[Illustration: Old Covent Garden. ]
The notoriety of Covent Garden is of too multifarious a description to
render the above illustration uninteresting to either of our readers. It
is copied from one of Hollar's prints, and represents the Garden about
the time of Charles II., before its area had been polluted with filth
and vegetable odours.
The spot was originally the garden belonging to the abbot of
Westminster, which extended to St. Martin's church, was called the
_Convent Garden_, and may be distinctly traced in Ralph Agar's View of
London, bearing date about 1570. It was granted, after the dissolution,
by Edward VI. first to the protector Somerset, on whose attainder, in
1582, it passed into the Bedford family. About the year 1634, Francis,
Earl of Bedford, began to clear away the old buildings, and to form the
present handsome square. Its execution was confided to Inigo Jones, but
unfortunately, only the north, and part of the east side, was completed;
for, had the piazza been continued on the other this would have been one
of the noblest quadrangles in the metropolis. Previously to the erection
of the present mass of huts and sheds, the area was neatly gravelled,
had a handsome dial in the centre, and was railed in on all sides, at
the distance of sixty feet from the buildings. The south side was
bounded by the garden wall of Bedford-House, the town house of the noble
family of that name; and along this wall only were the market booths.
But the mansion has long given way to Little Bedford-street.
The most striking object in the engraving is, however, the original
church of St. Paul, as built by Inigo Jones, connected with which is the
following anecdote:--When the Earl of Bedford sent for Jones, in 1640,
he told him he wanted a chapel for the parishioners of Covent Garden;
but added, he would not go to any considerable expense. "In short," said
he, "I would not have it much better than a barn."--"Well, then,"
replied Jones, "you shall have the handsomest barn in England." The
ceiling was very beautifully painted by Edward Pierce, sen. a pupil of
Vandyke. In 1795, the church was accidentally destroyed by fire, but it
was rebuilt by Mr. Hardwick, in imitation of the original design.
In a note at page 236 of vol. x. of the MIRROR, we adverted to the
disgraceful state of Covent Garden Market, which of late years has been
little better than a public nuisance. The broom of reform at length
promises to cleanse this _Augean_ area; and a new market is in the
course of erection. The design, it will be recollected, was in this
year's Exhibition at Somerset House, and in an early Number we may
probably give a view of the Elevation.
The celebrity of Covent Garden as a depot for vegetable produce is of
considerable antiquity; and it is but reasonable that such an
improvement should be made, consistent with the increased and increasing
wants of this overgrown metropolis, and the augmented supplies which are
poured in from all quarters. When this improvement is completed, it may
lead to the finishing of the quadrangle. The parish (in extent, not in
feeling) is, perhaps, one of the most compact in London; but when its
proximity to the theatres is considered, little surprise can reasonably
be felt at the immorality of the district. It may not be so easy a
matter to mend the public morals as to build new markets; but the links
of popular improvement are too closely connected to make the case
hopeless.
It would be amusing to compare this emporium of fruits and vegetables in
ancient and modern times. At the first enclosure of Covent Garden, in
1635, the supply must have been very scanty. Upon the authority of Hume,
we learn that when Catherine, queen of Henry VIII., was in want of any
salads, carrots, or other edible roots, &c. she was obliged to send a
special messenger to Holland for them. But the mention of water-cresses,
kales, gooseberries, currants, &c., by old writers, appears to
invalidate the pursy historian. The garden must, nevertheless, have
presented a very different appearance to that of our day. Only let the
_gourmand_ take a walk through the avenues of the present Covent
Garden--from the imperial pine, to the emerald leaves sprinkled with
powdered diamonds--_vulgo_, savoys. Then the luscious list of autumnal
fruits, and the peppers, or capsicums, and tomatas, to tickle the
appetite of the veriest epicure of east or western London--not to
mention the exotic fragrance of oranges, which come in just opportunely
to fill up the chasm in the supply of British fruits.
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