Holdsworth, as he desired." The church of Allhallows, Lombardstreet, partially escaped the Fire, but was not considered, after careful examination, to be secure enough to stand, even when the body of the old church had been coped with "straw and lime." The present building is by Wren, and contains nothing remarkable. The other church, St. Edward the King, is worth a visit, on account of one or two pictures it contains, together with some beautiful modern specimens of stained glass. Externally, we see nothing striking in the building.

Birchin-lane was in former times the Holywell-street of London, so far as regarded the sale of second-hand garments. The church of St. Mary's, in Abchurch-lane (that portion on the opposite side of King William-street), is mentioned, as follows, in the old pamphlet: "Mr. Stone plundered, sent prisoner, by sea, to Plymouth, and sequestered." It was built by Wren, contains some excellent carving by Gibbons, and the cupola is painted by the artist who decorated the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral. St. Clement's, in Clement's-lane, is another of Wren's churches; and the living appears to have been held by the same Mr. Stone who held that of St. Mary's, Abchurch, at the commencement of the Civil War; for under the name of the last-mentioned church we find the same entry, with the addition that "Mr. Stone was shamefully abused."

With Gracechurch-street and Fish-street-hill we close this section of our work. Gracechurch-street, with its conduit, is often mentioned in the old processions. In 1501, when Catherine of Spain entered the city by London-bridge, a pageant was erected in the broadest part of "Grasschurch-street, in the middle of the street, where the water runneth into the channel”- a primitive way of draining the street. In the time of Elizabeth, it was changed from Grasschurch-street to Gracious-street; and Dekker, in describing a royal procession in 1604, says, "it was never worthy of that name (Graciousstreet) it carries till this houre." It is a great mustering-ground for omnibuses, especially such as come from the Surrey side of the river.

The church at the end of Fenchurch-street is called St. Bennet's: it was built by Wren. William Harrison was minister" of Grace Church, and one who signed his name to the following remonstrance, headed, "The Dissenting Ministers' Vindication of themselves from the horrid and detestable Murder of King Charles the First, of glorious memory:" London, 1648. Calamy also signed the "Vindication." In no instance is the saint's name affixed by them to the churches; some sign themselves "pastor," one minister of the word," another "preacher." We must do these old Puritans the justice to state, that this remonstrance was signed before the execution of King Charles,

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and during the time of his trial, namely, January 28, 1648, that is, two days before the ill-starred monarch was beheaded. We give the following spirited extract from this old pamphlet, the whole of which only consists of six pages: "We hold ourselves bound in duty to God, religion, the King, parliament, and kingdom, to profess before God, angels, and men, that we verily believe that which is so much feared to be now in agitation—the taking away the life of the King, in the present way of tryal-is not only not agreeable to any word of God, the principles of the Protestant religion (never yet stained with the least drop of the blood of a king), or the fundamental constitution and government of this kingdom, but contrary to them, as also to the oath of allegiance, the protestation of May 5th, 1641, and the solemn 'League and Covenant;' from all or any of which engagements, we know not any power on earth able to absolve us or others."

The Monument on Fish-street-hill, which was designed by Wren, is about 200 feet high, and stands as many feet distant from the spot where the Fire first commenced on that awful Sunday, September 2, 1666, in Pudding-lane. The ascent is by 345 steps up a spiral staircase, lighted by what we might term, in old castellated architecture, arrow-slits. The interior of the column is nine feet wide. Several persons have committed suicide, by throwing themselves off the Monument; and it is now covered in with a kind of cage-work, to prevent such awful self-destruction. The view from the summit is not to be compared with that from St. Paul's; and we should advise all sight-lovers to ascend the Monument first, on that account, and peep at the "wilderness of shipping," and the thousands of houseroofs that rise in ridging disorder, as if some dark sea had suddenly been struck motionless, and so left silent with all its edged waves. On one side of the base is the following inscription of the destruction caused by the Great Fire, according to the translation of Maitland: "Eighty-nine churches, the city gates, Guildhall (not totally), many public structures, hospitals, schools, libraries; a vast number of stately edifices, 13,500 dwelling-houses, 400 streets; of twenty-six wards it utterly destroyed fifteen, and left eight others shattered and half burnt. The ruins of the city were 436 acres, from the Tower by the Thames side to the Temple Church, and from the north-east gate along the city wall to Holborn-bridge. To the estates and fortunes of the citizens it was merciless, but to their lives very favourable (only eight being lost)." One poet of the period, in be-rhyming the praiseworthy conduct of King Charles at the Great Fire, compares him to Cæsar, coming "with buckets in his eyes." Pepys gives an interesting account of the Great Fire. Dryden also describes it in his Annus Mirabilis, commencing at verse 212.

CHAPTER IV.

THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF BILLINGSGATE, NEW COAL EXCHANGE,
AND TOWER OF LONDON.

LL doubts about the immense population of
London would vanish from the mind of

a stranger could he but stand on London Bridge Wharf, and see the vast multitudes that embark on the steamers, either at Easter or Whitsuntide, for Greenwich alone he would behold such a sight as would convince him that no other city in the world could pour forth so many inhabitants; and all he had before seen would sink into insignificance beside what he would witness on the Thames, to say nothing of the numerous railways which throw out their iron arms into the country from almost every corner of the metropolis. It is a sight never to be forgotten, to see the steamers darting in and out amid the shipping below London Bridge, as if they had wills of their own, and could pick their way wherever there was space enough for them to pass, like aquatic birds that ever keep sailing around each other playfully upon the waters. Eastward they hurry along to Woolwich, Erith, Gravesend, Sheerness, Herne Bay, Margate, and all the towns that dot our coast; while others move westward, under the bridges, and along the whole length of the river-front of London, on their way to Twickenham and Richmond: many of the smaller steamers also halting at almost every pretty village that stands on the banks of the Thames between London and Richmond. But we are wandering away from the neighbourhood we have now reached, and glancing at subjects which belong to the suburbs of the metropolis.

The church at the entrance of this wharf is called St. Magnus, and was rebuilt by Wren. Miles Coverdale, whose name is associated with the earliest printed version of the holy Bible, was rector of St. Magnus above 300 years ago. He was buried in the church of St.

Bartholomew, by the Exchange; and when that building was taken down to enlarge the space for the new Royal Exchange, his remains were removed to the present church, and re-interred on the spot which he had hallowed by his pious labours. But few who look at the projecting clock, as they await the arrival or departure of the steamboats, are aware that the remains of Miles Coverdale, Bishop of Exeter, and one among the first translators of the Bible, rest so near the stir and traffic of that busy wharf.

The first turning on the opposite side of the way, behind the Monument, is Pudding-lane, in which the Great Fire that destroyed nearly the whole of the City first broke out. It now contains nothing worthy of our notice: the same may be said of Botolph-lane, so called from the church which was destroyed in the Fire and never rebuilt.

On St. Mary's-hill stands a church partly built by Wren, and called St. Mary's-at-Hill. On the 29th of May 1533, according to Hall's Chronicle, "the mayor and his brethren, all in scarlet, such as were knights having collars of SS, and the remainder gold chains, and the council of the City with them, assembled at St. Mary's-hill, and at one o'clock took barge. The barges of the companies amounted in number to fifty, and set forth in the following order: First, at a good distance before the mayor's barge, was a foist or wafter, full of ordnance, having in the midst a dragon, continually moving and casting wild fire, and round about it terrible monsters and wild men casting fire and making hideous noises." This procession, that embarked at the foot of St. Mary's-hill, above 300 years ago, was "commanded" by Henry VIII. to go to Greenwich and bring Queen Anne Boleyn to London, to be crowned in Westminster Hall.

It is on record that the old ports or quays of Billingsgate and Queenhithe were the cause of as many squabbles in ancient days as were ever witnessed in our own times by any two rival companies struggling for pre-eminence; for when the customs derived from the latter furnished the queen of Henry III. with pin-money, a sharp look-out was kept on the river, and fines frequently inflicted on masters of vessels who landed their fish at Billingsgate instead of the royal quay. But great London soon burst through all these restraints: the old merchants were proof against even royal mandates; they objected to passing through the dangerous arches of the crazy old bridge -so at last obtained the privilege of landing goods at whichever quay they pleased.

Those ancient fishmongers must have been able to muster together a goodly company; for, hearing of the victory Edward I. had obtained over the Scots, they paraded the City with above a thousand horsemen, trumpets sounding and banners streaming, on which were emblazoned

their quaint old arms, and followed by all the pride of their honour

able guild.

What a stir there must have been about Fish-street and Fish-streethill, and all along the line of those streets which we have already described, when that famous fishmonger Walworth, Lord Mayor of London, slew Wat Tyler in Smithfield, and thus at one blow cut off the "head and front" of the great rebellion! What a running to and fro and shaking of hands there must have been! What talking along the quays about privileges which would be extended to their own company, and which none other would be allowed to share! And what disappointment must have been depicted on their countenances when they found that all the reward the City was to receive was an addition to its arms! If true, it was like giving the chaff to him that had separated it from the wheat.

Those who were purveyors to the court had, in former times, the first pickings of the market; not a single fish was allowed to be sold until they had been served. We can picture the swagger with which the officers of the royal household entered the fish-market in those days, when a banquet was about to be given in the Tower. What pushing and cramming would there be to obtain a nod of recognition! now recommending the quality of some fish, then inquiring when the next execution would take place-their conversation shifting from salmon to the scaffold-from oysters, which, in those primitive times, sold for twopence a bushel, to the means of obtaining the best place when the next nobleman was to be beheaded.

There was a struggle for free-trade in those high narrow streets five hundred years ago; from Billingsgate to Queenhithe all was a scene of commotion; for the great fishmongers were aiming at monopoly, but the poor hawkers who picked up their living, as they do in our day, by crying fish in the streets, rose in a body, and so far carried the day that they were allowed to hawk fish, but not to keep a stall, nor stay in any of the streets a moment longer than while supplying their chance customers; for there was a strict police ever on the lookout after the poor hawkers, and the command of " Now then, move on there," is nothing new. Nor were the fishmongers themselves free from "most biting laws;" for they were only allowed, at one period, to take a penny profit in every shilling, not to offer the same fish for sale (as fresh) a second day, nor to water their fish more than twice a day. If they did, and were found out, there stood the stocks ever in readiness, and up went the beam, and in went their legs; and there they were compelled to sit out the given time, no doubt to the great merriment of many of the bystanders. Their stalls in these primitive times were only boards placed beside the pavement. From these they