THE STREETS
The mediæval regulations as to the cleanliness and order of the town
leave nothing to desire, for they were minute, precise, and continually
repeated. If they were passed by the London County Council of to-day
they could not be clearer or more satisfactory.
Thus (A.D. 1282) it was ordered that every trade in the City should
present to the Mayor a list of those practising that trade; by which
means the Mayor and Aldermen would have accessible a Directory of
the City: those not on the list had no right to remain in the City.
Aldermen, also, were to learn who were staying at the hostels, and what
was their business in the City. Curfew was rung at eight every night
at St. Martin le Grand, St. Laurence, and All Hallows Barking. At a
later period it was rung at St. Paul’s and St. Mary le Bow. At curfew
the gates were to be closed; and taverns and brewers were to shut up;
and no one was to walk about the streets. In every ward six men were to
watch all night: the sergeants of Queenhithe and Billingsgate were to
see that all boats were moored at night: no one was to cross the river
after dark: and each sergeant was to have his boat kept in readiness
with a crew of four men, to guard the river. No one was to walk about
the streets at night.
In 1297 a similar proclamation was made. In the same year it was
ordered, in addition, that everybody was to keep the front before
his own house clean; that low pentices were to be removed; and that
no pig-sties were to be allowed in the streets. By this time four
pig-killers had been appointed, but it is evident that little had been
done to enforce the law.
In 1304 a capture of rioters had been effected. Nine men were returned
to prison as common “roreres” and night-walkers.
In 1309 the condition of the streets called for another ordinance.
No man was to throw ordure or refuse into the streets; it was to be
carted down to the river, there to be placed in boats provided for the
purpose, or to be carried out of the town to the lay-stalls beyond the
walls. The fine for the first offence was 40d., for the second and
subsequent offences, half a mark.
In 1311 there was renewed activity in sending to prison “roreres,”
street walkers, male and female, vagabonds, beggars, dicers, and
gamblers.
In 1312 it was ordered that the gates should not only be closed at
curfew, but that chains should be drawn across them on either side, and
that they should be guarded by twelve, or at least eight, men every
night, and sixteen, or at least twelve, men every day. The warders
were ordered to have a watch on the top of the gate to warn them of
the approach of armed men, and to put up the chains and to lower the
portcullis if armed men attempted to enter.
In the year 1321, when trouble first began between King Edward II. and
his nobles, the Mayor and Aldermen were summoned before the King’s
Council at Westminster, and asked whether they would be “willing to
preserve the King’s City of London to the use of him and his heirs as
being the heritage of them, the Mayor and citizens, and at their own
peril.”
They replied that they would so preserve the City, and they drew up in
writing the method which they proposed to adopt:—
“The manner in which the safe-keeping of the City ought to be performed—
“That is to say: that the Mayor and Aldermen shall be properly armed,
in manner as pertains to them and all their household. And that every
Alderman shall cause to assemble in his Ward, in such place as he
shall think best, the most proved and most wise men of his Ward; and
that they, to prevent perils that may arise to the City—the which may
God forbid—shall survey all the hostels of the Ward, in which they
understand any strangers or suspected persons to be lodged; and that
they shall enjoin such manner of hostelers and herbergeours, that they
shall not harbour or receive any persons whomsoever, if they will not
be answerable for their deeds and their trespasses, if in any way they
offend.
“And that every Alderman, in his own Ward, shall cause all those of
the Ward to be assessed to arms; that so they may be armed according
as their condition demands, for maintaining the peace of our Lord the
King, and saving and preserving the same in the said City.
“And that all the Gates of the City shall be well guarded by day and
by night; that is to say, every gate by day, by 12 men, strong and
vigorous, and well instructed, and well armed; so as to overlook those
entering and going forth, if perchance any one be suspected of coming
to do mischief to the City; and by night, by 24 men: so that those who
keep ward by day, come at sunrise, and remain until sunset; and those
who keep watch at night, come at sunset, and remain until sunrise. And
that the bedels of the Wards of those who are summoned to keep ward
shall be there ready with the names of those upon whom they have made
summons, before the Aldermen of their Wards.
“And that every Alderman shall come there at the hour aforesaid, to see
that those who are summoned to keep ward are strong and powerful men,
and well and sufficiently armed.
“And that every night all the great gates shall be closed at sunset by
the Warders thereunto assigned; that is to say, by two of the loyal
and most powerful men of all the Ward, and sworn thereunto; and that
the wickets of the gates shall be kept open until curfew rung out at
St. Martin le Grand; and that then, all the wickets shall be closed,
for all the night through, that so no one enter until Prime rung at St.
Thomas of Acon: and then all the wickets shall be opened until sunrise,
at which time the great gates shall be first opened.
“And that above the gates, and upon the walls between the gates of the
City, there shall be placed sufficient people for watch and ward, that
so no men-at-arms or other persons approach the walls or the gates,
for doing mischief to the City. And if any one shall approach there
in manner aforesaid, then the horn is to be sounded, that the nearest
guards may be warned to come to such spot in defence of the City.
“And that those who are assigned to a certain guard, shall not, for any
noise, for any cry, or for any affray, elsewhere in the City, in any
manner depart from their guard; unless by the Mayor or by the Aldermen
they be commanded so to do.
“And that every night there shall be ordained 200 men, well armed, or
more, according as need demands, to go throughout the City to keep the
peace, and to aid those who keep watch at the gates, if need be.
“And that no ship or boat shall moor or lie to at night, elsewhere than
in the hythes of Billyngesgate and Queen Hythe, from sunset, namely,
to sunrise. And that two good and strong boats shall be provided on
the Thames at night, with armed men, on the one side of London Bridge,
towards the West, and two boats on the other side, towards the East; so
as to guard the water by night, and watch that no one may enter this
part of the City to do mischief; and, if they see peril, to warn the
people of those Wards which are keeping guard upon the water.”
In 1334 another proclamation was made to the same effect as those
of 1282, 1297, 1309, 1312, and 1334. In this case an additional
prohibition was made. No one was to wear a “false face,” meaning a mask.
In 1353 the old proclamation is issued with additions. Hostelers shall
not allow their guests to go around with arms or armour; strangers were
not to carry weapons of any kind; every citizen was to aid the officers
of the City in keeping order; no one was to harbour criminals; no one
was to make “covin, confederacy, or alliance.”
In 1356 the bad roads just outside the Gates were taken into
consideration, and a toll was ordered; for every cart, one penny, for
every horse, one farthing.
In 1357 the King called the attention of the Mayor to the disgusting
condition of the river banks, and ordered them to be cleansed. In
consequence a Proclamation was made that no one was to throw refuse
into the streets or on the river banks.
In 1367 it was ordered that lay-stalls should not be placed near the
water beside the Tower. A lay-stall was a large shallow depression,
generally a pond, into which ordure and filth of all kinds were thrown.
In 1371 the King himself ordered that there should be no killing of
cattle, sheep, and pigs at the shambles, but that the _abattoirs_ of
the City should be at Stratford le Bow on one side of the town, and
at Knightsbridge at the other. I am not aware that any record exists
to show obedience to this order. But in the same year the Mayor
established a tax at Smithfield of one penny for a horse, a halfpenny
for an ox, a penny for eight sheep, and a penny for four pigs, the tax
to be paid both by the vendor and the purchaser, and the proceeds to be
devoted to cleansing Smithfield.
[Illustration: VIEW of the RUINS of Part of the late CHURCH of S^T.
LEONARD, _and the Steeple of S^t. Vedast Foster Lane._
VIEW OF THE CRYPT ON THE SITE OF THE LATE COLLEGE OF
S^.T MARTIN LE GRAND,
From _Londina Illustrata_.]
In 1372 another Royal Proclamation was issued against the defilement of
the bank. This kind of proclamation always proved futile, because no
one could enforce it.
In 1379 another order of the Common Council was made about keeping
the streets clean. This time the Corporation seems to have recognised
the absurdity of prohibiting what they could not prevent. They no
longer forbid the citizens the throwing of “ordure, filth, rubbish and
shavings” into the kennels, but they say that they must not throw those
things into the kennels except in the time of rain so that they will be
washed away, and they give the Officers of the Wards power to use loam,
sand, and gravel carts for the purpose of carrying off the refuse and
cleaning the kennels.
The result of many centuries’ conversion of the streets into sewers
was of course the saturation of the soil with poisonous matter, which
powerfully assisted the spread of plague.
These are the principal regulations as to the cleaning of the streets
during a hundred years, all of the same tenor, thirteen proclamations
and orders—that is to say, one in every eight years—and no effect
produced.
I have made one or two notes from Riley’s _Memorials_ on other points
connected with the government of the City. Thus, in 1288 it was ordered
that the course of Walbrook was to be kept clean. In 1374 a lease
was granted of the Moor to a certain person coupled with the duty of
keeping the Walbrook reasonably clean. Along the Walbrook every house
had its latrine built out over the bed of the stream, and for each, at
one time, a rent of 12d. was paid yearly. The now greatly narrowed bed
of the stream was constantly becoming choked with the accumulation of
filth of all kinds thrown into it: the slender stream was not strong
enough as of old, before the wall was built, to carry things down to
its mouth.
There were public latrines along the river bank—sometimes built out on
quays, sometimes on piers, roofed. The Master of the Temple was bound
to keep up one on the “Temple bridge,” _i.e._ the Temple pier, to which
access was the right of the public. We hear also of a public latrine
without the postern where now Moor Lane begins. It was condemned as
a nuisance, A.D. 1415, and was removed. Another public latrine was
at Bishopsgate just without the gate, probably built over the ditch.
The City gates continued, down to the time of their removal, to have
lay-stalls and heaps of filth and rubbish lying piled without them.
Probably there was a public latrine outside every gate. That of
Bishopsgate was also condemned, and another constructed just within the
walls over the much-enduring bed of the Walbrook. In other places, the
cesspool added its contamination to whatever part of the soil escaped
the contamination of the street. The first construction of the cesspool
was in the reign of Henry III. We shall find, presently, certain wise
laws as to its isolation.
There were men in every ward appointed to be “sweepers of litter,” and
they were sometimes called “rakers.”
Scavagers were officers who took custom upon the Scavage (showage) of
imported goods. They also discharged various other duties, one of which
was to see that precautions were taken in case of fire. Later, they
kept pavements in repair and looked after streets and lanes, so that
they gradually became what we now call scavengers, giving the name of
an honourable occupation to a menial office. On this word Professor
Skeat sends me the following remarks:—
“Another London word is _scavenger_; the solution of which, without
the _Liber Albus_, would have been hopeless. It arose in a way we
could never have suspected, and could never have anticipated; and it
shows the futility of guessing. To begin with, the old sense was quite
different, and the old form was not _scavenger_, but _scavager_. The
man whom we now call a _scavenger_ was formerly called a _raker_;
Langland tells us that, amongst the company in the tavern of which
I have already spoken, there was ‘a raker of Cheapside,’ _i.e._ one
who had to rake the filth together and keep the street clean. The
inspection of streets came to be included among the duties of a
_scavager_, but this was not so at first. Originally, his business was
_scavage_; and _scavage_ meant the inspection of imported goods, which
had to be submitted or shown to the _scavagers_, or inspectors. As to
the word _scavage_ itself, it is a Norman coinage meaning ‘show-age’
or exhibition, coined in an extraordinary fashion by adding the French
suffix _-age_ (as seen in _porter-age_, or _broker-age_), to the
Middle-English word _schaw-en_, which we now pronounce as _show_. And
the net result is, that, once upon a time, a _scavenger_ was one who
was busied about the ‘inspection’ of imported goods; which is quite a
recondite point of history. And it is clear to me, though the fact has
never been made out before, that—when we come to consider that Chaucer
was controller of the City Customs, that it was his special duty to
inspect the imports of wool, and that wool was one of the commodities
on which there was a duty of twelve-pence for every ‘cark’ or load—it
is clear to me (as I said before) that Geoffrey Chaucer the poet was,
by occupation, neither more nor less than a scavenger.”
Complaints were made in 1298 that the people took the stones from the
wall and the timber from the gates, so that both wall and gates were
falling into ruin.
In 1302 one Thomas Bat, being haled before the Mayor on a charge of
neglecting to put tiles instead of thatch on his houses, offered to
indemnify the City in case of any fire happening by reason of his
thatch. The offer was accepted on the understanding that the thatch was
to be removed by a certain time. The _naïveté_ of Mr. Bat in offering,
and the City in accepting, an indemnity in case of fire is truly
remarkable. What would Mr. Bat have done, how far would his personal
estate have gone, if a quarter of the City had been burned down by
reason of his thatch?
Some entries are very remarkable. In 1308 a “supervisor” of barbers was
appointed. Why of barbers? In another place it is hinted that barbers
allowed their shops to become places of assignation; and in another
place they were ordered not to ply their trade on Sundays. Furriers
are not to scour their furs in Cheapside. Turners who made the wooden
measures are ordered to make no measures but those of the gallon, the
potell (or half gallon), and the quart, and not to make any of the
false measures called chopins and “gylles.” But why were the chopin and
the gill false measures? White tawyers and megusers were not to flay
horses in the City: were there, then, no knackers’ yards?
The paving of the City did not become general until the fourteenth
century. Even then, in 1372, we find “the Pavement” before the Friars
Minors in Newgate Street mentioned as if it were a distinguishing
feature of that street. Perhaps the explanation is that the roadway
itself was paved for the convenience of the poultry market there.
Paving was required of every householder before his own house, but the
middle of the street was paved by means of the tax called Pavage. By
means of this tax, every cart that entered the gates paid a penny. But
a cart carrying sand or clay paid 3d. a week, and a cart carrying corn
and flour paid the same: a cart laden with firewood paid 1/4d., and a
cart with charcoal paid 1d. But carts and horses carrying provisions
for private consumption paid nothing.
In 1334 certain foreign merchants were exempted from the toll or tax of
Pavage except before their own hostels. Riley thinks that the pavement
for the Poultry Market in Newgate Street, and other open spaces used
as markets, consisted of “rough layers of stones.” But the paviors
formed a separate craft, and their pay was regulated at so much a toise
(7½ feet) in length. This indicates some skill and knowledge, which
certainly would not be wanted for “rough layers of stones.”
The dangers of the night were always present in the minds of the
sober citizens. When the streets were without light—which was the
case practically, in spite of regulations and ordinances, till the
eighteenth century—and without a patrol, the way of the robbers and
murderers was easy. The danger varied; sometimes, especially in time
of foreign war, the streets were comparatively quiet; sometimes,
especially when the soldiers returned, they were filled with violence,
brawls, and robberies. A strong Alderman in a Ward suppressed
disorders: indeed, it is most certain that it was easy to find out
the character of every man in the Ward; a weak Alderman encouraged
evil-doers: and it was always easy for a malefactor to get across the
river in a boat and find safety in those parts of Southwark where the
City had no jurisdiction. The worst time ever known in London for this
kind of disorder was certainly towards the end of the twelfth century,
unless, perhaps, it was a hundred years later, when King Edward
suppressed the Mayor for twelve years.
As for the craftsman, on Saturdays work was knocked off at Vespers,
that is, at 4 P.M. The shops stood open on the ground floor with wide
windows, glazed at the top or not at all. The selds, of which we hear
so much, were places for storage and warehousing first, and shops next.
Thus North and South Shields are the north and south selds. One of the
streets, as Broad Street, for example, had two kennels or gutters, the
others only one. Many laws were passed about pigs, which were allowed
to be kept within the house, one supposes in the garden or back-yard,
but not in the streets.
The lawlessness that was continually breaking out in the streets is
abundantly illustrated in the pages of Riley. Thus, there was the
quarrel between the saddlers and the painters in 1327. It began with
“contumelious” words between William de Karleton, saddler, and William
de Stokwell, a painter: their friends arranged for the dispute between
them to be settled by arbitration of six persons on either side, and
a “day of love,” _i.e._ of reconciliation, was appointed to be held
at St. Paul’s Cathedral. Unfortunately the painter went about making
mischief and got together all the painters, joiners, loriners, and
gilders in the City, so that they agreed to stand by each other, and
in case of dispute or offence to close their selds until the case was
adjusted. This was naturally followed by a fight in the streets, in
which many were killed or wounded. The case was brought before the
Mayor and Aldermen, by whom a Committee of Arbitration, consisting of
six Aldermen, was appointed. The Aldermen heard the case on both sides,
and chose six men of each trade, by whom articles of agreement were
arrived at and a day of love was named.
The water supply of the City was in its early history abundant. There
were wells, springs, and streams everywhere. Through the wall of the
City flowed the Walbrook, fed by one spring at least within the City.
This stream received half-a-dozen affluents before it reached the wall.
Outside there were the springs of Clerkenwell, the Holy Well, Sadler’s
Well, and others falling into the River of Wells or Fleet River: in the
Strand there were small streams flowing down to the Thames from what
is now the site of Covent Garden. And within the City there were many
wells of pure water: in Broad Street, at Aldgate, at St. Antholin’s
Church, at St. Paul’s Churchyard, at the Grey Friars, at Aldersgate, at
many private houses; the number of these wells can never be discovered,
because the Fire of London choked them, and they were built over and
forgotten. When Furnival’s Inn was destroyed quite recently, old wells
were found below the foundations. There was also the Thames water,
which at certain periods of the ebb tide was tolerably pure, if it was
taken some distance from the bank.
When the Walbrook became an open sewer, and the Fleet River defiled
with every kind of refuse, it was necessary to obtain a supply of water
from outside. In the reign of Henry III. (1236) a conduit of stone was
erected at Marylebone for the reception of water from the Tyburn. (See
p. 24.)
There were nine conduits or bosses set up in different parts of the
City, but all on the western side of Walbrook. Three of these conduits
were in Chepe, one opposite Honey Lane, another where Chepe becomes the
Poultry, and a third, the Little Conduit, at the west end of Chepe,
just east of the present statue of Sir Robert Peel. Another conduit
stood in Snow Hill. It was repaired and restored in 1577 by one Lamb,
who connected it with a spring on the site of the drinking fountain
before the Foundling Hospital. The City on the east of Walbrook was
supplied by wells, especially by a well opposite the future site of
the Royal Exchange. The great conduit of Cornhill called the Standard
was not set up until 1581. An earlier conduit, however, was that at
Aldgate, which brought water from Hackney. The New River water was
brought into the New River Head in the year 1613.
When there was no well within reach and no “boss,” water was carried
about by men. Those who lived on the banks of the river used the
river water for their workshops and other purposes. Southwark was
supplied partly from a great pond in St. Mary Overies open to any
high tide, partly from springs, and partly from streams. In the City
itself there were many springs, especially in the lanes ascending from
Thames Street. But water had to be fetched. Therefore, the breweries
were all placed on the river bank; and also as many of the industries
requiring water as could find place there. As every gallon of water had
to be paid for or carried by a servant, it is obvious that personal
cleanliness could only be regarded in houses where money was plentiful
or the service sufficient. We must not, however, conclude that the
mediæval citizen went always unwashed; there were “stews,” or places
for hot baths—which became notorious places of resort; and in great
houses and castles the visitor was always conducted to the bath-room on
arrival. The craftsmen, one supposes, were in the fourteenth century
exactly like the craftsmen of the eighteenth century in this respect,
that is to say, they did not often bathe.
The scarcity of water affected the house even more than the people
in it. Where was the water for the continual scrubbing of floors and
stairs on which the modern housekeeper insists? There was none. The
ground floors were of hard clay: and, as we have seen, they were
covered with rushes, which were not too often changed: the bedrooms
were strewn with flowers in the summer, and with sweet herbs of all
kinds in the winter: but all the rooms, as one would expect where there
was little washing and little ventilation, were pestered with vermin.
Wilkinson (_Londina Illustrata_, vol. i.) gives an account of the City
conduits:—
“In addition to the Great and Little Conduits in West-Cheap, the
other public reservoirs of London consisted of the following. The
Tun upon Cornhill, furnished with a cistern in 1401; the Standard in
West-Cheap, supplied with water 1431; the Conduit in Aldermanbury, and
the Standard in Fleet-Street, made and finished by the executors of
Sir William Eastfield in 1471; the Cisterns erected at the Standard
in Fleet-Street, Fleet-Bridge, and without Cripplegate, in 1478; the
Conduit in Grass-Street, made in 1491; the Conduit at Holborn Cross,
erected about 1491, and rebuilt by William Lambe, in 1577, whence it
was called Lambe’s Conduit; the Little Conduit at the Stocks Market,
built about 1500; the Conduit at Bishopsgate, about 1513; the Conduit
at London Wall against Coleman-Street, about 1528; the Conduit without
Aldgate, supplied with water from Hackney, about 1535; the Conduit in
Lothbury and Coleman-Street, near the Church, about 1546; the Conduit
of Thames water at Dowgate, in 1568.” “Of the fore-mentioned conduits
of fresh water that serve the city,” adds Richard Blome, in reference
to their state after the Great Fire, “the greater part of them do still
continue where first erected; but some, by reason of the great quantity
of ground they took up, standing in the midst of the City, were a great
hindrance, not only to foot-passengers, but to porters, coaches, and
cars; and were therefore thought fit to be taken down and to be removed
to places more convenient and not of that resort of people; so that
the water is still the same. The Conduits taken away and removed with
their cisterns are the Great Conduit at the east end of Cheapside; the
Great Conduit called the Tun in Cornhill; the Standard in Cheapside;
the Little Conduit at the west end of Cheapside; the Conduit in
Fleet Street; the Great Conduit in Grass-Church Street; the Conduit
without Aldgate; the Conduit at Dowgate.”[5] The final disuse of these
aqueducts took place about 1701. The Conduit at the Stocks Market after
its re-erection appears to have been celebrated principally for the
fine statue placed over it by Sir Robert Viner, the whole of which was
removed for the building of the present Mansion House in 1739.
[5] _Londina Illustrata_, vol. i.
The accounts of the “Masters” of the Great Conduit in Chepe for the
year 1350 (see Riley, _Memorials of London_, pp. 264, 265) touch on
many points of interest. They show that the conduit was maintained
and kept in repair by a rate levied on the houses of Chepe and the
Poultry, and that this rate varied from 5s. to 6s. 8d.; that the whole
line of the pipes was examined, which examination led to the repair
of the fountain head at Tyburn, also to bringing a branch pipe to the
King’s Mews at Charing Cross, mending the pipe between the Mews and the
Windmill, Haymarket, withdrawing the fountain-head twice a quarter, and
mending the pipe at Fleet Bridge, etc. The pay of the workmen was 8d. a
day with a penny for drink, called _none chenche_, _i.e._ non-quencher,
whence our word _nuncheon_ or luncheon. The conduit as well as that at
the other end of Chepe was provided with “tankards,” _i.e._ vessels
shaped like a cone, narrow at the top, holding three gallons and
provided with a stopper and a handle by which they could be carried.
The men who took the water from the conduit to the houses were called
Cobbs, or Water-leaders.
In the matter of crowding we must not exaggerate. The City was crowded
even in the time of Henry V., but not nearly so crowded as it became
later on. There were still fair gardens in it, extensive gardens,
with fruit trees and lawns and flowers, all over the City, especially
on the northern and eastern sides, where land was of less value than
elsewhere. Every Monastic House had its garden, St. Paul’s Churchyard
was on its south side a great garden, the Companies’ Halls had their
gardens, the churchyards were spots of greenery, and there were whole
streets whose houses looked out upon broad stretches of open garden
ground. I have mentioned the way in which the great nobles’ and
merchants’ houses stood about in the narrow streets among the tenements
and workmen’s houses. These town houses were in the City until the
nobles began to build palaces along the river for the sake of the open
air and the pleasantness. Many of the town houses had been deserted,
sold, and pulled down before the end of the sixteenth century.
In the main thoroughfares it was at some time or other found necessary
to rank the houses, the stalls, and the selds, in line along both
sides of the street; the earliest representation of Cheapside shows
such a line. But with the bye-streets this was by no means the case.
Their _raison d’être_ was the passage from one main artery to another.
How did the merchandise get itself carried out of Thames Street
and from the Quays? By means of the narrow ways from Thames Street
north. Observe that these were for the most part straight, because
the easiest way to carry a burden up a short hill is to take it with
a run; the porters ran straight up the hill to Eastcheap and walked
thence to London Bridge, Cheapside, the markets of London, and the high
roads, north, south, east, and west. In other parts of the City the
bye-streets were not always, or even generally, straight. Was it that
the lane was formed by the proverbial cows following each other? Not
at all. There was no cow, in other words, the cow was not consulted
in forming the lane. It was for this reason. The craftsmen gathered
together, each according to his own trade and with his fellows for
convenience of production, price, and common furnaces and appliances;
it was necessary that there should be a lane of communication from
the place of work to the place of sale; the workmen, however, set up
their houses, without much regard to this lane of communication, beside
each other (see also p. 251), opposite to each other, at right angles,
anyhow, and the lane wound its way through and among these houses; at
first there were gardens behind the houses, but, when the ground became
more valuable, courts and narrow streets were thrust through these
gardens—Ogilby’s map of 1677 (see _London in the Time of the Stuarts_)
shows in parts the very process of building through the gardens. We
must again remind ourselves that in the early centuries there were no
attempts to make the streets straight, except for those which were
wanted for the main thoroughfares, and for convenience of carriage.
Even as late as the seventeenth century, and after the fire, there were
streets where the houses projected right across the roadway. In Mark
Lane one house projected twelve feet. I have in some places thought
that indications of the former projections may still be discovered,
but cannot insist upon the theory in any single instance. Most of them,
certainly, were either entirely removed or greatly reduced, and the
houses were set in line after the Great Fire. Illustrations of the way
in which a street wound and turned among houses, built without regard
to line, may be found in many old villages; especially in Bunyan’s
village of Elstow, where many of the houses are quite irregular, and
the road (wider than a London bye-street) follows the houses rather
than the reverse. In this way, especially, the lanes or narrow streets
round the old Palace of Westminster and beside the river gradually made
themselves.
I have already mentioned the houses of nobles, ecclesiastics, and
merchants, which stood among these narrow lanes. Many of these had to
be large enough to accommodate the immense following of the noble lord
to whom they belonged—perhaps five hundred men or more; yet, since
the standard of accommodation was by no means so high as our own,
the number of rooms wanted would not after all be so very great. If
the men-at-arms lay side by side on straw or rushes, each wrapped in
the coarse blanket called hop-harlot with a log for a pillow, thirty
or forty could sleep in a single room of moderate size, just as in a
man-o’-war the sailors are allowed fourteen inches in width for a
hammock.
Such, then, was the appearance of London in the fifteenth century;
always and everywhere picturesque, whether for the courts of its
stately palaces, or the topheavy gabled houses, or the carvings,
paintings, and gilding of the exterior, or the tumble-down courts
and lanes, or the many old churches, or the magnificence of the
religious houses, or the trade and shipping on the river, or the people
themselves. Of the old City houses there now remain but a portion of
one, namely, Crosby Hall, and the front of another, Sir Paul Pindar’s
house, which is in the South Kensington Museum.
If we consider the ancient names of streets and places in London,
we find that while a great many have been lost or changed out of
recognition, there still remain many which are the same to-day as
they were six hundred years ago and more, I have drawn up a list
of those streets which are mentioned in the books most useful for
this purpose—the _Memorials_, the _Calendar of Wills_, the _Liber
Custumarum_, and the _Report of the Commission_. (See Appendix IV.) The
names may be divided into classes. Thus, the natural features of the
City, while they were yet dimly marked and still visible, are indicated
by such names as Cornhill (unless that is the name of the old family
of Corenhell), Ludgate Hill, Tower Hill, Lambeth Hill, Bread Street
Hill, Addle Hill. These names remind us of the time when the low cliff
overhanging the river was gradually cut away till it became a short
and steep hill running along the north side of Thames Street. The name
River of Wells given to the Fleet commemorated the number of springs or
wells which bubbled up in and round the place called Clerkenwell, so
named after one of them. Walbrook is only remembered in the City by
the street which covers the stream. Next, the ancient holders of City
property are still remembered by many surviving names. Among the wards
there is Bassieshaw, which takes its name from the family of Basing.
Cornhill, as stated above, may refer to the hill or it may be the name
of the family of Corenhell; Farringdon Ward retains the name of the
Farringdons; Portsoken Ward marks the estate whose rents were formerly
reserved for the defensive purposes of the City; Baynard’s Castle
preserves the name of the first recorded owner of property in this
place; Orgar (St. Martin’s Orgar), Billing, Gresham, Guthrum, _i.e._
Gutter Lane, Philpot, and others, preserve the names of old families.
[Illustration: ARCH OF BLACKFRIARS PRIORY, REVEALED BY THE DEMOLITION
OF A BUILDING IN IRELAND YARD, MAY 1900]
Thirdly, many trades are localised by the names of streets or places.
Thus there are Milk Street, Ironmonger Lane, Wood Street, Honey
Lane, Bread Street, Old Fish Street, Garlick Hithe, Silver Street,
Paternoster Row, Budge Row.
The great houses, which formerly stood along the river between
Blackfriars and Westminster, have given their names to the streets
running north and south of the Strand.
Some of the streets preserve the memory of churches long since
destroyed and not rebuilt, or of Monastic Houses, such as Pancras
Lane, Size Lane (where was the church of St. Osyth), Great St. Thomas
Apostle, Trinity Lane, Botolph Lane (where stood the fourth church
of St. Botolph at the River Gate of the City), Austin Friars, Black
Friars, Crutched Friars, Minories, St. Helen’s, St. Martin le Grand,
St. Mary Axe, Mincing Lane, College Street, Rood Lane, Laurence
Pounteney.
The names of the Gates are preserved in the streets which run through
them: Aldgate, Aldersgate, Bishopsgate, Dowgate, Ludgate, Moorgate,
Newgate. Other names indicate ancient sites which would otherwise have
been forgotten: London Wall, Fore Street, Galley Wharf, Fleet, Thames,
Walbrook, Lombard Street, Old Bailey, Playhouse Yard, Jewry.
A great many of the names are the ancient Saxon names still unchanged,
while others remain in altered forms. Thus we have the names of
Watling, Portsoken, Cripplegate, Hithe, in Queenhithe and Garlickhithe,
Coleman Street, Chepe, Size Lane, Aldermanbury, Addle Street, Lambeth
Hill.
The old Bars or Boundaries of the City jurisdiction are now all gone
and, with the exception of Temple Bar, are clean forgotten. Queen
Hithe preserves the memory of Queen Eleanor its owner. The site of
Paul’s Cross is carefully laid down; Bucklersbury stands on the site of
the family estate of the Bukerels. Outside the City wall in the vast
wilderness of streets there are a few, as at Westminster, Southwark,
Whitechapel, Clerkenwell, and the part which has contained the town
houses of families of position for two hundred years, where there are
histories and persons commemorated in the names of streets, but, as a
general rule, the names have neither any significance worthy of note,
nor any historical character, and there is not any reason at all why
they should be painted up at the corners of the streets.