Chapter C: Clive (4)

"That out of this number of your Majesty's most loyal and
dutiful subjects, there is a multitude already actually
reduced to the want of the common necessaries of life; and
that the whole body must seek subsistence in some different
employ, at the risque of perishing miserably by a failure
in the attempt, unless some means can be speedily found to
support their falling trade, fatally wounded by the present
mode of fashion which so generally prevails, of men in almost
all stations wearing their own hair:

"That this mode, pernicious enough in itself to their
trade, is rendered excessively more so by swarms of French
hair-dressers already in these Cities, and daily increasing,
who by artifice more than merit, as your Petitioners humbly
presume, and by that facility with which your Majesty's
British subjects are too much inclined to prefer French
skill and taste in every article of dress (by which the most
considerable manufactories in these kingdoms, as well as
those of your Petitioners, do greatly suffer), find means to
get employment, to the privation of that pittance to your
Majesty's natural subjects which the fashion itself would
still leave in their power to obtain:

"That, by the present fashion, your Petitioners are compelled
to a breach of the command of God and man, and a course of
disobedience to your Majesty's proclamation, wisely intended
for the benefit of all your Majesty's subjects; for the
Lord's day, designed for their instruction and confirmation
in the principles of virtue and piety, is to such of your
Petitioners as can yet find employment, the day, of all
others, on which they are most hurried and confused; and a
refusal to comply with any order from their employers on
that day amounts to a resolution of starving at once. This
is a hardship of so peculiar a nature, that your Petitioners
humbly conceive no considerable body of your Majesty's
subjects labour under it in any manner proportionally as
they do. May they be permitted to say, that they tremble
for themselves and their children, lest by this unavoidable
absence from the sacred duties of that day, and the
misemployment of it entirely to worldly pursuits, they become
as those that knew not God, while their fellow-subjects
are happy in the inestimable privilege of attending and
discharging their religious duties, and imbibing continually
the precepts that teach to bear a conscience void of offence,
to fear God, and honour the King?

"Pressed by the weight of these sufferings; feeling their
trade failing under them; sensible of the impending ruin
of the several manufactories dependent on them, beholding
great and daily increasing numbers of their journeymen
in a starving and despairing condition; beholding also
the subjects of France feeding on the only fragments they
might hope to subsist on; and urged by every consideration
interesting to human nature; your Petitioners have at last
ventured on an application to the only earthly power able
to save them from the torrent which is bearing them down to
destruction. Their hearts prompt them to believe, that to
know and to relieve the distresses of your subjects, is the
same thing with your Majesty; in which sentiment they are
fully confirmed by many Royal Acts since the commencement of
your reign, and by none more than that which rescued the poor
from the scourge of the oppressors, by reducing the price
of provisions. Your Petitioners feel this effect of Royal
paternal care, and gratefully bless the protecting hand.

"Your Petitioners therefore, with submissive hope
and dutiful resignation, leave to your Majesty's
consideration the merits of their Petition; and
whether your Majesty's gracious condescension,
by example and countenance, is not the only
means whereby unimagined numbers can possibly be
saved from the deepest misery; humbly praying
such commiseration and relief in their present
deplorable situation as to your Majesty shall seem
meet. And they shall ever pray, &c.

"The above Petition was presented to his Majesty on Monday
last; to which he was most graciously pleased to return the
following answer: 'That he held nothing dearer to his heart
than the happiness of his people; and that they may be
assured, he should at all times use his endeavours to promote
their real welfare[353:A].'"

The Ladies Head-dress in 1765 is said to have exactly resembled that of Mary Queen of Scots as represented in her portraits.

Court Mournings were continued for a most unreasonable length of time previous to 1768, and became very prejudicial to the Manufacturer and Retailer; but remonstrances from the City of London procured the ensuing notice, which was inserted in the Gazette:

"His Majesty, in compassion to such manufacturers and people
in trade as by the length of Court Mournings are, in this
time of general scarcity and dearness of provisions, deprived
in a great measure of the means of getting bread, hath been
pleased to give directions for shortening all such mournings
for the future: and the Lord Chamberlain's orders for Court
Mournings will be issued hereafter conformably thereto.

HERTFORD."

The subject of Dress is now nearly exhausted; but I cannot part with the Follies of thirty years without permitting an observer to speak of one of them:

"Among the many enormous exuberances of modern dress, I believe there is one lately sprung up which you may not have noticed. You will perhaps be surprized when I tell you it is the _Cork-rump_. To explain this technical term, you are to know that the ladies have thought it conducive to elegance to make an addition to the hinder-part of their dress, by sewing several large pieces of cork under the straps of their stays, in order that, by the protuberance of this new additional rump, their waist may seem the smaller and the more delicate."

Some of the then and subsequent exuberances shall now be brought to recollection. And first, the Head--this we have seen covered with a _Cushion_, as it was termed, generally formed of horse-hair, and something like a porter's knot set upon the ends; over this the hair was combed strait, the sides curled, and the back turned up, and the whole powdered; diminutive Caps of gauze, adorned with ribands, and miniature Hats, generally of black silk trimmed, were _stuck_ on the tower of hair with long pins. The Waist was covered by a long-bodied Gown, drawn exceedingly close over stays laced still closer; the Hips sometimes supported a Bell Hoop; the Shoulders alternately small Cloaks and Cardinals, the former of muslin and silk, and the latter almost always of black silk richly laced.

This description of Female dress altered by _degrees_ to the present fashion: the Head insensibly lowered; the horse-hair gave place to large natural curls spread over the face and ears; the Cap enlarged to an enormous size, and the Bonnet swelled in proportion; Hoops were entirely discontinued, except at Court; silks became unfashionable, and printed calicoes and the finest white muslins were substituted, and still hold their influence. The Ladies have at length, much to their honour, thrown aside those hateful attempts to supply Nature's deficiencies or omissions, the false breasts, pads, and bottoms; and now appear in that native grace and proportion which distinguishes an English-woman: the Hair, cleansed from all extraneous matter, shines in beautiful lustre carelessly turned round the head in the manner adopted by the most eminent Grecian sculptors; and the Form appears through their snow-white draperies in that fascinating manner which excludes the least thought of impropriety. Their Hats and Bonnets of straw, chip, and beaver, are generally well-proportioned and handsome; and their velvet Pelisses, Shawls, and silk Spencers, are contrived to improve rather than injure the form.

But in the midst of this praise I must be permitted to make one observation; and that is, some thoughtless females indulge in the licence of freedom rather too far, and shew their persons in a manner offensive to modesty.

The Male dress changed almost insensibly from formality to ease. This was effected merely by altering the cut of the clothes: the materials are the same they were an hundred years past; the colours however are more grave. Deep blue, dark browns, mixtures, and black, are worn by the sedate and the gay, the young and the old: the former indeed sometimes appear in Coats _rather large_ for their persons; but they compensate for this oddity by stretching their Pantaloons almost to bursting, and wear something _that resembles_ the Waistcoat of a boy seven years old. The modern Hat is very convenient--a high flat crown and narrow brim, pressed down before and behind, and turned up at the sides. Square-toed Shoes have been revived; and half and whole Boots are, I believe, every thing but slept in. The modern Neckcloth should not be omitted, especially as it has undergone more ridicule than the rest of the dress in the aggregate; it is enough to say, the Neckcloth has been compared _to a towel tied under the chin_.

The Hair was a long time dressed or frizzed high on the head, like a negro's wool, and perfectly whitened with powder, and alternately plaited and turned up or queued behind. The Powder-tax occurred, and thousands of heads became in an instant black and brown; and, as the Revolution in France _deserved_ imitation, the fierce Republican head of Brutus stared us full in the front, mounted upon the shoulders of _Ladies_ and Box-lobby Loungers composed of puppies rather than men.

Since those days of horror Powder again makes its appearance with the hair cropped close, except above the forehead; there it is turned erect, in imitation of a--cock's-comb.

And now, Fashion, I bid thee, in perfect good humour, heartily farewell!

FOOTNOTES:

[323:A] The Bishop of Durham, within his Diocese, has many of the privileges of a Lay Peer; and Dr. Talbot had then lately succeeded to that See.

[338:A] See London Chronicle, vol. XI. p. 167, for 1762.

[353:A] London Chronicle, Feb. 14, 1763.

CHAP. IX.

DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE TRACED FROM ITS ORIGIN TO ITS
PRESENT IMPROVED STATE IN LONDON--LIGHTING AND IMPROVING OF
STREETS--OBSTRUCTIONS IN THEM--ORNAMENTS, &C. &C.

The annual movement of the Sun to the South renders it an indisputable fact, that the Northern climate of England must have made huts or caves indispensibly necessary to the inhabitants, at least five months of each twelve, from the hour that our country was peopled. _Ideas_ are useless on such a subject; _sensation_ is sufficient; and instinct, which compels a brute to seek shelter under ground, or in a hollow tree, from the inclemency of the season, cannot have been so far denied to the Briton as to lead him to other expedients less calculated to answer his purpose. I do not hesitate, therefore, to assert that our Aborigines fortified existence in caverns natural and artificial, and in huts constructed of branches easily separated from trees, and covered or thatched with leaves and dried plants; nay, the piling of flat stones on each other seems an operation so easy and natural, that I cannot conceive why the art should have been imported; indeed, mortar is suggested by wet earth or mud dried on river sides by the air; and who knows but that our mud walls and even mud villages now to be found in numbers North of London may be the traditionary houses of our remotest ancestors[359:A]?

After this Island was invaded, the habitations of the various nations which accomplished the invasions were introduced by imitation, and copies of Roman, Saxon, Danish, and Norman houses were doubtlessly common. The Tesselated Pavements and Baths still discovered belong to the first; but their form can only be supposed, I should imagine, from the discoveries at Herculaneum.

The Saxons have left us strong and almost eternal proofs of their skill in masonry; but I believe there is little or nothing to be found, the work of their hands, besides Ecclesiastical Buildings and Castles. It is true, the latter were _habitations_, but for the rich and powerful alone; the dwellings of the mass of the community were too frail to reach our days.

The Danes appear to have done little more than plunder and destroy. The Normans, more politic, imitated the Saxons, and left us Churches and Castellated Mansions; but still we are without domestic architecture. All these facts tend to prove, that our Cities, and even London, consisted almost wholly of wooden or framed houses plastered. Why it was so, is a problem not easily resolved; for, supposing the antient Briton ignorant of masonry before the country was invaded, the Romans immediately introduced the cutting and sculpturing of stone, such cement as we cannot now equal, and the use of bricks. Perhaps, however, the uncertain tenure of all property discouraged the Farmer and Citizen from erecting solid mansions; indeed, they were all soldiers and vassals, and their houses probably were erected by their various masters at the least possible expence. This argument may apply to the time anterior to the Norman invasion; but it will not do after London increased, and the people were made more independent. When property became secure, the houses were certainly slight and combustible; and hence the tremendous fires which have been recorded between the time of William the Conqueror and 1666.

Stone was, I presume, almost exclusively used for Palaces and the mansions of the richest Citizens; but that is readily accounted for: Stone requires no great deal of preparation; the facing received the labours of the Sculptor or Mason, but the monstrous thick wall was filled with fragments from the chissel, or rough pebbles. Besides, pillars, mouldings, and fret-work, arose without difficulty from soft stone. Could those embellishments have been produced in brick without infinite trouble? and, would they ever have looked well when joined with mortar? Is it not then plain that the noble ideas of our Princes, Nobles, and other rich men who lavished vast sums on their structures, required _Stone_ to embody them; and that, had it been common, Brick would certainly have been rejected by them? The total disuse of brick by the rich deprived the less fortunate Citizen of its advantages. The revival or introduction of any manufacture demands encouragement from the powerful; if that is withheld, who will attempt them merely on disinterested motives? Parsimony in the great revived the art of Brick-making. When a Prince found the price of labour increase, and wished to build, he first stripped the design of his architect of ornament: thus stripped, a plain surface might be composed of any hard substance; Brick naturally occurred, and bricks were made. Still the mass of the people had them not. The affluent used them both in London and in the country; but the unhappy publick, fascinated with their Wood and Plaster, at last saw one fatal flame destroy all their frail tenements at one blow. The year 1666 expelled wooden buildings from our Metropolis; and from that year Brick reigned with undiminished sway, has crept beyond all reasonable limits, and even aspired to compose Churches and Chapels.

The next object in this difficult article will be the attempt to trace different æras in Domestic Architecture. Unfortunately the fire alluded to has nearly deprived us of a possibility of so doing in London: the most antient specimen there I should suppose to be the _ecclesiastical_ lodgings appendant to Westminster Abbey in Dean's-yard. I confess, they are not strictly in point; but I have ventured to mention them, as probably somewhat resembling those of the laity. Their date is previous to 1386, as Abbot Litlington, who built them, died in that year. It will be found that the windows are small and pointed: in this particular they differ from those erected at the same period by Richard II. adjoining the West side of Westminster-hall. Litlington's lodgings are of stone; but the latter is of brick, and perhaps one of the oldest specimens of that material in England, and certainly so in London. Part of it was recently taken down to widen the street, but enough remains to convince us œconomy prevailed in a very considerable degree at the date of its erection. From the time of Richard II. to that of Henry VIII. brick edifices were erected at intervals. In the reign of Henry VII. the pointed style became so expensive, through the introduction of excessive ornament, that its declination might readily be foreseen: accordingly the rich had recourse to brick; and when Henry VIII. dissolved religious houses, the pious had no motive to continue the use of splendid architecture in erecting or supporting Churches and Abbeys.

But I would not be understood to mean that the mansions of men of fortune were uniformly built of brick after Richard II. had introduced the use of it in London: there is at least one proof to the contrary now remaining, in the house of Sir John Crosby, erected soon after 1466. The reader, on referring to a view of that magnificent building inserted in the third volume of "Londinium Redivivum," p. 565, will find Sir John to have excelled the Monarch in his ideas of grandeur; and perceive, besides, that pointed windows with rich mullions were by no means confined to churches and ecclesiastical lodgings; and the roof will convince him that pendents pierced and flattened arches were not first introduced in the reign of Henry VIII.

The old gateway of St. James's Palace is a good specimen of brick architecture of that reign. Somerset-house, built in the reign of Edward VI. was an awkward imitation of the Grecian style; and the intercolumniations in several instances were filled with appropriate niches: but the remainder of those of the front had the old English angular window, with mullions of the same figure; the wings were more correct; that part of the Palace which faced the Thames resembled the style of St. James's before Inigo Jones altered it[364:A].

If we may credit the date, there is one house in Bishopsgate-street, almost adjoining St. Botolph's church, coæval with Sir John Crosby's, which resembles many others known to have been built in far subsequent periods. Whether the house alluded to of framed wood and plaster is really of the age mentioned is of little importance; but I think it may be safely adduced as a probable type of the mansions of tradesmen of very remote days.

Anderson says, in his History of Commerce, that most of the houses in London were thatched with straw in 1246; and that chimneys were not known to the inhabitants of the wooden houses even in 1300. According to this gentleman, they sat round stoves in the midst of smoke, which I suppose he intends to infer escaped through the doors and windows. The assertion that chimneys were _not known_ at that period is confuted by every old Castle in the kingdom. How the poorest classes fared in this particular, is another consideration.

There were numbers of private mansions erected in the reigns of Edward, Mary, Elizabeth, and James I.; most of which were of brick with stone quoins, ornaments, and window frames; for instance, Holland and Camden houses, Wyer-hall, the Middle Temple-hall, &c. &c. The windows of those were almost invariably angular and mullioned, and the ornaments resembled the Grecian rather than any other style. The reign of Charles I. was too unfavourable for general safety to admit the erection of many houses; but Inigo Jones appears to have improved the British imitation of the Grecian style almost to perfection. This architect, by elevating his cielings and altering the shape of windows, removed that darkness and gloom which belonged to the preceding æra.

Sir Christopher Wren completed the work commenced by Jones, and established the present favourite fashion of building; the gradations of which from splendour to extreme plainness are faithfully delineated in the prints which accompany this Volume. The examiner of those will find that our nobility and other rich persons can accommodate themselves to a house calculated for a man worth less than 200_l. per annum_, or occupy others of five times the dimensions.

We will now return to the more humble classes, and begin with some of the instances spared us by the fire of 1666. To describe those would be useless; prints are superior to the best description: the reader will have the goodness to consult them, and he will find old streets with the _projecting_ houses, and single old houses, and one or two sketches from the country to shew the Citizens' place of retirement[366:A].

Sir William Davenant drew a ludicrous yet true picture of antient London, which follows, and may be perused with double interest after a survey of the above old streets and houses, and their improved successors.

Building on left: _Erected in or before the reign of Queen Eliz._

_In Goswell street_

_Antient inconvenience contrasted with modern convenience_

Building on right: _Erected about 1800_]

"You of this noble City are yet to become more noble by your candour to the plea between me a _Bourgeois_ of Paris, and my opponent of London; being concerned in honour to lend your attention as favourably to a stranger as to your native orator, since it is the greatest sign of narrow education to permit the borders of rivers, or strands of seas, to separate the general consanguinity of Mankind, though the unquiet nature of Man (still hoping to shake off distant power), and the incapacity of any one to sway universal empire, hath made them the bounds to divide government. But already I think it necessary to cease persuading you, who will ever deserve to be my judges; and, therefore, mean to apply myself in admonishing him who is pleased to be awhile my adversary.

"My most opinionated antagonist (for a Londoner's opinion of himself is no less noted than his opinion of his Beef before the Veal of Italy), you should know that the merit of Cities consists not in their fair and fruitful situation, but in the manners of the Inhabitants; for, where the situation excels, it but upbraids their minds if they be not proportionable to it. And, because we should more except against the constancy of minds than their mutability, when they incline to error, I will first take a survey of yours in the long-continued deformity of the _shape_ of your City, which is of your buildings.

"Sure your ancestors contrived your narrow streets in the days of wheel-barrows, before those greater engines _Carts_ were invented. Is your climate so _hot_, that as you walk you need umbrellas of tiles to intercept the Sun? Or, are your shambles so empty, that you are afraid to take in fresh air, lest it should sharpen your stomachs? Oh, the _goodly_ Landscape of _Old Fish-street_! which, had it not had the ill-luck to be crooked, was narrow enough to have been your founder's perspective; and where the garrets (perhaps not for want of architecture, but, through _abundance of amity_) are so made, that opposite neighbours may shake hands without stirring from home. Is unanimity of inhabitants in wise Cities better expressed, than by their coherence and uniformity of building, where streets begin, continue, and end in a like stature and shape? But yours (as if they were raised in a general insurrection, _where every man hath a several design_) differ in all things that can make distinction. Here stands one that aims to be a _Palace_, and, next it, another that professes to be a _Hovel_. Here a Giant, there a Dwarf; here slender, there broad; and all most admirably different in their faces, as well as in their height and bulk. I was about to defy any Londoner, who dares pretend there is so much ingenious correspondence in this City, as that he can shew me one house like another. Yet your old houses seem to be reverend and formal, being compared to the fantastical works of the moderns; which have more ovals, niches, and angles, than are in your custards, and are enclosed with pasteboard walls, like those of malicious Turks, who, because themselves are not immortal, and cannot ever dwell where they build, therefore will not be at the charge to provide such lastingness as may entertain their children out of the rain; so slight and so prettily gaudy, that if they could move, they would pass for pageants. It is your custom, where men vary often the mode of their habits, to term the nation fantastical; but, where streets continually change fashion, you should make haste to chain up the City; for it is certainly mad.

"You would think me a malicious traveller, if I should still gaze on your mis-shapen Streets, and take no notice of the beauty of your River; therefore I will pass the importunate noise of your Watermen (who snatch at fares as if they were to catch prisoners, plying the gentry so uncivilly, as if they had never rowed any other passengers but Bear-wards), and now step into one of your pease-cod Boats, whose tilts are not so sumptuous as the roofs of Gondalo's, nor, when you are within, are you at the ease of _Chaise-a-bras_. The community and trade of your River belongs to yourselves; but give a Stranger leave to share in the pleasure of it; which will hardly be in the prospect or freedom of air, unless prospect consisting of variety be made with here a Palace, there a wood-yard, here a garden, there a brew-house. Here dwells a Lord, there a Dyer, and between both _Duomo Commune_. If freedom of air be inferred in the liberty of the subject, where every private man hath authority, for his own profit, to smoke up a Magistrate; then the air of your Thames is open enough, because it is equally free. I will forbear to visit your courtly neighbours at Wapping; not that it will make me giddy to shoot your Bridge, but that I am loth to disturb the _civil silence_ of Billingsgate, which is so great as if the Mariners were always landing to storm the Harbour; therefore, for brevity's sake, I will put to shore again, though I should be constrained, even without my Goloshoes, to land at Puddle-dock.

"I am now returned to visit your Houses, where the roofs (cielings) are so low, that I presume your ancestors were very mannerly, and stood bare to their wives (for I cannot discern how they could wear their high-crowned hats). Yet will I enter; and therefore oblige you much, when you know my aversion to the odour of a certain weed (Tobacco) that governs amongst your coarser acquaintance, as much as Lavender amongst your linen, to which, in my apprehension, your Sea-coal smoke seems a very Portugal perfume. I should here hasten to a period, for fear of suffocation, if I thought you so ungracious to use it in public assemblies; and yet I see it grow so much in fashion, that methinks your children begin to play with broken pipes, instead of corals, to make way for their teeth. You will find my visit short; I cannot stay to eat with you, because your bread is too heavy, and you disdain the slight sustenance of herbs: your drink is too thick, and yet you are seldom over-curious in washing your glasses. Nor will I lodge with you, because your beds seem, to our alcoves, no bigger than coffins; and your curtains so short, as they will hardly serve to inclose your Carriers in Summer; and may be held, if Taffata, to have lined your Grandsires shirts. But though your houses are thin, yet your kitchens are well lined with beef; and the plentiful exercise of your chimneys makes up that canopy of smoke which covers your City; whilst we on the Continent are well contented with a clear sky, entertain flesh as a regale; and we, your poor French frogs, are fain to sing to sallad. You boast that your servants feed better than masters at Paris; and we are satisfied when ours are better taught than fed. You allow yours idleness and high nourishment, to raise their mettle; which is, to make them rude for the honour of Old-England; we inure ours to labour and temperance, that we may allay them; which is to make them civil for the quiet of France. Yours drink malt, and the strong broth of malt, which makes them bold, hot, and adventurous to be soon in command: ours are cooled with weak water, which doth quench their arrogance, and makes them fit to obey long. We plant the Vineyard, and you drink the Wine; by which you beget good spirits, and we get good money. You keep open houses for all that bring you in mirth, till your estate run out of doors, and find new landlords: we shut our gate to all but such whose conversation brings in profit; and so, by the help of what you call ill-nature and parsimony, have the good luck to keep our inheritance for our issue.

"Before I leave you in your Houses (where your estates are managed by your servants, and your persons educated by your Wives), I will take a short survey of your Children: to whom you are so terrible, that you seem to make use of authority whilst they are young, as if you knew it would not continue till their manhood: you begin with them in such rough discipline, as if they were born mad, and you meant to fright them into their wits again before they had any to lose. When they increase in years, you make them strangers; keeping them at such distance, out of jealousy they should presume to be your companions, that, when they reach manhood, they use you as if they were none of your acquaintance. If you take pains to teach them any thing, it is only what they should not learn, bashfulness; which you interpret to be their respect to you, but it rather shews they are in trouble, and afraid of you; and not only of you, but all that are older than themselves; as if youth were a crime, or as if you had a greater quarrel to Nature than to the Devil. You seem to teach them to be ashamed of their persons, even when you are willing to excuse their faults. This education you give them at home; but though you have frequently the pride to disdain the behaviour of other nations, yet you have sometimes the discretion to send your sons abroad to learn it. To Paris they come, the school of Europe; where is taught the approaches and demeanours towards power; where they may learn honour, which is the generous honesty, which is the civil boldness of courts. But there they arrive not to converse with us, but themselves; to see the gates of the Court, not to enter and frequent it; or to take a hasty survey of greatness as far as envy, but not to study it as far as imitation; at last return home, despising those necessary virtues which they took not pains to acquire; and are only ill-altered in their dress and mind, by making that a deformity in seeming over-careful and forced, which we make graceful in being negligent and easy. I have now left your Houses, and am passing through your Streets; but not in a Coach, for they are uneasily hung, and so narrow that I took them for a Sedan upon wheels: nor is it safe for a stranger to use them, till the quarrel be decided, whether six of your nobles, sitting together, shall stop, and give place to as many barrels of beer. Your City is the only Metropolis of Europe where there is a wonderful dignity belonging to Carts. Master Londoner, be not so hot against Coaches: take advice from one who eats much sorrel in his broth. Can you be too civil to such gentry as bravely scorn to be provident?--who, when they have no business here to employ them, nor public pleasures to divert them, yet even then kindly invent occasions to bring them hither, that at your own rates they may change their land for our wares, and have purposely avoided the coarse study of arithmetick, lest they should be able to affront you with examining your accompts.

"I wonder at your riches, when I see you drink in a morning; but more at your confidence, when I see gray-beards come out of a tavern, and stay at the door to make the last debate of their business; and I am yet more amazed at your health, when I taste your wine; but most of all at your politicks, in permitting such public poisoning, under the style of free mystery, to encourage trade and diligence.

"I would now make a safe retreat, but that methinks I am stopped by one of your heroic games, called _Foot-ball_; which I conceive (under your favour) not very conveniently civil in the streets, especially in such irregular and narrow roads as _Crooked-lane_. Yet it argues your courage much like your military pastime of Throwing at Cocks. But your mettle would be more magnified (since you have long allowed those valiant exercises in the street) to draw your Archers from Finsbury, and, during high market, let them shoot at butts in Cheapside. I have now no more to say but what refers to a few private notes, which I shall give you in a whisper when we meet in Moorfields; from whence (because the place was for public pleasure, and to shew the magnificence of your City) I shall desire you to banish the laundresses and bleachers, whose acres of old linen make a show like the fields of Carthagena, when the five months' shifts of the whole fleet are washed and spread."

The following letter from the celebrated Erasmus to Dr. Francis, Physician to Cardinal Wolsey, will afford a disgusting view of the interior of common dwellings in the reign of Henry VIII.:

"I often wonder, and not without concern, whence it comes to pass, that England for so many years hath been continually afflicted with pestilence; and above all with the sweating-sickness, which seems in a manner peculiar to that country. We read of a City which was delivered from a plague of long continuance, by altering the buildings according to the advice of a certain philosopher. I am much mistaken, if England, by the same method, might not find a cure. First of all, they are totally regardless concerning the aspect of their doors and windows to the East, North, &c. Then they build their chambers so that they admit not a thorough air, which yet, in Galen's opinion, is very necessary. They glaze a great part of the sides with small panes, designed to admit the light and exclude the wind; but these windows are full of chinks, through which enters a percolated air, which, stagnating in the room, is more noxious than the wind.

"As to the floors, _they are usually made of clay, covered with rushes_ that grew in fens, which are so slightly removed now and then, that the lower part remains _sometimes for twenty years together_, and in it a collection of spittle, vomit, urine of dogs and men, beer, scraps of fish, and other filthiness not to be named. Hence, upon change of weather, a vapour is exhaled, very pernicious, in my opinion, to the human body. Add to this, that England is not only surrounded with the sea, but in many parts is fenny, and intersected with streams of a brackish water; and that salt fish is the common and the favourite food of the poor. I am persuaded that the Island would be far more healthy, if the use of these rushes were quite laid aside, and the chambers so built as to let in the air on two or three sides, with such glass windows as might be either thrown quite open, or kept quite shut, without small crannies to let in the wind. For, as it is useful sometimes to admit a free air, so is it sometimes to exclude it. The common people laugh at a man who complains that he is affected by changeable and cloudy weather; but, for my part, for these thirty years past, if I ever entered into a room which had been uninhabited for some months, immediately I grew feverish. It would also be of great benefit, if the lower people could be persuaded to eat less of their salt fish; and if public officers were appointed to see that the streets were kept free from mud and ----, and that not only in the City, but in the Suburbs. You will smile, perhaps, and think that my time lies upon my hands, since I employ it in such speculations; but I have a great affection for a country which received me so hospitably for a considerable time, and I shall be glad to end the remainder of my days in it if it be possible. Though I know you to be better skilled in these things than I pretend to be, yet I could not forbear from giving you my thoughts, that, if we are both of a mind, you may propose the project to men in authority; since even Princes have not thought such regulations to be beneath their inspection."

The tyrant who then reigned could not plead ignorance of the causes which almost depopulated London. A physician cannot offend when he talks of health to his patron. Wolsey must have heard the above truths repeated by Francis, and the _name_ of Erasmus must have enforced his arguments: the haughty Cardinal accomplished far more unworthy objects with his master than a consideration of the health of his people would have been; therefore each were criminal in not doing that for the benefit of the publick which a nod from absolute power could effect. A despicable disregard of decency evidently prevailed in the royal breasts of the Monarchs who reigned between the Conquest and the great Fire; the plague, the leprosy, and the sweating-sickness, reigned with them; filth in the dark confined streets, and filth in every house, made infection eternal; and yet not one step appears to have been taken in obedience to instinct--Instinct makes a man inimical to dirt.

Heaven be praised, old London _was burnt_. Good reader, turn to the views, in order to see what it has been; observe those hovels convulsed; imagine the chambers within them, and wonder why the plague, the leprosy, and the sweating-sickness, raged. Turn then to the prints illustrative of our present dwellings, and be happy.

The misery of 1665 must have operated on the minds of the Legislature and the Citizens, when they rebuilt and inhabited their houses. The former enacted many salutary clauses for the preservation of health, and would have done more, had not the publick rejected that which was for their benefit; those who preferred high habitations and narrow dark streets had them. It is only to be lamented, that we are compelled to suffer for their folly. These errors are now frequently partially removed by the exertion of the Corporation of London; but a complete reformation is impossible.

It is a fallacy to say that the New River now exclusively _prevents_ infectious disorders by the distribution of its water through the City, as it is well known to have been introduced to the houses very many years before 1665. It is to the improved dwellings composed of brick, the wainscot or papered walls, the high cielings, the boarded floors, and large windows, and cleanliness, that we are indebted for the general preservation of health since 1666. From that auspicious year the very existence of the natives of London improved; their bodies moved in a large space of pure air; and, finding every thing clean and new around them, they determined to keep them so. Previously-unknown luxuries and improvements in furniture were suggested; and a man of moderate fortune saw his house vie with, nay superior to, the old palaces of his governors. When he paced his streets, he felt the genial Western breeze pass him, rich with the perfumes of the country, instead of the stench described by Erasmus; and looking upward, he beheld the beautiful blue of the air, variegated with fleecy clouds, in place of projecting black beams and plaster, obscured by vapour and smoke. But there were other blessings, which he thought not of, that are attained by his successors; and those I shall proceed to describe chronologically, after introducing the assertions of M. de Grosley on the state of London with respect to Cleanliness _circa_ 1750. That gentleman observes, in his Tour to London, that "the plate, hearth-stones (generally marble), moveables, apartments, doors, stairs, the very street-doors, their locks, and the large brass knockers (almost exclusively iron at present), are every day washed, scowered, or rubbed. Even in lodging-houses, the middle of the stairs is often covered with carpeting, to prevent them from being soiled. All the apartments in the house have mats or carpets; and the use of them has been adopted some years since by the French."

The streets of London must have been dangerously dark during the winter nights before it was burnt: lanterns with candles were very sparingly scattered, nor was light much better distributed even in the new streets previous to the last century.

Globular lamps were introduced by Michael Cole, who obtained a patent July 1708; a copy of the docquet for which follows: "A grant unto Michael Cole, gent. of the sole use and benefit in England and Ireland of his invention of a _new kind of Light_, composed of one entire glass of a globular shape, with a lamp, which will give a clearer and more certain light from all parts thereof, without any dark shadows or what else may be confounding or troublesome to the sight, than any other Lamps that have hitherto been in use: To hold to the said Michael Cole, his executors, administrators, and assigns, during the term of fourteen years; with a proviso, that the said invention shall not before the determination of the term of twenty-one years (which commenced June 24, 1694) be used within the City of London, or the liberties thereof, to the prejudice of the proprietors of the public glass lights called _Convex lights, now used_ in the said City and liberties thereof; and such other provisos, prohibitions, and clauses are inserted, as were directed by warrant under her Majesty's Royal sign manual. Subscribed by Mr. Solicitor General.

"JOHN WOODESON,
_Dep. to Sir_ GEORGE PIERS, _Bart._"

Cole first exhibited his Globe Lamp at the door of the St. James's Coffee-house in 1709, and attended there to answer queries relating to it. He afterwards offered to dispose of his patent for the benefit of this Kingdom, as he resided in Ireland.

The ensuing report was made September 17, 1736, by Alderman Alsop and Godschall, and eight Common Council-men, appointed a Committee to consider in what manner the Act of Parliament "for the better enlightening the streets of London" might be put in execution.

"There were 1287 houses under the rent of 10_l. per annum_; 4741 of 10_l._ and under 20_l._; 3045 of 20_l._ and under 30_l._; 1849 of 30_l._ and under 40_l._; and 3092 of 40_l._ and upwards. In all 14,014 houses, then inhabited and chargeable; which were about 400 less than the Committee imagined. The number of lamps required was 4200, exclusive of those wanted for public buildings and void places, fixed at twenty-five yards distance on each side of the way in the high streets, and at thirty-five in lesser streets, lanes, &c. The several Wards of the City agreed for the lighting them at an average of 41_s. per annum per_ lamp, at which rate the expence of the 4200 amounted to 8610_l._ The fixing of those on posts and irons, averaged at 14_s._ 6_d._ each, 3045_l._; total expence 5628_l._ The rates to supply which sum were fixed as follows: Houses under 10_l._--3_s._ 6_d. per annum_; under 20_l._--7_s._ 6_d._; under 30_l._--8_s._; under 40_l._--9_s._ 6_d._; upwards of 40_l._--12_s._"

The above particulars will be sufficient to explain the manner in which London and Westminster is now lighted. The only variety that has since occurred is, the converting of the shape of the lamps from a globular form to that of a bell, and affixing them to the iron railing of the area and houses. Several attempts to introduce strong reflectors have failed, as it has been uniformly found that they injure and confuse the sight.

The shop-keepers of London are of infinite service to the rest of the inhabitants by their liberal use of the Patent Lamp, to shew their commodities during the long evenings of winter. The parish lamps glimmer above them, and are hardly distinguishable before ten o'clock.

The first essential improvement of London, after the re-building of the City, was the filling of Fleet-ditch, and forming the streets where the market is situated; and the next, the continuation of the plan to Blackfriars-bridge. The latter was suggested by the success of Westminster-bridge; and the removal of the houses and widening of the arches of London-bridge proceeded from perceiving the neat appearance and superior accommodations of the new ones.

The following is a list of "Openings to be made in the City of London, pursuant to an Act of Parliament" passed in the Session of 1760.

"In Aldersgate Ward. A passage twenty feet wide, from the
East side of Aldersgate-street (opposite to Little Britain)
to the West of Noble-street, opposite to Oat-lane; and
through Wood-street, opposite to Love-lane.

In Aldgate Ward. A passage fifty feet wide, from the Mason's
shop facing Crutched-friars, in a direct line to the Minories.

A passage, twenty-five feet wide, through
Northumberland-alley, into Crutched-friars.

In Bishopsgate Ward. A passage, twenty-five feet wide,
through Angel-court, in Bishopsgate-street, into Little St.
Helen's.

A passage, twenty feet wide, from Broad-street, through
Union-court, into Bishopsgate-street.

In Coleman-street Ward. A passage, fifty feet wide, from
Tokenhouse-yard to London-wall.

In Farringdon Ward Within. A passage through Cock-alley, on
Ludgate-hill, opposite to the Old Bailey, forty feet wide,
into Blackfriars.

A passage, twenty-five feet wide, from Butcher-hall-lane,
into Little-Britain.

In Farringdon Ward Without. A passage, thirty feet wide, in
the middle of Snow-hill, to the Fleet-market.

_The following passages are to be improved and enlarged._

In Aldgate Ward. The East side of Billiter-lane, to enlarge
the passage thirty feet.

The East end of Leadenhall-street, to be thirty-five feet
wide.

Part of the houses on the East side of Poor Jewry-lane,
beginning at the North side of the Horse and Trumpet, and
extending to Gould-square, to range in a line with that
end of the lane next to Aldgate; the passage to be made
thirty-five feet wide.

In Broad-street Ward. The House to be pulled down at
the West end of the buildings between Cornhill and
Threadneedle-street, opposite to the South end of
Princes-street, and the ground laid into the street.

Houses to be pulled down on the South side of
Threadneedle-street, extending from the house
before-mentioned Eastward, till that part of the street
opposite to the Bank gates; and the passage there enlarged to
thirty-five feet in width.

Coleman-street Ward. One house on the N. E. corner of
the Old Jewry, and another house at the S. W. corner of
Coleman-street, and the ground laid into the street.

Cordwainers' Ward. The house at the N. E. corner of
Trinity-lane, near the Dog Tavern, and the ground laid into
the street.

In Cornhill Ward. The house at the West end of the buildings
between Cornhill and Lombard-street, and the ground laid into
the street.

In Cripplegate Ward Within. The houses which project
forwards at the West end of Silver-street, from the end of
Monkwell-street, quite through into Aldersgate-street, to
make a street forty feet wide.

The house at the corner of Aldermanbury, facing Milk-street,
and the ground laid into the street.

In Farringdon Ward Within. The Tin-shop and the Trunk-maker's
house, at the S. W. corner of Cheapside, leading into St.
Paul's Church-yard, and the ground laid into the street.

Such part of the houses in Creed-lane as are necessary to
widen the passage to thirty feet.

In Farringdon Ward Without. All the houses in Middle-row
between the paved alley, adjoining to St. Sepulchre's church
and Giltspur-street, from the North end quite through to the
South end, facing Hart-street, and the ground laid into the
street.

All the houses in Middle-row, between the Great and Little
Old Bailey, from the North end facing Hart-street, to the
Baptist's Head at the South end, facing the Great Old Bailey,
and the ground laid into the street.

The shops under St. Dunstan's church in Fleet-street, and the
ground laid into the street.

In Langbourn Ward. Such part of the houses at the end of
Mark-lane, next to Fenchurch-street, as will make the passage
there thirty feet wide.

Such part of the houses at the East end of Lombard-street, as
will make the passage there thirty feet wide.

In Portsoken Ward. The house at the N. E. corner of
Houndsditch, adjoining to the church-yard, and the ground
laid into the street.

In Tower Ward. Such part of the houses on St. Dunstan's-hill,
adjoining to the George Alehouse, and opposite to the Chain,
and such part of the warehouses opposite to the end of St.
Dunstan's Church, as will make the passage thirty feet wide.

The house on the N. W. corner of Great Tower-street, and
also the house on the S. E. corner of Little Tower-street,
occupied by Messrs. Julon and Lidner, to make a convenient
passage.

The house in Mark-lane which adjoins to All-hallows Staining,
and projects twelve feet before the other houses, to make
it range in a line with the other houses, and enlarge the
passage.

In Vintry Ward. The houses on the North side of Thames-street
which reach from Elbow-lane to College-hill, and also those
on the South side of the said street which reach from
Vintner's-hall to Bull-wharf-lane, in order to make the
street forty feet wide.

The house at the corner of Tower-royal, facing College-hill,
to be pulled down, and the ground laid into the street.

In Walbrook Ward. The house at the N. E. corner of
Bucklersbury, which projects before the other buildings.

In Bishopsgate Ward. The two houses between New Broad-street
and New Broad-street-buildings."

The removal of all the City Gates promoted a better circulation of air; and London Wall gave place near Moorgate to a fine new street.

It has ever been the practice of the London builders to erect houses at the least possible expence, because their tenures are almost exclusively leasehold. Hence it is that the Editors of the Newspapers of the last century were compelled from time to time to notice the horrid effects produced by the fall of those frail buildings. I am fully convinced, that not less than one hundred lives have been lost in this way between 1700 and 1807; and that at least three times as many persons were maimed. The publick justly condemned the supineness of their officials in not preventing occurrences of this description; and the compilers of the London Chronicle say in October 1760, "In one of the morning papers is a complaint of the present method of letting leases of the City Lands, and other estates of public bodies. It is not sufficient to build Bridges; it is not enough to widen and improve Streets and Passages: no, we should examine farther. Consider what the Houses are: they are all superannuated; the City is worn out; the major part of the houses have stood much longer than they should, _many years longer than they were built for_; and, instead of being rebuilt as the leases expire, or any thing done to aggrandise and render the City conspicuous, equal to the other improvements, they are advertised again on repairing leases, and are so shamefully propped up from time to time that the City must come to decay: nay, it will be even hazardous to walk the streets."

Though the latter assertion rather exceeds the truth, it will be recollected that Houghton-street Clare-market, Wapping, the neighbourhood of Bishopsgate-street, and Billingsgate, have very recently proved that fatal consequences attend the parsimony of those landlords who repair when they should rebuild; and I think I may safely declare that there are at this moment at least 3000 houses in a dangerous state of ruin within London and Westminster, which may hereafter make their owners repent the indulgence of their avarice. He that observes the present miserable representatives of bricks and _dirt_ mortar constantly ascending in tottering piles around him, cannot wonder that houses sometimes fall with their own weight ere they are finished; and he must anticipate future consequences. The Legislature wisely enacted regulations to prevent the communication of accidental fires; but more remains to be done--let them ordain that bricks and mortar should hereafter be of a certain standard, under a heavy fine and imprisonment; and that surveyors should be appointed to order the demolition of new houses built in opposition to the clauses of the Act.