Leek. _Allium Porrum._
Dedicated to _St. David_.
[13] Butler’s Saints.
[14] “Gazette of Fashion,” March 9, 1822.
[15] “A wife, now the widdow of sir Thomas Overburye, being a most
exquisite and singular poem of the choice of a wife, whereunto are
added many _witty characters_,” &c. London, printed for Lawrence
Lisle, 4to. 1614.
[16] “An Antidote against Melancholy,” 4to 1661.
~March 2.~
_St. Ceada_, or _Chad_. _Martyrs under the Lombards_, 6th Cent. _St.
Simplicius_, Pope A. D. 483. _St. Marnan_, A. D. 620. _St. Charles the
Good_, Earl of Flanders, A. D. 1124. _St. Joavan_, or _Joevin_.
_St. Chad_, A. D. 673.
His name is in the calendar of the church of England. He was founder of
the see, and bishop of Lichfield. According to Bede, joyful melody as of
persons sweetly singing descended from heaven into his oratory for half
an hour, and then mounted again to heaven. This was to presage his
death, and accordingly he died, attended by his brother’s soul and
musical angels.
_St. Chad’s Well_
Is near Battle-bridge. The miraculous water is aperient, and was some
years ago quaffed by the bilious and other invalids, who flocked thither
in crowds, to drink at the cost of sixpence, what people of these
latter days by “the ingenious chemists’ art,” can make as effectual as
St. Chad’s virtues “at the small price of one halfpenny.”
If any one desire to visit this spot of ancient renown, let him descend
from Holborn-bars to the very bottom of Grays-inn-lane. On the left-hand
side formerly stood a considerable hill, whereon were wont to climb and
browze certain mountain goats of the metropolis, in common language
called swine; the hill was the largest heap of cinder-dust in the
neighbourhood of London. It was formed by the annual accumulation of
some thousands of cart loads, since exported to Russia for making bricks
to rebuild Moscow, after the conflagration of that capital on the
entrance of Napoleon. Opposite to this unsightly site, and on the
right-hand side of the road is an angle-wise faded inscription:
[Illustration: S^{T}. CHAD’S WELL.]
It stands, or rather dejects, over an elderly pair of wooden gates, one
whereof opens on a scene which the unaccustomed eye may take for the
pleasure-ground of Giant Despair. Trees stand as if made not to
vegetate, clipped hedges seem willing to decline, and nameless weeds
straggle weakly upon unlimited borders. If you look upwards you perceive
painted on an octagon board “Health Restored and Preserved.” Further on
towards the left, stands a low, old-fashioned, comfortable-looking,
large windowed dwelling; and ten to one, but there also stands, at the
open door, an ancient ailing female, in a black bonnet, a clean coloured
cotton gown, and a check apron; her silver hair only in part tucked
beneath the narrow border of a frilled cap, with a sedate and patient,
yet, somewhat inquiring look. This is “the Lady of the _Well_.” She
gratuitously informs you, that “the gardens” of “St. Chad’s well” are
“for circulation” by paying for the water, of which you may drink as
much, or as little, or nothing, as you please, at one guinea per year,
9_s._ 6_d._ quarterly, 4_s._ 6_d._ monthly, or 1_s._ 6_d._ weekly. You
qualify for a single visit by paying sixpence, and a large glass tumbler
full of warm water is handed to you. As a stranger, you are told, that
“St. Chad’s well was famous at one time.” Should you be inquisitive, the
dame will instruct you, with an earnest eye, that “people are not what
they were,” “things are not as they used to be,” and she “can’t tell
what’ll happen next.” Oracles have not ceased. While drinking St. Chad’s
water you observe an immense copper into which it is poured, wherein it
is heated to due efficacy, and from whence it is drawn by a cock, into
the glasses. You also remark, hanging on the wall, a “tribute of
gratitude” versified, and inscribed on vellum, beneath a pane of glass
stained by the hand of time and let into a black frame: this is an
effusion for value received from St. Chad’s invaluable water. But, above
all, there is a full-sized portrait in oil, of a stout, comely
personage, with a ruddy countenance, in a coat or cloak, supposed
scarlet, a laced cravat falling down the breast, and a small red night
cap carelessly placed on the head, conveying the idea that it was
painted for the likeness of some opulent butcher who flourished in the
reign of queen Anne. Ask the dame about it, and she refers you to
“Rhone.” This is a tall old man, who would be taller if he were not bent
by years. “I am ninety-four,” he will tell you, “this present year of
our Lord, one thousand eight hundred and twenty-five.” All that he has
to communicate concerning the portrait is, “I have heard say it is the
portrait of St. Chad.” Should you venture to differ, he adds, “this is
the opinion of most people who come here.” You may gather that it is his
own undoubted belief. On pacing the garden alleys, and peeping at the
places of retirement, you imagine the whole may have been improved and
beautified for the last time by some countryman of William III., who
came over and died in the same year with that king, and whose works
here, in wood and box, have been following him piecemeal ever since.
St. Chad’s well is scarcely known in the neighbourhood, save by its
sign-board of invitation and forbidding externals. An old American
loyalist, who has lived in Pentonville ever since “the rebellion” forced
him to the mother country, enters to “totter not unseen” between the
stunted hedgerows; it was the first “place of pleasure” he came to
after his arrival, and he goes no where besides,--“every thing else is
so altered.” For the same reason, a tall, spare, thin-faced man, with
dull grey eyes and underhung chin, from the neighbourhood of
Bethnal-green, walks hither for his “Sunday morning’s exercise,” to
untruss a theological point with a law clerk, who also attends the place
because his father, “when he was ’prentice to Mr. ---- the great law
stationer in Chancery-lane in 1776, and sat writing for sixteen hours a
day, received great benefit from the waters, which he came to drink
fasting, once a week.” Such persons from local attachment, and a few
male and female atrabilarians, who without a powerful motive would never
breathe the pure morning air, resort to this spot for their health. St.
Chad’s well is haunted, not frequented. A few years and it will be with
its water as with the water of St. Pancras’ well, which is enclosed in
the garden of a private house, near old St. Pancras’ churchyard.
_Holy Wells._
The _holy_ wells of London have all declined in reputation, even to St.
Bride’s well, whose fame gave the name of Bridewell to an adjoining
hospital and prison, and at last, attached the name to every house of
correction throughout the kingdom. The last public use of the water of
St. Bride’s well drained it so much, that the inhabitants of St. Bride’s
parish could not get their usual supply. This exhaustion was effected by
a sudden demand. Several men were engaged in filling thousands of
bottles, a day or two before the 19th of July 1821, on which day his
majesty, king George IV. was crowned at Westminster; and Mr. Walker of
the hotel, No. 10, Bridge-street, Blackfriars, purveyor of water to the
coronation, obtained it, by the only means through which the sainted
fluid is now attainable, from the cast-iron pump over St. Bride’s well,
in Bride-lane.
* * * * *