will be, for the public like mysterious remedies, and are anxious to
recommend them and to force them on their friends. In nothing is a
little knowledge more dangerous than in medicine; mothers and nurses
especially, who have acquired some smattering of it from their
conversations with doctors, may do a lot of mischief. To them are due
nearly all so-called diseases of children--as if children must
necessarily have diseases--a superstition which is shared by some
doctors, who also encourage the reading of their books. The reading of
those books has physically the same effect on the body that the reading
or hearing of ghost stories has morally on the mind: the reader or
hearer everywhere feels dis-ease and sees ghosts; _ergo_ beware of
medical books and goblin stories--both are unwholesome. Modern invalids
are fortunate in escaping the tortures inflicted on patients in earlier
days. Edmund Verney thus writes concerning his father, Sir Ralph
Verney, of Claydon House, in 1686: 'He hath been blooded, vomited,
blistered, cupt and scarified, and hath three physicians with him,
besides apothecary and chirurgian.' And then he wonders that 'he still
continues very weak.' The marvel was that he survived at all. Had not
Moliere a few years before the above date said: 'You must not say that a
man died of such and such a disease, but of so many physicians, surgeons
and apothecaries'?
The most pungent and most witty definition of the doctor's character
probably is that given, I think, by Talleyrand. When Napoleon, in a fit
of despondency, said that he would forsake war and turn physician, the
sarcastic courtier said _sotto voce_: '_Toujours assassin?_'
*XV.*
*THE LOST RIVERS OF LONDON.*
London is deficient in two conditions to render it picturesque: it lacks
diversity of surface, and it lacks water. In so vast an expanse of
ground as is covered by London, Ludgate Hill and Notting Hill are mere
molehills.[#] As to water, it has the Thames, but that is accessible at
short and broken intervals only. There is the Embankment from
Blackfriars to Westminster; a short bit at Chelsea, and the Albert
Embankment. But the City people during the day have no time to waste on
their Embankment, and in the evening they are gone to the suburbs, and
so this grand promenade is given up to occasional country cousins'
visits, and to permanent ruffianism. For, of course, no one from the
more northern parts of London ever thinks of coming so far to take a
stroll on that Embankment, from which nothing is to be seen but
mud-banks in the near prospect, as by a perverse arrangement of nature
it is generally low water when you want to take a walk; on the opposite
bank only dismal wharves present themselves. As to the Chelsea
Embankment, that is patronized by the dwellers in that region only, if
they do not neglect it altogether, as people generally do who live in a
rather picturesque locality. The less we say about the Albert
Embankment the better; its characteristics are dingy hovels and
smoke-belching pottery chimneys on one side, smoke and cinders from
passing steam-barges and penny steamers on the river, and a dreary
outlook on the opposite side, scarcely relieved by the Tate Gallery,
which, for reasons unknown to the general public, but self-evident to
those who can see the wire-pulling behind, has been pitched, like a King
Log, into the Pimlico swamp. All other parts of the river are
inaccessible to the public, and therefore as good as non-existent for
the Londoner.
[#] The highest point north is Hampstead Hill, 400 feet above sea-level;
to the south Sydenham Hill, 365 feet; Primrose Hill, about 260 feet;
Herne Hill, about 180 feet; Denmark, about 100 feet; Orme Square, 95
feet; Broad Walk, 90 feet; North Audley Street, 83 feet; Tottenham Court
Road, 85 feet; Regent Circus, 90 feet; Cornhill, 60 feet; Charing Cross,
24 feet; Euston Road, 90 feet; Cheapside, 59 feet; Farringdon Street, 28
feet; St. Katherine's, Regent's Park, 120 feet; Camberwell Green, 19
feet.
Thus much for the Thames. As to other pieces of water to be found in
public parks, they are mere ponds, and of benefit only locally. As to
public fountains, which form the peculiar charm of so many Continental
cities, where the melodious splash of water is heard day and night,
London possesses none. True, there are two squirts in Trafalgar Square,
and the Shaftesbury fountain is making asthmatic efforts to assert
itself, whilst the Angel at the top seems to be shooting Folly as it
flies all around him in the savoury purlieus of the Haymarket. The
small drinking fountains found here and there are evidences of
philanthropy, which may be grateful to children and tramps, to horses
and dogs, but do not add much to the aquatic features of London. There
are canals, it is true, but they are private property, and so fenced,
hoarded, and walled in, as to be of no use to the public. And as a rule
their water is so dirty that no one with a nose would walk by the side
of them, even if allowed to do so.
But London was not always so deadly level and so waterless as it is now.
In ancient days there were high hills and deep valleys in the very heart
of it. From the river Lea to the river Brent on the northern side of
London there were numerous rivulets and brooks descending from the
northern heights through the City and its western outskirts into the
Thames, brooks and rivulets which at times assumed such dimensions as to
cause serious inundations. It was the same in the south of London,
where from the Ravensbourne to the Wandle similar watercourses reached
the Thames from the southern hills.
All those brooks between the four rivers we have named, and which alone
are still existing, have totally disappeared. What were their features,
when they still flowed from northern and southern heights, and what were
the causes and the process of their disappearance, we now intend to
investigate, by proceeding from east to west, and taking the northern
shore of the Thames first.
The site on which the Romans founded London was the rising ground on the
northern bank of the Thames, from the present Fish Street Hill, or
Billingsgate, to the Wallbrook. At a later date of their occupation
they extended the City eastward to the Tower, and westward to the valley
of the Fleet. Then the valley of the Wallbrook divided the City into
two portions of almost equal size. To the north the buildings extended
to the present Aldgate and to Moorfields, and westward to Newgate and
Ludgate. The wall which encompassed the town began at the Tower, and in
a line with various bends in it terminated at the Arx Palatina,
somewhere near the present _Times_ office. On the east of the town,
where the country was flat, there was a marsh, extending to the river
Lea. To the north-west were dense forests stretching far into
Middlesex, and abounding with deer, wild boar, and other savage animals.
This forest was partly the cause of the many brooks, which in those days
watered London from the northern heights; it being a well-known fact
that trees absorb and retain moisture.
It is doubtful whether there were any Roman buildings west of the Fleet;
Fleet Street and the Strand certainly were then undreamt of, and did not
come into existence till centuries after the Romans had left our island.
To the west of the present Strand, the ground lying very low, it was
frequently inundated by the river, and there are persons still living
who can remember Belgravia and Pimlico as a dismal swamp. Westminster
Abbey stood on an island, which rose above the marshy environs, and even
as late as the times of Charles II. occasional high tides converted the
palace of Whitehall into an island.
The great forest of Middlesex above mentioned came close to the City
wall; it had, in fact, occupied a portion of the site on which the City
was built, and as much of it had been cut down, and so much space
cleared, as the builders required for their operations. But the nature
of the forest ground could not be as readily changed. It was still full
of moisture, and numerous rills continued to flow through it. Now, one
of the most important of them was the Langbourne.
This watercourse, so called because of its length, took its rise in
ground now forming part of Fenchurch Street. It ran swiftly through
that street in a westward direction, across Grass, now Gracechurch
Street, into and down Lombard Street--where many Roman remains have been
discovered--to the west of St. Mary Woolnoth Church, where it turned
sharply round to the south and gave name to Sherbourne Lane, so termed
of sharing or dividing, because there it broke into a number of rills
and so reached the Thames. From this watercourse Langbourne Ward took
its name. Thus says Stow, but he adds that in his day (1598) this
bourne had long been stopped up at the head, and the rest of the course
filled up and paved over, 'so that no sign thereof remaineth more than
the name aforesaid.'
Some modern historians, Mr. Loftie, for instance, deny the existence of
the Langbourne altogether. 'Stow says that the Langbourne rose in
Fenchurch Street and ran down Lombard Street. It does not seem to have
occurred to him that the course indicated is up hill,' Mr. Loftie
objects. But Fenchurch Street was then, as it is now, considerably
higher than the outfall of the Langbourne into the Thames, and what do
we know of the then levels of the streets through which it was said to
have run? Upwards of thirty feet under the present level of Lombard
Street Roman remains have been found, and the Langbourne, as we know
from various documents, was covered in as early as the latter part of
the twelfth century, a time when building increased rapidly under
Fitz-Alwyn, the first Mayor of London; moreover, the fenny condition of
Fenchurch Street is said to have been due to the overflowing of the
Langbourne at its source. Mr. Loftie says that the original name of the
Langbourne was Langford; but a ford implies a watercourse, and not a
mere ditch or artificial trench, which, receiving the drainage of the
immediate locality, fell into the Wallbrook, as Mr. Burt would have us
believe. If the Langbourne never existed, whence did Langbourne Ward
derive its name?
Proceeding westward, we come to a much more important stream, namely,
the Wallbrook.
No more striking instance of the changes which Time will effect in the
topographical aspect of a locality can be found than that which the
disappearance of the Wallbrook has produced within the limits of its own
course and in its surroundings. Where now a smooth expanse of asphalte
paving covers firm ground (except where rendered treacherously dangerous
by sewer-like railway tunnels, in which human beings are shot to and fro
like so many rats enclosed in traps in a drain!), extending from Princes
Street right across to the Mansion House, and to and down the street
called Wallbrook, there, centuries ago, yawned a wide ravine with
precipitous sides, at the bottom of which flowed the brook called the
Wall-brook, because, rising in the upper fenny grounds of Moorfields, it
entered the city through an opening in the wall, somewhere near the
northern end of the present Moorgate Street. The brook, towards its
southern termination, must have been of considerable width, for barges
could be rowed up to Bucklersbury--a fact commemorated by Barge Yard,
formerly a kind of dock, but now solid ground, opening into
Bucklersbury. The width of the Wallbrook near its outfall was no doubt
increased by tributaries, which, flowing from the opposite portion of
the City, found an exit on the western bank. There is no doubt that
there was a watercourse along the line of Cheapside; the fact is stated
positively by Maitland. He says: 'At Bread Street corner, the north-east
end, in 1595, one Thomas Tomlinson causing in the High Street of Chepe a
vault to be digged, there was found at fifteen feet deep a fair
pavement, like that above-ground, and at the further end, at the
channel, was found a tree, sawed into five steps, which was to step over
some brook running out of the west towards Wallbrook. And upon the edge
of the said brook there was found lying the bodies of two great trees,
the ends whereof were then sawed off, and firm timber as at the first
when they fell. It was all forced ground until they went past the trees
aforesaid, which was about seventeen feet deep, or better. Thus much
has the ground of this city been raised from the main. And here it may
be observed that within fourscore years and less, Cheapside was raised
divers feet higher than it was when St. Paul's was first built, as
appeared by several eminent marks discovered in the late laying of the
foundation of that church.' The mention of Cheapside as a highway does
not go back to very early times. In the eleventh century it must have
been a mere bog; for, when in 1090 the roof of Bow Church was blown off
by a tempest, the rafters, which were twenty-six feet long, penetrated
more than twenty feet into the soft soil of Cheapside. The course of
the brook just mentioned west of Bread Street is not known; it is
doubtful whether it struck off northward by about Gutter Lane, and so
towards springs known to exist near Cripplegate, or whether it came from
further westward, from the springs which supply the ancient baths in
Bath Street (formerly called Bagnio Court), north of Newgate Street.
But we must return to the Wallbrook itself; and, first, as to its
course. After entering the City through the opening in the wall, it
curved eastward, ran along Bell Alley, crossed Tokenhouse Yard and
Lothbury, close by St. Margaret's Church, curved westward again, passing
through ground now covered by the north-west corner of the Bank of
England; crossing the present Princes Street and the Poultry, it ran
under what is now the National Safe Deposit, whence, by an almost
semicircular bend, it reached Cannon Street, which it crossed, turning
westwardly towards St. Michael's Church, and crossing Thames Street,
flowed past Joiners' Hall into the Thames. There were various bridges
over the said watercourse. There was one close to Bokerelsberi
(Bucklersbury), which in 1291 four occupiers of tenements adjoining the
bridge were ordered to repair, according to clauses in their tenancies.
There was another over against the wall of the chancel of the church of
St. Stephen, which it was the duty of the parishioners to repair, as
they were ordered to do, for instance, in 1300. At Dowgate Hill, at the
outfall of the Wallbrook into the Thames, there was discovered in 1884
an ancient landing-stage, a Roman pavement in tile, set upon timber
piles, with mortised jointing. The stage stood on the left bank of the
Wallbrook, facing not the Thames, but the brook. It was twenty-one feet
below the present level of Dowgate Hill, and below the churchyard of St.
John's. A large quantity of stout oak-piling was also _in situ_, and
the sill of the bridge which crossed from east to west at this spot was
seen very plainly. Another landing-stage appears to have existed on the
brook at a spot now covered by the National Safe Deposit: it consisted
of a timber flooring supported by huge oak timbers, and running parallel
with the stream. Adjoining this were evidences of a macadamized
roadway, which extended in a line with Bucklersbury, until it reached
the apparent course of the brook. Upon the opposite side similar
indications appeared, so that here also a bridge may have existed.
Another bridge seems to have spanned the brook near London Wall, in
Broad Street Ward, with yet another a little more south. It appears
that in the year 1300 both these bridges required repairs, and that the
Prior of the Holy Trinity, who was liable for those of the first, and
the Prior of the New Hospital without Bishopsgate, who was bound to do
those of the second, were in that year summoned by the Mayor and
Aldermen of London 'to rebuild the said bridges and keep them in
repair.'
When in the seventies the National Safe Deposit Company dug down some
forty feet into the ground, and reached the ancient course of the
Wallbrook, they found in its bed, among other debris, enormous
quantities of broken vessels and kitchen utensils. No doubt the
careless cooks and housemaids of the ancient Romans found the brook
handy for getting rid of the evidences of mishap or recklessness; but
their successors on the banks of the stream seem to have treated it with
even greater disrespect. In the records of the City we find constant
references to the disgraceful condition of the Wallbrook. In 1288 the
Warden and Sheriffs of the City of London had to order that the
watercourse of the Wallbrook should be made free from dung and other
nuisances, and that the rakes should be put back again upon every
tenement extending from Finsbury Moor to the Thames. In 1374 the Mayor
and Aldermen granted to Thomas atte Ram, brewer, a seven years' lease of
the Moor, together with charge of the watercourse of Wallbrook, without
paying any rent therefor, upon the understanding that he should keep the
said Moor well and properly, and have the Wallbrook cleansed for the
whole of the term, clearing it from dung and other filth thrown therein,
he taking for every latrine built upon the said watercourse twelve pence
yearly. And if, in so cleansing it, he should find aught therein, he
should have it for his own. But it would seem that Thomas atte Ram did
not properly perform his contract, for at the expiration of it, namely
in 1383, we find by an Ordinance of the Common Council that, 'whereas
the watercourse of the Wallbrook is stopped up by divers filth and dung
thrown thereinto by persons who have houses along the said course, to
the great nuisance and damage of all the City, the Aldermen of the Wards
of Coleman Street, Broad Street, Chepe, Wallbrook, Vintry and Dowgate,
through whose wards the said watercourse runs, shall inquire if any
person dwelling along the said course has a stable or other house,
whereby dung or other filth may fall into the same; or otherwise throws
therein such manner of filth by which the said watercourse is stopped
up, and they (the Aldermen) shall pursue all such offenders. But it
shall be lawful for those persons who have houses on the said stream to
have latrines over it, provided they do not throw rubbish or other
refuse through the same ... and every person having such latrines shall
pay yearly to the Chamberlain two shillings for each of them.'
With such arrangements, and the constant increase of buildings on the
brook, and the decrease of water supplied to it by the springs in
Moorfields, which were gradually being laid dry, the Wallbrook, from a
clear stream, became a foul ditch, an open sewer, so that it was found
necessary to convert it into a covered one in reality. The brook was
filled up with all kinds of debris and partially bricked over, so that
when Stow wrote (in 1598) he was obliged to say: 'This watercourse ...
was afterwards vaulted over with brick, and paved level with the streets
and lanes ... and since that houses also have been built thereon, so
that the course of Wallbrook is now hidden underground, and thereby
hardly known.' The stream was covered in at least three centuries
before the covering in of the Fleet river, but its course can still be
traced by the many important buildings which lined its banks. Commencing
at its influx to the Thames, there were along its course on the western
side the halls of the Innholders, the Dyers, the Joiners, the Skinners,
the Tallow-chandlers, and the Cutlers; the churches of St. John, St.
Michael, St. Stephen (which originally stood on the western side), St.
Mildred, and St. Margaret; also the Grocers' and the Founders' Halls,
the estates of the Drapers and Leathersellers, and in Bucklersbury
Cornet's Tower, a strong stone tower which was erected by Edward III. as
his 'Exchange of money there to be kept.' In the sixteenth century it
seems to have come into the possession of one Buckle, a grocer, who
intended to erect in its place a 'goodly frame of timber,' but,
'greedily labouring to pull down the tower,' a part thereof fell upon
and killed him.
In 1835 a curious discovery, the import of which was then unsuspected,
was made close to the Swan's Nest, a public-house in Great Swan Alley,
Moorgate Street. A pit or well was laid open, in which was found a large
quantity of earthen vessels of various patterns. This well had been
carefully planked over with stout boards; the vases it contained were
placed on their sides, embedded in mud or sand, which had settled so
closely round them that a great number were broken in the attempt to
extricate them. A coin and some iron implements were also found in the
well, which was about three feet square, and boarded on each side with
narrow planks about two feet long. The object with which these vessels,
etc., had been deposited in this well was not at the time surmised, but
it was made clear by a subsequent discovery. When the National Safe
Deposit Company's premises, already referred to, were built, a similar
wooden framework was discovered at a depth of about thirty feet below
the present level of the street. It was of oak, and about three feet
square, and the contents of the box were similar to those found at the
Swan's Nest. Fortunately this find came under the observation of Mr.
John E. Price, F.S.A., and Honorary Secretary of the London and
Middlesex Archaeological Society, who recognised the remains as those of
an _arca finalis_, a monument employed by the Roman surveyors to
indicate the situation of limits of public or private property,
answering to a landmark or boundary stone. Similar structures,
occasionally of stone or tiles, have been discovered in other parts of
England, as also on the Continent. It is therefore evident that the box
found higher up the stream was also such an area.
To return once more to Wallbrook. A bridge across it we have not yet
mentioned was Horseshoe Bridge, situate where the brook crossed Cloak
Lane, which was a famous shopping-place of the ladies of those early
days, fancy articles being mostly on sale there. It is, however, time
to leave the Wallbrook; let us part from it with such a picture on our
minds as will leave a vivid and pleasant impression. Remember that its
banks were favourite sites for villas, as is proved by all the evidences
of wealth and luxury of the ancient dwellers on the Wallbrook ravine and
adjoining streets, now buried fathoms deep underground, which have been
found on and near the banks of the river. 'A villa in beautiful grounds
on the Wallbrook to be let'--think of that!
From the valley of the Wallbrook the ground of the City rises gently
towards St. Paul's, and Panyer's Alley, the highest point; thence it
falls almost precipitously towards the valley of the Fleet River, so
precipitously, indeed, that one of the descents from the Old Bailey to
Farringdon Street obtained the name of Breakneck Steps. When the
increase of the population of the old City rendered it desirable to seek
new habitations, the citizens looked across the river Fleet, and saw the
opposite Holborn, Back, and Saffron Hills as yet unoccupied, stretching
out as open country--though roads had begun to be established thereon,
such as Field Lane, then in the fields--and began to erect dwellings on
the western bank of the river. This led to the erection of bridges; we
think Holborn Bridge was the first to be built. But before we enter
into an account of the bridges, it is necessary to speak of the river
itself.