for the whole, or any part, of the said works; and for
keeping the same in repair for the term of ten years; the
said works being to be completed within one year from the 3d
of May next.
Note, The number of square yards of the carriage-way is about
20,000; and the quantity of stones to be contracted for will
be 7000 tons, to be delivered in London, within the space
of one year from the 3d of May 1763 to the 3d of May 1764,
according to the following proportions, _viz._ 600 tons in
the month of May, 800 tons in each of the months of June,
July, August, and September, 500 in October, 400 in each of
the months of November, December, and January, and 500 tons
in each of the months of February, March, and April.
Proposals in writing, sealed up, to be delivered in at
Westminster-bridge office, Old Palace-yard, Westminster, on
or before Tuesday the 12th of April next.
By order of the Commissioners,
GEORGE BOX, _Clerk_."
As St. James's-street now is, nothing can be more convenient than the
gradual declination from Piccadilly to the Palace. That the houses
on each side of the way have been almost entirely rebuilt since the
year 1765, will pretty plainly appear from the ensuing lively paper,
inserted in the London Chronicle August 15, 1765:
"We have read a great deal in your paper about Liberty, Mr. Printer;
give me leave to say a word or two about Property, which, talk as they
please, the greatest part of mankind reckon the most valuable of the
two. Our sensible forefathers, in framing the Streets of this great
City, preferred utility to ornament; and, in St. James's-street, they
were very industrious, that the paving of that uneven ground should
not prejudice the property of any individual.--Their wiser sons have
wished to reverse this practice, and have been full as industrious in
conforming the buildings to the Scotch paving. The descent from the
upper to the lower end of this street being so very steep, has brought
very whimsical distresses upon many of the inhabitants--some of the
ground-floors, that were almost level with the street, are now eight,
nine, and some ten steps, and those very steep, from the ground; while
others, to which you used to ascend by three or four steps, are now
as many below the surface. Cellars are now above ground, and some
gentlemen are forced to dive into their own parlours. Many laughable
accidents too have happened from this new method of turning the world
upside-down: some persons, not thinking of the late alterations,
attempting to knock at their own door, have frequently tumbled up
their new-erected steps, while others, who have been used to ascend
to their threshold, have as often, for the same reason, tumbled down;
and their fall had been the greater, from their lifting up their legs
to ascend as usual. An old gouty friend of mine complains heavily; he
has lain, he says, upon the ground-floor for these ten years, and he
chose the house he lives in because there was no step to the door;
and now he is obliged to mount at least nine, before he can get into
his bedchamber, and the entrance into his house is at the one pair of
stairs. A neighbour too complains he has lost a good lodger, because
he refused to lower the price of his first floor, which the gentleman
insisted he ought, as the lodgings are now up two pair of stairs. Many
of the street doors are not above five feet high; and the owners, when
they enter their houses, seem as if they were going into a dog-kennel
rather than their own habitations. To say the truth, no fault can be
imputed to the trustees: but many are great sufferers; and this method
of making the houses conform to the ornamental paving, is something
like the practice of Procrustes, the robber, who made a bed of certain
dimensions, and whoever was put into it, had his legs cut shorter if
they were too long, or stretched out if they were too short, till the
poor wretch was precisely of the length with the bed.
"I am, Sir, yours, &c.
"ANTI-PROCRUSTES."
The exertions of our fathers in the general improvement of houses and
streets have left _us_ little to do. Pure air, so essential to the
preservation of life, now circulates freely through the _new_ streets;
squares, calculated for ornament, health, and the higher ranks of the
community, are judiciously dispersed, and their centres converted into
beautiful gardens; the tall houses have a sufficient number of large
windows; the areas in front are wide, and handsomely railed with cast
iron; lamps on scrollwork are suspended at due distances from each
other; and admirable level smooth footways of great breadth protect the
passenger from the carts and carriages, separated from him by a curb
stone raised several inches above spacious kennels, through which the
water from showers passes and descends into large drains, communicating
with vast sewers many feet below the level of the street.
There are salutary laws providing for the performance of those acts of
cleanliness which individuals might neglect or omit. The inmates of
every house will of course cleanse the steps leading to it; but they
will not _universally_ remove the soil from their pavements. The law
commands them to do so _every_ morning under a penalty of 5_s._; and
yet there are very few who walk the narrow streets of London in winter
can forget the retrograde motion of their feet on the deep mud when the
pavements are--_greasy_. Sir William Curtis, when Lord Mayor, recently
determined to enforce the law--and very honourably _fined himself_.
Scavengers are appointed to sweep the carriage-ways, and carry off the
dirt; and yet there are places to be found where brooms have not always
done their duty. The publick are very properly forbid to throw any
kind of dust into the streets, and are ordered to reserve it for the
Dustman, who is enjoined to call for it frequently; and yet I was once
informed by a housekeeper that their Parish Dustman had not honoured
them with a visit _for six long weeks_. The renters of single rooms,
in first, second, and third floors, in mean streets, feel themselves
_above_ restraint. Those people empty dirty water mixed with their
offals into the gutters, the stench of which is appalling; but I
forget, they certainly do not offend against the law--it is _dust_,
not _water dirtied_, or mixed with dust and vegetables, which they are
forbidden to deposit in the streets.
Let me not neglect in this survey the laudable efforts of the Sweepers
male and female, who, stationed at corners and crossings, faithfully
remove every appearance of soil from the stones for the casual receipt
of half-pence. They are undoubtedly an useful body, and they have my
commendations accordingly.
Beer-houses, or, as they are generally termed, Public Houses, render
our streets extremely unpleasant in summer; but delicacy forbids my
adding more on the subject. Would that equal delicacy in the keepers
would _turn their customers backwards_!
So much for the Streets. Repairing-leases contribute greatly to the
handsome appearance of the Houses; every thing is in order; and the
clause for painting the fronts triennally keeps the woodwork as clean
and bright as our fogs and the coal smoke will permit. The shop-keeper
prides himself on the neatness of his shop-front; his little portico,
and the pilasters and cornices, are imitations of Lydian, serpentine,
porphyry, and verde antique marbles; and those who have the good
fortune to serve any branch of the Royal Family immediately place large
sculptures of their several arms and supporters over their doors, and
their own names and business in golden characters. The great windows
of large panes exhibit the richest manufactures, and the doors of the
Linen drapers are closed by draperies of new muslins and calicoes. Some
wags pretend indeed that the tradesman has a double motive in this
proceeding--the darkening of his premises to prevent keen eyes from
discovering coarse threads, and embellishing his shop.
The Goldsmiths and Jewellers, and some Pawnbrokers, indulge the
publick with the view of diamonds, pearls, rubies, emeralds, gold,
and silver, in most fascinating quantities; but the Watch-makers and
Glassmen eclipse all competitors in the display of fanciful clocks set
in alabastor, or _molu_, gold and silver, and the richest cut glass
lighted by patent lamps at night. The Bookseller exposes copies of the
most expensive works in his windows, and the Printsellers those of the
best artists. The Undertaker covers his panes with escutcheons, crowns,
coronets, and mitres of gold; and contrives to introduce the lid of a
little velvet coffin, which is intended to lead the eye to full-sized
real ones preparing for the dead.
The Lottery-office-keeper attracts a crowd by numbers of tickets and
shares disposed for sale, and always places a paper _memento_ at
the elbow, of "No. &c. &c. sold at this office in the last lottery,
drawn a prize of 30,000_l._" Hence the Lucky Office and _Only_ Lucky
Office[403:A].
The retailer of Quack Medicines covers every pane of his shop-windows
with the bills of different compounders of nostrums, and the angles
between the paper and the sashes with transparent vivid colours; and
the Proprietors of Newspapers seize upon every battle or capture as
fair opportunities for pasting large pieces of paper together, which
they inscribe "Sixth edition," &c. &c. and suspend from the top to the
bottom of their casements; while their myrmidons the Newsmen reiterate
the "Sixth edition" with distended lungs in the short intervals between
the--I had almost said--infernal blasts of their tin trumpets. Let the
purchaser, however, beware the Newsman doth not give him a paper or
gazette--three weeks old--_in the hurry of the moment_!
Such are the methods adopted by the London Tradesmen to attract
attention, and such the appearance of the lower part of their Houses:
indeed, Commodities are now generally used in place of the antient
Signs. One of their _absurdities_ deserves reprehension: when a man
has a front door between two windows, or a door on the right side of a
window, he will have his name over the door, and his business on the
friezes of the windows; for instance,
Window Door Window
--+---------------+-------+---------------+--
| GOLDSMITH AND | BROWN | JEWELLER, &c. |
+---------------+-------+---------------+
instead of "Brown, goldsmith and jeweller." The nonsense produced in
this way is sometimes incredibly ludicrous. I once observed the words
"Preston, Nightman, and Rubbish carted," so placed that they conveyed
an idea of a partnership "Preston and _Rubbish_."
[Illustration: _View in Hyde Park_]
[Illustration: _View in Park-lane_]
[Illustration: _Westminster Abbey_]
[Illustration: _Westminster Abbey_]
[Illustration: _Part of Westminster bridge_]
[Illustration: _Westminster from Milbank_]
The noble fronts of the several Banking-houses and Insurance offices,
many of the latter with fine emblematic statues over the doors, are
great ornaments to the streets of London.
The interior architecture of our dwellings is generally very
convenient; but I could wish that the kitchens might henceforward be
erected behind the house, that no human being should be immersed in
damp, and blinded with darkness, as our servants now are, seven or
eight feet below the surface of the street.
It will be perceived that every thing under this article has now
been noticed which is independent of the information already given
in "Londinium Redivivum." I shall, therefore, conclude it with
referring the reader to the annexed Prints, where he will find
sketches of various parts of London which I have considered as the
most picturesque, the whole contributing to illustrate the _general
character_ of the Metropolis.
FOOTNOTES:
[359:A] Mungo Park confirms this supposition by his description of
the mud walls and thatched roofs of the Savages in Africa, where
civilization has not yet made its appearance.
[364:A] See specimens of brick-work in the annexed prints, of Croydon
palace, and a curious gateway, dated 1599, near Bromley, Kent.
[366:A] The _Minced pie_ House is at Greenwich, and was built by
Vanbrugh. The ludicrous title is a witticism upon the architecture.--It
is an unfortunate circumstance that the two old houses in
Goswell-street are just rebuilt; and the view of Privy-garden is _now_
incorrect, through alterations made since the Plate was engraved.
[403:A] The expensive and absurd methods lately adopted by
Lottery-office keepers and many other tradesmen to invite customers are
too contemptible for serious notice.
CHAP. X.
SKETCH OF THE PRESENT STATE OF SOCIETY IN LONDON.
When a Londoner of the lowest class receives his employer's permission
to relax from the labours of his profession, he endeavours to obtain
the company of several of his acquaintance. Observe them assembled,
and mark their _costume_: they wear a round hat, like those of Men of
fashion, placed far back on the head, covering a collection of long
lank hair, which shades the features composed of vacancy and impudence;
the neck is clothed in a coarse muslin cravat folded in ungraceful
lines over a monstrous stiffener, which, defying compression, leaves
a great opening between the _poma Adami_ and it, from which the chin
emerges and retires forty times in an hour. The coat is generally of
dark blue or brown lapelled, the waistcoat of white or printed cotton,
and the legs are covered either by pantaloons or breeches and white
cotton stockings. Their progress through the streets is marked by
impetuosity and a constant exertion of strength, making the peaceable
Citizen with his wife and children retire to the entrance of a house,
or cross the kennel, in order to avoid being hurried forward with
them, or overturned. Their conversation consists of violent disputes
and execrations, often degenerating into whimsical effusions of
retort, peculiar to this branch of the great human tree, accompanied
by occasional observations on the Females who unfortunately pass them.
I must acknowledge myself more than once to have been surprised into
risibility by this species of wit, for which the speaker deserved a
horse-whip. The constant exercise of obscenity and gross allusion
prevails when a neighbour's female servant, or a sister of one of the
party, is present. We will not follow them across the Fields, but
meet them seated at one of those inviting scenes which may be found
on every side of London called Tea-gardens, where Tea indeed seldom
makes its appearance. A few miserable bushes tortured into arbours veil
in some degree the hateful exhibitions at these places, the licensed
receptacles for mental degradation, receptacles for young men and young
women, who are seated on benches before tables covered with _liquor
and tobacco-pipes_! What can be expected from these assemblages but
the inevitable consequences, drunkenness and debauchery? Their effects
are observable whenever any public occurrence assembles the people of
London; the whole Civil Power of which cannot restrain many enormities
committed on those occasions. Under an idea of whim and pleasantry they
perpetrate many scandalous actions, amusing themselves by throwing some
filthy thing into the thickest part of a crowd, or driving forward
till they half suffocate those before them, or hurt others by severe
falls. Whenever an illumination takes place, their turbulence becomes
seriously mischievous by the firing of pistols and throwing of squibs
and crackers; but the latter practices, I hope, are now entirely
subdued by the Magistracy.
This class is fond of Theatrical amusements; and numbers may be
observed waiting on an evening before the doors of the Theatres
impatient and crowding for admission. The Pickpocket is always ready;
but his operations are often frustrated by the Peace-officer's constant
exclamation of "Take care of your pockets." When the door is opened,
a dangerous trial of skill ensues: every person endeavours to enter
first; the space is clogged; and pushing, screams, and execrations
follow. If we enter the One-shilling Gallery, we witness constant
disputes often terminating in blows, and observe heated bodies
stripped of the outward garments, furious faces, with others grinning
horribly, hear loud and incessant talking and laughter, beating the
floor with sticks, hissing, clapping the hands, and the piercing
whistle, with exclamations for "Musick."
This motley collection are, however, generally attentive spectators and
patient auditors during the representations; and I have remarked that
any generous sentiment from the characters on the stage never fails to
receive the loudest tokens of applause from the One-shilling Gallery;
but this Gallery becomes a very troublesome appendage to the Theatre,
when their highnesses divide into two parties, one for, and the other
against the repetition of a pleasing song. This is particularly felt in
the performance of a favourite Opera or Musical Farce.
The next stage is that of Journeymen; thousands of whom have been
steady well-behaved youths, in the practice of passing their evenings
and holidays in rational pursuits with parents or friends, and
who enter upon their profession determined to render themselves
respectable, and their connexions happy. With such I have nothing
to do; there is too much still-life for description in the man who
rises at six in the morning, and works without cessation till six in
the evening. His intervals of amusement may be directed to the same
objects, Tea-gardens, public Exhibitions, and the Theatres; but his
conduct is so properly governed, that Temperance and Pleasure dance in
his features.
Those whose characteristic outline I have traced before work, perhaps,
three days in the week. Sunday they appropriate to the same species
of relaxation to which they accustomed themselves in apprenticeship:
Monday is sainted with them. And who will work on _Saint Monday_? Not
the idle Journeyman and Labourer of London. Unfortunately the votaries
of this Saint celebrate his name with libations of Beer and Gin, the
fumes of which render them unfit for work on Tuesday. On Wednesday
they begin the week; not by a close attention to their business, as
their employers find to the extent of vexation and disappointment,
but by repeated potations of beer, which a boy brings at stated hours
all through the day; by retiring at twelve o'clock to dinner, and
frequently returning at four, and going again to _tea_ at four, if they
should _accidentally_ get to work at one. The excessive use of the
former soporific beverage renders the Journeyman stupid, fretful, and
quarrelsome, which any person may perceive by passing a public house
at almost any period of the day. At the close of the week necessity
compels this description of madmen to work; for, Saturday arriving, he
must procure the means of redeeming his own and his wife's clothes from
that _most respectable member of society_ the Pawnbroker. And this is
the labouring life of at least thirty thousand persons at present in
London!
Their domestic _amusements_ chiefly consist in disputes with a Wife,
who finds herself and children sacrificed to the brutal propensities
of Drinking and Idleness; and the scene of contention is intolerable,
if the lady possesses a high spirit; so entirely so to the husband,
that he fixes himself for the evening with a party at the public
house, where he is at first entertained, and entertains in turn, on
the thriving subject of Politicks, culled from the delightful themes
of so many thousands massacred in one place, and as many in another.
As the night advances, the Journeyman becomes whimsical; one of the
company is requested to sing, the rest join in chorus; and another hour
elapses in a chaos of sounds equally insulting to the general quiet of
the publick and the neighbourhood. By this time the Wife peeps through
the windows, hoping to find a favourable opportunity of getting the
sot to bed; which if she accomplishes without a kicking, she may be
pronounced a lucky woman for that evening. A sober inhabitant of London
cannot but be shocked at the staggering fellow-citizens he meets with
late on a summer evening, labouring under a voluntary St. Vitus's
dance, when returning to their homes. I saw a man of this description
in Russel-square, who had placed his hat on the pavement, and danced
round it. To this ludicrous exhibition all eyes were directed. "Ah!"
said an old female to another, "that man would never drink again could
he see himself with our sensations."
There are thirty-six public-houses in Old-street between Goswell-street
and the City-road. Can they be supported by the population of that
neighbourhood without endless excesses? And there are other districts
where those curses to society are equally numerous? Shame on our
thoughtless conduct in permitting a trade calculated only for human
destruction! If comfort, health, and pleasure can arise from quaffing
gallons of beer, let the lower classes be compelled to drink it at home
with their friends and families; and no longer suffer that promiscuous
mixture of folly and vice which results from thieves drinking with
honest men. It is from this cause alone that men are brutalized.
Difference of opinion will arise between members of the most polished
classes: those become quarrels in the lower; and hence the petty
actions for assaults which are tried in every direction. Examine the
Old Bailey causes; and if Public-houses and Dram-shops are not found to
be the general theatres of thieving plots and murders, let me receive
no farther credit.
London and the environs are overwhelmed with population. Every
description of the inhabitants of the Country watch for favourable
opportunities of removing to this enormous magnet; or, if that cannot
be accomplished, they send their offspring of both sexes. Hundreds
of servant girls and apprentices are thus prepared annually for
prostitution and thoughtless marriages; every room in numbers of
streets becomes the residence of Apprentices, Journeymen, their wives,
and multitudes of children, who starve away existence year after year
in hopeless sameness, and are often separated from Vice only by a deal
or lath and plaster partition. The consequences of this crowded state
of the City are so well known, that it is hardly necessary to point
them out. I shall however venture to direct the Reader's attention to
the Alms-houses, Work-houses, Charity Schools, Hospitals, and Prisons,
which surround us; and ask whence they are filled? Who turns his
attention to the second-floors, the garrets, the back-rooms, and the
cellars of this Metropolis? It would be wrong to say no one; but who
relates the result of his research? It may be imagined Hogarth has
given us a true picture in his Distressed Poet: that print may serve
as a foundation; a few additions of the _sombre_ cast would furnish
thousands of real scenes.
The next class of crowded residents are persons with small incomes,
who are compelled by great rents and heavy taxes to occupy furnished
and unfurnished first and second floors. Those are generally healthy,
and comfortably situated; but their eternal removals indicate that
discontent and altercation exist but too frequently between the
landlord's family and the lodger. Kitchens used in common by both
parties are sources of discord; the cleansing of stairs ascended by
all the inhabitants of the house is another; and the late hours of
the latter a third. It is therefore common to see the streets almost
obstructed every quarter-day with cart-loads of furniture.