Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.
nuisance of barrows being driven on the pavement cannot be removed; it
is a great shame that lusty and able fellows should be wheeling foul
linen, hogwash, and other filthy articles along the street, to the
annoyance and inconvenience of pedestrians.”
“I am of your opinion,” replied his Cousin; “but during the short time
I have been here, I have discovered many other equally objectionable
annoyances. There is, for instance, the carrying of milk pails, which,
unless great care is taken, are so likely to break people's shins; and
in dirty weather the trundling of boys' hoops, to the discomfiture of
many a well-dressed Lady.”
At this moment a butcher was passing with a tray heavily loaded, and Bob
narrowly escaped a blow from the projecting corner, which immediately
induced him to add that to the number of what he termed street ~419~~
grievances, and almost to overturn both the carrier and his load.
“A lucky escape,” said Dashall, “for you might have lost an eye by
coming in contact with that tray, and I wonder a stop is not put to the
probability of such fatal accidents. It is related that a certain
City Alderman, whose constitution, it may be presumed, is rather of a
combustible nature, by the alarms he spread during his mayoralty, of
the intention to burn the City of London, and destroy all its peaceable
inhabitants, thrashed a butcher who ran against him in the public
street. This it must be admitted was a summary mode of punishment,
although it was not likely to remove the nuisance; but there are still
many that are not enumerated in your list. Both by day and night in
the most frequented streets of the Metropolis and its environs, the
unoffending passengers of either sex are frequently obstructed on, or
absolutely pushed off the pavement by a trio of arm-in-arm puppies;
nay they will sometimes sweep the whole of the space from the wall
to the curb stone, by walking four abreast, a practice brutally
infringing the laws of civil society in pedestrian excursions through a
crowded Metropolis.
“I have however with pleasure, upon some occasions, seen these vile
trespassers meet with a just resentment in the unexpected pugilistic
exertions of the insulted party; and have almost rejoiced to see them
packed into a coach and sent home with bruises, black eyes, and bloody
noses, serving, it is to be hoped, as wholesome lessons for their future
conduct. In some cases duels have arisen from this violation of decorum
in the King's highway, and by this means, scoundrels have been admitted
to the undeserved honour of being met on a level by gentlemen.
“These,” continued he, “are the polite encroachers on the pavé.. There
are, however, many others, but of a less censurable, though certainly
of a finable description; such as journeymen bakers wheeling barrows
conveying the staff of life--publicans' boys collecting pewter
pots--lady drivers of similar vehicles, containing oysters, inferior or
damaged fruit, delicate prog for pug dogs, cats, &c.
“After all, the most prominent offenders, or at least obstructors of
the public way, in my opinion, are those sturdy John Bulls, brewers'
servants, by means of ropes ~420~~ and pulleys affixed to their drays,
lowering down beer into, or drawing up empty casks from the cellars of
public-houses. Now although this may be unavoidable, ask one of these
bluff bipeds to let you pass, the consequence frequently will be,
instead of rough civility, an insolent reply accompanied with vulgar
oaths; in short, a torrent of abuse, if not a shove into the kennel;
perhaps a grimy rope thrown against your white stockings. Private,
emolument and convenience certainly ought to give way to public
accommodation.”
“Confound that dustman's bell,” said Bob, as they passed down
Wych-street; “it is as bad as any thing we nave mentioned yet; it
absolutely deafens one.”
“Oh, if you call noises nuisances, we may go on with a list from this
time to this day month, and scarcely comprehend them. The cries of
London are many of them very laughable, and many very lamentable, and by
way of contrast to the deafening dustman, take care of the bespatterings
from the mud cart. The garlick-eating rogues, the drivers of these
inconvenient conveniences, grinning horribly their ghastly smiles, enjoy
a most malicious pleasure in the opportunities which chance affords
them, of lending a little additional decoration from the contents of
their carts, by way of embellishment to a cleanly dressed passenger.
Therefore keep, if possible, at such a respectful distance as to avoid
the effects of this low envy, and steer clear of the mudlarks.”
By this time they had passed through the line of leading thoroughfares,
and had St. Paul's in their view, when Tom took occasion to remark, “He
was sorry the scaffolding was not removed, or,” continued he, “we would
soon have mounted above these petty considerations, and looked down upon
the world. However, we can take a tolerable survey of the metropolis
from the Monument, and as it is not much farther, we may as well extend
our walk to that celebrated pillar, said to be one of the finest in the
world, and erected by Sir Christopher Wren in memory of the great
fire which in 1666 broke out at a house on the spot, and destroyed the
metropolis from Tower Hill to Temple Bar. From this pillar you will have
a fine panoramic view of London, Westminster, and Southwark; and as we
are about to leave its noise, its bustle, and its inconveniences in a
day or two, we may as well take a general survey.”
~421~~ Bob having signified his consent to this proposal, they made the
best of their way to the Monument, where having deposited the customary
entrance money with the door-keeper, they were allowed to ascend by the
winding staircase to the top, when a prospect was presented to the eye
of Tallyho, of which he could not have formed any previous conception.
The view of the river as far as the eye could reach, each way, the
moving of the boats, the bustle and activity of the streets, and the
continued hum which arose to their ears, formed altogether a subject
of delightful contemplation; while the appearance of being as it were
suspended in the air, rendered it awful and terrific. Bob had almost
grown giddy in his ascension, and for some time took care to keep a
fast hold of the iron railings at top, in order to secure himself from
falling; till Dashall drew from his pocket a telescope, and directed
his attention to Greenwich Hospital, Shooter's Hill, and the public
buildings at a distance, where they were scarcely discernible by the
naked eye. Bob was delighted with the view of Greenwich Hospital, and
the account which his Cousin gave him of the establishment; and upon
descending they took a complete walk round this celebrated pillar,
marking its decorations and reading the inscription.
“It is,” said Tom, “a fluted column of the Doric order; the total height
is 202 feet, the diameter at the base 15 feet, and the height of the
column 120 feet; the cone at the top, with its urn, are 42 feet; the
height of the massy pedestal is 40 feet; there are 345 steps inside;
but,” continued he, “it is really a great pity that this beautiful
Monument should be in such a confined situation, for in a proper
place it would form one of the most striking objects of the kind that
architecture is capable of producing.
“The inscription, it is true,” continued Dashall, “had better be erased,
it contains a libel, or more properly a lie, which almost contradicts
itself, for no rational being can entertain the notion that the
Catholics, or indeed any religious sect, could wilfully have perpetrated
so horrible a deed as this pillar was intended to impute to them; nor
can so much credit be given to human foresight as for it to be concluded
that a fire, which broke out in a single house, could upon this, rather
than upon other occasions, have extended its ravages in so extraordinary
a manner.--
~422~~ While we arc on the spot we will take a peep at a curious piece
of antiquity; not that I am so great a lover of such curiosities, but it
would appear almost unpardonable for you to have been in London without
seeing London Stone.”
“I have heard of it,” said Tallyho, “and if we are near, let us have a
view.”
“Come on then,” said Dashall; “This same London Stone is at present
fixed close under the south wall of St. Swithin's Church, Cannon
Street. It has by some been supposed of British origin, a kind of solemn
boundary, or some other object probably of a religious nature, which
through every change and convulsion of the State has been preserved with
reverential care. But this is the very place,” said he.
Bob stared about him with surprise, to discover this curious and
apparently valuable relic, without finding it, till at length his
Cousin directed his attention to the spot, which at present is under a
pitching-block, or resting-place for persons carrying heavy loads, and
almost burst into laughter, for he had raised his Cousin's expectation
by the previous description.
“How!” said Tallyho, “and is this your curiosity?”
“Even so,” replied Tom, “that is the celebrated London Stone; it
formerly stood nearer the middle of the street, was placed deep in the
ground, and strongly fixed with iron bars. According to account, the
first mention of it was in the reign of Ethelstan, king of the West
Saxons, and it has been usually viewed by our antiquaries as a military
stone, from which the Romans began the computation of their miles, a
conjecture which certainly appears very reasonable, not only from the
discovery of the Roman road after the year 1666, running directly to
this stone from Watling Street, but from the exact coincidence which its
distance bears with the neighbouring station, mentioned in Antonine's
Itinerary, the principal of whose Journeys either begin or end with
London.”
The sound of a horn interrupted this conversation.
“Apropos,” said Tom, “we can take the Post Office in our way, a place of
considerable importance; so allons.”
They now pursued their way to Lombard Street.
“This collection of buildings,” said Dashall, as they entered,
“important as its concerns are to the nation, claims no praise as a
building. It stands behind Lombard ~423~~ Street, from which, on the
south side of the street, there is a passage leading to it, under an
arched gateway.
“A plan has, however, been adopted for erecting a building worthy of
this great establishment, on the site now called St. Martin's-le-grand,
and to improve the access to it by pulling down the east ends of Newgate
Street and Paternoster-Row. It is now proceeding rapidly.
“The Post-office system is, however, one of the most perfect regulations
of finance and convenience existing under any government. It has
gradually been brought to its present perfection, being at first in the
hands of individuals, and replete with abuses. In its present form it
not only supplies the government with a great revenue, but accomplishes
that by means highly beneficial to the persons contributing.
“The Post-office is the most important spot on the surface of the globe.
It receives information from all countries; it distributes instructions
to the antipodes; it connects together more numerous and distant
interests of men than any similar establishment. It is in the highest
degree hitherto realized, the seat of terrestrial perception and
volition--the brain of the whole earth; and hitherto it has been in a
narrow valley, misshapen even to deformity, and scarcely accessible to
the few mail coaches which collect there for their nightly freights.
“The present Post-office was erected in 1660; but great additions have
been made to it from time to time, though the whole is disjointed and
inconvenient.