CHAPTER XXII.
CORNHILL, GRACECHURCH STREET, AND FENCHURCH STREET,
Mediæval Cornhill—The Standard—St. Michael's, Cornhill—St. Peter's—The First London Printsellers—A Comedian's Tragedy—Dreadful Fire
in Cornhill—The First Coffee-house in London—" Garraway's"—Birchin Lane—St. Bennet Gracechurch—George Fox—Fenchurch Street—Denmark House—St. Dionis Backchurch—The Church of St. Margaret Pattens—Billiter Street—Ironmongers' Hall—Mincing Lane—The
Clothworkers' Company—The Mark Lane Corn Exchange—The Corn Ports of London—Statistics and Curiosities of the Corn Trade—An Old Relic.
What we have already written of the discovery of
Roman antiquities on the site of the Royal Exchange will serve to show how completely Cornhill
traverses the centre of Roman London.
A corn-market, says Stow, was, "time out of
mind, there holden." Drapers were the earliest
inhabitants. Lydgate speaks of it as a place where
old clothes were bought, and sometimes stolen—
"Then into Corn Hyl anon I yode,
Where was mutch stolen gere amonge;
I saw where honge myne owne hoode,
That I had lost amonge the thronge;
To buy my own hood I thought it wronge,
I knew it well as I dyd my crede,
But for lack of money I could not spede."
The two great ornaments of mediaeval Cornhill
were the Tun, a round house, or temporary prison,
and the Standard, a water conduit, and point of
measurement.
The Tun, says Stow, was built in the year 1282,
by Henry Wallis, Mayor of London, as a prison
for night offenders. For breaking open the prison
and releasing prisoners, certain citizens, in the
reign of Edward I., were fined 20,000 marks.
Abandoned priests were sometimes locked up here.
In 1401 the Tun was turned into a conduit, and a
cage, stocks, and pillory added, for scolds and
cheating bakers. Rascals of various kinds were,
in Edward IV.'s reign, compelled to ride from
Newgate to this pillory, in Cornhill, and there
stand, with papers detailing their offences tied to
their heads.
The Standard was a conduit, with four spouts,
made by Peter Morris, a German, in the year
1582, and supplied with Thames water, conveyed
by leaden pipes over the steeple of St. Magnus'
Church. It stood at the east end of Cornhill, at
its junction with Gracechurch Street, Bishopsgate
Street, and Leadenhall Street. The water ceased
to run between 1598 and 1603, but the Standard
itself remained long after. It was much used as a
point of measurement of distances; and Cunningham says that several of our suburban milestones
are still inscribed with "so many miles from the
Standard in Cornhill." There was a Standard in
Cornhill as early as the 2nd of Henry V.
Cornhill, considering its commercial importance,
is a street by no means full of old memories.
St. Michael's, Cornhill, is one of seven London
churches dedicated to the Archangel Michael,
the patron saint of France. It formerly faced
Cornhill, but in the reign of Edward IV. it was
blocked out by four houses, and it may now be described as standing on the east side of St. Michael's
Alley. It is probable that a Saxon church first
stood here; but the earliest record of the fabric
is previous to 1133. In that year the Abbot of
Evesham granted it to Sparling, a priest, for the rent
of one mark a year, and lodging, salt, water, and
firing to the abbot, whenever he came to London.
In 1503 the Abbey of Evesham ceded it to the
Drapers' Company for an annuity of £5 6s. 8d.
William Rous, sheriff of London in 1429, and
who was buried in the chapel of St. Mary in
this church, left £100 to found an altar in the
chancel, and £40 towards a new tower, the old
one having been burnt down in 1421. At the
south side of the church there was originally a
cloister, and in the churchyard a pulpit-cross, built
by Sir John Rudston, Lord Mayor of London, who
was buried beneath it. In the church is interred
one of our old chroniclers, Alderman Fabian, who
died in 1511. He is well known for his "Chronicles
of England and France," which he termed "The
Concordance of Histories." Here also rest the
remains of the ancestors of another useful London
chronicler, who was born in this parish, where his
predecessors had resided for three generations.
Stow's father and grandfather were both buried
here. The grandfather, a tallow-chandler, with
due remembrance of candles sold by him for such
purposes, directs in his will that from All Hallows'
Day till the Candlemas following a watching-candle
burn on all the seven altars of the church from six
o'clock till past seven, in worship of the seven sacraments. He also gave to a poor man and woman,
every Sunday in one year, one penny to say five
paternosters and aves and a creed for his soul.
The old church, all but the tower, was destroyed
by the Great Fire, and Wren commenced the
present building in 1672. The tower itself had to
be rebuilt in 1721. The body of the church is in
the Italian style, divided by Doric columns and
arches. The tower is perpendicular, in imitation
of the chapel tower at Magdalen College, Oxford,
and it rises to the height of 130 feet. Wren spoiled
his rival tower by a mixture of Italian details. This
church was magnificently decorated in 1859, from
designs by Mr. G. G. Scott.
The chronicler Stow has the following legend,
relating how the devil came down to St. Michael's
belfry in a storm of lightning:—"Upon St. James's
Night," says our venerable author, "certain men
in the loft next under the bells, ringing of a peal,
a tempest of lightning and thunder did arise:
an ugly-shapen sight appeared to them coming in
at the south window and lighted on the north.
For fear whereof they all fell down, and lay as
dead for the time, letting the bells ring and cease
of their own accord. When the ringers came to
themselves, they found certain stones of the north
window to be raised and scratched, as if they had
been so much butter printed with a lyon's claw; the
same stones were fastened there again, and so remain
till this day. I have seen them oft, and have put
a feather or small stick into the holes where the
claws had entered three or four inches deep."
A brass slab preserved at St. Peter's, Cornhill,
claims that building as the first Christian church
founded in London. The legendary founder was
Lucius, the first Christian king, A.D. 179. It is
said to have remained the metropolitan church of
the kingdom till the coming of St. Augustine, four
hundred years after.
In the reign of Henry III. one Geffrey Russell,
who had been implicated in a murder said to have
been committed by another man in St. Peter's
Churchyard, fled for sanctuary to St. Peter's Church.
In the year 1243, one of the priests attached to
St. Peter's, Cornhill, was murdered. The patronage of the rectory came into the hands of Sir
Richard Whittington, and others, who conveyed it,
in 1411, to the Lord Mayor and Commonalty of
London. Among the celebrated rectors we must
not forget Dr. William Beveridge, afterwards Bishop
of St. Asaph. Dr. Beveridge (died 1708) was an
eminent theological writer, famous for his Syriac
Grammar, and his laborious work on the Apostolical
Canons. The old church was destroyed by the
Great Fire, and the present edifice erected in 1686
by Sir Christopher Wren. The tower of brick is
surmounted by a small leaden cupola and spire,
crowned by an enormous key. The church contains a tablet recording the death, in a great fire,
January 18th, 1782, of the seven children of James
Woodmason, of Leadenhall Street. Leading from
the church, it is said, is a subterranean passage,
entered by a flight of steps from the belfry. Some
"London tavern" apprentices are reported, many
years ago, to have explored this passage, which is
now bricked up. Many years ago a stone coffin and
urn were found within the enclosure of the church.
One of the most celebrated taverns in Cornhill
was the "Pope's Head," mentioned as early as
the reign of Edward IV. Here, in the reign of
Henry VI., wine was sold at a penny a pint, without
charge for bread. Stow seems to think the "Pope's
Head" had once been a royal palace. In his time
the ancient arms of England (three leopards supported by two angels) were to be seen engraved in
stone on the walls. It was here that the Alicant
and English goldsmiths decided their wager, as we
have already mentioned in our chapter on the
Goldsmiths' Company. In 1615, Sir William
Craven (father of the first Earl of Craven) left the
"Pope's Head" to the Merchant Taylors' Company,
for charitable purposes, and the Company had in
1849 nine houses on that spot. The first edition
of Speed's "Great Britain" (folio, 1611) was sold by
John Sudbury and George Humble in Pope's Head
Alley, at the sign of the "White Horse." This
firm, says Cunningham, were the first printsellers
established in London. Ben Jonson mentions the
pamphlets of Pope's Alley, and Peacham, in his
"Complete Gentleman," alludes to the printsellers.
Before the Great Fire, the alley was famous for its
traders in toys and turners' ware. In Strype's
time (thirty years later) it was especially affected by
cutlers. The "Pope's Head" tavern was the scene
of a fray, in April, 1718, between Quin, the actor,
and his fellow-comedian Bowen. The latter, a hotheaded Irishman, jealous of Quin's success, sent
for him to the "Pope's Head." As soon as Quin
entered, Bowen, in a transport of envy and rage,
planted his back against the door, drew his sword,
and bade Quin draw his. Quin in vain remonstrated, but at last drew in his own defence, and
tried to disarm his antagonist. Bowen eventually
received a mortal wound, of which he died in three
days, confessing at last his folly and madness.
Quin was tried, and honourably acquitted.
Cornhill has been the scene of two dreadful fires.
The first, in 1748, commenced at a peruke-maker's,
in Exchange Alley, and burnt from ninety to one
hundred houses, valued at £200,000, and many
lives were lost. This conflagration swept away a few
historical houses, including the London Assurance
Office, the "Fleece" and "Three Tuns" taverns,
"Tom's" and the "Rainbow" coffee-houses, the
"Swan" tavern, "Garraway's," "Jonathan's," and
the "Jerusalem" coffee-houses, in Exchange Alley,
besides the "George and Vulture" tavern. It likewise destroyed No. 41, Cornhill, a few doors from
Birchin Lane, the house where, in 1716, the poet
Gray had been born. Gray's father was an Exchange broker. The house was rebuilt, and was,
in 1774, occupied by Natzell, a perfumer. In 1824
the occupant was also a perfumer. The second great
fire, in 1765, also commenced at a peruke-maker's,
in Bishopsgate Street, near Leadenhall Street. It
made a clean sweep of all the houses from Cornhill
to St. Martin Outwich; and the church parsonage,
Merchant Taylors' Hall, and several houses in
Threadneedle Street, were much damaged. The
"White Lion" tavern, purchased the evening before
for £3,000, all the houses in White Lion Court, five
houses in Cornhill, and several houses in Leadenhall Street, were burnt, and several lives lost.
No. 15, Cornhill, with an old-fashioned front,
was the shop of Messrs. Birch, the celebrated cooks
and confectioners. We have already mentioned
Mr. Birch, Lord Mayor in 1815–16, as the poet and
orator, who wrote the "Adopted Child," and other
dramatic works. He annually presented the mayor
with a splendid cake, to keep Twelfth Night.
At a corner house, says Mr. Timbs, between Cornhill and Lombard Street, Thomas Guy, the wealthy
stationer, commenced business. He was the son
of a lighterman at Horsleydown, and was apprenticed to a Cheapside bookseller, as before
mentioned by us. The "Lucky Corner" was subsequently Pidding's Lottery Office. There were
other lottery offices in Cornhill, including that of
Carroll, Lord Mayor in 1846.
Change Alley, Cornhill, recalls the days of the
South Sea Bubble, and brings up recollections of
Addison, Pope, and Gay. The latter poet mentions it in his verses to his friend Snow, the goldsmith and banker, near Temple Bar, who had been
caught by the Bubble:—
"Why did 'Change Alley waste thy precious hours
Among the fools who gaped for golden show'rs?
No wonder if we found some poets there,
Who live on fancy, and can feed on air;
No wonder they were caught by South Sea schemes,
Who ne'er enjoyed a guinea but in dreams."
In St. Michael's Alley, in the time of the Commonwealth, the first London coffee-house was
established. It was opened, about the year 1652,
by Bowman, the ex-coachman of Mr. Hodges, a
Turkey merchant. His first partner was Pasque
Rosee, a Levantine servant of the same merchant,
Bowman afterwards dissolved partnership, and
obtained leave to pitch a tent and sell the "sooty
drink," at first so much villified by the jealous
vintners, in St. Michael's churchyard. Four years
after, Bowman's apprentice set up a coffee-house
opposite St. Michael's Church. The novelty was
soon over, in spite of the lampooners, who declared
it made men unfruitful, and that to drink the new
liquor was to ape the Turks and insult one's canarydrinking ancestors. "Were it the mode," says the
writer of "Coffee in its Colours" (1663), "men
would eat spiders."
"Garraway's," the coffee-house celebrated for two
centuries, in Exchange Alley, is now pulled down.
It was here that, after the Restoration, Garraway
issued the following shop-bill:—"Tea in England
hath been sold in the leaf for six pounds, and sometimes for ten pounds the pound weight, and in
respect of its former scarceness and dearness it
hath been only used as a regalia in high treatments
and entertainments, and presents made thereof to
princes and grandees, till the year 1657. The said
Thomas Garway did purchase a quantity thereof,
and first publicly sold the said tea in leaf, and
drink made according to the directions of the
most knowing merchants and travellers into those
eastern countries; and upon knowledge and experience of the said Garway's continued care and
industry in obtaining the best tea, and making
drink thereof, very many noblemen, physicians,
merchants, and gentlemen of quality, have ever
since sent to him for the said leaf, and daily resort
to his house, in Exchange Alley aforesaid, to drink
the drink thereof. . . . . These are to give notice
that the said Thomas Garway hath tea to sell from
16s. to 50s. a pound."
Defoe (1722) mentions Garraway's as frequented
about noon by people of quality who had business
in the City, and the more considerable and wealthy
citizens. Dean Swift, in his ballad on the South
Sea Bubble, calls Change Alley "a narrow sound
though deep as hell," and describes the wreckers
watching for the shipwrecked dead on "Garraway's
cliffs." Two excellent anecdotes of Dr. Radcliffe,
the eminent physician of the reigns of William III.
and Queen Anne, connect him with Garraway's.
The first relates to Dr. Hannes, a quack, who had
ordered his servant to stop a number of gentlemen's coaches between Whitehall and the Royal
Exchange, and inquire whether they belonged to
Dr. Hannes, as if he was called to a patient. Not
hearing of him in any coach, the fellow ran up
into Exchange Alley, and entering Garraway's Coffee
House, made the same interrogatories both above
and below. At last, Dr. Radcliffe, who was usually
there about Exchange time, and planted at a table
with several apothecaries and chirurgeons that
flocked about him, cried out, "Dr. Hannes was
not there," and desired to know "Who wanted
him?" The fellow's reply was, such a lord and
such a lord; but he was taken up with the dry
rebuke, "No, no, friend, you are mistaken; the
doctor wants those lords."
"A famous physician (Dr. Radcliffe) ventured
5,000 guineas upon a project in the South Sea.
When he was told at Garraway's that 'twas all lost,
'Why,' says he, "tis but going up 5,000 pair of
stairs more.' This answer deserved a statue."
Steele, in the Tatler, mentions receiving some
French wine as a taster of 216 hogsheads, to be
put up at £20 the hogshead at Garraway's.
Garraway's closed after a joyous existence of
216 years. As a place of sale, exchange, auction,
and lottery, it was never excelled. Here tea was
first sold, and here the South Sea Bubblers met.
"Jonathan's" was another well-known Change
Alley coffee-house of the old times. It is described
in the Tatler as "the general mart for stock-jobbers;" and Addison, in the Spectator, No. 1, says,
"I sometimes pass for a Jew in the assembly of
stock-jobbers at 'Jonathan's.'" Mrs. Centlivre has
laid one of the scenes of her Bold Stroke for a Wife
at "Jonathan's." While the business goes on she
makes the coffee-boys cry, "Fresh coffee, gentlemen! fresh coffee! Bohea tea, gentlemen!"
In Freeman's Court, Cornhill, taken down about
1848 to build larger houses, Defoe carried on the
business of hose-factor in 1702, as we learn from
the following proclamation:—
"St. James's, Jan. 10, 1702–3.
"Whereas Daniel De Foe, alias De Fooe, is charged
with writing a scandalous and seditious pamphlet, entitled
'The Shortest Way with the Dissenters.' He is a middlesized, spare man, about forty years old; of a brown complexion, and dark brown-coloured hair, but wears a wig; a
hooked nose, a sharp chin, grey eyes, and a large mole near
his mouth; was born in London, and for many years was a
hose-factor in Freeman's Yard, in Cornhill, and now is owner
of the brick and pantile works near Tilbury Fort, in Essex.
Whoever shall discover the said Daniel De Foe to one of
Her Majesty's Principal Secretaries of State, or any of Her
Majesty's Justices of Peace, so as he may be apprehended,
shall have a reward of £50, which Her Majesty has ordered
immediately to be paid upon such discovery."
Finch Lane derived its name from Robert Finke,
the worthy citizen who built St. Bennet-Finke, the
church pulled down to enlarge the Exchange.
Birchin Lane is thus described by Stow, the
Herodotus of old London:—"Then have ye
Birchover Lane, so called of Birchover, the first
builder and owner thereof, now corruptly called
Birchin Lane. . . . This lane, and the High Street,
near adjoining, hath been inhabited for the most
part with wealthy drapers; from Birchin Lane, on
that side the street down to the Stocks, in the
reign of Henry VI., had ye for the most part
dwelling fripperers or upholders, that sold old
apparel and household stuffs."
Dekker, in his "Gull's Horn Book," speaks of
the whalebone doublets of Birchin Lane; and
one of Middleton's characters purchases there "a
captain's suit, a valiant buff doublet, stuffed with
points, and a pair of velvet slops scored thick
with lace." In Strype's time Birchin Lane was
still famous for old clothes. Garrick, always a
strategist, kept up his interest in the City, says Sir
John Hawkins, by appearing about twice a winter
at Tom's Coffee House, Birchin Lane, the usual
rendezvous of young merchants at 'Change time.
Poor Chatterton, writing to his sister, May 30, 1770,
with his usual air of feigned success, says, "There
is such a noise of business and politics in the room
(Tom's) that my inaccuracy in writing here is
highly excusable. My present profession obliges
me to frequent places of the best resort."
Some London streets seem determined never to
distinguish themselves. No mediaeval scuffle has
ever occurred in them; no celebrated church hoards
its monuments; no City hall cherishes its relics
there; no celebrated person has honoured it by
birth or death. Gracechurch Street is one of these
unambitious streets. It derived its name, says
Stow, from the grass or herb market there kept in
old time, and which gave its name to the parish
church of St. Bennet.
St. Bennet Gracechurch, described by Stow, was
destroyed in the Great Fire, and another structure,
recently pulled down, erected from Wren's designs
in 1685. It is now united with the parishes of
Allhallows, Lombard Street, and St. Leonard's,
Eastcheap. The register, says Cunningham, records
the following burial:—"1559, April 14, Robert
Burges, a common player," probably from the
theatre in the yard of the "Cross Keys." In
Gracechurch Street, Tarlton, the favourite clown of
Elizabeth's time, a droll, short, flat-nosed fellow,
who sang comic songs to the music of a pipe and
tabor (he was probably the representative of Touchstone, and others of Shakespeare's jesters), lodged
at the sign of the "Saba," probably to be near the
"Cross Keys." He was chosen scavenger by the
ward, and was constantly complained of for not
keeping the streets clean. In the old book called
"Tarlton's Jests," an early "Joe Miller," the following story is told of this street:—

GARRAWAY'S COFFEE-HOUSE. (From a Sketch taken shortly before its Demolition.)
"There was one Banks, in the time of Tarlton,
who served the Earl of Essex, and had a horse of
strange qualities, and being at the 'Crosse Keyes'
in Gracious Streete, getting money with him, as
he was mightily resorted to, Tarlton then, with his
fellowes, playing at the 'Bel' by, came into the
'Crosse Keyes,' amongst many people, to see
fashions, which Banks perceiving, to make the
people laugh, saies, 'Signior,' to his horse, 'go
fetch me the veriest fool in the company.' The
jade comes immediately, and with his mouth draws
Tarlton forth. Tarlton, with merry words, said
nothing but 'God a mercy, horse!' . . . . Ever
after it was a by-word through London, 'God a
mercy, horse!' and is to this day."
Taylor, the water poet, in his little directory,
the "Carriers' Cosmographie" (1637), mentions
the "Tabard, near the Conduit," and the "Spread
Eagle," both in "Gracious Street." In White Hart
Court was a Quakers' meeting-house, and here, in
1690, at the house of Henry Goldney, died that
strange, but honest fanatic, George Fox, the founder
of the sect. Fox was the son of a Leicestershire
weaver, and being "converted" at nineteen, betook
himself to itinerant preaching. He was examined
by Cromwell on one occasion, and kindly treated;
and on the rumour that Oliver was going to make
himself king, Fox went to him and personally remonstrated. Fox preached at this meeting-house
in White Hart Court only a few days before his
death. Penn says of Fox that he had an extraordinary gift in "opening" the Scriptures, and that
above all he excelled in prayer. In Nag's Head
Court died, in 1737, Matthew Green, the hypochondriacal author of "The Spleen." He held
a post in the Custom House, and was nephew to a
clerk of Fishmongers' Hall. His pleasant poem
was posthumous, and was printed by "Leonidas"
Glover. It was approved by Pope and Gray, and
will certainly live, if only for the celebrated line—"Throw but a stone, the giant dies." A happy
image, in singularly small compass.

INTERIOR OF CLOTHWORKERS' HALL.
Fenchurch Street, another thoroughfare scanty in
memories, and therefore still open for future fame,
took its name from the marshy ground on the
banks of the Langbourne. Indeed, even in Stow's
time, the ward was called Langbourne or Fennieabout; yet at that date some crotchety antiquaries
insisted that it was called Fenchurch from fænum,
or hay sold there, as Gracechurch from its grass
and herbs.
In this street, which runs from Gracechurch to
Aldgate, formerly stood Denmark House, the residence, in the reign of Philip and Mary (1557),
of the first Russian ambassador sent to England.
The Russian Company had just started, and our
merchants, eager for barbaric furs, gold, and amber,
treated the Muscovite duke's envoy with prudent
respect. They met him, with their velvet gowns
and gold chains, at Tottenham. At Islington
Lord Montacute, the Queen's pensioner, welcomed
his approach, and at the same place the Lord
Mayor and aldermen, in a blaze of scarlet, came
up, and accompanied him to Master Dimmocks' in
Fenchurch Street.
Of all London saints perhaps St. Dionis or
Dionysius, the Areopagite, is the least honoured;
and yet St. Dionis was the St. Denis of France.
St. Dionis is called Backchurch, as some think, from
there having originally been a church to St. Gabriel
in the centre of the roadway, behind which stood
St. Dionis; but this is doubtful. This church,
mentioned as early as 1288, was rebuilt in the
reign of Henry VI., and again after the Great Fire
under Wren's supervision. The Ionic columns,
carved pulpit, and motley altar-piece need no description. Near the communion-table is an ugly
granite monument to Sir Arthur Ingram, a Spanish
merchant, who gave his name to Ingram Court
in this street, and was a great benefactor to the
church. In the vestry they preserve as interesting
relics four large syringes (such as they now use in
Constantinople), the only machines formerly known
for extinguishing fires. They are rather more than
two feet long, and were fastened by straps to the
body of the firemen. The tower is forty feet high.
At the "King's Head" Tavern, No. 53, Fenchurch Street, the Princess Elizabeth, when released
from the Tower by her harsh sister Mary, is said
to have dined, after attending divine service at
the church of Allhallows Staining, in Mark Lane.
The young lady, always a fair trencherwoman,
exulting in freedom and fresh air, partook freely of
pork and peas. This royal act of condescension
was celebrated till quite recently by an annual
dinner of the chief parishioners. In the coffeeroom they still show, with honest pride, the metal
dish and cover said to have been occupied by the
afore-mentioned peas and pork, and an engraved
portrait of the young princess by Holbein. Another
legend has it that the princess, on quitting Allhallows, gave the clerk a handsome fee, which he
celebrated by an annual dinner given to his chief
patrons.
The Church of St. Margaret Pattens was so called
(says Stow) because pattens were usually made and
sold in this neighbourhood, but more probably, we
think, from the church being specially decorated
(altar or roof) with such "patines of bright gold"
as those to which Shakespeare, in the Merchant
of Venice, compares the stars. The venerable shade
of Stow will forgive us this trifling rebellion to
his dictum. This church is mentioned as early as
1344, was in Whittington's gift, and was rebuilt
after the Great Fire. In 1538, the rood, having
been left in the churchyard to receive oblations,
was destroyed by some too zealous Reformer.
The altar-piece is by Carlo Maratti. The great
antiquary, Dr. Birch, rector of the parish nearly
nineteen years, is buried here. Above the altar
are some finely-carved flowers.
In Fenchurch Street, on the site of Northumberland Alley, stood the first town residence of
the Earls of Northumberland. The gardens were
afterwards converted into bowling-alleys for all
comers.
St. Catherine Coleman, close to where Northumberland House once stood, derived its name from
a large garden belonging to one Coleman (date
uncertain). This church escaped the Great Fire,
and was rebuilt in 1734.
Pepys has the following interesting allusion to
Fenchurch Street, in connection with the Plague.
"June 10, 1665," he says, "to my great trouble,
hear that the Plague is come into the City (though
it hath these three or four weeks since its beginning
been wholly out of the City); but where should it
begin but in my good friend and neighbour's, Dr.
Burnett, in Fenchurch Street; which, in both points,
troubles me mightily.
"June 11.—I saw poor Dr. Burnett's door shut;
but he hath, I hear, gained great good-will among
his neighbours, for he discovered it himself first,
and caused himself to be shut up of his own accord;
which was very handsome."
Out of respect to Fenchurch Street, we may
mention its small tributary, Billiter Street, a name
corrupted from Belzettar, a forgotten builder or
owner. Strype describes the place as consisting
of poor and ordinary houses, formerly inhabited
by needy, beggarly people. The inhabitants were
then brokers and chandlers, residing in very old
and ruinous timber houses. The chief ornament
of it was Billiter Square, which Strype describes as
"a very handsome, open, and airy place, graced
with good new-brick buildings very well inhabited."
Ironmongers' Hall in Fenchurch Street is a building with a history and traditions of its own. The
iron that supplied London in the Middle Ages was
chiefly worked in Sussex, Surrey, and Kent.
The earliest account, says Mr. Herbert, we have
of the Ironmongers as a guild is in the 37th year
of Edward III., when on occasion of the various
mysteries making their offerings to the king for
carrying on his French wars, the Ironmongers subscribed £6 18s. 4d. The same Company, in the
50th of Edward III., sent four of their members to
the Common Council. Near this period, and for a
long time afterwards, the Ironmongers appear to
have united the professions both of merchant and
trader, for, whilst they had large warehouses and
yards, whence they exported and sold bar-iron and
iron rods, they had also shops, wherein they displayed abundance of manufactured articles, which
they purchased from the workmen in town and
country, and of which they afterwards became the
general retailers. Ironmonger Lane was one of
the first spots on which the trade congregated.
Many of the rich Ironmongers were buried in the
church of the adjacent united parishes of St. Olave
Jewry and St. Martin, Ironmonger Lane.
The Ironmongers were incorporated in the 3rd
of Edward IV., their arms having been granted
to them several years before. Their records are
ancient; their first court-book commences in 1541,
but they have documents and records of a still
earlier date. Some of the entries are curious, and
of these we select a few of the most interesting.
In 1562, they provide 19 soldiers for the Queen's
service; 1565, pay £75 towards building the
Royal Exchange; 1566, provide three soldiers for
the Queen's service, Ireland; 1575, they lend the
Queen £60; 1577, supply 100 men as soldiers;
1578, provide seven seamen; 1579, provide 73
men for the defence of the kingdom; 1591, contribute £344 to help send forth ten ships of war
and a pinnace; 1596, lend Government £172;
1630, pay £35 16s., being their proportion of a
fine exacted from the City for not apprehending the
murderers of John Lamb (see Vol. I., page 421);
1642, pay for the service of Parliament £3,400;
1643, pay Parliament £9 10s. every week for four
months, and sell their plate to try to raise £1,700
to help Parliament.
The ancient livery hood was crimson and puce.
In choosing wardens it was usual at the election
dinner to bring in garlands, preceded by minstrels,
and try them on each person, till they arrived at
the stewards-elect. Worthy Mr. Evelyn (September 4, 1671) mentions this ceremony, and describes
how the solemn procession came to the upper table
and drank to the new stewards.
The present Ironmongers' Hall is the third or
fourth building erected on the same site. The
present hall was designed by T. Holden, in 1748.
It was then a handsome stone building, with a
rustic base and Ionic pilasters, balustraded roof,
and carved tympanum. The vestibule was divided
by six Tuscan columns, and the state room was
adorned with Ionic ornaments, an orchestra and
grand buffet. The master and wardens' chairs
stood against the west wall, in front of the king's
arms, while the blue semi-oval ceiling was stuccoed
with heraldic bearings, satyrs' heads, cornucopias,
palm-branches, flowers, and scrolls. The banqueting-hall has since been decorated in the Louis
Quatorze taste, in papier-mache and carton-picrre
imitative oak aided by oak carvings. The hall
contains portraits of Mr. Thomas Betton (a Turkey
merchant, who left £26,000), Sir Robert Geffery
(giver of the Company's almshouses in the Kingsland Road), Sir James Cambell, and other benefactors, and a fine full-length of Lord Hood, by
Gainsborough, given by that admiral to the Company, in 1783, when his lordship was received
into the Company without fee or previous nomination. The Ironmongers' arms are argent, on a
chevron gules, three swivels or between three steel
gads azure; crest on a wreath, two scaly lizards,
erect, combatant proper (i.e., vert); motto, "God
is our strength." The lizards should properly be
salamanders, but the Ironmongers insist on the
lizards, and even named their Irish estate after
them.
Mincing Lane was so called from houses there
belonging to the "Minchuns," or nuns, of St.
Helen's, Bishopsgate Street. Of old time (says
Stow) there dwelt in this lane Genoese traders
called "galleymen," because they brought their,
wines and other merchandise to Galley Wharf, in
Thames Street. They used amongst themselves
small silver halfpence called, in London, "galley
halfpence," forbidden by Act of Parliament in the
reigns of Henry IV. and Henry VI. These coins
were broader than English halfpence, but not so
thick and strong.
Mincing Lane is specially mentioned by Pepys,
ápropos of the Great Fire:—"19th June, 1668," he
says, "between two and three in the morning we
were waked with the maids crying out, 'Fire, fire,
in Marke Lane!' So I rose and looked out, and
it was dreadful, and strange apprehensions in me
and us all of being presently burnt. So we all rose,
and my care presently was to secure my gold and
plate and papers, and could quickly have done it,
but I went forth to see where it was; and the
whole town was presently in the streets; and I
found it in a new-built house that stood alone in
Minchin Lane, over against the Clothworkers' Hall,
which burned furiously; the house not yet quite
finished; and the benefit of brick was well seen,
for it burnt all inward, and fell down within itself;
so no fear of doing more hurt."
The original Clothworkers' Hall, in Mincing
Lane, was purchased by the Fullers, in the year 1455
(Henry VI.), ever to remain in their fellowship.
The spot is remarkable as the boundary of the
Great Fire of London, which partly destroyed the
hall. Pepys speaks of the building as being "in
one body of flame for three days and nights, the
cellars being full of oil."
The Clothworkers, says Herbert, seem to have
sprung, like the Fullers, from the very ancient
guild of Weavers. The trade had formerly several
subdivisions, of which the Fullers, the Burrellers,
and the Testers were the chief. The Burrellers were
inspectors and measurers of cloth. In the reign
of Edward IV. the Shearmen were separated from
the Drapers and Tailors, and were incorporated.
Henry VII. granted them additional privileges,
and Henry VIII. united them with the Fullers,
and gave the joint fraternity the name of Clothworkers. There were endless disputes between
the Clothworkers and Dyers for precedence, till at
last the Clothworkers settled down as twelfth and
last of the great companies, and the Dyers took
rank as first of the minor ones. Shearmen, the old
title of the Clothworkers, had no reference to removing the wool from the sheep, but applied to the
manner of clipping the nap in the process of cloth
manufacture. The Clothworkers are especially
mentioned in a statute concerning the woollen
manufacture, in the reign of Edward VI., which
contained clauses requiring the clothiers' seal on
cloth, and forbidding over-stretching, and adding
chalk, or flour, or starch, and the use of iron cards.
Queen Elizabeth confirmed the right of the Clothworkers, and Charles I. (who, as well as his father,
was a member of the fraternity) confirmed their
charter. There were five degrees in the Company—apprentices, freemen (also called yeomen
and bachelors), householders, the fellowship, and
wardens. The government consisted of a court
of assistants, including only those who had been
masters and wardens.
Pepys himself was a member of this Company,
and left it a quaint and valuable old cup, which
still shines out among the meaner plate, on the
occasion of grand dinners, "when beards wag all."
The hall, after the Great Fire, seems to have been
restored with green wood, which soon fell into
decay. It must have been a fine building, for
the banqueting-hall was a lofty wainscoted room,
adorned with a great oak screen, with figures of
James I. and Charles I., and two stained-glass
windows. These windows contained, among other
devices, the arms of Pepys and Sir John Robinson.
The latter worthy was Lieutenant of the Tower, President of the Artillery Company, and Lord Mayor
in 1663, when he entertained, in Clothworkers' Hall,
Charles II. and his Queen, the Queen-Dowager,
and the Duke and Duchess of York. Mr. Samuel
Angell was the architect of the new hall, which
occupies the old position in Mincing Lane. It was
completed in 1860, and is now, with its fine oak
carving and splendid mirrors, a good specimen of
a Company's Hall—the ceiling, in white and gold,
being ornamented in a rather unusual, but most
tasteful manner, with life-size figures in relief. At
one end of the hall stand the statues of James I.
and Charles I., very dazzling in their covering of
pure gilding. The ground on which the hall is
built has been enlarged by the addition of a very
large piece of land purchased by the Company
quite recently. This is the site of the old church
and graveyard of Allhallows Staining. The body
of the church itself has been pulled down, and its
place is occupied by houses built and let on lease
to tenants. The churchyard is to remain as an
open space, and will still admit air and light to
the hall. But the old tower still remains; the
Company, by arrangement with the Ecclesiastical
Commissioners, being bound not only not to demolish it, but to keep it in repair. Anything more
absurd than this restriction cannot be imagined.
The crumbling old tower is not by any means
ornamental, and it can serve no purpose on earth
except that of obstructing and incommoding the
property of the Company. The real estates held
by this Company are very large, and comprise a
great deal of valuable house property in London.
The Irish estates were let as far back as 1769 for
£600 per annum, and a fine of £28,000. They
have, however, been sold since the last rebuilding
of the hall. The Company have schools at Sutton
Valence, in Kent, and in the Isle of Man, and
almshouses at Sutton Valence, in Islington, and
other places. The charities were estimated in
1836 at about £1,400 per annum, but they are
now vastly increased. This Company has numbered many royal personages among its members,
and among them the Prince of Wales and the
Duke of Cambridge. Prince Albert was also a
member, and the Company have a large picture of
his late Royal Highness, with a sister painting of
Her Majesty, executed by Herrick in 1863. In
proof of the honour in which the Clothworkers
were held two centuries ago, we may quote the
words of the panegyrist, Elkanah Settle:—"The
grandeur of England is to be attributed to its
golden fleece (which is the crest of this Company),
the wealth of the loom making England a second
Peru, and the back of the sheep, and not the
entrails of the earth, being its chief mine of riches.
The silkworm is no spinster of ours, and our wheel
and web are wholly the Clothworkers'. Thus, as
trade is the soul of the kingdom, so the greatest
branch of it lies in the Clothworkers' hands; and
though our naval commerce brings us in both the
or and the argent, and indeed the whole wealth of
the world, yet, when thoroughly examined, it will
be found 'tis your cloth sends out to fetch them.
And thus, whilst the Imperial Britannia is so formidable to her foes and so potent to her friends,
. . . to the Clothworkers' honour it may justly be
said, "Tis your shuttle nerves her arm, and your
woof that enrobes her glory.' "
Howes relates that "James I., being in the open
Hall, inquired who was master of the Company;
and the Lord Mayor answering, 'Sir William
Stone,' to whom the king said, " Wilt thou make me
free of the Clothworkers?' ' Yea,' quoth the master,
'and think myself a happy man that I live to see
this day.' Then the king said, 'Stone, give me
thy hand; and now I am a Clothworker.'"
The Clothworkers' arms, granted in the reign of
Henry VIII., are sable, a chevron ermine between
two habricks, in chief argent, and a thistle in base,
or; crest, a ram passant, or; supporters, two griffins,
or; pellette. Motto—" My trust is in God alone."
At the north-east corner of Mark Lane, says
Stow, was the manor of a knight of Richard II.,
called by the pretty name of Blanch Appleton,
afterwards corrupted into Blind Chapel Court. In
the reign of Edward IV. basket-makers and wiredrawers were allowed to practise their trade in
Blanch Appleton. Mark Lane was originally called
Mart Lane, from some fair of uncertain date there
established.
The Church of Allhallows, standing in Mark
Lane, recently pulled down by the Clothworkers'
Company to enlarge their hall, was given, in 1367,
by the Bishop of London to the Abbey and Convent
of our Lady of Grace, near the Tower of London.
The right of presentation eventually came into the
possession of the Grocers' Company. According
to Stow, the church was called Stane or Stayning,
to distinguish it at an early period when many
London churches were erected of timber. The
churchwardens' books of Allhallows are perfect
from as far back as 1491, and abound with some
interesting facts as to prices and manners and
customs. In 1492 the great beam light of the
church is mentioned as weighing more than 40
pounds, and cost 1d. the pound. In 1587 there
is a shilling paid to the ringers for expressing joy
at the execution of Mary Queen of Scots. In
1606 a shilling is paid for painting three red
crosses on the doors of houses infected with the
plague. In the Great Plague of 1665, 165 persons
died in the parish, and that year £3 17s. 6d. is
paid for street fires to purify the air. In 1688,
the ringers are paid for expressing joy at King
James's return from Faversham, and two days after
for more joy at the Prince of Orange's arrival, for
the purpose of dethroning James! The church
escaped the Great Fire, but, as if tired of standing,
fell down suddenly in 1671, nearly burying a sexton
who was digging a grave. The tower contains six
bells, the greater number of which are dated
1682–3. Two of them, however, are much older,
Malcolm says the date upon one is 1485.
The Corn Exchange in Mark Lane was projected
and opened in 1747. A new Exchange was rebuilt by Mr. G. Smith in 1827, and opened the next
year. It is now again proposed to rebuild it. On
building thé second Corn Exchange a fine Roman
pavement was discovered. The old Exchange,
still standing in Mark Lane, has an open colonnade
with modern Doric pillars. The factors have
stands in the interior court, which has been compared to the atrium, or place of audience, of a
Pompeian house. The New Corn Exchange is
in the Grecian and Doric style. The interior
is lighted by a lantern with vertical lights in
the centre space within the columns, and the
compartments on each side have skylights in their
ceilings. The stands of the corn-factors, to the
number of eighty and upwards, are along the
sides of the building-. On them are placed small
bags and wooden bowls, with samples of different
kinds of grain, and behind is a desk for the factor
or his clerk, with something of the convenience
of a counting-house. Lightermen and granarykeepers have stands as well as corn-merchants,
factors, and millers. The seed-market is held in
another part of the building. In the north wing is
a tavern and coffee-room, and an opening in the
south side of the wing communicates with the old
Corn Exchange.
As some London corn merchants were said, as
far back as thirty years ago, to turn over in a
year nearly a million and a half of money, it
may be supposed that Mark Lane is a strictly
busy place, and that the factors there do not
scoop up handfuls of corn or toss wheat up
in the air for mere amusement. In two months
alone in 1841 there arrived in London 787 vessels
from foreign ports, laden with foreign corn, a fact
which proves the ceaseless cry for bread of hungry
England, unable to fully supply its own wants, and
dependent on the energy of the Mark Lane dealers.
In the Middle Ages, London, a mere bantling
then, with no great appetite, depended in simple
faith for corn on Kent and Essex alone. In Stow's
time Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex, Kent, and Sussex
were the chief competitors in the London corn
trade. Speculators in corn were looked upon in
old times with suspicion, and even detestation;
while regraters, or holders back of corn, were
formerly branded as ruthless enemies of the human
race. In 1542 corn dealers were prohibited having
more than ten quarters in their possession at one
time, and justices could examine a farmer's barns
and sell the superfluous stock. Heavy penalties
were inflicted two years afterwards on persons who
bought corn to sell again. Farmers buying corn
for seed were required to sell an equal quantity of
store corn; while corn dealers were required to
take out an annual licence, and not to engross or
forestall, or buy out of open market, except under
an express permission.

PLAN SHOWING THE EXTENT OF THE GREAT FIRE IN CORNHILL IN 1748. (See page 172.)
Dearths frequently occurring in the Middle
Ages, the livery companies were required to keep
stores of corn, as we have already mentioned in
previous chapters. Sir Stephen Brown is the first
Lord Mayor praised by Stow for sending to
Dantzic for cheap corn in time of scarcity, and Sir
Simon Eyre, another Lord Mayor, established a
public granary, such as Joseph did in Egypt, at
Leadenhall. In 1521 a mayor found the City
granaries nearly empty, and had to lay in a provision of wheat. In 1546 two aldermen were appointed weekly in rotation to see that the markets
were well supplied. When prices rose the companies were compelled to send in for sale certain
specified quantities of corn, and then to provide
a fresh stock. In 1590, they were called on,
at two different periods, to purchase 18,000
quarters. The Bridgemaster had the charge of
buying the corn, which was at one period entirely
stored in the Bridge House. The money to purchase
the grain for the City granaries was raised by loans
and contributions from the mayor and aldermen, the
City companies, and sometimes from the citizens.
The companies often grumbled, clamoured for a
return of their money, and were sometimes paid in
store corn, which they by no means wanted. In
1596 the companies built their own granaries, and
were allowed to keep their supply there. The
difficulty with the companies grew worse and worse,
and the refusals to buy corn became more frequent,
till at last the Great Fire, that fierce reformer of
many abuses, swept away the Bridge House and
all the other granaries, and thus at last the custom
of laying up corn and interfering with the natural
balance of trade ceased altogether.
The German Steel Yard merchants were at one
period the sole importers of foreign corn, and in
times of scarcity were not allowed to sell either to
bakers or brewers without the City's licence.

THE OLD INDIA OFFICE, LEADENHALL STREET, IN 1803.
In one special year bakers were forbidden to buy
any meal, except at the City's store, the Bridge
House, where the quantity each might take, and
the price, were fixed by the Lord Mayor. Such
were the fetters in which trade had to move in the
time of Queen Elizabeth, when so many feudal
restrictions were still in existence. As an instance
of the power of the City in the reign of her successor, it has been mentioned that in 1622 the
Court tried to borrow thirty or forty quarters of
wheat, and the City would only lend ten.
The ancient corn-ports of London were, as we
have shown, Queenhithe and Billingsgate. The chief
corn-warehouse was at Queenhithe. There was a
principal meter there, and eight master porters,
each of whom had three men under him. The
chief corn-markets of London were Cornhill and
Michael-le-Quern, at the west end of Cheapside.
Bread Street was the mediæval bakers' market. The
Fellowship of Bakers held four hall-motes during
the year, to punish offences of their craft. In 1370
a Stratford baker, for selling loaves smaller than
the assize, was drawn on a hurdle through London
streets with a fool's cap on his head, while round
his neck dangled his meagre loaves.
The old assize of bread compelled bakers to
regulate the size of thier loaves by the price of
corn. The assize was regulated in Queen Anne's
reign, and not finally abolished till 1815. The
Bakers' Company used formerly to present two newbaked loaves to the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, to
be fairly weighed. They were made out of wheaten
corn, purchased by four "sworn and discreet men"
at the markets of Grasschurch, St. Botolph, Bishopsgate, and Queenhithe. London bakers were formerly, except at Christmas, forbidden to sell household loaves at a higher price than twopence, or to
sell by retail spice-cakes, buns, or biscuits, except
for funerals, and at the festivals of Christmas and
Easter.
The London corn-mills were latterly chiefly at
London Bridge. Besides Leadenhall and the
Bridge House there were granaries at one time at
Bridewell and Christchurch. At the beginning of
the last century the metropolitan corn-market was
held at Bear Quay, in Thames Street. Queenhithe
was at the same period the great market for flour
and meal, and the "White Horse" Inn mealmarket, situated near Holborn Bridge, was much
frequented.
The system of factorage is only about 180 years
old. Tradition has it that it began with a number
of Essex farmers, who used to leave samples of
corn with the landlord of an inn at Whitechapel
where they put up, and to whom they paid commission, to save the trouble of attending the
market every week. The ancestors of one of the
oldest commission-houses began with a stand on
Tower Hill.
"Such great events from little causes spring."
Kentish, Essex, and Suffolk corn arrives in
sacks; foreign and Irish corn, and English oats
and barley in loose bulk. The Kentish hoys
sometimes bring joint-stock cargoes. The operation of unloading and measuring was, under the
old system, very skilfully managed. Two fellowship porters all but filled the bushel with wooden
shovels, the meter completed the bushel, and one
of the men passed the strike over the surface. The
sack was then filled and shot into the lighter. At
purchase the grain was again measured.
By a recent Act of Parliament the City's rights of
measuring corn, worth as much as £13,000 a year,
were done away with. Corn is now sold by weight,
the only charge being three-sixteenths of a penny
per hundredweight, to pay for the ex-sworn meters,
as compensation to the City, this charge to continue for thirty years.
The London terms of the factors are one
month's open credit, and the buyer has to lodge
any objection as to quality, bulk, &c., at the factor's
stand before eleven o'clock on the following market
day, or else has to abide by his bargain. The
centre of the market is devoted, at the entrance
end, to shipbrokers of all classes, and also to
masters of small craft, and lightermen; in the
middle assemble the great Greek merchants, who
almost monopolise the importation of corn from
every part of the world; they here give directions
to factors who are selling their arrived cargoes,
and to agents who are negotiating with country
merchants and factors from all parts of the kingdom, either personally or by telegraph, for the
sale of cargoes shipping at foreign ports, or
on passage, or arrived on the coast at Plymouth
or Queenstown. There are sometimes as many as
100 cargoes at ports of call, the size of each one
being from 4,000 to 5,000 quarters up to 8,000
quarters, and sometimes as much as 13,000
quarters, waiting for a destination, which is notified
to them by telegraph as soon as a contract is made.
Not only is the United Kingdom supplied in this
way, but also any part of the Continent where corn
may be required.
The upper part of the market is the place of
assembling for oil seed-crushers, and here the
Greeks again are the great importers of all kinds
of oil-seeds.
A strict and punctual system governs all the proceedings of the establishment. The market opens
at eleven o'clock by ring of bell, and factors never
name a price for goods till then. At two o'clock
a notice bell is rung, and at half-past two the final
bell, when the doors of the market are closed until
three, when the sweepers begin to clear up the
spilt samples, which bring in a good revenue to
the company.
The next market adjoining, and in communication with the old Exchange, is the "London Corn
Exchange," which is commonly called the New
Corn Market, to distinguish it from the other.
The exterior is much more imposing than the old
market, which is very simple. Originally some
dealers clubbed together and acquired some property opposite the old Exchange, and in opposition
to it, and set up a few small stands, but they subsequently formed a company, and acquired the
present site. This may be called the retail market,
as the standholders are principally dealers, who
sell corn lying in their own river-side warehouses
to shopkeepers, livery-stables, &c., and they buy,
generally from factors on the old market, the grain
ex-ship. Some of these dealers are also factors in
the old market. Here also the malt-factors and
maltsters attend, as the Greeks do in the other
market; and also a great many country dealers,
who sell home-grown barley. The stands are
arranged round the interior, and smaller stands fill
up the centre opening.
A staircase at the entrance of the old Exchange,
and the property of the same company, leads to
"Jack's Coffee House," the assembly for London
and country millers, who examine their purchases,
&c., after the market is over. The room is crammed
between three and four o'clock. At the rear of the
old Exchange is a handsome building, which was
erected in 1860; the upper storeys are divided into
offices, and the ground-floor forms a large subscription-room.
Granaries are numerous about Bermondsey and
Shad Thames, but they abound on both sides of
the river, from Greenwich to Vauxhall. The foreign
corn is stored in bonded granaries near the Commercial Docks. In the times of the high duties
corn-merchants have been known to throw 2,000
quarters of wheat into the river at one time rather
than pay the high tax, or keep it subject to long
granary rent.
The supply of foreign corn to this country has
undergone many changes from time to time; formerly our supplies were chiefly from the Baltic
and South Russian ports, but now the United
States is the chief contributor, and we also get
wheat from Australia, California, the Cape, and
New Zealand.
The cultivation of grain has undergone a marvellous change since 1830, the English farmer
preferring cattle-rearing to corn-growing: thus in
1830 the supply of foreign corn to the port of
London, as measured by the sworn meters, was
1,132,580 quarters, and of English 3,154,270
quarters; whereas, in the year 1871 the quantities
were, foreign, 2,471,394 quarters; English, 662,567
quarters. The total of foreign grain and flour imported into London during 1871 was 20,400,905
cwts., according to Custom House Returns.
No. 33, Mark Lane, opposite the Corn Exchange, is a large and very ancient house, with fine
oak carving over the gateway, and inside. Horses
used to be lodged inside the gateway, and there
are still the wooden pegs used for hanging up
saddles and harness. This house must have been
the residence of a great City grandee.