then took another gla.s.s at the "London Coffee House," and a third at the "Oxford,"

then wound home to his house in Ess.e.x Street, Strand. The three doctors seldom agreed on medical subjects, and laughed loudly at each other's theories. They all, however, agreed in regarding the "Chapter" punch as an infallible and safe remedy for all ills.

The standing men in the box were Hammond and Murray. Hammond, a Coventry manufacturer, had scarcely missed an evening at the "Chapter" for forty-five years. His strictures on the events of the day were thought severe but able, and as a friend of liberty he had argued all through the times of Wilkes and the French and American wars. His Socratic arguments were very amusing. Mr. Murray, the great referee of the Wittinagemot, was a Scotch minister, who generally sat at the "Chapter"

reading papers from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. He was known to have read straight through every morning and evening paper published in London for thirty years. His memory was so good that he was always appealed to for dates and matters of fact, but his mind was not remarkable for general lucidity. Other friends of Stevens's were Dr. Birdmore, the Master of the Charterhouse, who abounded in anecdote; Walker, the rhetorician and dictionary-maker, a most intelligent man, with a fine enunciation, and Dr. Towers, a political writer, who over his half-pint of Lisbon grew sarcastic and lively. Also a grumbling man named Dobson, who between asthmatic paroxysms vented his spleen on all sides. Dobson was an author and paradox-monger, but so devoid of principle that he was deserted by all his friends, and would have died from want, if Dr. Garthsh.o.r.e had not placed him as a patient in an empty fever hospital. Robinson, "the king of booksellers," and his sensible brother John were also frequenters of the "Chapter," as well as Joseph Johnson, the friend of Priestley, Paine, Cowper, and Fuseli, from St. Paul's Churchyard.

Phillips, the speculative bookseller, then commencing his _Monthly Magazine_, came to the "Chapter" to look out for recruits, and with his pockets well lined with guineas to enlist them. He used to describe all the odd characters at this coffee-house, from the glutton in politics, who waited at daylight for the morning papers, to the moping and disconsolate bachelor, who sat till the fire was raked out by the sleepy waiter at half-past twelve at night. These strange figures succeeded each other regularly, like the figures in a magic lantern.

Alexander Chalmers, editor of many works, enlivened the Wittinagemot by many sallies of wit and humour. He took great pains not to be mistaken for a namesake of his, who, he used to say, carried "the leaden mace."

Other _habitues_ were the two Parrys, of the _Courier_ and _Jacobite_ papers, and Captain Skinner, a man of elegant manners, who represented England in the absurd procession of all nations, devised by that German revolutionary fanatic, Anacharsis Clootz, in Paris in 1793. Baker, an ex-Spitalfields manufacturer, a great talker and eater, joined the coterie regularly, till he shot himself at his lodgings in Kirby Street.

It was discovered that his only meal in the day had been the nightly supper at the "Chapter," at the fixed price of a shilling, with a supplementary pint of porter. When the shilling could no longer be found for the supper, he killed himself.

Among other members of these pleasant coteries were Lowndes, the electrician; Dr. Busby, the musician; Cooke, the well-bred writer of conversation; and Macfarlane, the author of "The History of George III.," who was eventually killed by a blow from the pole of a coach during an election procession of Sir Francis Burdett at Brentford.

Another celebrity was a young man named Wilson, called Langton, from his stories of the _haut ton_. He ran up a score of 40, and then disappeared, to the vexation of Mrs. Brown, the landlady, who would willingly have welcomed him, even though he never paid, as a means of amusing and detaining customers. Waithman, the Common Councilman, was always clear-headed and agreeable. There was also Mr. Paterson, a long-headed, speculative North Briton, who had taught Pitt mathematics.

But such coteries are like empires; they have their rise and their fall.

Dr. Buchan died; some pert young sparks offended the Nestor, Hammond, who gave up the place, after forty-five years' attendance, and before 1820 the "Chapter" grew silent and dull.

The fourth edition of Dr. ----ell's "Antient and Modern Geography," says Nicholls, was published by an a.s.sociation of respectable booksellers, who about the year 1719 entered into an especial partnership, for the purpose of printing some expensive works, and styled themselves "the Printing Conger." The term "Conger" was supposed to have been at first applied to them invidiously, alluding to the conger eel, which is said to swallow the smaller fry; or it may possibly have been taken from _congeries_. The "Conger" met at the "Chapter."

The "Chapter" closed as a coffee-house in 1854, and was altered into a tavern.

One tragic memory, and one alone, as far as we know, attaches to Paternoster Row. It was here, in the reign of James I., that Mrs. Anne Turner lived, at whose house the poisoning of Sir Thomas Overbury was planned. It was here that Viscount Rochester met the infamous Countess of Ess.e.x; and it was Overbury's violent opposition to this shameful intrigue that led to his death from a.r.s.enic and diamond-dust, administered in the Tower by Weston, a servant of Mrs. Turner's, who received 180 for his trouble. Rochester and the Countess were disgraced, but their lives were spared. The Earl of Northampton, an accomplice of the countess, died before Overbury succ.u.mbed to his three months of torture.

"Mrs. Turner," says Sir Simonds d'Ewes, had "first brought up that vain and foolish use of yellow starch, coming herself to her trial in a yellow band and cuffs; and therefore, when she was afterwards executed at Tyburn, the hangman had his band and cuffs of the same colour, which made many after that day, of either s.e.x, to forbear the use of that coloured starch, till at last it grew generally to be detested and disused."

In a curious old print of West Chepe, date 1585, in the vestry-room of St. Vedast's, Foster Lane, we see St. Michael's, on the north side of Paternoster Row. It is a plain dull building, with a low square tower and pointed-headed windows. It was chiefly remarkable as the burial-place of that indefatigable antiquary, John Leland. This laborious man, educated at St. Paul's School, was one of the earliest Greek scholars in England, and one of the deepest students of Welsh and Saxon. Henry VIII. made him one of his chaplains, bestowed on him several benefices, and gave him a roving commission to visit the ruins of England and Wales and inspect the records of collegiate and cathedral libraries. He spent six years in this search, and collected a vast ma.s.s of material, then retired to his house in the parish of St.

Michael-le-Quern to note and arrange his treasures. His mind, however, broke down under the load: he became insane, and died in that dreadful darkness of the soul, 1552. His great work, "The Itinerary of Great Britain," was not published till after his death. His large collections relating to London antiquities were, unfortunately for us, lost. The old church of "St. Michael ad Bladum," says Strype, "or 'at the Corn'

(corruptly called the 'Quern') was so called because in place thereof was sometime a corn-market, stretching up west to the shambles. It seemeth that this church was first builded about the reign of Edward III. Thomas Newton, first parson there, was buried in the quire, in the year 1361, which was the 35th of Edward III. At the east end of this church stood an old cross called the Old Cross in West-cheap, which was taken down in the 13th Richard II.; since the which time the said parish church was also taken down, but new builded and enlarged in the year 1430; the 8th Henry VI., William Eastfield, mayor, and the commonalty, granting of the common soil of the City three foot and a half in breadth on the north part, and four foot in breadth towards the east, for the inlarging thereof. This church was repaired, and with all things either for use or beauty, richly supplied and furnished, at the sole cost and charge of the parishioners, in 1617. This church was burnt down in the Great Fire, and remains unbuilt, and laid into the street, but the conduit which was formerly at the east end of the church still remains.

The parish is united to St. Vedast, Foster Lane. At the east end of this church, in place of the old cross, is now a water-conduit placed.

William Eastfield, maior, the 9th Henry VI., at the request of divers common councels, granted it so to be. Whereupon, in the 19th of the said Henry, 1,000 marks was granted by a common councel towards the works of this conduit, and the reparation of others. This is called the Little Conduit in West Cheap, by Paul's Gate. At the west end of this parish church is a small pa.s.sage for people on foot, thorow the same church; and west from the same church, some distance, is another pa.s.sage out of Paternoster Row, and is called (of such a sign) Panyer Alley, which cometh out into the north, over against St. Martin's Lane.

'When you have sought the city round, Yet still this is the highest ground.

August 27, 1688.'

This is writ upon a stone raised, about the middle of this Panier Alley, having the figure of a panier, with a boy sitting upon it, with a bunch of grapes, as it seems to be, held between his naked foot and hand, in token, perhaps, of plenty."

At the end of a somewhat long Latin epitaph to Marcus Erington in this church occurred the following lines:--

"Vita bonos, sed poena malos, aeterna capessit, Vitae bonis, sed poena malis, per secula crescit.

His mors, his vita, perpetuatur ita."

John Bankes, mercer and squire, who was interred here, had a long epitaph, adorned with the following verses:--

"Imbalmed in pious arts, wrapt in a shroud Of white, innocuous charity, who vowed, Having enough, the world should understand No need of money might escape his hand; Bankes here is laid asleepe--this place did breed him-- A precedent to all that shall succeed him.

Note both his life and immitable end; Not he th' unrighteous mammon made his friend; Expressing by his talents' rich increase Service that gain'd him praise and lasting peace.

Much was to him committed, much he gave, Ent'ring his treasure there whence all shall have Returne with use: what to the poore is given Claims a just promise of reward in heaven.

Even such a banke _Bankes_ left behind at last, Riches stor'd up, which age nor time can waste."

On part of the site of the church of this parish, after the fire of London in 1666, was erected a conduit for supplying the neighbourhood with water; but the same being found unnecessary, it was, with others, pulled down anno 1727.

CHAPTER XXIV.

BAYNARD'S CASTLE, DOCTORS' COMMONS, AND HERALDS' COLLEGE.

Baron Fitzwalter and King John--The Duties of the Chief Bannerer of London--An Old-fashioned Punishment for Treason--Shakespearian Allusions to Baynard's Castle--Doctors' Commons and its Five Courts--The Court of Probate Act, 1857--The Court of Arches--The Will Office--Business of the Court--Prerogative Court--Faculty Office--Lord Stowell, the Admiralty Judge--Stories of Him--His Marriage--Sir Herbert Jenner Fust--The Court "Rising"--Dr.

Lushington--Marriage Licences--Old Weller and the "Touters"--Doctors' Commons at the Present Day.

We have already made pa.s.sing mention of Baynard's Castle, the grim fortress near Blackfriars Bridge, immediately below St. Paul's, where for several centuries after the Conquest, Norman barons held their state, and behind its stone ramparts maintained their petty sovereignty.

This castle took its name from Ralph Baynard, one of those greedy and warlike Normans who came over with the Conqueror, who bestowed on him many marks of favour, among others the substantial gift of the barony of Little Dunmow, in Ess.e.x. This chieftain built the castle, which derived its name from him, and, dying in the reign of Rufus, the castle descended to his grandson, Henry Baynard, who in 1111, however, forfeited it to the Crown for taking part with Helias, Earl of Mayne, who endeavoured to wrest his Norman possessions from Henry I. The angry king bestowed the barony and castle of Baynard, with all its honours, on Robert Fitzgerald, son of Gilbert, Earl of Clare, his steward and cup-bearer. Robert's son, Walter, adhered to William de Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, against John, Earl of Moreton, brother of Richard Coeur de Lion. He, however, kept tight hold of the river-side castle, which duly descended to Robert, his son, who in 1213 became castellan and standard-bearer of the city. On this same banneret, in the midst of his pride and prosperity, there fell a great sorrow. The licentious tyrant, John, who spared none who crossed his pa.s.sions, fell in love with Matilda, Fitz-Walter's fair daughter, and finding neither father nor daughter compliant to his will, John accused the castellan of abetting the discontented barons, and attempted his arrest. But the river-side fortress was convenient for escape, and Fitz-Walter flew to France.

Tradition says that in 1214 King John invaded France, but that after a time a truce was made between the two nations for five years. There was a river, or arm of the sea, flowing between the French and English tents, and across this flood an English knight, hungry for a fight, called out to the soldiers of the Fleur de Lis to come over and try a joust or two with him. At once Robert Fitz-Walter, with his visor down, ferried over alone with his barbed horse, and mounted ready for the fray. At the first course he struck John's knight so fiercely with his great spear, that both man and steed came rolling in a clashing heap to the ground. Never was spear better broken; and when the squires had gathered up their discomfited master, and the supposed French knight had recrossed the ferry, King John, who delighted in a well-ridden course, cried out, with his usual oath, "By G.o.d's sooth, he were a king indeed who had such a knight!" Then the friends of the banished man seized their opportunity, and came running to the usurper, and knelt down and said, "O king, he is your knight; it was Robert Fitz-Walter who ran that joust." Whereupon John, who could be generous when he could gain anything by it, sent the next day for the good knight, and restored him to his favour, allowed him to rebuild Baynard's Castle, which had been demolished by royal order, and made him, moreover, governor of the Castle of Hertford.

But Fitz-Walter could not forget the grave of his daughter, still green at Dunmow (for Matilda, indomitable in her chast.i.ty, had been poisoned by a messenger of John's, who sprinkled a deadly powder over a poached egg--at least, so the legend runs), and soon placed himself at the head of those brave barons who the next year forced the tyrant to sign Magna Charta at Runnymede. He was afterwards chosen general of the barons'

army, to keep John to his word, and styled "Marshal of the Army of G.o.d and of the Church." He then (not having had knocks enough in England) joined the Crusaders, and was present at the great siege of Damietta. In 1216 (the first year of Henry III.) Fitz-Walter again appears to the front, watchful of English liberty, for his Castle of Hertford having been delivered to Louis of France, the dangerous ally of the barons, he required of the French to leave the same, "because the keeping thereof did by ancient right and t.i.tle pertain to him." On which Louis, says Stow, prematurely showing his claws, replied scornfully "that Englishmen were not worthy to have such holds in keeping, because they did betray their own lord;" but Louis not long after left England rather suddenly, accelerated no doubt by certain movements of Fitz-Walter and his brother barons.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FIGURE IN PANIER ALLEY (_see page 280_).]

Fitz-Walter dying, and being buried at Dunmow, the scene of his joys and sorrows, was succeeded by his son Walter, who was summoned to Chester in the forty-third year of Henry III., to repel the fierce and half-savage Welsh from the English frontier. After Walter's death the barony of Baynard was in the wardship of Henry III. during the minority of Robert Fitz-Walter, who in 1303 claimed his right as castellan and banner-bearer of the City of London before John Blandon, or Blount, Mayor of London. The old formularies on which Fitz-Walter founded his claims are quoted by Stow from an old record which is singularly quaint and picturesque. The chief clauses run thus:--