City Scenes; or, a peep into London

51.  Westminster Abbey.

There seems to be one more great person removed from this life, and going in a hearse with six horses, to his last home.  Westminster Abbey is a fine Gothic pile, and was founded by Sebert, king of the East Saxons, but at what time is uncertain.  In this place the kings and queens of England have been crowned, ever since the days of Pope Nicholas the Second, who appointed it for their inauguration.  The coronation chairs are kept here, and the seat of the most ancient one is the stone on which the kings of Scotland used to be crowned, brought to Westminster by Edward the First.

There is a Westminster scholar, and he appears to be explaining the particulars of some Latin inscription, to his mother and sister, who have called to see him.  Methinks I hear the lady say, “See, my dear children, what the richest and greatest come to at last.  Rich and poor, high and low, must all be laid in the grave; and though this noble monument appears very grand to the living, it makes no difference to ‘the poor inhabitant below,’ whether he lies beneath a beautiful pile of white marble, or has only a few green osiers bound over his grave.”

Is admired both for the grandeur and simplicity which are united in its several parts.  Henry, Earl of Pembroke, promoted the erection of this bridge, and laid the first stone, in the beginning of the year 1739.  It has thirteen arches, exclusive of a very small one at each end.  The foundation is laid on a solid bed of gravel, and the piers are solid blocks of Portland stone, uniting strength with neatness.  It was eight years and three quarters in completing, and cost £389,500 being more than double the cost of Blackfriars’.  Westminster Bridge was opened for carriages about midnight, by a procession of gentlemen, the chief artificers, and a multitude of spectators.  The architect was not a native of this country: his name was Labelye.

Not far from the bridge, in old Palace Yard, stands Westminster Hall.

54.  Westminster Hall

Is thought to be the largest room in Europe unsupported by pillars, being two hundred and seventy feet in length, and seventy-four in breadth.  The roof is of curious workmanship in oak, and reminds the beholders of a grove of trees, whose top branches extend toward each other till they unite.  A great feast was held in this vast apartment, and other rooms of the palace, in the days of King Richard the Second, who is said to have entertained ten thousand guests, with his usual hospitality.

This hall was the court of justice in which the sovereign presided in person.  Hence the Court of King’s Bench took its name.  Charles the First was tried here, and condemned to suffer death by his own subjects.  The trial of peers, or of any person impeached by the Commons, has been usually held here; and the coronation feasts have been celebrated therein for many ages.

The ground on which the hall stands is so near to the water, that on several high tides the Thames has overflowed the hall, the courts of justice have been broken up prematurely, and the people conveyed away in boats.

Perhaps the streets of no city in the world are so well lighted as those of London, there being lamps on each side of the way, but a few yards distant from each other.  It is said that a foreign ambassador happening to enter London in the evening, after the lamps were lighted, was so struck with the brilliancy of the scene, that he imagined the streets had been illuminated expressly in honour of his arrival.  What would he have thought, had he passed through the lustre which is shed at present by the gas lights, from so many of our shops, and from the lamps in the streets?  The Lamplighters are a useful set of men; and they are liable to many accidents while engaged in their dangerous occupation.  In the winter, the foot-pavement is frequently so slippery, that they often fall and are maimed, by the ladder’s sliding from under them; or sometimes a careless passenger runs against the ladder and throws them down.  But one of their greatest difficulties is a high wind.  In October, 1812, a poor man, named Burke, who had been many years in that employment, as he was lighting the lamps on the east side of Blackfriars’ Bridge, was, by a sudden gust of wind, blown into the river, in presence of his son, a child of ten years old, and before assistance could be procured, he sunk to rise no more.

This man has a comfortable great coat, a lantern, and a rattle, with a large stick to attack thieves.  I suppose my readers would think it very wrong of him to sleep, and suffer thieves to do as they please; and so it would.  But I hope no one will blame the watchman, and do as bad himself; for I have known some little folks, who have had books and teachers, and good advice also, that have not made use of any of them.  Indeed, sometimes when their teachers were looking at them, they would appear to be very busy and attentive for a little while; but when no one watched them, they would do as little as a watchman when he takes a nap.

57.  The Link-boy.

The Link-boys are often on the watch, with their large torches, at dark crossings and lanes, to light passengers through them.  They deserve the reward of a few halfpence, from those whom they assist.

58.  The Sedan Chair.

This mode of riding is now but seldom seen, though formerly it was frequently in use.  Now, Sedan Chairs are used only by the sick and weakly, or by the nobility and others, who attend at the levees at court.  As for us poor authors, we must adopt the plan of riding when we must, and walking while we can.

59.  The Milkmaid.

If any of my little readers wish to be as healthy and merry as Betty the milkmaid, they must work hard, and rise early in the morning, instead of lying in bed while every body else is about his business, and idling their time till they go to bed again.  Betty is obliged to get up as soon as it is light, and then takes a walk into the fields to fetch her cows.  When she has milked their full udders into her clean pails, she sets off again, and carries it from door to door, time enough for her customers to have it for breakfast.  As every one knows the business of a milkmaid, I shall say no more about it; but advise those to remember her example, who wish to make themselves happy or useful.

Tom Hazard was an unthinking boy, and would not settle to any business at home, and so ventured one day in a frolic to go on the water with a party of young folks; and, as Tom staid out late at night, he was met on coming ashore by a press-gang, who took him on board a man-of-war, from which, after some time, he made his escape, and entered on board the Desperate Privateer, hazarding his life for a golden chain, or a broken limb.  And now, poor fellow, when it is too late, he sorely laments his situation, for, having lost a leg, he wanders with some of his companions, and joins in their mournful ditty.

This is in that part of the street between Charing Cross and Parliament Street which is called White Hall, Westminster, having capacious apartments for the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, who direct the affairs of the navy.  The telegraph receives information, and gives instructions, in fair weather, to the various commanders of ships at the different sea-ports.  This invention was first practised with success in France, and is admirably contrived to convey intelligence in a very expeditious manner.

Take care, my lads, not to crowd too much sail, or the boat may upset!  There they go! from Blackfriars’ Bridge, through Westminster Bridge, to Vauxhall, and back again.  What a number of boats there are on the water!  Let us hope no lives will be lost, for it seems rather dangerous to be near such fast-sailing boats in a loaded wherry; and, as it is much the safest to be on shore, we would recommend every little boy or girl to keep off the water at such times.

63.  The drowned Boy.

Ah, silly lad! he would go out of his depth, though he knew he was not a skilful swimmer; and see what has been the consequence!  He was seized with the cramp, when he had been a few minutes in the water, and began to sink directly.  His brave companion jumped in after him, at the risk of his own life, and has brought him back, quite senseless, to the boat.  How distressed his poor brother looks! and how anxious to see whether there is any life left in him.

64.  The General Post-office,

In St. Martin’s le Grand.  The front of this fine building is 380 feet long, and is ornamented with three Ionic porticos.  The post-office is one of the most busy spots in London, and is the most perfect system of commercial convenience which has ever been formed under any government.  It receives letters from all parts of our own country, as well as from every civilized nation in the world, and forwards them to their destination with the utmost regularity.

In front of the central portico, I see, there is one of the mail-coaches for the conveyance of letters.  These coaches travel at the rate of eight miles an hour, including stoppages: they carry also passengers and parcels.

65.  Southwark Bridge.

This grand fabric was constructed of cast-iron, under the direction of John Rennie, Esq.  It consists of three immense arches.  The centre arch spans 240 feet, and the two others 210 feet each.  The weight of iron is more than 5308 tons.  The abutments are of stone.  The bridge forms a communication from the bottom of Queen Street, to Bankside, Southwark.  It was begun in September, 1814, and was completed, and opened for public use, in March, 1819.  The entire expense incurred by the building of this bridge was £80,000.

Is built of a very hard kind of stone called granite.  This bridge was commenced in 1811, and completed in 1817.  The road-way of the bridge is level, which is very favourable to the draught of carriages.  It has nine fine arches, 120 feet span.  The piers are twenty feet thick, ornamented with Tuscan columns.  This building was constructed under the superintendence of the late John Rennie, Esq.  The opening of this bridge to the public was conducted with unusual grandeur, on the 18th of June, 1817; being the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo, his late Majesty, then Prince Regent, and the Duke of Wellington, with grand military cavalcade, attending.

Near the foot of Waterloo Bridge, in the Strand, stands

67.  The Royal Academy, Somerset House.

This academy of fine arts was established by royal charter in 1768.  The academy consists of forty academicians, twenty associates, and six associate engravers.  Sir Joshua Reynolds was the first president.  They make a grand annual exhibition of paintings, sculptures, &c. which commences in May, and generally continues open about six weeks.

68.  Covent Garden.

Now we have a view of Covent Garden Market, where plants, fruit, and flowers of every kind, are brought for sale from the country.  By four o’clock in a summer’s morning, it is completely full of the most rare and beautiful plants that can be grown in England, either in open nurseries, or in the hot-house and green-house: and, what with the number of busy people buying and selling; the carts going to and fro, laden with flowers, fruit, and vegetables of all sorts; the beauty and gaiety of the different plants, and the sweetness of their odours, it is altogether a most delightful scene.  The Londoners cannot take a country walk whenever they please, and enjoy the green fields and wild hedge-flowers, in the open air; but they may supply themselves here with every kind of beautiful plants, for a garden within doors; and to those who have a little knowledge of botany, it must be not only an entertaining, but even a useful amusement.

Was formerly the residence of the Dukes of Montague: it is now the national museum for every kind of curiosity.  Indeed, they are so various, both natural and artificial, that it would require a very large book to give even a very short account of them.  Here are such a multitude of animals of all kinds, birds, beasts, fishes, shells, butterflies, insects, books both ancient and modern, precious stones, medals, &c. that, in fact, the only way to form an idea of them, is to see them.

70.  Charing Cross.

Here, upon his brazen horse,
Sits Charles the First at Charing Cross.

This spot was formerly known as a village named Charing, near London, in which King Edward the First placed a magnificent cross, in memory of his beloved queen Eleanor, [65] which cross was destroyed by the fury of the reformers, who regarded it as an object of superstition.  Le Sueur, a French artist, cast a fine statue in brass, of Charles the First on horseback, which was erected in place of the cross.  When Cromwell ruled, this statue was sold to one Revet, a brazier, on condition of his melting it, as the parliament had ordered that it should be destroyed.  Revet made a fortune by this statue, casting a vast number of articles in bronze, as if made out of his purchase, which were eagerly bought by those desirous of having a memorial of their prince; and by others, from the pleasure of mean triumph over fallen royalty.  Revet, however, had not destroyed the statue, but kept it buried in the earth; and Charles the Second, on his restoration, caused it to be erected again.

Which has been pulled down since our plate was engraved, was a very grand palace.  It stood in Pall Mall, exactly opposite Waterloo Place.  This was the town-residence of his late Majesty: it was furnished with the most elegant and splendid taste, and was said to be the most beautiful in its decorations of any royal residence in Europe.

72.  The Quadrant, Regent Street.

This is one of the most beautiful of the new improvements at the west end of the town, and is thought to be the most singular and magnificent line of streets in the world.  At the entrance of the Quadrant stands the County Fire Office.  The Building is surmounted by a colossal statue of Britannia, behind which is an observatory, which affords a view over London and the surrounding villages; the purpose of which is, that, on an alarm of fire, the managing director may ascertain the position in which it lies, and send the engines, which are kept at the back of the building.

The kind and loving mother of those two children is dead, and going to the grave!  It is too late now to be dutiful to her, for she cannot open her eyes to look at you, they are shut for ever; it is too late to do as she bid you, for her lips are closed, and she cannot speak: it is too late to wait upon her now, for she no longer requires your assistance!  O, little girl and little boy, if your dear mamma be still alive, be very kind and dutiful to her before this sorrowful day comes; or else it will be too late to do any thing for her, but cry very bitterly over her grave.

74.  The Charity Children.

These charity children are coming from church, with the two parish-beadles before them.  Several thousands of poor children are taught to read, work, and write, in the different charity-schools of London, and to do their duty to God and to their neighbours; which will enable them to become respectable in this world, and tend to make them happy in the next.

Once a year, about six thousand charity children, dressed in uniforms of different colours, assemble in St. Paul’s Cathedral, on benches raised to a great height one above the other, circularly, under the dome.  The order with which each school finds its own situation, and the union of so many voices, all raised at one moment to the praise of their great Creator, as they chant the hundredth psalm on the entrance of the clergyman, cause a most delightful and affecting sensation in the minds of the spectators.  The solemnity of the place, and the hope that so much innocence, under such protection, would be reared to virtue and happiness, must add greatly to the effect.

This uncommon scene is well described in the following lines.

’Twas in the pleasant month of June, their hands and faces clean,
The children walking two and two, in red, and blue, and green;
Grey-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white as snow,
Till into the high dome of St. Paul’s, they, like Thames’ waters, flow.
Oh! what a multitude they seem’d, these flowers of London town!
Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all their own!

The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs;
Thousands of little boys and girls, raising their innocent hands;
Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song,
Or like harmonious thunderings, the seats of heav’n among.
Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor:
Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.

75.  Highgate Tunnel.

This grand excavation was made in 1821, through the eastern side of Highgate-hill, for the purpose of easing the draught of horses in passing in this direction.  There is also a grand archway across, over the Tunnel, which connects Highgate with Hornsey.

76.  Watering the Streets.

London streets, in dry weather, are very dusty; this, when the wind blows briskly, annoys not only the eyes of those who walk, and of those who ride, but spoils the look of many a joint of meat.  Pastry-cooks’ and many other shops are much hurt by the dust; so that, at an early hour in the morning, many streets are watered by means of a scoop, and water pent up in the kennels, on each side of the carriageway.

77.  Little Boy at the Crossing.

That’s right, sweep away there, my good little man,
And earn a few halfpence, whenever you can.

Many of the crossings in London streets are often very dirty, and some little lads, who prefer doing even a dirty job to being idle, put down a board for the passengers to walk upon, which they sweep clean continually from mud or snow.  They do not forget to hold their hats to those who make use of this convenience; and good-natured people seldom fail to drop a halfpenny into them, like the gentleman in the picture.

Here comes the old man with his flowers to sell,
   Along the streets merrily going;
Full many a year I’ve remember’d him well,
   With, “Flowers, a growing, a blowing!”

Geraniums, in dresses of scarlet and green;
   Thick aloes, that blossom so rarely;
The long creeping cereus with prickles so keen;
   Or primroses modest and early.

The myrtle dark green, and the jessamine pale,
   Sweet scented and gracefully flowing,
This flower-man carries and offers for sale,
   “All flourishing, growing, and blowing!”

The privilege of working as a waterman on the river Thames, is only to be obtained by servitude or birth-right; and freemen only can work as porters in the city, for which they wear a ticket as a badge of privilege, and on which their names are stamped and numbered; but the privilege of bringing salt, fish, coals, fruit, and other goods on shore, from ships, boats, or barges, belongs to the Company of Fellowship Porters.  All the firemen in London must be watermen or lightermen.

80.  The Coach-stand.

Nothing can exceed the noise, bustle, and hurry, of the streets of London, where carriages are passing backward and forward during the whole day, and most of the night.  Carts are creaking under heavy loads of merchandise, mail-coaches are driving to and from the post-office with the letter-bags, and more than a thousand hackney-coaches and chariots are sometimes in motion at once on a rainy day.  These are a great convenience in London; for, to whatever part of the town you may wish to go, you have only to beckon to a coachman, and

He’ll drive you home quickly, and when you are there,
You have nothing to do but to pay him his fare.

That gentleman and lady have called to a coachman to take them home; and the waterman, who attends on hackney-coaches and their employers, seems to be enquiring where they are going.  We would recommend every person who hires a hackney coach in London, to notice what number is on the door, which, on many occasions, has been found very useful.

I am an old coachman, and drive a good hack,
With a coat of five capes that quite covers my back;
And my wife keeps a sausage-shop, not many miles
From the narrowest alley in all broad St. Giles’.

What tho’ at a tavern my gentleman tarries,
Why, the coachman grows richer than he whom he carries;
And I’d rather, says I, since it keeps me from sin,
Be the driver without, than the toper within.

And tho’ I’m a coachman, I freely confess,
I beg of my Maker my labours to bless;
I praise him each morning, and pray ev’ry night,
And ’tis this makes my heart feel so cheerful and light.

That lady and her children, who have gone from Cheapside to Islington, may fancy themselves at a farm in the country; the fields look so green, the fresh air is so reviving, and the warm milk so delightfully sweet.  Let us hope they will all receive some benefit from their morning excursion; for a walk, and a draught of new milk, must contribute greatly to the health of children who are confined for the rest of the day in a crowded city.  The old gentleman on the bench seems also to have had his draught, and is contemplating the fine shape of the gentle cow.

.82  Skating.

There go the apprentice and beauish young spark,
To skate on the frozen canal in the park!
Each bent upon showing his skill and his speed:
And, truly, there’s one bent upon it, indeed.
Nay, if you go on where the ice is so thin,
You will not be long on, my good fellow, but in.

83.  The hard Frost.

What a picture of winter!  The water in the leaden pipes, leading from the large iron ones underground, into the houses, is frozen.  As some part of the pipe is generally exposed to the cold air, this stoppage frequently happens in a frost, so that the turn-cock is obliged to put a small wooden pipe into one of the large ones underground, [75] that the people may procure water.  The poor woman’s cloak is frozen so hard, that it looks like a great wing.  The little boy blows his fingers to make them warmer: and there is a man throwing the snow off the house, that it may not soak through to the chamber ceiling when a thaw comes.  What a blessing to have a good house and a comfortable fire-side, when the weather is so severe.

The turn-cock, as he is called, has just opened a fire-plug, or rather water-plug; but as its principal use is to supply water to the engines for extinguishing fires, it has acquired the former name, more from custom than propriety.  Some boys make rare sport, by putting one foot on the stream, and dividing the course of the water; it is thus driven into the air, and over their companions or passengers.

At first sight it seems impossible for water to run up hill; and yet, by a little ingenuity, this is easily done; for, put water into what you please, and one side or end of it will always rise as high as the other.  It is by knowing and thinking about this, that clever men have contrived to supply whole cities with water, and even to send it up into the highest rooms of a house.  They first of all make a great reservoir, or collection of water, on some neighbouring hill, from which pipes are carried, underground, to all the houses they wish to supply; the water in that end of the pipes next the town, always rising as high as that in the reservoir at the other end of them.  If they cannot find a convenient spring, sufficiently high, they force the water to a proper height by pumps and steam-engines; and by these inventions, do with ease, what the best ancient philosophers might have thought impossible.  When one of the great pipes, which run through the streets of London, happens to burst, the water soon forces up the pavement, and a fountain is produced.

Are situated in Wapping, between Ratcliffe Highway and the Thames.  One of the docks is so large, that it covers more than twenty acres of ground, being 1262 feet long, and 699 feet wide.  It was first opened on the 31st of January, 1805.  The new dock covers a space of fourteen acres.  There are also immense warehouses.  One of them is 762 feet long, and 160 feet wide, a representation of which was too large to introduce into our picture; but we have given a view of the grand entrance, with a ship going into the docks, to be unladen of her merchandise, which will be taken care of in one of those warehouses, till it is sold for public use.

The wise and benevolent design of founding an hospital for those brave men who have been disabled by age or accident, from serving any longer in the navy, is said, to the honour of the female sex, to have originated with that excellent woman, Queen Mary, the wife of King William the Third; and the founding of an asylum for invalid soldiers at Chelsea, was also attributed to a female, one of King Charles the Second’s favourites.  The buildings at each place are more like palaces than hospitals, and great care is taken to render the objects of the institution comfortable in their situations.  The hospital at Chelsea, with its appendages, covers above forty acres of ground.  There are three hundred and thirty-six in-door pensioners, and an unlimited number of out-door pensioners, who receive an annual allowance of seven pounds twelve shillings and sixpence each.  Greenwich Hospital admits two thousand three hundred and fifty pensioners, who are provided with lodging, food, clothing, and pocket-money; exclusive of about twelve hundred out-pensioners, who receive seven pounds each per annum.  Both hospitals are situated by the water-side.  At Chelsea, the pensioners have gardens and fields to walk in; and at Greenwich, there is a large and pleasant park.

THE END.

Joseph Rickerby, Printer, Sherbourn Lane.

Footnotes

[9]  Published at 58, Holborn Hill.

[14]  Here Ann Boleyn, and many other illustrious persons, languished out their miserable hours of captivity; especially the amiable and learned, the good Jane Gray, who was shut up in it for five months.  She fell a victim to the jealousy of Mary.  Her piety, magnanimity, and conscious innocence, afforded her invincible fortitude in this trying hour, which, even the sight of her husband’s body, reeking from the scaffold, did not shake.

[29]  The summer of 1794 had been very dry, and a pitch-kettle, happening to boil over at a wharf near Ratcliffe Cross, it set fire to a warehouse containing many bags of saltpetre: this soon exploded, and the wind blowing from the south, directed the flames towards Ratcliffe High Street, which took fire on both sides, and more houses were consumed than in any conflagration since the great fire in 1666.  It was estimated that upwards of four hundred families lost all their possessions, and many of them lived in tents or booths for a considerable time after.

[65]  When in Palestine, Edward nearly escaped being murdered by an assassin, from whom he received a wound in his arm, which was given by a poisoned dagger.  It is affirmed that he owed his life to the affection of Eleanor, his wife, who was with him, and sucked the venom out of the wound.

[75]  In the year 1813, one of the turn-cocks in Giltspur Street, found a very unusual stoppage at the extremity of the Thames water-pipe there, and on searching for the cause, to his great surprise found a live salmon, which weighed about eight pounds.