It is convenient here to devote a paragraph to the general subject of the ward--that of Farringdon Without--in which we now find ourselves.

The whole great Ward of Farindon,

both intra and extra (i.e., within and without the walls), took name of W. Farindon, goldsmith, alderman of that ward, and

one

of the sheriffs of London in the year

1281

, the

9th

of Edward I. He purchased the aldermanry of this ward.

while yet,

a criminal of State and a prisoner.

that he was the pleasantest companion, the politest gentleman, and the best scholar he ever knew.

If,

he were stripped and thrown over

Westminster Bridge

one

day, you would meet him the next in

Pall Mall

, dressed in the height of fashion, and with money in his pocket.

Farringdon Without has been famous for its banking connections. The founders of the rich banking-houses in Fleet Street--the Childs, the Hoares, and the Goslings-filled at various periods the office of alderman of this ward.

The companion ward of Farringdon Within, out of which we passed when we left-speaking of , has for its general boundaries, on the north, (in the hall of which the wardmotes are held), and part of ; on the south, the Thames; on the east, ; and on the west, .

, which runs from northward to the line of , is constructed over the celebrated Fleet; Ditch. In this street stood Fleet Market. To understand the history of this market the reader must recall what we said when speaking of the , that it was erected on the site of the old Stocks Market (see Vol. I., p. ). When that happened, about , and Fleet Ditch was arched over, the business of the Stocks Market was transferred to the ground above the ditch, now called, as we have mentioned, . Such was the origin of [extra_illustrations.2.497.1] . It was opened for the sale of meat, fish and vegetables on the ; but it did not complete a century of existence here.

In it was found necessary to widen the thoroughfare from to ; so Fleet Market was removed from , and [extra_illustrations.2.497.2] , in the immediate vicinity, but off the line of the street, was opened in its stead. The site of this comparatively neglected mart covers an acre and a half of ground, and was built by William Montague, the city architect. It has for its southern boundary. The cost of the site and buildings was about . The following description of the market is of the date of its being opened for business, on the :--

It forms a handsome and elevated quadrangle, of

232

feet by

150

feet. The purchase of the ground, and the buildings which stood thereon, is estimated in round numbers at

£ 200,000

; the building of the market, including paviours' accounts, &c., is stated at

£ 80,000

.

The avenue

under which are the shops of the dealers, and which extends round

three

sides of the building, is

25

feet high, to what are technically termed the tie-beams, with ventilators ranged at equal distances. In the centre of the roof of the principal avenue a turret and clock have been placed. The chief entrance to the market is by

two

gates, for wagons, &c., in

Stonecutter Street

, which has been made double its former width, and

two

smaller ones for footpassengers; besides these, on each side of the quadrangle, massive oak doors are to be thrown open, from morning till the close of public business.

But careful building and liberal outlay seemed only thrown away. At a meeting of the Court of Common Council, held on the , to consider the advisability of reconstructing the market, it was stated that the receipts during the last years had only averaged . No wonder, then, that the court exhibited very little inclination to expend more money on a site which, exceedingly valuable as it would prove for other purposes, seems little suited for that of a market.

Many persons,

are of opinion that it is desirable to maintain the old Farringdon Market. In fact, the Corporation lately invited designs for its improvement, and have actually awarded prizes for the best. There can be no doubt that Farringdon Market, as it stands, is in a very bad position. It is quite behind the times in the matter of accommodation, and the gradients by which access to it is gained are so steep that accidents to carts and horses not infrequently happen. It may be open to improvement by the alteration of the levels as proposed, but the latest disposition of the Corporation appears to be to leave the old market to its fate, and build a new one west of that now in process of construction at Smithfield, a course which certainly would have many advantages. As regards the existing market, it may be said to do a fairish middle-class trade. Its produce, however, is very humble, and rarely rises above the rank of the modest onion, the plebeian cabbage, the barely respectable cauliflower, the homely apple, and other unpretending fruits and vegetables. Pineapples and hot-house grapes are unknown to its dingy sheds, and, as a sorrowing tradesman remarked, We never see such things as pears at 5s. a dozen! The market for vegetables, in fact, is supplied chiefly from the gardens in the immediate vicinity of London, say within a ten or twelve miles' radius, while the fruit comes almost exclusively from Kent. The more important supplies, from distant parts of the country, go to Covent Garden and the Borough. It is supposed that a better class trade would be done at Smithfield, but this is a disputed point.

In one commodity Farringdon does a great business. It is the market, par excellence, for watercresses. Of these there are about a score of vendors in the market, and sometimes as much as twenty tons a week are brought up for sale. The general market opens at four am., but the retailers of the watercress are allowed to enter an hour earlier, and they flock thither-men, women, boys, and girls-by hundreds at a time. The watercreases are brought in hampers, and in smaller baskets, called pads and flats. The toll for a hamper is twopence, and for a pad or flat one penny. The pleasant vegetable is sold by the end, the middle, and the side of the basketthose in the middle, as they are, of course, fresher than the rest, fetching the best price. The value of a hamper of watercresses is sometimes as high as twenty shillings, and as low as five, that of a pad or flat being half as much. But the most popular way of buying watercresses is by the hand; that is, the salesman sells as many handfuls--of his own hand, of course--as may be equivalent to the Fleet Market. (From A Drawing In Mr. Gardiner's Collection.) market value of a shilling. The price ranges from twelve to eighteen hands; but the buyer is always careful to see that he or she gets proper measure, calculated in a rough-and-ready sort of fashion, and one often hears the admonition, Don't pinch your hand, governor.

A visit to in early morning, Mr. Henry Mayhew holds, is the proper way to form an estimate of the fortitude, courage, and perseverance of the poor. These watercress sellers are members of a class so poverty-stricken that their extreme want alone would almost justify them in taking to thieving, yet they can be trusted to pay the few pence they owe, even though hunger should pinch them for it. As Douglas Jerrold has truly said,

there is goodness, like wild honey, hived in strange nooks and corners of the earth.

The heroism of the unknown poor,

is a thing to set even the dullest marvelling, and in no place in all London is the virtue of the humblest-both young and old-so conspicuous as amongst the watercress buyers at

Farringdon Market

.

Mr. Mayhew visited it morning. The poor, he says, were there, in every style of rags, laying in the necessary stock for their trade.

As the morning twilight drew on, the paved court was crowded with customers. The sheds and shops at the and of the market grew every moment more distinct, and a railway van, laden with carrots, came rumbling into the yard. The pigeons, too, began to fly into the sheds, or walk about the paving-stones, and the gas-man came round with his ladder to turn out the lamps. Then every

one

was pushing about, the children crying as their naked feet were trodden upon, and the women hurrying off with their baskets or shawls filled with cresses, and the bunch of rushes in their hands. In

one

corner of the market, busily tying up their bunches, were

three

or

four

girls, seated on the stones, with their legs curled up under them, and the ground near them was green with the leaves they had thrown away. A saleswoman, seeing me looking at the group, said,

Ah, you should come here of a summer's morning, and then you'd see 'em, sitting tying up, young and old, upwards of a hundred poor things, as thick as crows in a ploughed field.

On the east side of , and on a part of the site of the old , stands the [extra_illustrations.2.500.1] , a handsome new building, the foundation-stone of which was laid on the . This hall has been erected by the Congregationalists of England and Wales, in commemoration of the ejection from their charges, years ago--it was on the -of more than ministers of the Church of England, because they could not conscientiously subscribe to the Act of Uniformity. The ground purchased in consisted of feet of freehold land, with feet frontage to the main road, and feet to , and having a depth of about feet. It cost . The design for the memorial building, prepared by Mr. Tarring, comprised a hall capable of holding to people; a library, with accommodation for ; a board-room, and other offices, which it was calculated would be amply sufficient for all the societies connected with the denomination in London.

We come now to speak of of the greatest and most successful works ever undertaken in the city of London--the Valley improvements, an undertaking which will ever be quoted as a notable example of the energy and public spirit of our time. We have already spoken of the inconvenience and disagreeableness of the approach to the city from the west by . To avoid the dangerous descent of , it was at last resolved to construct a viaduct and high-level bridge over , and so to supplant , and form a spacious and pleasant thoroughfare connecting the city with that great Mediterranean of western traffic, and . This was done after long consultation, the consideration of many different schemes, and many attempts, not always successful, to reconcile conflicting interests. The works were commenced in , and if it was more than years before the valley was bridged over, and the viaduct opened to the public, we must consider the gigantic nature of the undertaking, and the delays in effecting the demolition of the old structures and roadway, embarrassed, too, by much litigation. The cost of the improvements con. siderably exceeded millions.

The scheme was originally calculated to cost about , the Corporation recouping themselves to the extent of from or , by the sale of building land on the sides of the new viaduct. It was resolved to remove the whole of the houses and shops on the south side of , , from the to , and thence to the summit of , while all the houses on the northern side were to be removed, enormous sums being paid in compensation--in case alone about being awarded.

The central object of this scheme was a stately and substantial viaduct across the Valley, between and the western end of . A new street was also to open from opposite , and pass by the back of St. Andrew's Church, to , which was to be widened as far as . Thence another new line of street, feet wide, and with easy gradients, was to be formed at the east end of , near its junction with . The viaduct across was to be feet wide, and was to commence at the west end of .

The impression left upon the mind after a

first

walk from

Holborn

to

Newgate Street

, along the Viaduct, is,

that of a wide and level thoroughfare raised above the old pavement, and of a spacious bridge crossing the The Congregational Memorial Hall, Farringdon Street busy line of Farringdon Street below. The improvement is so grand and yet so simple, and the direction taken by the new road is so obviously the easiest and the best, that difficulties of construction and engineering details are in a manner lost sight of, and it is not until the work concealed from the eye is dived into, that the true nature of the undertaking is understood. To know what has been accomplished, and to appreciate it rightly, the observer must leave the upper level, and penetrate the interior; to comprehend his subject, he must do as all patient learners do-commence at the foundation.

The problem that the engineer had to work out appears at first sight a simple one. The postulates were a bridge crossing the great artery of Farringdon Street, and a level causeway on either side from Holborn to Newgate Street. Then came considerations of detail that soon assumed a complex and difficult shape. Sewers, and gas, and water-pipes had to be carried, levels to be regarded, and connection with lateral thoroughfares had to be maintained. Then arose questions of modes of construction. Obviously, a solid embankment was not possible, and an open arcade would be a waste of valuable space. So the design gradually shaped itself into what may be briefly and accurately described as a plan consisting of two lateral passages, one on either side supporting the pavement, and cross arches, forming vaults between, and carrying the carriage roadway above.

As the great depth of the Holborn Valley caused the viaduct to be of considerable height at its point of crossing Farringdon Street, the engineer took advantage of this to subdivide his vaulted passages into storeys, and these accordingly are one, two, or three, as the dip of the level permits. First is appropriated a space for areas and vaulted cellars of the houses, and then against these is at top a subway, in which are the gas, water, and telegraph pipes; then a passage, and below these a vaulted chamber constructed with damp-proof courses through its walls, and of considerable depth, at the bottom of which, resting on a concrete bed, is the sewer.

The height of these subways is 11 feet 6 inches, and their width 7 feet. They are constructed of brickwork, excepting where carried over the London, Chatham, and Dover Railway, at which point they are of tubular form, and are constructed of iron.

The subways contain ventilating shafts, which are connected with trapped gullies in the roadway above; also with the pedestals of the lamp-posts, perforated for the purpose, and with flues expressly directed to be left in party-walls of buildings; all. these contrivances being made for the carrying off gases that may escape, especially from leakage from the gas-mains. Provision is made for the easy ingress of workmen and materials, and the subways are lighted by means of gratings filled with globules of thick glass.

The great ornamental feature of the [extra_illustrations.2.501.1]  is the bridge across . Unfortunately for the effect, it is a skew-bridge--that is, it crosses the street obliquely-but the design is rich and striking. It is a cast-iron girder-bridge, in spans, divided by the granite piers which carry the girders. These piers are massive hexagonal shafts of polished red granite, resting on bases of black granite, and having capitals of grey granite with bronze leaves, the outer piers being, however, carried above the railing on the parapet of the bridge, and terminating in pedestals, on which are placed colossal bronze statues. These statues represent Commerce and Agriculture on the south, and Science and Fine Art on the north side. The iron palisading consists of circular panels united by scrolls, and bearing emblazonings of civic crests and devices, with the city arms on a larger scale. At the corners of the bridge, and forming an intrinsic part of the design, are lofty houses, of ornate Renaissance character, within which are carried flights of steps, giving means of communication to pedestrians between the level of the Viaduct and that of . The fronts of these houses are adorned with the statues of civic worthies of the olden time. On the north are Sir Hugh Middleton (born , died ) and Sir William (Mayor and ); and on the south are Henry Fitz-Eylwin (Mayor to ) and Sir Thomas Gresham (born , died ).

On the south side of the Viaduct are the new station of the London, Chatham, and Dover Railway, and the new [extra_illustrations.2.501.2] , erected by the congregation of [extra_illustrations.2.501.3] . The latter is in a light Italian style of architecture. The chapel has its floor on a level with the roadway of the Viaduct, and is seated for persons. Underneath it are spacious school and class-rooms, entering from . Dr. Parker's congregation used to meet in the old chapel in the Poultry, but that building was found too small; it was therefore sold, and the present was erected, at a cost of , including the price () paid for the site.

The length of the Viaduct from to is about feet, and the width between the building-line feet, affording space for a -feet carriage-way in the centre, and pavements, each feet wide, at either side. The

During the demolition of the old streets and houses, for the purpose of clearing the ground for the Viaduct, nothing of any special value or interest was brought to light. The most noteworthy incidents, says a writer in the , of , were

the frequent discovery of all sorts of concealed passages for escape, and nooks for hiding plunder in the villainous old houses of

Field Lane

and its unsavoury neighbourhood, the removal of which alone should cause the

Holborn

Valley Improvement to be considered a blessing to this part of London. In carrying the new road through St. Andrew's Churchyard, a large slice of the ground was required, and this compelled the removal of a great number of human remains; between

11,000

and

12,000

were therefore decorously transferred to the city Cemetery at Ilford.

The opening of by the Queen took place on the , the same day as that on which Her Majesty opened the new bridge over the Thames at Blackfriars. The ceremony was an imposing , and excited uncommon interest and enthusiasm amongst all classes in the metropolis. The day fortunately was bright and fair, and, leaving out of account a momentary interruption of its sunshine, was as good as could have been looked for in November. having been opened, and a loyal address from the Corporation of London having previously been presented, the combined royal and civic processions passed up amidst an immense assemblage of people, the roadway in the middle being kept clear by soldiers and policemen. The Queen's carriage stopped for a moment before the Viaduct Bridge, that Her Majesty might observe the structure from below. She then passed under it, and turned up into , which she traversed on the west side of the Meat Market. Her attention was particularly directed to the market-building, which was gorgeously decorated with flags and streamers. From the procession turned into , and soon the neighbourhood re-echoed with the cheering of the Bluecoat boys, who, to the number of , were assembled in their playground, to give their sovereign a loyal welcome. Under St. Sepulchre's Church were ranged several hundreds of the boys and girls of the parish and charity schools; and what with their shrill acclamations, and those of the Bluecoat boys opposite, the effect is said to have been startling.

Here was the east end of the

Holborn

Valley Viaduct, close to Newgate Prison and St. Sepulchre's Church.

Two

colossal plaster statues,

one

bearing the palm of Victory, the. other the olive-branch of Peace, were set up at the entrance, and numerous banners helped the general effect. Along the level approach to the Viaduct, which was from end to end strewn with yellow sand, seats were placed under cover, and in well-arranged blocks, for the guests of the Corporation. Above these streamed in the fresh breeze bannerets of the dagger and

St. George's

Cross on a white ground, from days immemorial the arms of the city of London; and the masts to which they were attached were painted and gilt. The pavilion, which had seats for

600

spectators, was constructed of red and white striped canvas at the sides, but of goldcoloured hangings, with devices in colour at the end, and with curtains of maroon to keep out the draughts. The royal arms, in rich gilding, surmounted the main entrance, supported on each hand by the city arms above the side divisions.

Four

female figures, bearing golden baskets of fruit, were placed against the gilt divisions of the pavilion; and between each couple of fruit-bearers was a large statue, chosen from the best works in the possession of the Crystal Palace Company.

The visitors accommodated in the reserved places all rose as they heard the welcome of the boys and children at and St. Sepulchre's, and then took up the cheering. The procession slowly passed along the viaduct. More than once it came to a stop as the carriage of the Lord Mayor or an alderman halted at the platform in the pavilion, and its occupants alighted. When Her Majesty reached the platform and the carriage halted, the Lord Mayor presented Mr. Deputy Fry and Mr. Haywood, the engineer of the viaduct. Mr. Fry then handed to the Queen a volume elaborately bound in cream-coloured morocco, relieved with gold, and ornamented with the Royal arms of England, in mosaic of leather and gold; and Her Majesty declared the viaduct open for public traffic. The Lord Mayor and the other civic dignitaries then took leave of Her Majesty and returned to their carriages, and the procession again got under weigh. But it broke up immediately on passing through the gates of the temporary barrier, and

No sooner was this gigantic undertaking completed, and the viaduct open for traffic, than an alarm was raised-cracks had appeared in some of the great polished granite pillars which supported the bridge over . A lively newspaper correspondence was the result, and many wise things were said on both sides; but the pillars have borne heavy traffic and all the changes of temperature since then without any perceptible extension of the flaw, and the safety of the work is no longer, if it ever was seriously, in doubt.

The present church of [extra_illustrations.2.503.1] , was erected by Wren, in , on the site of the old church, in the Ward of Farringdon Without. Let us begin by speaking of the history of the old building. The exact date of its foundation is uncertain, but in we find it given by Gladerinus to the Dean and Chapter of ; it being stipulated at the same time that the church should be held of them by the Abbot and Convent of . The monasteries being dissolved in the reign of Henry VIII., the right of presentation devolved to the Crown, and the king made it over to Thomas Lord Wriothesley, afterwards Lord Chancellor and Earl of Southampton, who died , and was buried in St. Andrew's. At a later date the right of presentation became vested in the Duke of Buccleugh. The vicar mentioned by Newcourt goes under the name of Richard de Tadeclowe; he was appointed before the year , and among those who succeeded him in the old church were Thomas de Cottingham, in , keeper of the Great Seal, and Gilbert Worthington, in .

As to the appearance of the original building, we learn from the will of Gilbert Worthington, printed by Strype, that there were altars in it, if not more. The steeple was commenced in , but from some cause or other it was not finished till . During the interval the north and south aisles were rebuilt. At the general clearance of the Reformation St. Andrew's fared no better than its neighbours: in the year of Edward VI. many of the altars and statues were removed, and in that year and in the beginning of the reign of Elizabeth the numerous monumental brasses of this church were converted into current coin of the realm.

When the Great Fire ravaged the city, the church escaped; but being in a hopelessly ruinous condition it was taken down, with the exception of the tower, about years after that event, and a new building was in course of time erected in accordance with designs furnished by the great architect, Sir Christopher Wren.

The interior of this new church consisted of a nave, aisles, and chancel; and has been praised by many writers for its magnificence and beauty. Mr. Godwin, however, remarks that

an alteration in taste, as regards architectural productions, has been produced. The value of simplicity and breadth of parts, in opposition to minute divisions and elaborate ornament, has been admitted; and therefore, although it may be regarded as a large and commodious church--a good specimen of the style in which it is built, and as a construction well executed--it will not again obtain the unconditional praise which was formerly bestowed upon it.

Pillars,

cased with wainscot, support a gallery on either side; and at the west end, and from the top of the gallery-front, rise diminutive Corinthian columns bearing small blocks intended to represent an entablature, reminding one of the columns with the two chapiters or capitals, called Jachin and Boaz, mentioned in the description of Solomon's Temple. A wagon-headed ceiling of large span, in panels, supported on these blocks, and adorned with festoons of flowers and fruit, covers the body of the church. The ceiling of the aisles is groined, and opens into the wagon-headed ceiling, forming an arch between each of the columns. At the west end of the church there is a second gallery, at a great height from the ground, which is appropriated to the children of the Sunday schools. On the wall behind it were formerly some large paintings, but these have been obliterated.

The chancel is somewhat richly adorned with paintings, gilding, and stained glass; and the walls are covered with wainscot, which is veined to imitate Sienna marble, as high as the ceiling. Above the carved altar-piece is a large Palladian window in two storeys, containing in stained glass a representation of the Last Supper, and of the Ascension, executed by Price of York, in 1718. The colours are for the most part brilliant; but as a work of art, the window is not deserving of commendation. On either side of it are two large paintings (apparently in fresco) of St. Andrew and St. Peter, and two smaller panels representing the Holy Family and the infant St. John. In the ceiling of the chancel is introduced a glazed light, whereon is painted the dove. There are two other windows at the east end of the church which are filled with stained glass, namely, one in the north aisle containing the royal arms, and those of the donor, inscribed: 1687. Ex dono Thomae Hodgson de Bramwill in Agro Eboracen. Militis; and another, at the end of the south aisle, representing the arms of John Thavie, Esq., who, in the year 1348, left a considerable estate towards the support of this fabric for ever.

Towards the close of , St. Andrew's underwent a most thorough overhauling, and was reopened for public worship on Sunday, the of that year. The ancient tower, which used to be separated from the nave of the church by a screen-wall, with a gallery in front, was thrown open to the nave by the removal of the wall and gallery.

A ritual chancel was formed at the east end, the floor-level of which was raised feet above the floor-line of the nave, and choir-stalls were arranged north and south of the same. The old high-backed square pewing was removed, and in its place new low oak seating was substituted. The old windows were done away with, and new iron ones took their place, glazed with tinted cathedral glass.

In addition to these alterations, the church was re-decorated. The nave ceiling and groined ceilings of the galleries were painted in panels of a tempered turquoise blue as a ground-colour, with margins in stone and vellum, the enrichments being in white. The blue grounds were filled with a classic diaper, in self-colouring and white, the walls being a neutral of silver grey. The shafts of columns were finished in Indian red. The chancel ceiling was treated in the same manner as that of the nave, with this exception, that the enrichments to the panels were gilded.

A new organ was also constructed. It spans over the Gothic arch, and rests upon the galleries on either side.

The church contains a carved oak pulpit, and a sculptured marble font, displaying cherubim. The whole length of the building is stated as feet, the breadth feet, and the height feet.

The old organ of St. Andrew's, made by Harris, was celebrated as being part of the discarded instrument in the contest for superiority between Father Schmydt and Harris, at the Temple Church. This contest has been described by us at page

There.are no remarkable features to be pointed out in connection with the exterior of the church. It is divided into storeys, and terminates with a cornice and balustrade.

The old Gothic tower,

notwithstanding it was re-cased and adorned with vanes and pine-apples at the

four

corners, is still to be detected by the large buttresses left standing at the angles, and the small pointed windows remaining in the lower storey. The windows in the belfrey are singularly confused and ugly.

St. Andrews, says Mr. Godwin, is of the best-placed churches in London,

for as the west end is nearly at the summit of

Holborn Hill

, the foundation was necessarily continued throughout on this level, to the cast end in

Shoe Lane

; so

Interior Of St. Andrew's Church.

that the basement is there considerably elevated above the houses.

Among the tablets in the church is mentioned by Godwin as affixed to the north wall, and inscribed to Mr. John Emery, the famous comedian, who died on the . It bears the following couplet:

Each part he shone in, but excelled in none

So well as husband, father, friend, and son.

Peeping Tom

His

forte

,

lay in showing the might of human passion and affection, not only unaided by circumstance, but attended by everything which could tend to associate them with the ludicrous or the vulgar. The parts in which he displayed this prodigious power were as far as pos-

Statue of Sacheverell

Trial of Sacheverell

sible removed from the elegant and romantic, and his own stout frame and broad iron countenance did not give him any extrinsic aid to refine or exalt them. But in spite of all these obstacles, the energy of passion or the strength of agony was triumphant. Every muscle was strained to bursting, and every fibre informed with sense and feeling; every quiver of the lip, and involuntary action of the hands, spoke the might of that emotion which he was more than counterfeiting; and all little provincialisms, all traits of vulgarity, were forgotten in wonder and sympathy His

Tyke

was the, grandest specimen of the rude sublime; his

Giles,

in the

Miller's Man

, was almost as intense, and, the whole conception of a loftier cast.

Not content with seeing the amiable Anne Askew put to the torture,

for no other crime than difference in faith, he flung off his gown, degraded the Chancellor into the Bourreau, and with his own hands gave force to the rack. He was created Earl of Southampton just before the coronation of Edward VI., but obstinately adhering to the old religion, he was dismissed from his post, and confined to Southampton House, where he died in

1550

.

of the congenial tasks Wriothesley had to perform during the reign of Henry VIII., was to impeach and arrest the queen, Catherine Parr, for her. supposed heterodoxy. When he arrived, however, to take her into custody, the king had made friends again with his and last wife, and the chancellor was dismissed, his Majesty calling him knave, an arrant knave, a fool, a beast, and suchlike complimentary names. It was the influence of Wriothesley which chiefly led to the execution of the Earl of Surrey, and the attainder of the Duke of Norfolk, in . He was of the executors of Henry VIII., and an opponent of the Protector Somerset.

Another of those buried in this church was Henry Sacheverell, who died in . He was laid in the chancel, where there is an inscription on the pavement to his memory. It may well be left to another occasion to tell the story of this divine, and of the famous sermons which he preached at Derby and at , with the object of exciting alarm for the safety of the Church, and creating hostility against the Dissenters. Being impeached in the , in the year , he was sentenced to be suspended from preaching for years. But this prosecution established the popularity of the preacher; and the very month that his suspension terminated, he was appointed to the valuable rectory of St. Andrew's, . Like many who owe their popularity to circumstances, rather than to any merit of their own, Sacheverell dropped, in , into comparative obscurity, and nothing worthy of noteis told of him, but that his quarrels with his parishioners were by no means unfrequent-just as might have expected from so pugnacious a character. He had the good luck, during his latter days, to inherit a considerable fortune.

There is much of interest connected with the registers of St. Andrew's. Some of the books are dated as far back as , the year of Queen Elizabeth's reign. of the volumes, containing entries from to , is wholly occupied with proclamations of marriage during the interregnum, when they were published in the market-place. For example:

An agreement and intent of marriage between John Law and Ffrances Riley, both servants to the Lady Brooke, of this parish, was published

three

several markett-days in Newgate Markett; and in

three

several weeks, that is to say, &c.

Public Meeting-place, commonly called St. Andrew's,

Holborn

.

The extract quoted above from the register is an illustration of a curious chapter in the history of marriage customs and laws in England. By a statute of , the betrothed couple were allowed to choose whether they would be

asked

In the absence of conclusive evidence on the matter,

I have no doubt that the street banns of our forefathers, in Cromwell's England, were rarely proclaimed by, clergymen. On the other hand it is certain that the bellman was, in many places, regularly employed to cry aloud for impediments to the wedding of precise lovers.

The parish register contains interesting entries of marriage, the of which is that of Edward Coke,

the Queen's Attorney-General,

my Lady Elizabeth Hatton,

Lady Elizabeth Hatton proved a Tartar. When, many years afterwards, [extra_illustrations.2.507.1]  proposed a marriage between his younger daughter by Lady Hatton and Sir John Villiers, she raised a tempest, and resenting her husband's attempt to dispose of the daughter without asking her consent, carried the young lady off, and lodged her at Sir Edmund Withipole's, near Oatlands. Sir Edward complained to the Privy Council, and then went with his sons to Oatlands and captured his daughter, a proceeding which induced Lady Hatton to complain to the Privy Council in her turn. Much confusion followed, but at last the marriage of the young couple actually did take place. Then the ill--will between the old people broke out again, and many letters are still in existence, showing a great deal of heat and resentment in both parties. At time Sir Edward publicly accused his wife of having purloined his plate, and substituted counterfeited in its place, with intent to defraud him; but she had quite as good to say about him. In about years their reconciliation seems to have been effected, and that by no less a mediator than James I., but they never enjoyed anything like domestic happiness.

The other entry of marriage is that of Colonel Hutchinson and Lucy Apsley, in . And here, by way of contrast to the last, we have of the most touching instances of womanly affection that ever was set down in writing. Mrs. Hutchinson is best known by her of the life of her husband, a charming volume of biography. The account given by her of the courtship which led up to the ceremony before the altar of St. Andrew's is a narrative which all should read, and which all will enjoy.

Mr. Hutchinson fell in love with the lady before seeing her. He had been invited to go to Richmond by his music-master, a man who stood high in his profession, and had been warned by a friend to take heed of the place, for it was so fatal to love, that never any young disengaged person went thither who returned again free. He determined, however, to run the risk, and went. The musician's house was a lively , frequented by much good company, including gentlemen and ladies connected with the court, and many of the king's musicians.

There happened to be boarded there, for the practice of the lute, and till the return of her mother, a younger daughter of Sir Allen Apsley, late Lieutenant of the Tower. The mother had gone into Wiltshire to complete a treaty, in which some progress had been made, about the marriage of her elder daughter.

This young girl;

that was left in the house with Mr. Hutchinson, was a very child, her elder sister being at that time scarcely past it, but a child of such pleasantness and vivacity of spirit, and ingenuity in the quality she practised, that Mr. Hutchinson took pleasure in hearing her practise, and would fall in a discourse with her. She having the keys of her mother's house, some half a mile distant, would sometimes ask Mr. Hutchinson, when she went over, to walk along with her.

One day, when he was there, looking upon an odd by-shelf in her sister's closet, he found a few Latin books. Asking whose they were, he was told they were her elder sister's, whereupon, inquiring more after her, he began first to be sorry she was gone before he had seen her, and gone upon such an account that he was not likely to see her. Then he grew to love to hear mention of her, and the other gentlewomen who had been her companions used to talk much to him of her, telling him how reserved and studious she was, and other things which they esteemed no advantage; but it so much inflamed Mr. Hutchinson's desire of seeing her, that he began to wonder at himself that his heart, which had ever had such an indifferency for the most excellent of womenkind, should have so strong impulses towards a stranger he never saw; and certainly it was of the Lord (though he perceived it not), who had ordained him, through so many providences, to be yoked with her in whom he found so much satisfaction.

Her praises continued to be daily sounded in his ears; but at last news arrived which led all the company present day at table to concluded that Miss Lucy- or

Mrs.

But it proved a false alarm, and some little time after she made her appearance, and the lover, who had fallen in love with a shadow, met the reality.

His heart, being prepossessed with his own fancy, was not free to discern how little there was in her to answer so great an expectation. She was not ugly; in a careless riding habit; she had a melancholy negligence both of herself and others, as if she neither affected to please others, nor took notice of anything before her; yet in spite of all her indifferency, she was surprised with some unusual liking in her soul when she saw this gentleman, who had hair, eyes, shape, and countenance enough to beget love in any

one

at the

first

, and these set off with a graceful and generous mien, which promised an extraordinary person; he was at that time, and indeed always, very neatly habited, for he wore good and rich clothes, and had variety of them, and had them well suited, and every way answerable; in that little thing showing both good judgment and great generosity, he equally becoming them and they him, which he wore with such unaffectedness and such neatness, as do not often meet in

one

. Although he had but an evening sight of her he had so long desired, and that at disadvantage enough for her, yet the prevailing sympathy of his soul made him think all his pains well paid; and this

first

did whet his desire to a

second

sight, which he had by accident the next day, and, to his joy, found she was wholly disengaged from that treaty which he so much feared had been accomplished; he found withal, that though she was modest, she was accostable,. and willing to entertain his acquaintance. This soon passed into a mutual friendship between them, and though she innocently thought nothing of love, yet was she glad to have acquired such a friend, who had wisdom and virtue enough to be trusted with her councils, for she was then much perplexed in mind. Her mother and friends had a great desire she should marry, and were displeased that she refused many offers which they thought advantageous enough; she was obedient, loath to displease them, but more herself, in marrying such as she could find no inclination to.

It was not long before friendship on her part passed into love; but of their mutual affection in its full height Mrs. Hutchinson limits herself to saying this,

There never was a passion more ardent and less idolatrous; he loved her better than his life, with inexpressible tenderness and kindness; had a most high obliging esteem of her, yet still considered honour, religion, and duty above her, nor ever suffered the intrusion of such a dotage as should blind him from marking her imperfections; these he looked upon with such an indulgent eye as did not abate his love and esteem of her, while it augmented his care to blot out all those spots which might make her appear less worthy of that respect he paid her; and thus, indeed, he soon made her more equal to him than he found her; for she was a very faithful mirror, reflecting truly, though but dimly, his own glories upon him, so long as he was present. But she, that was nothing before his inspection gave her a fair figure, when he was removed, was only filled with a dark mist, and never could again take in any delightful object, nor return any shining representation. The greatest excellency she had was the power of apprehending, and the virtue of loving his; so, as his shadow, she waited on him everywhere, till he was taken into that region of light that admits of none, and then she vanished into nothing.

Unfortunately, the very day the friends on both sides met to conclude the marriage, she fell ill of the small-pox.

First

her life was almost in desperate hazard, and then the disease, for the present, made her the most deformed person that could be seen for a great while after she recovered. Yet Mr. Hutchinson was nothing troubled at it, but married her as soon as she was able to quit the chamber, when the priest and all that saw her were affrighted to look on her; but God recompensed his justice and constancy by restoring her, though she was longer than ordinary before she recovered, as well as before .... On the

third day of July, 1638

, he was married to Mrs. Lucy Apsley, the

second

daughter of Sir Allan Apsley, late lieutenant of the

Tower of London

, at St. Andrew's Church, in

Holborn

.

Their subsequent career need only be glanced at. In Mr. Hutchinson became a lieutenantcolonel in the parliamentary army, and in was appointed governor of Nottingham Castle. He took an active part in the struggles of the civil war, and in the government of the days of the Commonwealth, and proved himself a true patriot, honest and earnest in his endeavours to serve the best interests of his country. He was an uncompromising republican, brave, high-minded, and unaffectedly pious. At the Restoration he was discharged from Parliament, and from all offices of state for ever. In , he was arrested, imprisoned at Newark, thence carried to the Tower, and in the next year removed to Sandown Castle, where he fell ill and died on the . His noble wife was refused permission toshare his confinement.

Richard Savage, the poet, son of the unnatural Countess of Macclesfield, was, according to Dr. Johnson, christened in this church by the direction of Lord Rivers, his reputed father; in --.

In the register of burials of St. Andrew's parish, under the date , appears the following entry:--

William Chatterton, Brooks Street;

the poet,

J. Mill.

In the churchyard of St. Andrew's, , lie the remains of another poet, Henry Neele, author, among other works, of the He was born in , on the , and early in life was apprenticed to a solicitor. During his clerkship-namely, in -he made his appearance as an author before the public, and from that time continued to publish occasionally, until , on the of which year, in a fit of insanity, incipient, it is true, but encouraged by excessive reading, he unhappily destroyed himself. Against the west wall of the churchyard is a gravestone commemorative of his father, and bearing an epitaph written by Henry Neele. On the same stone, together with the names of several others of the family, is the record of the poet's own premature death. The epitaph written by him is as follows:--

Good night, good night, sweet spirit! Thou hast cast

Thy bonds of clay away from thee at last;

Broke the vile earthly fetters, which alone

Held thee at distance from thy Maker's throne.

But, oh! those fetters to th' immortal mind

Were links of love to those thou'st left behind.

For thee we mourn not; as the apostle prest

His dungeon pillow, till the angel guest

Drew nigh; and when the light that round him shone

Beamed on the pris'ner, his bands were gone:

So wert thou captive to disease and pain,

Till death, the brightest of th' angelic train,

Poured heaven's own radiance, by divine decree,

Around thy suffering soul, and it was free.

St. Andrew's has been called

the poet's church,

I never saw anything,

like the funeral dirge in this play for the death of Marcello, except the ditty which reminds Ferdinand of his drowned father in the

Tempest

. As that is of the water, watery, so this is of the earth, earthy. Both have that intensity of feeling which seems to resolve itself into the element which it contemplates.

Call for the robin redbreast, and the wren,

Since o'er shady groves they hover,

And with leaves and flowers do cover

The friendless bodies of unburied men.

Call unto his funeral dole

The ant, the fieldmouse, and the mole,

To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm,

And (when gay tombs are robbed) sustain no harm

But keep the wolf far thence, that's foe to men,

For with his nails he'll dig them up again.

The , Webster's great play,

is not,

in my judgment, quite so spirited or effectual a performance as the

White Devil

. But it is distinguished by the same kind of beauties, clad in the same terrors.

I do not know but the occasional gleams of passion are even profounder and more Shakesperian; but the story is more laboured, and the horror is accumulated to an overwhelming and insupportable height.

In the church register there is also entered the burial of Nathaniel Tomkins, executed for his share in Waller's plot. Tomkins was Waller's brother-in-law. The plot for which he suffered is of the noted conspiracies of history. Waller, the poet, in conjunction with Tomkins, Challoner, Blinkhorne, and a few others, had undertaken to seize the persons of the leading members of the , and to deliver up the city of London to Charles, who had sent in a commission of array very secretly, by means of the Lady Aubigny, whose husband had fallen at Edgehill.

A servant of Tomkins overheard the conversation of the conspirators, and revealed what he knew to Pym, who presently seized their chief and brought him to trial, where he confessed everything with amazing alacrity, and crawled in the dust, in the hope of saving his life. The jury of

Guildhall

found a verdict of guilty against all the prisoners.

St. Andrew's Church, From Snow Hill, In 1850.

Tomkins and Challoner were hanged, the

one

in

Holborn

, and the other in

Cornhill

, both within sight of their own dwelling-houses; Blinkhorn, Hassell, White, and Waller were, by the mercy of Parliament and the Lord-General Essex, reprieved, and eventually saved. Waller, the chief of them, was detained in the Tower, but, about a year after, upon payment of

£ 10,000

, was pardoned

and released to go travel abroad.

Another burial we must notice is that, in , of Joseph Strutt, the author of and several other works of an antiquarian character. Strutt was born at Springfield, in Essex, on the , and was educated as an artist. In he became a student at the Royal Academy, and was successful in winning both the gold and silver medals there. He served an apprenticeship to the unfortunate Ryland, and when his term expired, began to unite literary labours of an antiquarian character with those of his artistic profession. In he published his book, and subsequently a

heavy book,

The calamities incident to man were indeed his portion on this earth, and these greatly augmented by unkindnesses where he least deserved to have met with them. He was charitable without ostentation; a sincere friend, without intentional guile; a dutiful son; a faithful and affectionate husband; a good father; a worthy man; and, above all, it is humbly hoped, a sincere Christian. His natural talents were great, but little cultivated by early education. The numerous works which he gave to the world as an author and as an artist, prove that he employed his time to the best advantage.

That celebrated preacher, William Whiston, once made himself rather troublesome in connection with this church. He constantly attended and partook of the communion. On his principles becoming known he was warned by Sacheverell to forbear partaking of the sacrament.

Wicked Will

If I should give my consent, I should show myself to be as foolish and passionate as Sacheverell himself.

Whiston was born in , and died in . During his life he head many ups and downs, and seems to have been long tossed to and fro on a sea of religious doubt and metaphysical uncertaint. Towards the close of his career he distinguished himself by an abortive attempt to discover the longitude, and by his opinions on the Millennium and the restoration of the Jews. He was a favourite with Queen Caroline, who presented him with every year from the time she became queen, which pension was continued for some time after her death. We get a glimpse of the queen and the eccentric divine in the following anecdote told by Whiston's son. The queen, who liked Whiston's free conversation, once asked him what people in general said of her. He replied that they justly esteemed her as a lady of great abilities, a patron of learned men, and a kind friend to the poor.

But,

no

one

is without faults, pray what are mine?

Pray,

tell me what is my next?

When your majesty has amended of that fault I will tell you of your next;

But we must not be carried away, by recollection of such tales, to forget St. Andrew's. Hacket, who afterwards became a bishop, was rector here for several years. This divine was born near Exeter House in , on the , and was educated at Trinity College, Cambridge. He took orders in the year , and we find him passing through various stages of advancement till in he landed in the post of chaplain to James I., with whom he became a favourite preacher. In , upon the recommendation of the Lord Keeper, Dr. Williams, he was made rector of St. Andrew's, . His patron also procured him, in the course of the same year, the rectory of Cheam, in Surrey, telling him that he intended for wealth and Cheam for health.

During the time of the Civil War he was in danger, through his allegiance to the unpopular party, of getting into trouble.

One

Sunday,

whilst he was reading the Common Prayer in St. Andrew's, a soldier of the Earl of Essex came, clapped a pistol to his breast, and commanded him to read no farther. Not at all terrified, Hacket said he would do what became a divine, and he might do what became a soldier. He was permitted to proceed.

At the Restoration he was made Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, and set a noble example by exhibiting a degree of munificence worthy of his station. He expended in repairing his cathedral, and was, besides, a liberal benefactor to the college of which he had been a member. He was the author of the Life of Archbishop Williams, a quaint and learned work, half made up of quotations, like Burton's

As for his character, he is described as having

The Dissenters once got an agreeable surprise whilst Hacket was rector of St. Andrew's. Soon after the Restoration, having received notice of the interment of a Dissenter belonging to his parish, he got the burial service by heart. He was a fine elocutionist, and besides felt deeply the propriety and excellence of what he had to deliver; so he went through the service with such emphasis and grace as touched the hearts of all who were present, and particularly of the friends of the deceased, who unanimously gave it as their opinion that they had never heard a finer discourse. Their astonishment may be conceived when they learned that it was taken word for word from the Liturgy, a book which, though they had never read it, they affected to hold in contempt and detestation. Other clergymen, it is said, have been known to practise the same pious fraud as Mr. Hacket, and with a like success.

During Mr. Hacket's time St. Andrew's was old and decayed. He took in hand to rebuild it, and for that purpose got together a great sum of money, but on the breaking out of the Civil War the funds were seized by Parliament, as well as those which had been gathered for the repair of , so that he was unable to carry out his praiseworthy intentions.

Another eminent rector of St. Andrew's was Stillingfleet, who was afterwards raised to the see of Worcester. Stillingfleet was truly a controversial divine, his life being long warfare with Romanists, Nonconformists, Socinians, and the philosopher, John Locke. Among his Nonconformist opponents were Owen, Baxter, and Howe. He was born in , and died in . He was presented to the living of St. Andrew's, , in , by Thomas, Earl of Southampton. His biographer describes his person as tall, graceful, and well-proportioned; his countenance as comely, fresh; and awful.

His apprehension was quick and sagacious; his judgment exact and profound; and his memory very tenacious; so that considering how intensely he studied, and how he read everything, it is easy to imagine him what he really was,

one

of the most universal scholars that ever lived.

Stillingfleet was at time chaplain to King Charles II., and in that capacity exhibited considerable ability as a courtier. On occasion it is told that his majesty asked him

how it came about that he always read his sermons before him, when he was informed he invariably preached without book elsewhere?

the awe of so noble an audience, where he saw nothing that was not greatly superior to him, but chiefly the seeing before him so great, and wise a prince, made him afraid to trust himself.

But pray,

will your majesty, give me leave to ask you a question, too? Why do you read your speeches, when you have none of the same reasons?

Why, truly, doctor,

your question is a very pertinent

one

, and so will be my answer. I have asked them so often, and for so much money, that I am ashamed to look them in, the face.

Amongst the rectors of St. Andrew's was the Rev. Charles Barton, who died in , and of whom an anecdote worth repeating is given by the historian of the churches of London. He had acted diligently as curate of the church for several years, when the previous rector died, and presuming on length of service, he waited on the Duchess-Dowager of Buccleugh to ask for the living.

You have come soon, and yet too late,

for having made up my mind a dozen years ago as to whom I would give St. Andrew's, I have sent my servant with the presentation.

Ah,

her Grace loves a joke,

Under an Act of Parliament passed in the reign of Queen Anne, and. in consequence of the proceedings that took place in connection with it, the parish of St. George the Martyr, , which before had formed part of St. Andrew's, , was erected into a distinct parish for spiritual purposes, although still united with St. Andrew's as regards the poor, and other secular matters.

Newcourt informs us that a public grammar-school was among the adjuncts of the church. It was of those erected by Act of Parliament in the reign of Henry VI., and, according to Maitland, stood on the right side of the church, and was taken down in .

[extra_illustrations.2.497.1] Fleet Market

[extra_illustrations.2.497.2] Farringdon Market

[extra_illustrations.2.500.1] Congregational Memorial Hall and Library

[extra_illustrations.2.501.1] Viaduct

[extra_illustrations.2.501.2] Congregational city Temple

[extra_illustrations.2.501.3] Dr. Joseph Parker

[extra_illustrations.2.503.1] St. Andrew's, Holborn

[extra_illustrations.2.506.3] Thomas Wriothesley, Lord Chancellor

[extra_illustrations.2.507.1] Sir Edward Coke