This Office is now kept in Lombard Street, formerly in Bishopsgate
Street; the profits of it are by Act of Parliament settled on his
Royal Highness the Duke of York. But the King, by Letters Patents,
under the Great Seal of England, constitutes the Postmaster General.
From this General Office, letters and packets are despatched—
_On Mondays._
To France, Spain, Italy, Germany, Flanders, Switzerland, Denmark,
Kent, and the Downs.
_On Tuesdays._
To Holland, Germany, Switzerland, Denmark, Ireland, Scotland, and
all parts of England and Wales.
_On Wednesdays._
To all parts of Kent and the Downs.
_On Thursdays._
To France, Spain, Italy, and all parts of England and Scotland.
_On Fridays._
To Flanders, Germany, Italy, Switzerland, Denmark Holland, Kent, and
the Downs.
_On Saturdays._
All parts of England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland.
Letters are returned from all parts of England and Scotland,
certainly every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday; from Wales every
Monday and Friday; and from Kent and the Downs every day; but from
other parts more uncertainly, in regard of the sea.
A letter containing a whole sheet of paper is convey'd 80 miles for
2d., two sheets for 4d., and an ounce of letters for 8d., and so
proportionably; a letter containing a sheet is conveyed above 80
miles for 3d., two sheets for 6d., and every ounce of letters for
12d. A sheet is conveyed to Dublin for 6d., two for 1^s/-, and an
ounce of letters for 12d.
This conveyance by post is done in so short a time, by night as well
as by day, that every twenty-four hours the post goes 120 miles, and
in five days an answer of a letter may be had from a place 300 miles
distant from the writer.
Moreover, if any gentleman desire to ride post, to any principal
town of England, post-horses are always in readiness (taking no
horse without the consent of his owner), which in other Kings'
reigns was not duly observed; and only 3d. is demanded for every
English mile, and for every stage to the post-boy, 4d. for
conducting.
Beside this excellent convenience of conveying letters, and men on
horseback, there is of late such an admirable commodiousness both
for men and women of better rank, to travel from London, and to
almost all the villages near this great City, that the like hath not
been known in the world, and that is by stage-coaches, wherein one
may be transported to any place, sheltered from foul weather, and
foul ways, free from endamaging one's health or body by hard
jogging, or over-violent motion; and this not only at a low price,
as about a 1^s/- for every 5 miles, but with such velocity and
speed as that the posts in some foreign countries make not more
miles in a day; for the stage-coaches, called the flying-coaches,
make 40 or 50 miles in a day, as from London to Oxford or Cambridge,
and that in the space of twelve hours, not counting the time for
dining, setting forth not too early, nor coming in too late.
LONDON AFTER JAMES II.'s ABDICATION (1688).
The citizens of London took a prominent part in the exciting events of
the years 1688-89. In no part of the country was there a stronger
anti-Popish feeling, and none of the believers and propagators of the
notorious Popish Plot of Titus Oates had been so conspicuous as the
Londoners. They took the lead in the demonstrations which attended the
issue of the famous trial of the seven Bishops, and were foremost in
suggesting the practicability of expelling James from the throne. As
soon as the King realised his danger, he sent for the Lord Mayor and the
Aldermen, and informed them of his determination to restore the City
Charter and privileges, which had been confiscated by Charles II. He
hoped by this to gain the powerful support of the citizens, who,
however, were not to be bought by this tardy act of justice. The Court
of Common Council sent an address to the Prince of Orange, promising him
a welcome reception; and the Corporation waited on him, on his arrival
in London, with an ardent address of congratulation.
The feelings of the mob, always fierce when roused by any unusual event,
appear to have led them to somewhat violent measures in their
expressions of hatred towards Roman Catholics. A similar panic, attended
by similar outbreaks, was witnessed in 1780, when proposals to grant
some relief to Papists caused the "Gordon Riots."
=Source.=—_The London Mercury_, December 12, 1688.
No sooner was the King's withdrawing known, but the mob consulted to
wreak their vengeance on papists and popery; and last night began
with pulling down and burning the new-built Mass-house near the
arch, in Lincoln's Inn Fields: thence they went to Wild-house, the
residence of the Spanish Ambassador, where they ransacked, destroyed
and burnt all the ornamental and inside part of the chapel, some
cartloads of choice books, manuscript, etc. And not content here,
some villanous thieves and common rogues, no doubt, took this
opportunity to mix with the youth, and they plunder'd the
Ambassador's house of plate, jewels, money, rich goods, etc.: and
also many other who had sent in there for shelter their money,
plate, etc.: among which, one gentleman lost a trunk, in which was
£800 in money, and a great quantity of plate. Thence they went to
the Mass-house, at St. James's, near Smithfield, demolished it
quite; from thence to Blackfriars near the Ditchside, where they
destroyed Mr. Henry Hill's printing-house, spoiled his forms,
letters, etc., and burnt 2 or 300 reams of paper, printed and
unprinted: thence to the Mass-house in Bucklersbury and Lime-street,
and there demolished and burnt as before: and this night they went
to the Nuncio's, and other places at that end of the town; but
finding the birds flown, and the bills on the door, they drew off:
thence they went into the City, threatening to pull down all
papists' houses, particularly one in Ivy Lane, and the market house
upon Newgate Market, for no other reason but that one Burdet, a
papist, was one of the farmers of the market; but by the prudence of
the citizens and some of their trained bands, they were got off
without mischief doing anywhere.
Tuesday night last, and all Wednesday, the apprentices were busy in
pulling down the chapels, and spoiling the houses of papists; they
crying out the fire should not go out till the Prince of Orange came
to town. There were thousands of them on Wednesday at the Spanish
Ambassador's, they not leaving any wainscot withinside the house or
chapel, taking away great quantities of plate, with much money,
household goods and writings, verifying the old proverb "All's fish
that came to the net." The spoil of the house was very great, divers
papists having sent their goods in thither, as judging that the
securest place.
Then they went to the Lord Powis's great house in Lincoln's Inn
Fields, wherein was a guard, and a bill upon the door, "This house
is appointed for the Lord Delameer's quarters:" and some of the
company crying, "Let it alone, the Lord Powis was against the
Bishops going to the Tower," they offered no violence to it.
Afterwards they marched down the Strand with oranges upon their
sticks, crying for the Prince of Orange, and went to the Pope's
Nuncio's, but finding a bill upon the door, "This house is to be
let," they desisted. Lastly, they did some damage to the house of
the resident of the Duke of Tuscany, in the Haymarket, carrying away
some of his goods, when one Captain Douglas, coming thither with a
company of trained bands to suppress them, a soldier, unadvisedly
firing at the boys with ball, shot the Captain through the back, of
which he lies languishing. They also went to the houses of the
French and other Ambassadors, but finding them deserted and the
landlords giving them money, they marched off.
On Thursday, an order of the Lords coming forth, warning all persons
to desist from pulling down any house, especially those of the
Ambassadors, upon penalty of the utmost severity of the law to be
inflicted on them: since which they have been very quiet.
LORD MAYOR'S DAY (1689).
The following passage indicates the good-will which existed between the
citizens and their new Sovereigns. The Lord Mayor invited their
Majesties to witness the festivities, and the King expressed his
satisfaction by knighting the sheriffs. Just before this the King had
allowed the Grocers' Company to choose him as their Master, and when,
some days after the pageant described below, some disaffected person
expressed his disapproval of these manifestations of cordiality between
the King and the City by cutting away the crown and sceptre from the
King's picture in the Guildhall, the Lord Mayor offered a reward of £500
for the discovery of the perpetrator. These civilities were preliminary
to the complete restoration of all the corporate rights of the citizens,
which had been seized by Charles II. The Act of 1690, declaring the
franchises, rights, and liberties of the City of London to be fully
restored, was the last of the long series of confirmations of these
treasured privileges.
=Source.=—_London Gazette_, October 28, 1689.
This day Sir Thomas Pilkington being continued Lord Mayor for the
year ensuing was, according to custom, sworn before the Barons of
the Exchequer, at Westminster, whither he went by water, accompanied
by the Aldermen and the several companies, in their respective
barges, adorned with flags and streamers; passing by Whitehall they
paid their obeisance to their Majesties, who were in their apartment
by the water-side. The river was covered with boats, and the noise
of drums and trumpets, and several sorts of music, with the firing
of great guns, and the repeated huzzas of such a multitude of
people, afforded a very agreeable entertainment.
And their Majesties, the Prince and Princess of Denmark, and the
Lords spiritual and temporal and Commons assembled in Parliament,
having been pleased to accept of an humble invitation from the Lord
Mayor, Aldermen, and Common Council, to dine in the city on this
day, about noon their Majesties came, attended by his Royal
Highness, all the great officers of the Court, and a numerous train
of nobility and gentry in their coaches, the militia of London and
Westminster making a lane for them, the balconies all along their
passage being richly hung with tapestry, and filled with spectators,
and the people in great crowds expressing their joy with loud and
continued acclamations. Their Majesties were pleased from a balcony
prepared for them in Cheapside to see the show; which, for the great
numbers of the citizens of the several guilds attending in their
formalities, the full appearance of the artillery company, the rich
adornment of the pageants, and hieroglyphical representations, and
the splendour and good order of the whole proceeding, outdid all
that has been heretofore seen in this city upon the like occasions;
but that which deserves to be particularly mentioned was the royal
city regiment of volunteer horse, which being richly and gallantly
accoutred, and led by the Right Honourable the Earl of Monmouth,
attended their Majesty's from Whitehall into the city.
The cavalcade being passed by, the King and Queen were conducted by
the two Sheriffs to the Guildhall, where their Majesties, both
Houses of Parliament, the Privy Councillors, the Judges, the Ladies
of the Bedchamber, and other ladies of the chiefest quality, dined
at several tables; and the grandeur and magnificence of the
entertainment was suitable to so august and extraordinary a
presence. Their Majesties were extremely pleased, and as a mark
thereof, the King conferred the honour of Knighthood upon
Christopher Lithiullier and John Houblon, Esquires, the present
Sheriffs, as also upon Edward Clark and Francis Child, two of the
Aldermen.
In the evening their Majesties returned to Whitehall with the same
state they came. The militia again lined the streets, the city
regiments as far as Temple-bar, and the red and blue regiments of
Middlesex and Westminster from thence to Whitehall, the soldiers
having, at convenient distances, lighted flambeaux in their hands;
the houses were all illuminated, the bells ringing, and nothing was
omitted through the whole course of this day's solemnity, either by
the magistrates or people, that might show their respect or
veneration, as well as their dutiful affection and loyalty to their
Majesties, and the sense they have of the happiness they enjoy under
their most benign and gracious government.
GAY'S "TRIVIA" (1716).
_Trivia_ was one of the earliest productions of John Gay, and although
its poetical merit is by no means conspicuous, it is one of the poet's
most notable productions, as a vivid description of the streets of
London two hundred years ago. The piece is too long to print in full,
but the extracts which are given are typical and representative of the
general style and matter of the poem.
But when the swinging signs your ears offend
With creaking noise, then rainy floods impend;
Soon shall the kennels swell with rapid streams,
And rush in muddy torrents to the Thames.
The bookseller, whose shop's an open square,
Forsees the tempest, and with early care
Of learning strips the rails; the rowing crew,
To tempt a fare, clothe all their tilts in blue;
On hosier's poles depending stockings ty'd,
Flag with the slacken'd gale from side to side;
Church-monuments foretell the changing air,
Then Niobe dissolves into a tear,
And sweats with sacred grief; you'll hear the sounds
Of whistling winds, ere kennels break their bounds;
Ungrateful odours common-shores diffuse,
And dropping vaults distil unwholesome dews,
Ere the tiles rattle with the smoking shower,
And spouts on heedless men their torrents pour.
If cloth'd in black you tread the busy town,
Or if distinguish'd by the reverend gown,
Three trades avoid: oft in the mingling press
The barber's apron soils the sable dress;
Shun the perfumer's touch with cautious eye,
Nor let the baker's step advance too nigh.
Ye walkers too, that youthful colours wear,
Three sullying trades avoid with equal care:
The little chimney-sweeper skulks along,
And marks with sooty stains the heedless throng;
When small-coal murmurs in the hoarser throat,
From smutty dangers guard thy threaten'd coat;
The dustman's cart offends thy clothes and eyes,
When through the street a cloud of ashes flies;
But, whether black or lighter dyes are worn,
The chandler's basket, on his shoulder borne,
With tallow spots thy coat; resign the way,
To shun the surly butcher's greasy tray.
If drawn by business to a street unknown,
Let the sworn porter point thee through the town;
Be sure observe the signs, for signs remain,
Like faithful landmarks, to the walking train.
Seek not from 'prentices to learn the way,
Those fabling boys will turn thy steps astray;
Ask the grave tradesmen to direct thee right,
He ne'er deceives—but when he profits by't.
O bear me to the paths of fair Pall-mall!
Safe are thy pavements, grateful is thy smell!
At distance rolls along the gilded coach,
Nor sturdy carmen on thy walks encroach;
No lets would bar thy ways were chairs deny'd,
The soft supports of laziness and pride:
Shops breathe perfumes, through sashes ribbons glow,
The mutual arms of ladies and the beau.
Yet still e'en here, when rains the passage hide,
Oft the loose stone spirts up a muddy tide
Beneath thy careless foot; and from on high,
Where masons mount the ladder, fragments fly,
Mortar and crumbled lime in showers descend,
And o'er thy head destructive tiles impend.
Where Covent-garden's famous temple stands,
That boasts the work of Jones' immortal hands;
Columns with plain magnificence appear,
And graceful porches lead along the square:
Here oft my course I bend; when, lo! from far
I spy the furies of the foot-ball war:
The 'prentice quits his shop, to join the crew,
Increasing crowds the flying game pursue.
Thus, as you roll the ball o'er snowy ground,
The gathering globe augments with every round.
But whither shall I run? the throng draws nigh,
The ball now skims the street, now soars on high:
The dext'rous glazier strong returns the bound,
And jingling sashes on the pent-house sound.
Where Lincoln's-inn, wide space, is rail'd around,
Cross not with venturous step; there oft is found
The lurking thief, who, while the daylight shone,
Made the walls echo with his begging tone:
That crutch, which late compassion mov'd, shall wound
Thy bleeding head, and fell thee to the ground.
Though thou art tempted by the link-man's call,
Yet trust him not along the lonely wall;
In the mid-way he'll quench the flaming brand,
And share the booty with the pilfering band.
Still keep the public streets, where oily rays,
Shot from the crystal lamp, o'erspread the ways.
THE SOUTH SEA BUBBLE (1720).
The scenes in 'Change Alley during the period of the rise and fall of
South Sea Company shares have often been described. The mad spirit of
speculation which seized all classes alike, the foolish and unreasoning
belief in the possibility of realising fabulous wealth, the floating of
innumerable companies, many of which were of a most absurd character,
the panic which followed inevitably on the inflation of prices—all these
things were witnessed in London, the centre of the financial affairs of
the nation. There was great indignation against the Ministers and
directors who had made large profits, and a parliamentary inquiry
disclosed the fact that there had been bribery and corruption on an
extensive scale. The distracting effect of events of this kind was
extremely injurious to the City, and the attitude of the citizens is set
forth in their petition to the House of Commons.
=Source.=—_The Journal of Common Council_, quoted by Maitland,
vol. i., p. 530.
Your petitioners beg leave to return their most humble thanks to
this honourable House for the great pains they have taken to relieve
the unhappy sufferers, by compelling the offenders to make
restitution; as likewise for their continued application to lay open
this whole scene of guilt, notwithstanding the industrious artifices
of such sharers in the common plunder, as have endeavoured to
obstruct the detection of fraud and corruption. And your petitioners
doubt not, but the same fortitude, impartiality and public spirit
wherewith this Honourable House have hitherto acted, will still
animate them in the pursuit of those truly great and noble ends.
We are too sensible of the load of public debts, not to wish that
all proper methods may be taken to lessen them: and it is an
infinite concern to us, that the payment of a great sum towards them
(which was expected from the late scheme) is now rendered extremely
difficult, if not impracticable; and yet, as a cloud, hanging over
the heads of the present unfortunate proprietors of the South-Sea
Company, and a great damp to public credit. We will not presume to
mention in what manner relief may be given in this arduous affair;
but most humbly submit it to the consideration of this Honourable
House. Your petitioners therefore most humbly pray this Honourable
House will be pleased to take such farther measures as they, in
their great wisdom, shall judge proper, that trade may flourish,
public credit be restored, and justice done to an injured people.
DEFOE'S DESCRIPTION OF LONDON (1725).
This account of the capital is useful, as indicating its extent and
dimensions two centuries ago. Defoe was an accurate observer, and had
noticed the rapid expansion which had taken place even during his own
day. As trade and commerce increased, the boundaries of London were
extended farther and farther, and it would appear that the questions
with which this extract concludes are as far from being answered as they
were when Defoe asked them.
=Source.=—_A Tour through the Whole Island of Great Britain_,
1724-1727, vol. ii., pp. 94-97.
_London_, as a City only, and as its Walls and Liberties live it
out, might, indeed, be viewed in a small Compass; but, when I speak
of _London_, now in the Modern Acceptation, you expect I shall take
in all that vast Mass of Buildings, reaching from _Black Wall_ in
the _East_ to _Tothill Fields_ in the _West_; and extended in an
unequal Breadth, from the Bridge, or River, on the _South_, to
_Islington North_; and from _Peterburgh House_ on the Bank Side in
_Westminster_, to _Cavendish Square_, and all the new Buildings by,
and beyond _Hanover Square_, by which the City of _London_, for so
it is still to be called, is extended to _Hyde Park Corner_ in the
_Brentford Road_, and almost to _Maribone_ in the _Acton Road_, and
how much farther may it spread, who knows? New Squares, and new
Streets rising up every Day to such a Prodigy of Buildings, that
nothing in the world does, or ever did, equal it, except old _Rome_
in _Trajan's_ time, when the walls were Fifty Miles in Compass, and
the Number of Inhabitants Six Millions Eight Hundred Thousand Souls.
It is the Disaster of _London_, as to the Beauty of its Figure, that
it is thus stretched out in Buildings, just at the pleasure of every
Builder, or Undertaker of Buildings, and as the Convenience of the
People directs, whether for Trade, or otherwise; and this has spread
the Face of it in a most straggling, confus'd Manner, out of all
Shape, uncompact, and unequal; neither long nor broad, round or
square; whereas the City of _Rome_, though a monster for its
Greatness, yet was, in a manner, round, with very few Irregularities
in its Shape.
At _London_, including the Buildings on both Sides the Water, one
sees it, in some Places, Three Miles broad, as from _St. George's_
in _Southwark_, to _Shoreditch_ in _Middlesex_; or Two Miles, as
from _Peterburgh House_ to _Montague House_; and in some Places, not
half a Mile, as in _Wapping_; and much less, as in _Redriff_
[Rotherhithe].
We see several Villages, formerly standing, as it were, in the
County and at a great Distance, now joyn'd to the Streets by
continued Buildings, and more making haste to meet in the like
Manner; for Example, 1. _Deptford_, This Town was formerly reckoned
at least Two Miles off from _Redriff_, and that over the Marshes
too, a Place unlikely ever to be inhabited; and yet now, by the
Encrease of Buildings in that Town itself, and by the Docks and
Buildings-Yard on the River Side, which stand between both the Town
of _Deptford_, and the Streets of _Redriff_ (or Rotherhith as they
write it) are effectually joyn'd, and the Buildings daily
increasing; so that _Deptford_ is no more a separated Town, but is
become a Part of the great Mass, and infinitely full of People also;
Here they have, within the last Two or Three Years, built a fine new
Church, and were the Town of Deptford now separated, and rated by
itself, I believe it contains more People, and stands upon more
Ground, than the City of _Wells_.
The Town of _Islington_ on the _North_ side of the City, is in like
Manner joyn'd to the Streets of _London_, excepting one small Field,
and which is in itself so small, that there is no Doubt, but in a
very few years, they will be intirely joyn'd, and the same may be
said of _Mile-End_, on the _East_ End of the Town.
_Newington_, called _Newington Butts_, in _Surrey_, reaches out her
Hand _North_, and is so near joining to _Southwark_, that it cannot
now be properly called a Town by itself, but a Suburb to the
Burrough, and if, _as they now tell us is undertaken_, _St. George's
Fields_ should be built with Squares and Streets, a very little Time
will shew us _Newington_, _Lambeth_, and the _Burrough_, all making
but one _Southwark_.
Westminster is in a fair Way to shake Hands with Chelsea, as _St.
Gyles's_ is with _Marybone_; and Great _Russel_ Street by _Montague
House_, with _Tottenham Court_: all this is very evident, and yet
all these put together are still to be called _London_: Whither will
this monstrous City then extend? and where must a Circumvallation or
Communication Line of it be placed?
A PETITION AGAINST THE EXCISE BILL (1733).