Sir, I should never have divined that you had any dislike to dull
reflections, had you not yourself assured me so; but now if you
will pledge me in another draught of sack, I’ll furnish you with a
new scene of London Bridge, from the pencil of an eminent foreigner,
as it appeared in May, 1663. This is selected from the very amusing
‘_Voyages de Mons. de Monconys_,’ and the best edition of his book is
that bearing the imprint of Paris, though it was in reality published
at Lyons, in 1695, duodecimo. In the second volume of this work, and
on page 14 of the part relating to England, he thus speaks of London
Bridge. ‘After having passed this place,’--that is Greenwich, which
the Author calls _Grenuche_,--‘we soon came to London, of which the
length is truly incredible; but more than two thirds of the River sides
are occupied by warehouses and very small buildings of wood, even
upon the Bridge, at the foot of which, on the City side, is a large
edifice erected wholly of wood, without any iron, which seems to be
of hewn stone it is so regularly built. At the other extremity of the
Bridge, above the towers of a castle, are many of the heads of the
murderers of King Charles.’ On page 21, M. Monconys is speaking of the
‘_bots_’--boats,--which formerly plied on the Thames to carry persons
to the City, or Westminster, by way of avoiding the rude English
coaches, and the ruder paved streets of London: ‘They never,’ says he,
‘go below the Bridge; although there is not any place to which they
cannot be had, but it is considered dangerous for these small boats
to go under the Bridge when the tide is running up, for the water has
then an extreme rapidity, even greater than when it is returning, and
the two currents are united.’ On page 121, in mentioning his visit to
the Tower, he states that neither in going nor returning did his boat
pass under the Bridge; for the tide being running up, there was a fall
of more than two feet. The passengers left the boat, crossed to the
other side of the Bridge, and then re-entered it: whilst the watermen,
he adds, had no difficulty in descending the fall, but a great deal in
mounting up it again.
“It has been reported, that during the awful time when London was being
devastated by the terrible Plague of 1665, the inhabitants of the
Bridge were free from its ravages; which is attributed to the ceaseless
rushing of the river beneath it. I have not yet discovered, however,
the least foundation for such a tradition in any of the numerous
publications which appeared concerning the pestilence; and, indeed, the
only place in which I find this edifice at all mentioned, is in that
terrible volume attributed to Daniel Defoe, and called ‘_A Journal of
the Plague Year, by a Citizen who continued all the while in London_;’
London, 1722, octavo, where, on page 255, when speaking of the fires
made in the streets for clearing the air after the pestilence, he says,
‘I do not remember whether any was at the City gates, but one at the
Bridge foot there was, just by St. Magnus’ Church.’
“I cannot imagine, Mr. Geoffrey Barbican, that in the fearful
conflagration of London, which occurred between the night of Saturday
and the morning of Sunday, the 2nd of September, 1666, the Bridge
suffered in any proportion to the rest of the City; for I have already
shewn you, from Strype’s Stow’s ‘_Survey_,’ that some of the original
houses of King John’s time, were subsequently standing at the Southwark
end. I attribute this preservation to the vacancy opposed to the flames
at the North end of the Bridge; but as the fire forms so memorable an
epoch in the history of London, I shall bring before you some evidence
concerning its actual effect upon this building. ‘’Twas at still
midnight,’ says one of the most particular accounts of it extant, ‘when
all was wrapt in a peaceful silence, and every eye shut up in quiet
slumber, that this dreadfull fire brake forth, whose hidden flames at
first obscurely crept within close limits; but quickly scorning to be
so confined, in a bright blaze brake openly upon us. And now the voice
of fire in every street--with horrid emphasis,--is echoed forth: these
dreadfull screems disturb our midnight quiet, and raise affrighted
people from their beds, who, scarce awake, all seems to be a dream.
Each one appears but as a moving statue, as once Lot’s wife, viewing
her flaming Sodom, transformed into a pillar: a powerfull wind aided
these raging flames, which, like a growing foe, increaseth still.’ Such
is the commencement of a broadside, entitled ‘_A Short Description
of the fatal and dreadfull Burning of London; divided into every day
and night’s progression. Composed by Samuel Wiseman_;’ but yet this
most particular sheet relates nothing concerning the Bridge. We have,
however, some little information in a narrative written by Thomas
Vincent,--a non-conformist Minister, who was ejected from the living
of St. Mary Magdalen, in Milk-street;--and called ‘_God’s terrible
Judgements in the City, by Plague and Fire_.’ Now, says the Author,
it ‘rusheth down the hill towards the Bridge; crosseth Thames-street,
invadeth St. Magnus’ Church at the Bridge-foot; and, though that Church
were so great, yet it was not a sufficient barricado against this
Conqueror; but, having scaled and taken this fort, it shooteth flames
with so much the greater advantage into all places round about; and
a great building of houses upon the Bridge is quickly thrown to the
ground: then the conqueror, _being stayed in his course at the Bridge_,
marcheth back to the City again, and runs along with great noise and
violence through Thames-street, Westward.’ The minute and pathetic
narrative of the accomplished John Evelyn, adds nothing to these
particulars; for he says only in his ‘_Diary_,’ edit. 1818, volume i.,
page 375, on September the 7th, upon the destruction of certain houses
erected about the Tower, if they had ‘taken fire and attacked the White
Tower, where the magazine of powder lay, they would undoubtedly not
only have beaten and destroyed all y^e Bridge, but sunke and torne the
vessells in y^e River.’ The report of Samuel Pepys, in his ‘_Diary_,’
already quoted, does not give us much additional information; though
he tells us in volume i., page 445, that on the morning of the 2nd,
he went on the Tower battlements, whence he saw ‘the houses at that
end of the Bridge all on fire; and an infinite great fire on this and
the other side the end of the Bridge, which, with other people, did
trouble me for poor little Michell and our Sarah on the Bridge.’ He
subsequently adds that the fire increased on both sides the North end
of London Bridge, but there is nothing said farther concerning its
attack upon the edifice itself.
“There are several prospects of this dreadful conflagration, though
few of them are worthy of any credit, most having been executed in
Holland; and it is probable, indeed, that the best was a small and
spirited etching by Wenceslaus Hollar, measuring 7 inches by 2-3/4,
and inserted on the right hand side of ‘_A New and Exact Map of Great
Britaine. Published by John Overton, at the White Horse, without
Newgate_. 1667.’ Single sheet. This view is taken from Hollar’s old
observatory, the tower of St. Mary Overies Church; and represents the
fire spreading furiously Westward, whilst the Bridge appears untouched.
This fine little print you will find to be the first illustration in
volume ii. of Mr. Crowle’s Pennant in the Print Room of the British
Museum; and it is entitled ‘_Prospect of the Citty of London, as it
appeared in the time of its flames_:’ it has frequently sold for 10_s._
6_d._, and sometimes for 15_s._, even without the plate it belongs to.
Hollar’s long view of the City immediately after the conflagration, I
have already mentioned; and in that we see with much more certainty the
actual damage sustained by our unhappy old edifice, in the RUINS OF
THE RIVERSIDE AND BRIDGE AFTER THE FIRE.
[Illustration]
“The alteration appears chiefly to consist in the destruction of that
large square building, which terminated the Northern end of the Bridge;
and, of course, the entire demolition of the wooden pales and passage,
which had been erected after the fire of 1633; but beyond this the
flames do not seem to have penetrated. The banks of the River, indeed,
presented a more entire picture of ruin. Of the grand Church of St.
Magnus nothing remained but some of the walls, and the buildings in
front of it were destroyed even to the water’s edge; whilst on the
Western side of the Bridge, the Water-works and Tower, numerous houses
lining the River, and the ancient edifice of Fishmongers’ Hall, were
reduced either to smouldering fragments, scarcely bearing even the
forms of what they once had been, or else had not one stone left upon
another. ‘_The Long Antwerp View of London_,’ which has been already
so minutely described, furnishes us with a good representation of
FISHMONGERS’ HALL BEFORE THE FIRE OF 1666;
[Illustration]
and it appears to have been a plain narrow edifice, castellated and
covered with lead on the top, having two principal stories, the lower
one of which had a kind of gallery or balcony, an ornament which was
very common to buildings in this part of London. The Companies of
the Salt-fish and Stock-fish mongers were anciently possessed of so
many as six Halls; of which two stood in New Fish-street, now called
Fish-street Hill; two more were in Old Fish-street, and two others
were erected in Thames-street; in each place one for each Company.
These, however, were all united in the year 1536, the 28th of Henry
the Eighth; after which they were to have but one Hall, namely, the
house given to them by Sir John Cornwall, afterwards created Baron
Fanhope, in 1427, the 6th year of Henry VI., which I take to have been
the building represented in the print; since Stow, in his ‘_Survey_,’
volume i., page 499, from whom we derive these few particulars, says
that it was in the Parish of St. Michael, Crooked Lane: and adds on the
preceding page, that ‘Fishmongers’ Hall, with other fair houses for
merchants, standeth about midway between the Bridge foot and Ebgate,
or Old Swan-lane.’ Still more brief, however, are the notices, which
he furnishes us concerning the Company’s other Halls, which once
stood about the same spot. ‘On the West side of this Ward,’--says
the old Citizen,--‘at the North end of London Bridge, is a part of
Thames-street, which is also of this Ward, to wit, so much as of old
time was called Stock-Fishmonger Row,’--a place, you will remember,
referred to in that manuscript Survey of Bridge lands which I some
time since recited to you--‘of the Stock-fishmongers dwelling there,
down West to a Water-gate, of old time called Ebgate, since Ebgate
Lane, and now the Old Swan.’ I will not enter into the history of the
Fishmongers’ Company, Mr. Barbican, because it does not belong to our
present subject, and you may read the chief particulars for yourself,
in Stow’s ‘_Survey_,’ volume i., page 498, and volume ii., page 268;
and shall therefore only add a very few particulars concerning the
present Hall. According to the splendid plan of Sir Christopher Wren,
for adorning the banks of the Thames, it presents to the river, a
handsome, though somewhat old-fashioned front of red brick, having
the windows ornamented with stone cases. From the wharf on which the
Shades’ Tavern is situate, a grand double flight of stone steps leads
to the chief apartments; and the door is decorated with Ionic columns
supporting an open pediment, containing a shield with the Company’s
Arms, all of stone. I shall say nothing, however, of the handsome North
front of this building, its spacious court-yard, and its beautiful
carved gateway in Thames-street; nor yet of the rich state chambers,
their fine paintings of fish, their massive and richly-chased silver
branches, their large brazen chandeliers, the interesting relique of
Sir William Walworth, nor of the interior of the spacious Hall. I
will tell you nothing of either of these, Mr. Geoffrey, since they
cannot be observed from London Bridge; but before I entirely quit the
Fishmongers, let me observe that Strype, in his Fifth Book of Stow’s
‘_Survey_,’ has two very singular notices concerning them, which I do
not remember to have seen mentioned in any historical account of yonder
passage across the Thames. They consist of certain ancient statutes
peculiar to this Company, taken from the record called ‘_Horn_,’ in the
Chamber of London; and they state that it should be prohibited that any
Fishmonger should ‘buy a fresh fish before Mass at the Chapel upon the
Bridge be celebrated:’ which Chapel, it is elsewhere stated, is one of
the bounds, beyond which no Fishmonger ought to go to buy fish.
“I have already observed that Hollar’s View of London after the Fire,
shews the fine old Church of St. Magnus, which we may consider the
North-East boundary of London Bridge, reduced to a pile of ruined
walls; having all those costly repairs and beautifyings, which Stow, in
his ‘_Survey_,’ volume i., page 494, records as having taken place from
1623 to 1629, destroyed in the flames. Before I speak, however, of the
re-edification of this fane, I shall notice the means employed for that
of the Bridge itself, as they are related by the continuators of Stow
in his ‘_Survey_,’ volume i., page 62. Most of the buildings erected
upon it, were, as they tell us, totally consumed; excepting the Chapel,
and a few edifices standing on the South end, of the time of King John:
though this, as I have shewn you, must be erroneous. We may believe,
however, from all the circumstances attendant upon the fire, that
the stone-work of the Bridge was so battered and weakened, ‘that it
cost the Bridge-House £1500. to make good the damage in the piers and
arches, before the leaseholders could attempt to rebuild the premises
destroyed by the fire.’ Though ‘the stone work,’ continues this
passage, ‘was no sooner secured, than a sufficient number of tenants
offered; who conditioned with the Bridge-House for building-leases
of 61 years, at the rate of 10_s._ per foot, running, yearly, and to
build after such a form and substantial manner as was prescribed.’
This was so rapidly carried into effect, that in five years the North
end was all completely finished, with houses four stories high, and
a street of 20 feet in breadth between them, measuring from side to
side. To make the South end equally perfect, however, and, at the
same time, to equalize the rent of the whole, required the invention
of some expedient; since the older buildings were already leased to
several tenants, with longer and shorter portions of their time yet to
elapse, whilst the leases of others were entirely expired. To arrange
all these with propriety, the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Commonalty,
who were appointed for the letting of the Bridge-House lands, with the
assistance of Mr. Philip Odde, then Clerk Comptroller of those estates,
took the following method. For the first class of tenants, they
measured the number of feet in the front of each house; and ascertained
the amount of rent, and the time of the lease yet unexpired: whilst a
second and third classes were formed of those whose leases were nearly
out, or entirely finished. To such as had the longest term to run, a
moderate time was added, with an abatement of rent answerable to the
cost of re-erecting their buildings, in uniformity with those at the
North end. Of the tenants whose leases were nearly expired, and who
were unable to build, they were redeemed for valuable considerations;
the dilapidated stone-work for the new buildings was then repaired by
the City, at an expense of nearly £1000; and in about four or five
years the whole edifice was completed.
“We are not, however, now informed of any repair of the Draw-Bridge,
although it certainly existed until the great alteration of 1758;
but, probably, even long before _this_ time, had ceased to be of any
great utility. You may see, in Stow’s historical notices of Queenhithe,
(vide his ‘_Survey_,’ volume i., pages 697-700,) that in the reign of
King Henry III. ships and boats laden with corn and fish for sale,
were compelled to pass _beyond_ the Bridge to that most ancient wharf
and market. In 1463, however, the third year of King Edward IV., the
same authority informs us that the market at Queenhithe was ‘hindered
by reason of the slackness of drawing up of London Bridge,’ which
seems to infer some difficulty in raising it even at that period;
fresh ordinances being then made to cause vessels with provisions to
proceed up the river. I cannot, however, tell you at what time the
Draw-Bridge was made wholly stationary; though it seems not to have
been till _after_ the publication of the last ancient edition of Stow’s
‘_Survey_,’ in 1633, folio, as, in Strype’s excellent new one, of
1720, volume i., book i., page 58, he adds some notices of the arches,
in which occurs the following passage. ‘Two of these arches are much
larger than the rest, _viz._ that over which is the Draw-bridge; and
the other called _the Simile Lock_. These were for the use of greater
vessels that went through Bridge Westward. The Draw-Bridge formerly
was, upon such occasions, taken up; but now-a-days never, but when it
wants repairing.’ The additions of Richard Bloome also, on page 56 in
the same volume, furnish us with several particulars of these arches,
which I shall introduce to you in this place, because they apply,
almost equally, both to the Bridge before the Fire, and to the ancient
appearance of the present one. ‘There were,’ says he, ‘three vacancies,
with stone walls, and iron grates,’--rather rails,--‘over them, on
either side, opposite to each other; through which grates, people, as
they pass over the Bridge, may take a view of the river both East and
West; and also may go aside, more to each side, out of the way of carts
and coaches, the passage being but narrow, and not only troublesome
but dangerous. These three vacancies are over three of the middle
arches, for all the piers are not of a like thickness, nor stand at
equal distance one from the other; for under those three vacancies are
much wider than the rest, and are called the navigable locks, because
vessels of considerable burthen may pass through them. One of these is
near unto the second gate, and is called the Rock Lock. The second is
under the second vacancy, and is called the _Draw-Bridge Lock_. And the
third is near the Chapel, and is called _St. Mary’s Lock_. There is a
fourth between St. Magnus’ Church and the first vacancy, and is called
the _King’s Lock_, for that the King in his passage through Bridge,
in his barge, goes through this lock.’ In Strype’s additions to these
particulars, which I have already referred to, he says, ‘The two Arches
next London are now stopped up for the use of the Water-mills, but
without any prejudice to the current of the Thames. The third arch on
the Southwark side is seldom, and very rarely, passed through, because
of a rock grown there a little to the East, which is visible at low
water. This rock hath been observed this many a year, and is called
the _Rock Lock_. The reparation of these arches, and the striking down
piles for securing them, is continual, and men are kept on purpose to
take care of it, and to do it. Whereof they have two Master-workmen,
_viz._ a Head-Carpenter,’--whose name in Strype’s time was Wise,--‘and
a Head-Mason, whose office it is to look after the Bridge under the
Bridge-Masters.’ The common report of the rock growing beneath the
water, under one of the Arches of London Bridge, is, however, one of
those popular traditions which are generally to be found connected
with almost every edifice, engendered partly by ignorance, and partly
by the desire mentioned by the Indian in Robinson Crusoe, ‘To make the
great wonder look!’ ‘We have been assured,’ says the Rev. John Motley,
in ‘_Seymour’s Survey of London_,’ volume i. page 48, ‘by a person of
great veracity as well as curiosity, that a friend of his in the year
1715, when the tide was so kept back that many people walked over the
river, went near enough to examine this, and found it to be stones
joined together with cement, and iron in some places; and therefore
supposed it was part of an arch that had formerly been broken down,
and never since removed,’ It has been generally believed, that these
ruins were the fragments of the two arches, and the Bridge-gate,
which, as I have related to you, fell down in the year 1437: and
which, having now lain nearly four centuries, and been increased by
the deposits which millions of tides have cast upon them, have become
almost as impenetrable as a solid rock, and the arch, therefore,
retains its ancient name. Such was London Bridge after it was rebuilt,
‘peopled’--as Evelyn says of the City, but a very few days after the
fire,--‘with new shops, noise, and business, not to say vanity.’--‘A
Bridge,’ exclaims Richard Bloome, in his continuations to Stow, volume
i. page 499, ‘not inferior to any in Europe for its length, breadth,
and buildings thereon, being sustained by nineteen great stone arches,
secured by piles of timber drove to the bottom of the river, having a
Draw-Bridge towards Southwark, as also strong gates; and, by its houses
built thereon on both sides, it seemeth rather a street than a Bridge,
being now garnished with good timber buildings, which are very well
inhabited by sufficient tradesmen, who have very considerable dealings,
as being so great a thoroughfare from Southwark into London.’
“Whilst I am mentioning this praise of London Bridge, I may express
my wonder that Michael Drayton, in his ‘_Poly-Olbion_,’ London, 1613,
folio, says so little concerning it, whilst John Selden, in his very
learned notes to that poem, wholly omits it. As I purpose next to say a
few words touching the rebuilding of St. Magnus’ Church, I will close
this part of our Bridge history by repeating Drayton’s verses from Song
xvii., page 259: where, speaking of the Thames, he says,--
‘Then goes he on along by that more beauteous strand,
Expressing both the wealth and brauery of the land;
----So many sumptuous bow’rs, within so little space,
The all-beholding sun scarce sees in all his race:--
And on by London leads, which like a crescent lies,
Whose windowes seem to mock the star-befreckled skies:
Besides her rising spyres, so thick themselues that show,
As doe the bristling reedes within his banks that growe:
There sees his crowded wharfes, and people-pester’d shores,
His bosome overspread with shoales of labouring oares;
With that most costly Bridge, that doth him most renowne,
By which he clearly puts all other Riuers downe.’