London Bridge is broken down, How shall we build it up again? Dance o'er my Lady Lee; How shall we build it up again? Silver and gold will be stolen away, Dance o'er my Lady Lee; Silver and gold will be stolen away, Build it up with iron and steel, Dance o'er my Lady Lee; Build it up with iron and steel, Iron and steel will bend and bow, Dance o'er my Lady Lee; Iron and steel will bend and bow, With a gay lady. Build it up with wood and clay, Dance o'er my Lady Lee; With a gay lady. Wood and clay will wash away, Dance o'er my Lady Lee; With a gay lady. Build it up with stone so strong, Dance o'er my Lady Lee; Huzza! 'twill last for ages long, Another copy of this ballad contains the following stanzas, wanting in Ritson's, and coming in immediately after the third verse," Silver and gold will be stolen away;" though the propositions for building this Bridge with iron and steel, and wood and stone, have, in this copy also, already been made and objected to. Then we must set a man to watch, Dance o'er my Lady Lea; Then we must set a man to watch, Suppose the man should fall asleep, Suppose the man should fall asleep, Then we must put a pipe in his mouth, Then we must put a pipe in his mouth, Suppose the pipe should fall and break, Suppose the pipe should fall and break, Then we must set a dog to watch, Dance o'er my Lady Lea; Then we must set a dog to watch, With a gay La-dee. Suppose the dog should run away, With a gay La-dee. Then we must chain him to a post, Dance o'er my Lady Lea; Then we must chain him to a post, In these verses it will be observed how singularly and happily the burthen of the song often falls in with the subject of the new line; though, probably, the whole ballad has been formed by making fresh additions, in a long series of years, and is, perhaps, almost interminable when received in all its different versions. The stanzas last quoted are the introductory lines of an old ballad, which the copyist, more than seventy years previously, had heard plaintively warbled by a lady who was born in the reign of Charles II., and who lived till nearly that of George II. Another copyist observes that the ballad concerning London Bridge formed, in his remembrance, part of a Christmas carol, and commenced thus: Dame, get up and bake your pies, On Christmas-day in the morning: "The requisition," he continues, "goes on to the Dame to prepare for the feast, and her answer is London Bridge is broken down, On Christmas-day in the morning. These lines are from a Newcastle carol: the inference has always been that, until the Bridge was rebuilt, some stop would be put to Dame Christmas's operations; but why the falling of a part of London Bridge should form part of a Christmas carol at Newcastleupon-Tyne, is a connection, doubtless, long since gathered into the wallet which Time carries at his back, wherein he puts alms for oblivion, though we may remark that the history and features of the old Bridge of that famous town had a very close resemblance to that of London. The author of the Chronicles of London Bridge refers the composition of the ballad to some very ancient date, when, London Bridge lying in ruins, the office of Bridge Master was vacant; and his power over the river Lee-for it is, doubtless, that river which is celebrated in the chorus to this song,-was for a while at an end. The ancient Music to the Song is preserved: it has been adapted to the feet as well as the tongue: about sixty years ago, one moonlight night, in a street in Bristol, was heard a dance and chorus of boys and girls, to which the words of this Ballad gave measure. The breaking down of the Bridge was announced as the dancers moved round in a circle, hand-in-hand; the question, 'How shall we build it up again?' was chaunted by the leader, whilst the rest stood still." NOTED RESIDENTS ON OLD LONDON BRIDGE. SEVERAL traditional mistakes have been perpetuated, as to persons supposed to have dwelt upon London Bridge. Thus, the author of Wine and Walnuts tells us that John Bunyan resided for some time upon the Bridge, though we fail to discover any such circumstance in either of the lives of that good man now extant; but he certainly preached for some time at a chapel in Southwark. Perhaps, however, the first assertion may be explained by a passage in the Preface to "The Labours of that eminent Servant of Christ, Mr. John Bunyan," London, 1692, folio, where it is stated that in 1688, he published six books, being the time of James II.'s liberty of conscience, and was seized with a sweating distemper, which, after his some weeks' going about, proved his death at his very loving friend's, Mr. Strudwick's, a grocer-at the sign of the Star-" at Holborn Bridge, London, on August 31st." It is also recorded on the same page of Wine and Walnuts, that Master Abel, the great importer of wines, was another of the marvels of old London Bridge; he set up a sign," Thank God, I am Abel," quoth the wag, and had in front of his house the sign of a bell. It is possible there may be some traditionary authority for this story; but in the very rare tracts relating to Alderman Abel, preserved in the British Museum, there is nothing concerning his residence on London Bridge. The same chapter contains some authentic notices of Artists who really did live upon the venerable edifice. Of these, one of the most eminent was Hans Holbein, the great painter of the Court of Henry VIII.; though we can hardly suppose that he inhabited the Nonesuch House, yet his actual residence is certified by Lord Orford, in his Anecdotes of Painting, as follows: "The father of the Lord Treasurer Oxford, passing over London Bridge, was caught in a shower, and stepping into a goldsmith's shop for shelter, he found there a picture of Holbein,-who had lived in that house,and his family. He offered the goldsmith 1007. for it, who consented to let him have it, but desired first to show it to some persons. Immediately after happened the great Fire of London, and the picture was destroyed.' Another famous Artist of London Bridge was Peter Monamy, so excellent a painter of marine subjects as to be considered but little inferior to Vandevelde himself. Lord Orford says of him, that "he received his first rudiments of drawing from a sign and house painter on London Bridge;" and that "the shallow waves that rolled under his window, taught young Monamy what his master could not teach him, and fitted him to paint the turbulence of the ocean." Edwards, in his Continuation of Walpole's Anecdotes, tells us that Dominic Serres, the marine painter, who died in 1793, once kept shop on London Bridge. To these may be added Jack Laguerre, the engraver, a great humourist, wit, singer, player, caricaturist, mimic, and a good scene-painter, son of that Louis, who painted |