The Streets of Chester.—Eastgate Street and Royal Hotel.—The Ancient Rows
of Chester.—An American’s “notion” of them.—The Architecture of the Rows
and Streets.—The High Cross.—The Pentice and Conduit.—The City
Bullbait.—St. Peter’s Church.
Let us move slowly through the street,
Filled with an ever shifting train,
Amid the sound of steps that beat
The murmuring walks like autumn rain.—BRYANT.
HAVING adequately “refreshed the inner man,” we will now, like Don
Quixote, sally forth into the STREET “in search of the picturesque,” and
doubtless we shall there find much of a nature to interest and delight
us.
The EASTGATE, under which we are now passing, marks the termination of
the old Watling Street,—the line of which is here taken up by the chief
of the four great Streets of the city, as planned and excavated by the
soldier colonists of once mighty Rome. We have passed from Foregate into
EASTGATE STREET, ever the _via principalis_ of Chester, and still
maintaining that ancient prerogative despite the revolutionary inroads of
steam. It is the one great highway for all passengers and conveyances to
and from the Station, and as a necessary consequence holds the proud
distinction of being, for all business purposes, the main Street of the
city.
This arcade on our left is the _Royal Hotel Row_, and the massive pile of
buildings of which it forms a part, and from which it derives its name,
is the ROYAL HOTEL. The “Royal” is pre-eminently the chief Hotel of the
city; for besides being the most central and commodious, it is at the
same time _par excellence_ the first and most fashionable of all our
Chester Hotels, and under its present efficient management, is certainly
not surpassed by any similar provincial establishment. Its capacious
_Assembly Room_ is, with perhaps one exception, the finest room the city
can boast, and is consequently in high repute for all literary and
musical entertainments. The Royal Hotel enjoys the singular felicity of
being _in three distinct parishes_; thus, in a religious, as well as a
commercial point of view, “it stands well!”
[Picture: Royal Hotel]
If you have any curiosity for modern ruins, turn up this passage in front
of the Hotel, and see the baneful effects of a chancery suit on what was
once a flourishing mart of commerce; and as you look upon that half
roofless, tottering fabric, still known as the _Manchester Hall_, “thank
your propitious stars” that you, at least, are free from the trammels of
the law.
The street immediately beyond on the left, is NEWGATE STREET, anciently
styled _Fleshmonger Lane_, from its having been at one time the chief
place of business of the butchers. Nearly opposite to it, on the right
hand, is ST. WERBURGH STREET, which we shall notice by and bye, when we
pay our visit to the Cathedral.
And here we are introduced to another unique characteristic of old
Chester,—its venerable Rows. To account satisfactorily for the origin of
these Rows, is a problem which has troubled far brighter heads than ours;
and, indeed, all we know in the present day is, that in reality we _know
nothing_ of their earliest history. Some writers, with exuberant
fancies, have attributed to the Rows a British foundation: while others,
with greater apparent reason, consider them a vestige of the dominion of
Rome, and to have been by them erected, conjointly for the purposes of
recreation and defence. There are many circumstances which seem to
justify this view of the case; particularly that of their resemblance to
the porticoes or _vestibula_ spoken of by Plautus and other Latin
authors. Further confirmatory of their Roman origin, we may add that
there is, or was, a street in old Rome, bearing a close analogy to the
Rows of Chester. Taking into account also that a Roman Bath and Lavatory
exist to this very hour under one of these Rows, the arguments in favour
of their Roman creation are certainly entitled to a fair amount of
weight.
If it be difficult to arrive at the early history of these Rows, equally
difficult is it to attempt to describe them to a stranger. Distrusting
our own powers, we will call in the aid of our friend Albert Smith, who
in describing the Rows of what he calls “this marvellous city,” proceeds
to say that “the passenger’s footway lies right through the first floor
fronts of the houses—which are cleared away altogether, and above the
shop, of ordinary normal position, by the road-side; and thus, the back
drawing-rooms, or whatever else they may be, are turned into more shops;
and great is the puzzle of the stranger as to whether the roadway is down
in the cellar, or he is up stairs on the landing, or the house has turned
itself out of window; affording a literal proof of that curious state of
domestic affairs so often spoken of. And first he fancies the ‘Row’—as
it is termed—is like the Quadrant, with the road excavated a floor lower,
and shops made under the pavement; and then it reminds him of a
Thames-side tavern, with all the shutter wainscots, that divide the large
convivial room into so many little philandering ones, drawn away, and the
windows knocked out. And finally he arrives at the conclusion that there
is nothing else in the world at all like it, except the prints published
by the enterprising booksellers who live there. But very convenient is
this arrangement for old ladies of weak minds who quail at meeting
cattle; and young ladies of extravagant ones who doat on shopping, in
spite of the weather. For it raises the first above suspicion even of
danger; and shelters the second from being favoured with the visits of
the clouds, who cannot here drop in upon them.”
Another description from the pen of an American, is still more
intelligible. Writing to a friend on the other side of the Atlantic, he
says, “The second story of most of the houses is thrown forward, as you
have seen it in the old settlers’ houses at home. Sometimes it projects
several feet, and is supported by posts in the sidewalk. Soon this
becomes a frequent and then a continuous arrangement; the posts are
generally of stone, forming an arcade,—and you walk beneath them in the
shade. Sometimes, instead of posts, a solid wall supports the house
above. You observe, as would be likely in an old city, that the surface
is irregular, that we are ascending a slight elevation. Notwithstanding
the old structure overhead, and the well-worn flagging under foot, we
notice the shop fronts are filled with plate-glass, and with all the
brilliancy of the most modern art and taste. Turning, to make the
contrast more striking, by looking at the little windows and rude
carvings of the houses opposite, we see a banister or handrail separates
the side-walk from the carriage way, and are astonished, in stepping out
to it, to find the street is some ten feet below us. We are evidently on
the second floor of the houses. Finding steps leading down we descend
into the street, and discover another tier of shops, on the roofs of
which we have been walking.”
And now for our own brief sketch of the Streets and Rows. This house,
near by, with the eccentric gable, and grotesquely carved front is the
notable establishment of Messrs. Platt and Son, chemists. The shop
itself, which is one of the most chaste and elegant in the city, deserves
something more than a mere passing notice, and is worthy the careful
inspection of every true ‘lover of the beautiful.’ “This shop,” says the
_Chester Courant_, “exhibits one of the most perfect and beautiful
examples of the application of architectural and artistic skill and taste
to the purposes of business, that we have lately witnessed. It is the
joint work of Mr. Penson and Mr. J. Morris, whose combined talents in the
constructive and decorative departments, have produced a most successful
and elegant illustration of the manner in which the antique character of
our domestic architecture can be preserved, with every regard for modern
requirements and comforts. The wood-work has been well executed by Mr.
Hankey; the floor is paved with fancy tiles from the celebrated
manufactory of Messrs. Minton, in Staffordshire; and all the details and
fittings of the establishment have been carried out with characteristic
taste and propriety. We should hope that the good sense and
intelligence, as well as public spirit, displayed by Mr. Platt in this
judicious work of restoration, will give an impulse to other improvements
in the right direction; while at the same time it excites a regret that
alterations have been previously effected, in such utter disregard of the
architecture of the Rows, seeing how beautifully their original
appearance might have been preserved, to maintain the unique
characteristic of the old city.” The hope indulged in this last
paragraph has not “wasted its fragrance on the desert air,” as two
neighbouring erections sufficiently testify.
[Picture: Eastgate Row—Platt and Son, Chemists]
Next door to Messrs. Platt’s, and half hidden by the shop which obstructs
it just in front, is that favourite resort of the fair sex, the drapery
establishment of the Messrs. McLellan. A few yards farther up the
street, our eye rests on the gabled _façade_, and handsome shop front of
Mr. Bolland, Confectioner, Bride Cake Manufacturer to her Majesty the
Queen. What! you are about to get married, are you? Well then, “a word
to the wise is sufficient for them,”—give an order to Mr. Bolland for a
Chester Bride Cake, and tell him it must be of the quality once supplied
to Queen Victoria, and you’ll never forget this “sweet and luscious
reminiscence” of your approaching wedding-day.
[Picture: Eastgate Row—Mr. Bolland, Confectioner]
[Picture: Eastgate Street, North Side]
You will perceive that there is a covered Row also on the other side of
this street, similar in character, though not in adornment, to the one we
have just been noticing. This is popularly known as the _Pepper Alley
Row_, a quaint but gloomy looking region, rendered still more so by the
projecting block of buildings displayed in our engraving. Here are the
well known drapery establishments of Messrs. Oakes, and Ambrose Williams,
and that curious old zigzag erection, occupied by Mr. Hill, Chester’s
enterprising boot-maker: behind which premises _Pepper Alley Row_ “worms
its darksome way” into Northgate Street. In this Row are the rooms of
the _Church of England Educational Institute_, and the Chester EXCISE
OFFICE.
On the ground floor of Messrs. Prichard and Dodd’s carpet warehouse in
Eastgate Street, there is a curious and interesting old crypt, erected,
it is supposed, in the eighth century, an illustration of which will be
found in our advertising sheet.
We are now fairly arrived at the HIGH CROSS, and close to the spot where
that sacred emblem of the faith in old time stood. This ancient
landmark, which was of stone, and elaborately carved, had for centuries
ornamented this part of the city, and was a relic much and deservedly
prized by the citizens. The Puritans, however, on obtaining possession
of the city in 1646, with their characteristic abhorrence of the
beautiful, and in direct breach of the articles of surrender, demolished
this “fayre crosse.” “No cross, no crown” was, in a perverted sense, the
motto of these fanatics, whose “organs of destructiveness” must, beyond
doubt, have been largely developed. Some fragments of the Cross were
picked up at the time, and hidden within the porch of St. Peter’s Church
hard by, where a century or so afterwards they were discovered, and now
ornament the grounds of Netherlegh House, near this city.
Near the Cross was the CONDUIT, to which water was of old brought in
pipes to this city from St. Giles’ Well in Boughton, and this conduit it
was that, according to ancient records, was made to “run with wine” on
all public and festive occasions. Here also, upon the south side of St.
Peter’s Church, was the Penthouse or _Pentice_ of the city, where the
mayor and magistrates of the old regime sat to administer justice with
the one hand, and feed on turtle with the other. A _lean_ alderman was
as great a curiosity in those days, as a _fat_ parish pauper would be
deemed in the present. The Pentice, which, with its accessories the
Stocks and the Pillory, had too long obstructed this quarter of the city,
was pulled down in 1803, and its jurisdiction removed to a more
commodious room in the north end of the Exchange.
This locality, crowded as it must have been before the removal of these
obstructions, was also annually the scene of the _Corporation Bullbait_,
thus vividly described by Cowdroy, a local scribe of the last century:
“The Cross is famous for being the annual scene of exhibition of that
_polite play_ called a bull-bait; where four or five of these _horned
heroes_ are attended by several hundred lovers of that _rational
amusement_. Till within a few years the _dramatis personæ_ of this
_elegant scene_ included even magistracy itself, the mayor and
corporation attending in their official habiliments, at the Pentice
windows, not only to countenance the _diversions_ of the _ring_, but to
participate in a sight of its _enjoyments_. A proclamation was also made
by the crier of the court, with all the gravity and solemnity of an
oration before a _Romish sacrifice_; the elegant composition of which
runs thus, ‘_Oyez_! _Oyez_! _Oyez_! _If any man stands within twenty
yards of the bull-ring_, _let him take_—_what comes_.’ After which
followed the usual public ejaculations, for the safety of the king, and
the mayor of the city;” when the _beauties_ of the scene commenced, and
the dogs immediately _fell to_. Here a prayer for his worship was not
unseasonable, as even the ermined cloak was no security against the
carcases of dead animals, with which spectators, without distinction,
were occasionally saluted. In many ancient boroughs a law formerly
prevailed, that no bulls should be slaughtered for food without having
been first thus baited by dogs. They loved tender beefsteaks in those
days!
This barbarous recreation of a bygone age has long since been put down by
the strong arm of the law, and we can now from the very spot study the
character of yonder Row, which commanded in those days so near a view of
the revolting spectacle.
The ancient and the modern in domestic architecture here stand forth in
curious juxtaposition. To the left rests a building of venerable mien,
the builder of which flourished probably in the sixteenth century, when
Harry the Eighth or Elizabeth swayed the sceptre of England, and when
wood and plaster was the chief ingredient in houses of this description.
In the centre of our view, looking affably down on its two-gabled
neighbour, is a bold and substantial building of white freestone, erected
in 1837, on the site of an older and more picturesque house. This is the
business retreat of _our publisher_, and by the same token the oldest
book establishment in the city. Here are procurable, in almost endless
variety, Guides to Chester and North Wales, local prints, books of views,
&c. to suit every imaginable taste and requirement. Perhaps no city in
the empire has been so fully and faithfully illustrated as
Chester,—Prout, Cuitt, Pickering, Sumners, and others equally celebrated
in the walks of art, have plied their pencils in its honour, while the
genius of the engraver and the enterprise of the publisher have given
permanence to their works.
The other house depicted upon the right of our view, its front bearing
the arms of the Apothecaries’ Company, is the well-known establishment of
MR. J. D. FARRER, Chemist. “Farrer’s Cestrian Bouquet” and “Floral
Extract” are perfumes too well known to the fair _élite_ of Chester to
need more than a passing notice here. Strangers and visitors, however,
will thank us for the hint that these, and other like gems of the toilet,
fragrant mementos of “rare old Chester,” are “prepared and sold only by
Mr. Farrer.”
[Picture: East Gate Row]
Opposite to these premises stands the parish CHURCH OF ST. PETER, the
site of which is supposed to have been also that of the Roman
_Prœtorium_. Tradition ascribes the first building of this church to
that Mercian celebrity, the Countess Ethelfleda, who raised an edifice in
the centre of the city to the mutual honour of St. Peter and St. Paul.
These two saints had, up to that time, presided over the destinies of the
mother church of Chester, now the Cathedral, but a ‘new light’ having
sprung up in the person of the virgin-wife, St. Werburgh, the two
aforesaid apostles were relieved of their charge, and a new Church
erected and dedicated to them on the spot we are now surveying. Bradshaw
the monk, from whose quaint historic poem we have already quoted, thus
records the translation:—
And the olde churche of Peter and of Paule
By a generall counsell of the spiritualte,
With helpe of the Duke moost principall,
Was translate to the myddes of the sayd cite,
Where a paresshe churche was edified truele
In honour of the aforesaid apostoles twayne,
Whiche shall for ever by grace divine remayne.
St. Paul’s connection with the church appears to have ceased before the
Conquest, since which time the edifice has been once or twice rebuilt.
The spire is recorded to have been re-edified in 1479, in which year the
_parson of the parish_, with his officers, ate a goose upon the top, and
cast the well-picked bones into the four streets below. The
ecclesiastics of those days were a jovial crew,—none of your lean,
skewery-built men, like their degenerate types of the present day,—but
priests of size and substance; men who quaffed their wine and sack right
merrily; and who evidently looked after the _spirits_ of their flocks
more than after their souls. Must not those have been “good old times!”
The east and part of the south sides of the church were rebuilt in 1640,
just before the breaking out of the great Civil War. The “parson and
goose spire” having been injured by lightning in 1780, was that same year
removed. The present square steeple was rebuilt in 1813; and the
illuminated clock which ornaments the south front was first publicly lit
up in 1835. The interior of the church, which contains some venerable
monuments, has of late years been considerably improved and beautified.