PATERNOSTER ROW.
Its Successions of Traders--The House of Longman--Goldsmith at
Fault--Tarleton, Actor, Host, and Wit--Ordinaries around St. Paul's:
their Rules and Customs--The "Castle"--"Dolly's"--The "Chapter" and
its Frequenters--Chatterton and Goldsmith--Dr. Buchan and his
Prescriptions--Dr. Gower--Dr. Fordyce--The "Wittinagemot" at the
"Chapter"--The "Printing Conger"--Mrs. Turner, the Poisoner--The
Church of St. Michael "ad Bladum"--The Boy in Panier Alley.
Paternoster Row, that crowded defile north of the Cathedral, lying
between the old Grey Friars and the Blackfriars, was once entirely
ecclesiastical in its character, and, according to Stow, was so called
from the stationers and text-writers who dwelt there and sold religious
and educational books, alphabets, paternosters, aves, creeds, and
graces. It then became famous for its spurriers, and afterwards for
eminent mercers, silkmen, and lacemen; so that the coaches of the
"quality" often blocked up the whole street. After the fire these trades
mostly removed to Bedford Street, King Street, and Henrietta Street,
Covent Garden. In 1720 (says Strype) there were stationers and
booksellers who came here in Queen Anne's reign from Little Britain, and
a good many tire-women, who sold commodes, top-knots, and other
dressings for the female head. By degrees, however, learning ousted
vanity, chattering died into studious silence, and the despots of
literature ruled supreme. Many a groan has gone up from authors in this
gloomy thoroughfare.
One only, and that the most ancient, of the Paternoster Row book-firms,
will our space permit us to chronicle. The house of Longman is part and
parcel of the Row. The first Longman, born in Bristol in 1699, was the
son of a soap and sugar merchant. Apprenticed in London, he purchased
(_circa_ 1724) the business of Mr. Taylor, the publisher of "Robinson
Crusoe," for L2,282 9s. 6d., and his first venture was the works of
Boyle. This patriarch died in 1755, and was succeeded by a nephew,
Thomas Longman, who ventured much trade in America and "the
plantations." He was succeeded by his son, Mr. T.L. Longman, a plain
man of the old citizen style, who took as partner Mr. Owen Rees, a
Bristol bookseller, a man of industry and acumen.
Before the close of the eighteenth century the house of Longman and Rees
had become one of the largest in the City, both as publishers and
book-merchants. When there was talk of an additional paper-duty, the
ministers consulted, according to West, the new firm, and on their
protest desisted; a reverse course, according to the same authority,
would have checked operations on the part of that one firm alone of
L100,000. Before the opening of the nineteenth century they had become
possessed of some new and valuable copyrights--notably, the "Grammar" of
Lindley Murray, of New York. This was in 1799.
The "lake poets" proved a valuable acquisition. Wordsworth came first to
them, then Coleridge, and lastly Southey. In 1802 the Longmans commenced
the issue of Rees' "Cyclopaedia," reconstructed from the old Chambers',
and about the same time the _Annual Review_, edited by Aikin, which for
the nine years of its existence Southey and Taylor of Norwich mainly
supported. The catalogue of the firm for 1803 is divided into no less
than twenty-two classes. Among their books we note Paley's "Natural
Theology," Sharon Turner's "Anglo-Saxon History," Adolphus's "History of
King George III.," Pinkerton's "Geography," Fosbrooke's "British
Monachism," Cowper's "Homer," Gifford's "Juvenal," Sotheby's "Oberon,"
and novels and romances not a few. At this time Mr. Longman used to have
Saturday evening receptions in Paternoster Row.
Sir Walter Scott's "Guy Mannering," "The Monastery," and "The Abbot,"
were published by Longmans. "Lalla Rookh," by Tom Moore, was published
by them, and they gave L3,000 for it.
In 1811 Mr. Brown, who had entered the house as an apprentice in 1792,
and was the son of an old servant, became partner. Then came in Mr.
Orme, a faithful clerk of the house--for the house required several
heads, the old book trade alone being an important department. In 1826,
when Constable of Edinburgh came down in the commercial crash, and
brought poor Sir Walter Scott to the ground with him, the Longman firm
succeeded to the _Edinburgh Review_, which is still their property. Mr.
Green became a partner in 1824, and in 1856 Mr. Roberts was admitted. In
1829 the firm ventured on Lardner's "Cyclopaedia," contributed to by
Scott, Tom Moore, Mackintosh, &c, and which ended in 1846 with the
133rd volume. In 1860 Mr. Thomas Longman became a partner.
Thomas Norton Longman, says a writer in the _Critic_, resided for many
years at Mount Grove, Hampstead, where he entertained many wits and
scholars. He died there in 1842, leaving L200,000 personalty. In 1839
Mr. William Longman entered the firm as a partner. "Longman, Green,
Longman, and Roberts" became the style of the great publishing house,
the founder of which commenced business one hundred and forty-four years
ago, at the house which became afterwards No. 39, Paternoster Row.
In 1773, a year before Goldsmith's death, Dr. Kenrick, a vulgar satirist
of the day, wrote an anonymous letter in an evening paper called _The
London Packet_, sneering at the poet's vanity, and calling "The
Traveller" a flimsy poem, denying the "Deserted Village" genius, fancy,
or fire, and calling "She Stoops to Conquer" the merest pantomime.
Goldsmith's Irish blood fired at an allusion to Miss Horneck and his
supposed rejection by her. Supposing Evans, of Paternoster Row, to be
the editor of the _Packet_, Goldsmith resolved to chastise him. Evans, a
brutal fellow, who turned his son out in the streets and separated from
his wife because she took her son's part, denied all knowledge of the
matter. As he turned his back to look for the libel, Goldsmith struck
him sharply across the shoulders. Evans, a sturdy, hot Welshman,
returned the blow with interest, and in the scuffle a lamp overhead was
broken and covered the combatants with fish-oil. Dr. Kenrick then
stepped from an adjoining room, interposed between the combatants, and
sent poor Goldsmith home, bruised and disfigured, in a coach. Evans
subsequently indicted Goldsmith for the assault, but the affair was
compromised by Goldsmith paying L50 towards a Welsh charity. The friend
who accompanied Goldsmith to this chivalrous but unsuccessful attack is
said to have been Captain Horneck, but it seems more probable that it
was Captain Higgins, an Irish friend mentioned in "The Haunch of
Venison."
Near the site of the present Dolly's Chop House stood the "Castle," an
ordinary kept by Shakespeare's friend and fellow actor, Richard
Tarleton, the low comedian of Queen Elizabeth's reign. It was this
humorous, ugly actor who no doubt suggested to the great manager many of
his jesters, fools, and simpletons, and we know that the tag songs--such
as that at the end of _All's Well that Ends Well_, "When that I was a
little tiny boy"--were expressly written for Tarleton, and were danced
by that comedian to the tune of a pipe and a tabor which he himself
played. The part which Tarleton had to play as host and wit is well
shown in his "Book of Jests:"--
"Tarleton keeping an ordinary in Paternoster Row, and sitting with
gentlemen to make them merry, would approve mustard standing before them
to have wit. 'How so?' saies one. 'It is like a witty scold meeting
another scold, knowing that scold will scold, begins to scold first.
So,' says he, 'the mustard being lickt up, and knowing that you will
bite it, begins to bite you first.' 'I'll try that,' saies a gull by,
and the mustard so tickled him that his eyes watered. 'How now?' saies
Tarleton; 'does my jest savour?' 'I,' saies the gull, 'and bite too.'
'If you had had better wit,' saies Tarleton, 'you would have bit first;
so, then, conclude with me, that dumbe unfeeling mustard hath more wit
than a talking, unfeeling foole, as you are.' Some were pleased, and
some were not; but all Tarleton's care was taken, for his resolution was
ever, before he talkt any jest, to measure his opponent."
[Illustration: RICHARD TARLETON, THE ACTOR (_copied from an old wood
engraving_) [_see page 275_].]
A modern antiquary has with great care culled from the "Gull's Horn
Book" and other sources a sketch of the sort of company that might be
met with at such an ordinary. It was the custom for men of fashion in
the reign of Elizabeth and James to pace in St. Paul's till dinner-time,
and after the ordinary again till the hour when the theatres opened. The
author of "Shakespeare's England" says:--
"There were ordinaries of all ranks, the _table-d'hote_ being the almost
universal mode of dining among those who were visitors to London during
the season, or term-time, as it was then called. There was the
twelvepenny ordinary, where you might meet justices of the peace and
young knights; and the threepenny ordinary, which was frequented by poor
lieutenants and thrifty attorneys. At the one the rules of high society
were maintained, and the large silver salt-cellar indicated the rank of
the guests. At the other the diners were silent and unsociable, or the
conversation, if any, was so full of 'amercements and feoffments' that a
mere countryman would have thought the people were conjuring.
"If a gallant entered the ordinary at about half-past eleven, or even a
little earlier, he would find the room full of fashion-mongers, waiting
for the meat to be served. There are men of all classes: titled men, who
live cheap that they may spend more at Court; stingy men, who want to
save the charges of house-keeping; courtiers, who come there for society
and news; adventurers, who have no home; Templars, who dine there daily;
and men about town, who dine at whatever place is nearest to their
hunger. Lords, citizens, concealed Papists, spies, prodigal 'prentices,
precisians, aldermen, foreigners, officers, and country gentlemen, all
are here. Some have come on foot, some on horseback, and some in those
new caroches the poets laugh at."
"The well-bred courtier, on entering the room, saluted those of his
acquaintances who were in winter gathered round the fire, in summer
round the window, first throwing his cloak to his page and hanging up
his hat and sword. The parvenu would single out a friend, and walk up
and down uneasily with the scorn and carelessness of a gentleman usher,
laughing rudely and nervously, or obtruding himself into groups of
gentlemen gathered round a wit or poet. Quarrelsome men pace about
fretfully, fingering their sword-hilts and maintaining as sour a face as
that Puritan moping in a corner, pent up by a group of young swaggerers,
who are disputing over a card at gleek. Vain men, not caring whether it
was Paul's, the Tennis Court, or the playhouse, _published_ their
clothes, and talked as loud as they could, in order to appear at ease,
and laughed over the Water Poet's last epigram or the last pamphlet of
Marprelate. The soldiers bragged of nothing but of their employment in
Ireland and the Low Countries--how they helped Drake to burn St.
Domingo, or grave Maurice to hold out Breda. Tom Coryatt, or such
weak-pated travellers, would babble of the Rialto and Prester John, and
exhibit specimens of unicorns' horns or palm-leaves from the river
Nilus. The courtier talked of the fair lady who gave him the glove which
he wore in his hat as a favour; the poet of the last satire of Marston
or Ben Jonson, or volunteered to read a trifle thrown off of late by
'Faith, a learned gentleman, a very worthy friend,' though if we were to
enquire, this varlet poet might turn out, after all, to be the mere
decoy duck of the hostess, paid to draw gulls and fools thither. The
mere dullard sat silent, playing with his glove or discussing at what
apothecary's the best tobacco was to be bought.
[Illustration: DOLLY'S COFFEE-HOUSE (_see page 278_).]
"The dishes seemed to have been served up at these hot luncheons or
early dinners in much the same order as at the present day--meat,
poultry, game, and pastry. 'To be at your woodcocks' implied that you
had nearly finished dinner. The more unabashable, rapid adventurer,
though but a beggarly captain, would often attack the capon while his
neighbour, the knight, was still encumbered with his stewed beef; and
when the justice of the peace opposite, who has just pledged him in
sack, is knuckle-deep in the goose, he falls stoutly on the long-billed
game; while at supper, if one of the college of critics, our gallant
praised the last play or put his approving stamp upon the new poem.
"Primero and a 'pair' of cards followed the wine. Here the practised
player learnt to lose with endurance, and neither to tear the cards nor
crush the dice with his heel. Perhaps the jest may be true, and that men
sometimes played till they sold even their beards to cram tennis-balls
or stuff cushions. The patron often paid for the wine or disbursed for
the whole dinner. Then the drawer came round with his wooden knife, and
scraped off the crusts and crumbs, or cleared off the parings of fruit
and cheese into his basket. The torn cards were thrown into the fire,
the guests rose, rapiers were re-hung, and belts buckled on. The post
news was heard, and the reckonings paid. The French lackey and Irish
footboy led out the hobby horses, and some rode off to the play, others
to the river-stairs to take a pair of oars to the Surrey side."
The "Castle," where Tarleton has so often talked of Shakespeare and his
wit, perished in the Great Fire; but was afterwards rebuilt, and here
"The Castle Society of Music" gave their performances, no doubt aided by
many of the St. Paul's Choir. Part of the old premises were subsequently
(says Mr. Timbs) the Oxford Bible Warehouse, destroyed by fire in 1822,
and since rebuilt. "Dolly's Tavern," which stood near the "Castle,"
derived its name from Dolly, an old cook of the establishment, whose
portrait Gainsborough painted. Bonnell Thornton mentions the beefsteaks
and gill ale at "Dolly's." The coffee-room, with its projecting
fire-places, is as old as Queen Anne. The head of that queen is painted
on a window at "Dolly's," and the entrance in Queen's Head Passage is
christened from this painting.
The old taverns of London are to be found in the strangest nooks and
corners, hiding away behind shops, or secreting themselves up alleys.
Unlike the Paris _cafe_, which delights in the free sunshine of the
boulevard, and displays its harmless revellers to the passers-by, the
London tavern aims at cosiness, quiet, and privacy. It partitions and
curtains-off its guests as if they were conspirators and the wine they
drank was forbidden by the law. Of such taverns the "Chapter" is a good
example.
The "Chapter Coffee House," at the corner of Chapter House Court, was in
the last century famous for its punch, its pamphlets, and its
newspapers. As lawyers and authors frequented the Fleet Street taverns,
so booksellers haunted the "Chapter." Bonnell Thornton, in the
_Connoisseur_, Jan., 1754, says:--"The conversation here naturally turns
upon the newest publications, but their criticisms are somewhat
singular. When they say a _good_ book they do not mean to praise the
style or sentiment, but the quick and extensive sale of it. That book is
best which sells most."
In 1770 Chatterton, in one of those apparently hopeful letters he wrote
home while in reality his proud heart was breaking, says:--"I am quite
familiar at the 'Chapter Coffee House,' and know all the geniuses
there." He desires a friend to send him whatever he has published, to be
left at the "Chapter." So, again, writing from the King's Bench, he says
a gentleman whom he met at the "Chapter" had promised to introduce him
as a travelling tutor to the young Duke of Northumberland; "but, alas! I
spoke no tongue but my own."
Perhaps that very day Chatterton came, half starved, and listened with
eager ears to great authors talking. Oliver Goldsmith dined there, with
Lloyd, that reckless friend of still more reckless Churchill, and some
Grub Street cronies, and had to pay for the lot, Lloyd having quite
forgotten the important fact that he was moneyless. Goldsmith's
favourite seat at the "Chapter" became a seat of honour, and was pointed
out to visitors. Leather tokens of the coffee-house are still in
existence.
Mrs. Gaskell has sketched the "Chapter" in 1848, with its low
heavy-beamed ceilings, wainscoted rooms, and its broad, dark, shallow
staircase. She describes it as formerly frequented by university men,
country clergymen, and country booksellers, who, friendless in London,
liked to hear the literary chat. Few persons slept there, and in a long,
low, dingy room upstairs the periodical meetings of the trade were held.
"The high, narrow windows looked into the gloomy Row." Nothing of motion
or of change could be seen in the grim, dark houses opposite, so near
and close, although the whole width of the Row was between. The mighty
roar of London ran round like the sound of an unseen ocean, yet every
footfall on the pavement below might be heard distinctly in that
unfrequented street.
The frequenters of the "Chapter Coffee House" (1797-1805) have been
carefully described by Sir Richard Phillips. Alexander Stevens, editor
of the "Annual Biography and Obituary," was one of the choice spirits
who met nightly in the "Wittinagemot," as it was called, or the
north-east corner box in the coffee-room. The neighbours, who dropped in
directly the morning papers arrived, and before they were dried by the
waiter, were called the Wet Paper Club, and another set intercepted the
wet evening papers. Dr. Buchan, author of that murderous book, "Domestic
Medicine," which teaches a man how to kill himself and family cheaply,
generally acted as moderator. He was a handsome, white-haired man, a
Tory, a good-humoured companion, and a _bon vivant_. If any one began to
complain, or appear hypochondriacal, he used to say--
"Now let me prescribe for you, without a fee. Here, John, bring a glass
of punch for Mr. ----, unless he likes brandy and water better. Now,
take that, sir, and I'll warrant you'll soon be well. You're a peg too
low; you want stimulus; and if one glass won't do, call for a second."
Dr. Gower, the urbane and able physician of the Middlesex Hospital, was
another frequent visitor, as also that great eater and worker, Dr.
Fordyce, whose balance no potations could disturb. Fordyce had
fashionable practice, and brought rare news and much sound information
on general subjects. He came to the "Chapter" from his wine, stayed
about an hour, and sipped a glass of brandy and water. He then took
another glass at the "London Coffee House," and a third at the "Oxford,"
then wound home to his house in Essex Street, Strand. The three doctors
seldom agreed on medical subjects, and laughed loudly at each other's
theories. They all, however, agreed in regarding the "Chapter" punch as
an infallible and safe remedy for all ills.
The standing men in the box were Hammond and Murray. Hammond, a Coventry
manufacturer, had scarcely missed an evening at the "Chapter" for
forty-five years. His strictures on the events of the day were thought
severe but able, and as a friend of liberty he had argued all through
the times of Wilkes and the French and American wars. His Socratic
arguments were very amusing. Mr. Murray, the great referee of the
Wittinagemot, was a Scotch minister, who generally sat at the "Chapter"
reading papers from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. He was known to have read straight
through every morning and evening paper published in London for thirty
years. His memory was so good that he was always appealed to for dates
and matters of fact, but his mind was not remarkable for general
lucidity. Other friends of Stevens's were Dr. Birdmore, the Master of
the Charterhouse, who abounded in anecdote; Walker, the rhetorician and
dictionary-maker, a most intelligent man, with a fine enunciation, and
Dr. Towers, a political writer, who over his half-pint of Lisbon grew
sarcastic and lively. Also a grumbling man named Dobson, who between
asthmatic paroxysms vented his spleen on all sides. Dobson was an author
and paradox-monger, but so devoid of principle that he was deserted by
all his friends, and would have died from want, if Dr. Garthshore had
not placed him as a patient in an empty fever hospital. Robinson, "the
king of booksellers," and his sensible brother John were also
frequenters of the "Chapter," as well as Joseph Johnson, the friend of
Priestley, Paine, Cowper, and Fuseli, from St. Paul's Churchyard.
Phillips, the speculative bookseller, then commencing his _Monthly
Magazine_, came to the "Chapter" to look out for recruits, and with his
pockets well lined with guineas to enlist them. He used to describe all
the odd characters at this coffee-house, from the glutton in politics,
who waited at daylight for the morning papers, to the moping and
disconsolate bachelor, who sat till the fire was raked out by the sleepy
waiter at half-past twelve at night. These strange figures succeeded
each other regularly, like the figures in a magic lantern.
Alexander Chalmers, editor of many works, enlivened the Wittinagemot by
many sallies of wit and humour. He took great pains not to be mistaken
for a namesake of his, who, he used to say, carried "the leaden mace."
Other _habitues_ were the two Parrys, of the _Courier_ and _Jacobite_
papers, and Captain Skinner, a man of elegant manners, who represented
England in the absurd procession of all nations, devised by that German
revolutionary fanatic, Anacharsis Clootz, in Paris in 1793. Baker, an
ex-Spitalfields manufacturer, a great talker and eater, joined the
coterie regularly, till he shot himself at his lodgings in Kirby Street.
It was discovered that his only meal in the day had been the nightly
supper at the "Chapter," at the fixed price of a shilling, with a
supplementary pint of porter. When the shilling could no longer be found
for the supper, he killed himself.
Among other members of these pleasant coteries were Lowndes, the
electrician; Dr. Busby, the musician; Cooke, the well-bred writer of
conversation; and Macfarlane, the author of "The History of George
III.," who was eventually killed by a blow from the pole of a coach
during an election procession of Sir Francis Burdett at Brentford.
Another celebrity was a young man named Wilson, called Langton, from his
stories of the _haut ton_. He ran up a score of L40, and then
disappeared, to the vexation of Mrs. Brown, the landlady, who would
willingly have welcomed him, even though he never paid, as a means of
amusing and detaining customers. Waithman, the Common Councilman, was
always clear-headed and agreeable. There was also Mr. Paterson, a
long-headed, speculative North Briton, who had taught Pitt mathematics.
But such coteries are like empires; they have their rise and their fall.
Dr. Buchan died; some pert young sparks offended the Nestor, Hammond,
who gave up the place, after forty-five years' attendance, and before
1820 the "Chapter" grew silent and dull.
The fourth edition of Dr. ----ell's "Antient and Modern Geography," says
Nicholls, was published by an association of respectable booksellers,
who about the year 1719 entered into an especial partnership, for the
purpose of printing some expensive works, and styled themselves "the
Printing Conger." The term "Conger" was supposed to have been at first
applied to them invidiously, alluding to the conger eel, which is said
to swallow the smaller fry; or it may possibly have been taken from
_congeries_. The "Conger" met at the "Chapter."
The "Chapter" closed as a coffee-house in 1854, and was altered into a
tavern.
One tragic memory, and one alone, as far as we know, attaches to
Paternoster Row. It was here, in the reign of James I., that Mrs. Anne
Turner lived, at whose house the poisoning of Sir Thomas Overbury was
planned. It was here that Viscount Rochester met the infamous Countess
of Essex; and it was Overbury's violent opposition to this shameful
intrigue that led to his death from arsenic and diamond-dust,
administered in the Tower by Weston, a servant of Mrs. Turner's, who
received L180 for his trouble. Rochester and the Countess were
disgraced, but their lives were spared. The Earl of Northampton, an
accomplice of the countess, died before Overbury succumbed to his three
months of torture.
"Mrs. Turner," says Sir Simonds d'Ewes, had "first brought up that vain
and foolish use of yellow starch, coming herself to her trial in a
yellow band and cuffs; and therefore, when she was afterwards executed
at Tyburn, the hangman had his band and cuffs of the same colour, which
made many after that day, of either sex, to forbear the use of that
coloured starch, till at last it grew generally to be detested and
disused."
In a curious old print of West Chepe, date 1585, in the vestry-room of
St. Vedast's, Foster Lane, we see St. Michael's, on the north side of
Paternoster Row. It is a plain dull building, with a low square tower
and pointed-headed windows. It was chiefly remarkable as the
burial-place of that indefatigable antiquary, John Leland. This
laborious man, educated at St. Paul's School, was one of the earliest
Greek scholars in England, and one of the deepest students of Welsh and
Saxon. Henry VIII. made him one of his chaplains, bestowed on him
several benefices, and gave him a roving commission to visit the ruins
of England and Wales and inspect the records of collegiate and cathedral
libraries. He spent six years in this search, and collected a vast mass
of material, then retired to his house in the parish of St.
Michael-le-Quern to note and arrange his treasures. His mind, however,
broke down under the load: he became insane, and died in that dreadful
darkness of the soul, 1552. His great work, "The Itinerary of Great
Britain," was not published till after his death. His large collections
relating to London antiquities were, unfortunately for us, lost. The old
church of "St. Michael ad Bladum," says Strype, "or 'at the Corn'
(corruptly called the 'Quern') was so called because in place thereof
was sometime a corn-market, stretching up west to the shambles. It
seemeth that this church was first builded about the reign of Edward
III. Thomas Newton, first parson there, was buried in the quire, in the
year 1361, which was the 35th of Edward III. At the east end of this
church stood an old cross called the Old Cross in West-cheap, which was
taken down in the 13th Richard II.; since the which time the said parish
church was also taken down, but new builded and enlarged in the year
1430; the 8th Henry VI., William Eastfield, mayor, and the commonalty,
granting of the common soil of the City three foot and a half in breadth
on the north part, and four foot in breadth towards the east, for the
inlarging thereof. This church was repaired, and with all things either
for use or beauty, richly supplied and furnished, at the sole cost and
charge of the parishioners, in 1617. This church was burnt down in the
Great Fire, and remains unbuilt, and laid into the street, but the
conduit which was formerly at the east end of the church still remains.
The parish is united to St. Vedast, Foster Lane. At the east end of this
church, in place of the old cross, is now a water-conduit placed.
William Eastfield, maior, the 9th Henry VI., at the request of divers
common councels, granted it so to be. Whereupon, in the 19th of the said
Henry, 1,000 marks was granted by a common councel towards the works of
this conduit, and the reparation of others. This is called the Little
Conduit in West Cheap, by Paul's Gate. At the west end of this parish
church is a small passage for people on foot, thorow the same church;
and west from the same church, some distance, is another passage out of
Paternoster Row, and is called (of such a sign) Panyer Alley, which
cometh out into the north, over against St. Martin's Lane.
'When you have sought the city round,
Yet still this is the highest ground.
August 27, 1688.'
This is writ upon a stone raised, about the middle of this Panier Alley,
having the figure of a panier, with a boy sitting upon it, with a bunch
of grapes, as it seems to be, held between his naked foot and hand, in
token, perhaps, of plenty."
At the end of a somewhat long Latin epitaph to Marcus Erington in this
church occurred the following lines:--
"Vita bonos, sed poena malos, aeterna capessit,
Vitae bonis, sed poena malis, per secula crescit.
His mors, his vita, perpetuatur ita."
John Bankes, mercer and squire, who was interred here, had a long
epitaph, adorned with the following verses:--
"Imbalmed in pious arts, wrapt in a shroud
Of white, innocuous charity, who vowed,
Having enough, the world should understand
No need of money might escape his hand;
Bankes here is laid asleepe--this place did breed him--
A precedent to all that shall succeed him.
Note both his life and immitable end;
Not he th' unrighteous mammon made his friend;
Expressing by his talents' rich increase
Service that gain'd him praise and lasting peace.
Much was to him committed, much he gave,
Ent'ring his treasure there whence all shall have
Returne with use: what to the poore is given
Claims a just promise of reward in heaven.
Even such a banke _Bankes_ left behind at last,
Riches stor'd up, which age nor time can waste."
On part of the site of the church of this parish, after the fire of
London in 1666, was erected a conduit for supplying the neighbourhood
with water; but the same being found unnecessary, it was, with others,
pulled down anno 1727.