CHAPTER XXXI.
ISLINGTON.
Etymology of the Word "Islington"—Beauty of the Place in Early Times—The old Northern Roads—Archery at Islington—A Royal Patron of
Archery—The Archers' Marks—The "Robin Hood"—Topham, the Strong Man—Llewellyn and the Welsh Barons—Algernon Percy's
House—Reformers' Meeting at the "Saracen's Head"—Queen Elizabeth and the Islington Beggars—Later Royal Visitors to IslingtonCitizens' Pleasure Parties—Cream and Cake—Outbreak of the Plague—Bunbury and the "New Paradise"—The old "Queen's Head"—
"The London Hospital"—Sir Walter Raleigh's House—The old " Pied Bull"—The "Angel."
No satisfactory etymology of the word "Islington"
has yet been given. By some writers the name
is supposed to have been derived from the Saxon
word isen (iron), from certain springs, impregnated with iron, supposed to have their rise in
the neighbourhood. Others trace it to the Saxon
word eisel (a hostage), without ever condescending to explain what hostages had to do with
Islington. The more favoured supposition is that
the village was originally called "Ishel," an old
British word signifying "lower," and "dun," or
"don," the usual term for a town or fortress. It
might have been so called, Mr. Lewis thinks, to
contrast it with Tolentone, a village built on the
elevated ground adjoining the woods of Highbury.
The germ of the Islington of the Britons, it is
generally allowed, must have been along the east
side of the Lower Street.
Islington is supposed to have been situated on
the great northern Roman road called the Ermin,
or Herman Street, which left London by Cripplegate, and passed through Islington, though, as
some antiquaries think, the Roman road really intersected Old Street, and, crossing the City Road,
passed by Highbury and Hornsey Wood, and continued by way of the green lanes towards Enfield.
Fitzstephen, the friend of Becket, writing between 1170 and 1182, speaking of the north of
London, says, "On the north are fields for pastures, and open meadows, very pleasant, into which
the river waters do flow, and mills are turned about
with a delightful noise. The arable lands are no
hungry pieces of gravel ground, but like the rich
fields of Asia, which bring plentiful corn, and fill
the barns of the owners with a dainty crop of the
fruits of Ceres." Still "beyond them an immense
forest extends itself, beautified with woods and
groves, and full of the lairs and coverts of beasts
and game, stags, bucks, boars, and wild bulls." In
later centuries Islington became the pasture-ground
of London.
The old highways and roads connected with
Islington were very badly kept, and extremely incommodious. Formerly the avenues leading to the
village from the metropolis, exclusive of the footpaths over the fields, were confined to the road
from Smithfield, through St. John Street; the Goswell Street road, from Aldersgate; and a bridle
way that had once been an old Roman road: all
these were frequently impassable in winter. The
broad green fields that stretched from Finsbury to
Hoxton and Islington seem to have been recognised as the Campus Martius of London as early
as the reign of Henry II., for Fitzstephen describes,
with more unction than an ascetic monk might
be expected to manifest, the scholars of the City
going to the northern fields with their teachers,
to play at ball, while the old and wealthy citizens
came on horseback to watch the merry conflict of
the lads. He also mentions the military exercises
on horseback, good training for war or the tournament, every Friday in Lent; while other citizens,
more intent on their own amusement, he says,
carried their hawks on their fists, or took out their
dogs there, to have a turn or two after a hare.
Archery was early practised in these pleasant
northern fields, and here men shot the shafts that
were hereafter to be aimed at Frenchmen's hearts.
As early as the reign of Edward III. the royal will
was proclaimed that every able-bodied citizen was,
in his leisure hours and on all holidays, to practise
with bows or crossbows, and not to waste his time
in throwing stones, or at football, handball, bandy,
or cock-fighting, which were vain and profitless
plays; while in the reign of Richard II. an Act
was passed to oblige all men-servants to exercise
themselves with bows and arrows at all times of
leisure, and on all Sundays and holidays.
In the reign of Henry VIII., that manly and warlike king, who was himself an archer, several Acts
were passed to promote the practice of archery.
Every father was enjoined to provide a bow and
two arrows for his son, when he reached his seventh
year; and all persons, except the clergy and judges,
were obliged to shoot periodically at the butts,
which were nowhere more numerous than in the
fields towards Islington. Three gentlemen of the
Court were constituted overseers of the science of
artillery—to wit, of longbows, crossbows, and handguns—and leave was given them, as a body corporate, to practice shooting at all manner of marks
and butts, and at fowls, and the game of the
popinjay in the City and suburbs, and all other
places. And when any member of this society,
shooting at well-known and accustomed marks,
and used the usual caution-word of archers, "Fast,"
they could not be impeached or troubled by the
relations of any passer-by slain at misadventure. It
was in these fields the king's favourite archer, Barlow,
christened by him "the Duke of Shoreditch," and
the Marquis of Islington and the Earl of Pancras,
his skilful companions, made their cleverest hits, and
in Hoxton Fields took place that great procession
of the Duke of Shoreditch and his 3,000 archers
and 200 torch-bearers. In the reign of Henry VIII.,
says the chronicler Hall, the young men of London,
finding the fields about Islington, Hoxton, and
Shoreditch getting more and more enclosed with
hedges and ditches, and that neither the old men
could walk for their pleasure, nor lads shoot without
getting their bows and arrows taken away or broken,
a riot arose. One morning a turner, dressed as a
jester, led a mob through the City shouting "Shovels
and spades! shovels and spades!" So many of the
people followed, that it was a wonder to behold;
and within a short space all the hedges about the
City were cast down and the ditches filled up. The
rioters then quietly dispersed. "After which," Hall
says, with gusto, "those fields were never hedged."

THE OLD "FOUNTAIN," IN THE MINORIES. (From a view by n. Smith, 1798.)
In the reign of Elizabeth archery seems to have
been on the decline, though good old Stow describes
the citizens as still frequenting the northern fields,
"to walk, shoot, and otherwise recreate and refresh
their dulled spirits in the sweet and wholesome air,"
and mentions that of old it was the custom for the
officers of the City—namely, the sheriffs, the porters
of the Weigh House, and all others—to be challengers of all men in the suburbs to wrestle, "shoot
the standard, broad arrow and flight," for games,
at Clerkenwell and in Finsbury Fields. In 1570,
however, we find the London bowyers, fletchers,
stringers, and arrow-head makers petitioning the
Lord Treasurer concerning their decayed condition, by reason of the discontinuance of archery,
and the practice of unlawful games; and from
Stow we gather that the increased enclosures had
driven the archers into bowling-alleys and gamblinghouses.

THE OLD "QUEEN'S HEAD" TAVERN.
James I., in 1605, finding archery still on the
decline, though many of his best soldiers preferred
bows to guns, still issued letters patent to several distinguished persons, and among them to Sir Thomas
Fowler, of Islington, to survey all the open grounds
within two miles of the City, and to see that they
were put in proper order for the exercise of the
City, as in the reign of Henry VIII. Charles I.
published a similar edict, ordering all mounds to be
lowered that obstructed the archers' view from one
mark to another. There were indeed at this time,
or a little later, no less than 160 marks set up in
the Finsbury Fields, each duly registered by name.
These marks, placed at varying distances, to
accustom the archers to judge the distance, are
all named in a curious old tract, entitled "Ayme
for Finsbury Archers," published at the "Swan" in
Grub Street, in 1594, and several times reprinted.
Among them we find the following quaint titles,
suggestive of old nicknames, lucky shots, and bowmen's jokes:—Sir Rowland, Lurching, Nelson,
Martin's Mayflower, Dunstan's Darling, Beswick's
Stake, Lambert's Goodwill, Lee's Leopard, Thief
in the Hedge, Mildmay's Rose, Silkworm, Lee's
Lion. Goodly shots, no doubt, these marks had
recorded, and pleasant halts they had been for the
Finsbury bowmen of old time.
The dainty archers of the present day can
scarcely believe the strength of the old yew bows,
or the length of the arrows, and are apt to be
incredulous of the pith of their ancestors' shafts.
Nevertheless, the statute of the thirty-third year of
Henry VIII. distinctly lays down that men of the
age of twenty-four were prohibited from shooting at
any mark under two hundred and twenty yards;
and the longest distance of that stalwart epoch
seems to have been nineteen score, or three
hundred and eighty yards.
During the Cromwell time archery seems to
have been deemed unpractical, and was not much
enforced. The old ways, however, revived with
Charles II., and in 1682 there was a great cavalcade
to the Finsbury Fields, at which the king himself
was present, and the old titles of the Duke of Shoreditch and Marquis of Islington were bestowed on
the best shots. On a Finsbury archer's ticket for
the shooting of 1676, all lovers of archery are invited to meet at Drapers' Hall, in Throgmorton
Street; and it is noted that the eleven score
targets would be set up in the new Artillery Ground.
It was in this year that the great archer, "Sir"
William Wood, was presented with a silver badge.
This stout bowman was eventually buried in Clerkenwell Church, with archers' honours. Sir William
Davenant, in his playful poem of "The Long
Vacation in London," describes the attorneys shooting against the proctors, and thus sketches the
citizen archer of those days—
"Each with solemn oath agree
To meet in fields of Finsburie;
With loynes in canvas bow-case tyde,
Where arrows stick with mickle pride;
With hats pin'd up, and bow in hand,
All day most fiercely there they stand,
Like ghosts of Adam Bell and Clymme,
Sol sets, for fear they'll shoot at him."
Up to the last edition of the Map of Archers'
Marks in 1738, the fields from Peerless Pool to
northward of the "Rosemary Branch" are studded
with "roving" marks, generally wooden pillars,
crowned by some emblem, such as a bird or a circle.
The last great meeting of Islington archers was
in 1791, at Blackheath, when the archers' company of the Honourable Artillery Company contended with the Surrey and Kentish bowmen, the
Hainault Foresters, the Woodmen of Arden, the
Robin Hood Society, &c. Several times in the last
century the Artillery Company asserted their old
archer privileges, and replaced the marks which
had been removed by encroachers. In 1782 they
forced the gate of a large field in which stood one
of their stone marks, close to Balls Pond; and
in 1786 they ordered obstructions to be removed
between Peerless Pool, south, Baume's Pond, north,
Hoxton, east, and Islington, west. In the same
year they threatened to pull down part of a wall
erected by the proprietors of a white-lead mill,
between the marks of Bob Peak and the Levant.
One of the partners of the works, however, induced
them to desist; but a member of the archers' division
shot an arrow over the enclosure, to assert the
Company's right. In 1791, when the long butts at
Islington Common were destroyed by gravel-diggers,
the Artillery Company also required the marks to
be replaced. In 1842, of all the old open ground
there only remained a few acres to the north of the
City Road.
An old public-house fronting the fields at Hoxton,
and called the "Robin Hood," was still existing in
Nelson's time(1811). It had been a great place
of resort for the Finsbury archers, and under the
sign was the following inscription:—
"Ye archers bold and yeomen good,
Stop and drink with Robin Hood;
If Robin Hood is not at home,
Stop and drink with Little John."
There is a traditional story that Topham, the
strong man of Islington, was once challenged by
some Finsbury archers whom he had ridiculed to
draw an arrow two-thirds of its length. The bet
was a bowl of punch; but Topham, though he
drew the shaft towards his breast, instead of his
ear, after many fruitless efforts, lost the wager.
The historical recollections of Islington are not
numerous. One of the earliest is connected with
the visit of Llewellyn and his Welsh barons, who
in the reign of Edward I. came to London to
pay homage to the king. They were quartered at
Islington, but they disliked our wine, ale, and
bread, and could not obtain milk enough. Moreover, their Welsh pride was disgusted at being so
stared at by the Londoners, on account of their
uncommon dress. "We will never visit Islington
again except as conquerors," they cried, and from
that instant resolved to take up arms. In 1465,
Henry VI., who had been captured in Lancashire,
was brought to London with his legs bound
to his horse's stirrups. At Islington he was met
by his great enemy, the Earl of Warwick, who removed his gilt spurs contemptuously, and hurried
him to the Tower. Edward IV., on the occasion
of his accession to the throne, was welcomed between Islington and Shoreditch by the Lord Mayor
and aldermen of London, some of whom he
knighted. In the same manner the crafty King
Henry VII., on his return from the overthrow of
Lambert Simnel, was met in Hornsey Park by the
mayor, aldermen, sheriffs, and principal commoners,
all on horseback in one livery, when he dubbed
the mayor, Sir William Horn, knight, and between
Islington and London knighted Alderman Sir John
Percivall.
Henry VIII. frequently visited Islington, to call
on noblemen of his court, for Dudley, Earl of Warwick, held the manor of Stoke Newington; and
Algernon Percy, Earl of Northumberland, occupied
a mansion on Newington Green. From this house
we find the earl writing in an alarmed way to
Secretary Cromwell, vowing that he had never proposed marriage to Anne Boleyn. The earl, who died
the year after, is supposed to have left the house in
which he lived, and one on the south side of Newington Green, to the king, who resided for some time in
the first, and employed the other for the use of his
household. From this country palace of Henry VIII.
a pathway leading from the corner of Newington
Green, to the turnpike road at Ball's Pond, became
known as "King Harry's Walk." Game was plentiful
about Islington, and by a proclamation dated 1546
the king prohibited all hunting and hawking of
hares, partridges, pheasants, and heron, from "Westminster to St. Giles-in-the-Fields, and from thence
to Islington, to Our Lady of the Oak, to Highgate,
to Hornsey Park, and to Hampstead Heath."
In 1557, during Queen Mary's hunting down of
Protestants, a small congregation of Reformers, who
had assembled at the "Saracen's Head," Islington,
under pretext of attending a play, were betrayed
by a treacherous tailor, arrested by the Queen's
vice-chamberlain, and thrown into prison. The
most eminent of these persecuted men was John
Rough, who had been a preacher among the Black
Friars at Stirling, chaplain to the Earl of Arran, and
the means of persuading John Knox to enter the
ministry. He was burnt at the stake at Smithfield,
and four of the others perished praising God in
one fire at Islington. But there is the old saying,
"The blood of martyrs is the seed of the Church."
Only the next year forty "godly and innocent persons," who had assembled in "a back close in the
field by the town of Islington" to pray and meditate, were apprehended by the constables, bowmen,
and billmen. All but twenty-seven escaped, and
of these twenty-two lay in Newgate seven weeks
before they were examined, though offered pardon
if they would consent to hear a mass. "Eventually,"
says Foxe, in his "Acts and Monuments," "seven
were burnt in Smithfield and six at Brentford."
Queen Elizabeth seems to have been partial to
Islington, paying frequent visits to Sir Thomas
Fowler and to Sir John Spencer of Canonbury
House. In 1561 she made a grand tour of the
east of London which took several days. From
the Tower she first visited Houndsditch and Spitalfields, thence went through the fields to Charterhouse, and in a few days continued her route back
to the Savoy and thence to Enfield. On her return
to St. James's as she passed through Islington,
hedges were cut down and ditches filled up to
quicken her progress across the fields.
In 1581, the queen, riding by Aldersgate Bars
towards the Islington Fields to take the air, was
environed by a crowd of sturdy beggars, which gave
the queen much disturbance. That same evening
Fleetwood, the Recorder, had the fields scoured, and
apprehended seventy-four rogues, some blind, "yet
great usurers, and very rich." The strongest of the
seventy-four "they bestowed in the milne and the
lighters."
In the great entertainment given at Kenilworth
by the Earl of Leicester to Queen Elizabeth in 1575,
a minstrel discoursed with tiresome minuteness on
the Islington dairies, that supplied London bridal
parties with furmenty, not over-sodden, for porridge,
unchalked milk for "flawnery," unadulterated cream
for custards, and pure fresh butter for pasties. The
arms of Islington, it was proposed, should be three
milk tankards proper on a field of clouted cream,
three green cheeses upon a shelf of cake bread,
a furmenty bowl, stuck with horn spoons, and, for
supporters, a grey mare (used to carry the milk
tankards) and her silly foal; the motto, "Lac
caseus infans," or "Fresh cheese and cream," the
milkwives cry in London streets.
The ill-starred Earl of Essex, on his way to Ireland, where he was to sweep away rebellion by a
wave of his hand, passed through Islington with
his gay and hopeful train of noblemen and gentlemen, returning only to become himself a rebel, and
to end his days on the Tower Hill block.
In 1603, when James I., with all his hungry
Scotch courtiers, rode into London, he was met
at Stamford Hill by the Lord Mayor, aldermen,
and 500 of the principal citizens, who escorted
him through the Islington Fields to the Charterhouse. He passed along the Upper Street, which
was for a short time after known as King Street.
Charles I., on his return from Scotland in 1641,
passed through Islington, accompanied by his
queen, the Prince of Wales, and the Duke of
York. In the following year the Committee of the
London Militia gave orders to fortify the approaches
to the City, and in 1643 the entrenchment began
in earnest, the Trained Band citizens, and even
their wives and children, toiling at the work. The
trades volunteered by turns. One day there were
5,000 felt-makers and cappers, and nearly 3,000
porters; another day, 4,000 or 5,000 shoemakers;
and a third day, 6,000 tailors. Several of the works
were in the neighbourhood of Islington. There was
a breastwork and battery at Mount Mill, in the
Goswell Street Road, another at the end of St.
John Street, a large fort, with four half bulwarks,
at the New River Upper Pond, and a small redoubt
near Islington Pound.
When the great plot to assassinate Cromwell
was detected, in 1653, Vowell, an Islington schoolmaster, one of the plotters, was hung at Charing
Cross. He died bravely, crying out for Church,
King, and Restoration, and warning the soldiers
of their dangerous principles. Colonel Okey,
whom Cromwell compelled to sit as one of King
Charles's judges, was in early life a drayman and
stoker at an Islington brewery. He was seized
in Holland, after the Restoration, and executed
in 1662. A curious story is told of the famous
Parliamentary general, Skippon, in connection
with Islington. This tough old soldier was being
brought from Naseby, where he had been desperately wounded. As his horse litter was passing
through Islington, a mastiff sprang at one of the
horses, and worried him, nor would he let go till a
soldier ran him through with his sword. Skippon,
however, on getting to London, had a piece of his
waistcoat drawn from his bullet-wound, and soon
recovered.
For many ages Islington, especially in summer,
was a favourite resort for London citizens, who
delighted to saunter there to drink creams and eat
cakes, or to hunt the ducks of the suburban ponds
with their water-dogs. As early as 1628, George
Wither, the poet, in his "Britannia's Remembrances,"
describing holiday-making, says—
"Some by the banks of Thames their pleasure taking
Some sillibubs among the milkmaids making,
With music some upon the waters rowing,
Some to the next adjoining hamlets going;
And Hogsdone, Islington and Tothnam Court
For cakes and cream had there no small resort."
Davenant describes very pleasantly in rough
verse the setting out of a citizen's party for
Islington:—
"Now damsel young, that dwells in Cheap,
For very joy, begins to leap;
Her elbow small she oft doth rub,
Tickled with hope of syllabub,
For mother (who does gold maintaine
On thumb, and keys in silver chaine),
In snow-white clout, wrapt nook of pye,
Fat capon's wing, and rabbit's thigh;
And said to Hackney coachman, go,
Take shillings six—say, I or no;
Whither? (says he)—quoth she, thy teame
Shall drive to place where groweth creame.
But husband grey, now comes to stall,
For 'prentice notch'd he strait doth call.
Where's dame? (quoth he)—quoth son of shop,
She's gone her cake in milke to sop.
Ho! ho!—to Islington—enough—
Fetch Job my son, and our dog Ruffe;
For there, in pond, through mire and muck,
We'll cry, hay, duck—there Ruffe—hay, duck," &c.
In the Merry Milkmaid of Islington, 1681, the
prices noted down are highly curious.
Scene—Lovechange, Sir Jeffery Jolt, Artezhim (the Lady
Jolt), and Tapster.
Love. What is the reckoning?
Tap. Nine and elevenpence.
Jeff. How's that? Let's have the particulars. Mr. Lovechange shall know how he parts with his money.
Tap. Why, sir, cakes two shillings, ale as much; a quart
of mortified claret eighteen pence, stewed prunes a shilling.
Art. That's too dear.
Tap. Truly, they cost a penny a pound of the one-handed
costermonger, out of his wife's fish-basket. A quart of cream
half-a-crown.
Art. That's excessive.
Tap. Not if you consider how many carriers' eggs miscarried in the making of it, and the charge of isinglass, and
other ingredients, to make cream of the sour milk.
Art. All this does not amount to what you demand.
Tap. I can make more. Two threepenny papers of sugar
a shilling; then you had bread, sir—
Jeff. Yes, and drink too, sir—my head takes notice of
that.
Tap. 'Tis granted, sir—a pound of sausages, and forty
other things, make it right. Our bar never errs.
The Ducking-ponds were on Islington Green, near
White Conduit House in the Back Road, and in
East Lane, the spot where the Reservoir of the
New River Head afterwards stood. Thomas Jordan, in a coarse comedy called The Walks of
Islington and Hogsden, with the Humours of Wood
Street Compter, 1641, the scene of which is laid
at the "Saracen's Head," Islington, and his Prologue speaks of the diet of the place, and the
sort of persons who went there for amusement.
"Though the scene be Islington, we swear
We will not blow ye up with bottle beer,
Cram ye with creams and fools which sweetly please
Ladies of fortune and young 'prentices,
Who (when the supervisors come to find 'um)
Quake like the custard, which they leave behind 'um."
Browne, in his "New Academy," 1658, alludes
to the "Cream and Cake Boys" who took their
lasses to Islington or Hogsden to feast on white
pots, puddings, pies, stewed prunes, and tansies.
The plague seems to have raged at Islington
in the years 1577, 1578, and 1592. In 1665
593 persons died of the plague. The story of
the first outbreak is told graphically in the "City
Remembrancer." A citizen had broken out of
his house in Aldersgate Street, and had applied in
vain for admission at the "Angel" and the "White
Horse," in Islington. At the "Pied Horse" he
pretended to be entirely free from infection, and
on his way to Lincolnshire, and that he only
required lodgings for one night. They had but
a garret bed empty, and that but for one
night, expecting drovers with cattle next day. A
servant showed him the room, which he gladly
accepted. He was well dressed, and with a sigh
said he had seldom lain in such a lodging, but
would make a shift, as it was but for one night, and
in a dreadful time. He sat down on the bed,
desiring a pint of warm ale, which was forgot.
Next morning one asked what had become of the
gentleman. The maid, starting, said she had never
thought more of him. "He bespoke warm ale, but
I forgot it." A person going up, found him dead
across the bed, in a most frightful posture. His
clothes were pulled off, his jaw fallen, his eyes open,
and the rug of the bed clasped hard in one hand.
The alarm was great, the place having been free
from the distemper, which spread immediately to
the houses round about. Fourteen died of the
plague that week in Islington.
Cromwell is said to have resided in a house
(afterwards the "Crown" public house) on the north
side of the road at Upper Holloway, but there is
no proof of the fact. He probably, however, often
visited Islington to call on his friend Sir Arthur
Haselrigge, colonel of a regiment of cuirassiers,
called the "Lobster" regiment, who had a house
there. In May, 1664–5, Sir Arthur complained to
Parliament that as he was riding from the House of
Commons in the road leading from Perpoole Lane
to Clerkenwell, returning to his house at Islington,
the Earl of Stamford and his two servants had
struck at him with a drawn sword and "other
offensive instruments," upon which he was enjoined
to keep the peace, and neither send nor receive any
challenge.
In later times Islington still remained renowned
for its tea-gardens and places of rustic amusement,
and in the Spleen, or Islington Spa, a comic piece,
written by George Colman, and acted at Drury Lane
in 1756, the author sketches pleasantly enough the
bustle occasioned by a citizen's family preparing
to start for their country house at Islington. The
neats' tongues and cold chickens have to be packed
up preparatory to the party starting in the coach and
three from the end of Cheapside. It was here and
at Highbury that Goldsmith spent many of his
"shoemaker's holidays," and Bonnell Thornton has
sketched in the Connoisseur the Sunday excursions
of the citizens of his times, in which he had no
doubt shared.
Bunbury, that clever but slovenly draftsman,
produced, in 1772, a caricature of a London citizen
in his country villa, and called it "The delights of
Islington." Above it he has written the following
series of fierce threats:—
"Whereas my new pagoda has been clandestinely carried
off, and a new pair of dolphins taken from the top of my
gazebo by some bloodthirsty villains, and whereas a great
deal of timber has been cut down and carried away from
the Old Grove, that was planted last spring, and Pluto and
Proserpine thrown into my basin, from henceforth steel traps
and spring-guns will be constantly set for the better extirpation of such a nest of villains.
"By me,
"Jeremiah Sago."
On a garden notice-board, in another print after
Bunbury, of the same date, is this inscription:—
"THE NEW PARADISE.
"No gentlemen or ladies to be admitted with nails in
their shoes."
Danger lent a certain dignity to these excursions.
In 1739 the roads and footpaths of Islington seem
to have been infested by highwaymen and footpads,
the hornets and mosquitoes of those days. In the
year above mentioned, the Islington Vestry agreed
to pay a reward of £10 to any person who apprehended a robber. It was customary at this time
for persons walking from the City to Islington after
dark to wait at the end of St. John Street till a
sufficient number had collected, and then to be
escorted by an armed patrol. Even in 1742 the
London Magazine observed that scarcely a night
passed without some one being robbed between
the "Turk's Head," near Wood's Close, Islington,
and the road leading to Goswell Street. In 1771
the inhabitants of Islington subscribed a sum
of money for rewarding persons apprehending
robbers, as many dwellings had been broken open,
and the Islington stage was frequently stopped.
In 1780, in consequence of riots and depredations,
the inhabitants furnished themselves with arms
and equipments, and formed a military society for
general protection. In spite of this, robberies and
murders in the by-roads, constantly took place.
In 1782 Mr. Herd, a clerk in the Custom House,
was murdered in the fields near the "Shepherd and
Shepherdess." Mr. Herd, a friend of Woodfall,
the publisher of "Junius," was returning from town
with a friend and two servants well armed, when
he was attacked by footpads armed with cutlasses
and firearms, one of whom (who was afterwards
hanged) shot him with a blunderbuss as he was
resisting. In 1797 Mr. Fryer, an attorney of Southampton Buildings, was attacked by three footpads
and shot through the head. Two men were hung
for this murder, but a third man afterwards confessed on the gallows that he was the murderer.

Sir Walter Raleigh's House.
One of the celebrities of old Islington was
Alexander Aubert, Esq., who first organised
the corps of Loyal Islington Volunteers. In
1797 the loyal inhabitants of Islington formed
themselves into a corps, to defend the country
against its revolutionary enemies. It consisted of
a regiment of infantry and one of cavalry. Mr.
Aubert became lieutenant-colonel commandant
of the corps. The uniform consisted of a blue
jacket with white facings, scarlet cuffs, collar,
and epaulets, and trimmed with silver lace; white
kerseymere pantaloons, short gaiters, helmets,
and cross-belts. The corps was broken up in
1801, when a superb silver vase, valued at 300
guineas, was presented to Mr. Aubert. This
gentleman, who was an eminent amateur astronomer, assisted Smeaton in the construction of
Ramsgate Harbour. He died in 1805, from a cold
caught when inspecting a glass house in Wales. A
portrait of him, in uniform, holding his charger, by
Mather Brown, used to be hung in the first floor
parlour of the "Angel and Crown" at Islington.

ISLINGTON IN 1780.
In 1803, the old fears of French invasion again
filling the minds of citizens, a volunteer corps of
infantry was organised at Islington. It consisted
of about 300 members. They wore as uniform a
scarlet jacket turned up with black, light-blue
pantaloons, short gaiters, and beaver caps. This
second Islington Volunteer Corps broke up in 1806
from want of funds. The adjutant, Mr. Dickson,
joined the 82nd Regiment, and was killed near
Roeskilde, in the island of Zealand, in 1807.
Nelson, writing in 1811, explains the great disproportion that there appeared in the Islington
parish registers between the burials and baptisms,
from the fact of the great number of invalids who
resorted to a district then often called "The
London Hospital." Dr. Hunter used to relate a
story of a lady, who, in an advanced age, and
declining state of health, went, by the advice of
her physician, to take lodgings in Islington. She
agreed for a suite of rooms, and, coming down
stairs, observed that the banisters were much out
of repair. "These," she said, "must be mended
before she could think of coming to live there."
"Madam," replied the landlady," that will answer
no purpose, as the undertaker's men, in bringing
down the coffins, are continually breaking the
banisters." The old lady was so shocked at this
funereal intelligence, that she immediately declined
occupying the apartments.
The most interesting hostelry in old Islington
was the old "Queen's Head," at the corner of
Queen's Head Lane. It was pulled down, to the
regret of all antiquaries, in 1829.
"It was," says Lewis, "a strong wood and
plaister building of three lofty storeys, projecting over each other in front, and forming bay
windows, supported by brackets and carved figures.
The centre, which projected several feet beyond
the other part of the building, and formed a commodious porch, to which there was a descent of
several steps, was supported in front by caryatides
of carved oak, standing on either side of the
entrance, and crowned with Ionic scrolls. The
house is said to have been once entered by an
ascent of several steps, but, at the time it was pulled
down, the floor of its front parlour was four feet
below the level of the highway; and this alteration
is easily accounted for, when the antiquity of the
building, the vast accumulation of matter upon the
road, in the course of many centuries, and the fact
of an arch having been thrown over the New River,
in front of the house, are considered."
"The interior of the house was constructed in a
similar manner to that of most of the old buildings in the parish, having oak-panelled wainscots
and stuccoed ceilings. The principal room was the
parlour already alluded to, the ceiling of which was
ornamented with dolphins, cherubs, acorns, &c.,
surrounded by a wreathed border of fruit and
foliage, and had, near the centre, a medallion, of
a character apparently Roman, crowned with bays,
and a small shield containing the initials 'I. M.'
surrounded by cherubim and glory. The chimneypiece was supported by two figures carved in stone,
hung with festoons, &c., and the stone slab, immediately over the fireplace, exhibited the stories of
Danae and Actæon in relief, with mutilated figures
of Venus, Bacchus, and Plenty."
Tradition had long connected this house with
the name of Sir Walter Raleigh, though with no
sufficient reason. In the thirtieth year of Elizabeth,
Sir Walter obtained a patent "to make licences
for keeping of taverns and retailing of wines
throughout England." This house may be one of
those to which Raleigh granted licences, and the
sign then marked the reign in which it was
granted. There is also a tradition that Lord
Treasurer Burleigh once resided here, and a topographical writer mentions the fact that two lions
carved in wood, the supporters of the Cecil arms,
formerly stood in an adjoining yard, and appeared to
have once belonged to the old "Queen's Head."
Another story is that Queen Elizabeth's saddler
resided here; while others assert that it was the
summer residence of the Earl of Essex, and the
resort of Elizabeth. Early in the last century, this
occasional house belonged to a family named
Roome, one of whom left the estate to Lady
Edwards. The oak parlour of the old building
was preserved in the new one. In a house adjoining the "Queen's Head" resided John Rivington,
the well-known bookseller, who died in 1792.
Behind Frederick Place we reach the site of the
old "Pied Bull" Inn, pulled down about forty-five
years ago, which was originally either the property
or the residence of Sir Walter Raleigh. In the
parlour window, looking into the garden, was some
cuirous stained glass, containing the arms of Sir
John Miler, Kinght, of Islington and Devon. These
arms bear date eight years after Sir Walter was
beheaded, and were, it is supposed, substituted
by Miler when he came to reside here. The seahorses, parrots in the window, and the leaves, supposed to represent tobacco, seem to have been
chosen as emblems of his career by Raleigh himself.
"The arms in the parlour window," says Nelson,
"are enclosed within an ornamental border, consisting of two mermaids, each crested with a globe,
as many sea-horses supporting a bunch of green
leaves over the shield, and the lower part contains
a green and a grey parrot, the former eating fruit.
Adjoining to this is another compartment in the
window, representing a green parrot perched on a
wreath, under a pediment, within a border of figures
and flowers, but which does not seem to have been
intended for any armorial ensign.
"The chimney-piece of this room contains the
figures of Faith, Hope, and Charity, with their
usual insignia, in niches, surrounded by a border
of cherubim, fruit, and foliage. The centre figure,
Charity, is surmounted by two Cupids supporting a
crown, and beneath is a lion and unicorn couchant.
This conceit was probably designed by the artist
in compliment to the reigning princess, Queen
Elizabeth. The ceiling displays a personification
of the Five Senses in stucco, with Latin mottoes
underneath, as follows:—An oval in the centre
contains a female figure holding a serpent, which
is twining round her right arm, and biting the
hand; her left hand holds a stick, the point of
which rests on the back of a toad at her feet. The
motto to this is 'Tactus.' Around the above, in
smaller ovals, are, a female bearing fruit under her
left arm, of which she is eating, as is also an ape
seated at her feet, with the word 'Gustus.' Another
figure holding a vizard. At its feet a cat and a hawk,
with the motto, 'Visus.' A figure playing on the
lute, with a stag listening, and the motto, 'Auditus.'
The last figure is standing in a garden, and holding
a bouquet of flowers. At her feet is a dog, and the
motto, 'Olfactus.'"
That corner stone of Islington, the "Angel," has
been now an established inn for considerably more
than 200 years. In old days, it was a great haltingplace for travellers in the first night out of London.
"The ancient house," says Lewis, "which was
pulled down in 1819 to make way for the present
one, presented the usual features of a large old
country inn, having a long front with an overhanging tiled roof, and two rows of windows,
twelve in each row, independently of those on the
basement storey. The principal entrance was beneath a projection, which extended along a portion of the front, and had a wooden gallery at the
top. The inn-yard, approached by a gateway in
the centre, was nearly a quadrangle, having double
galleries, supported by plain columns and carved
pilasters, with caryatides and other figures."
There is a tradition that the whole of the ground
from the corner of the Back Road to the "Angel"
was forfeited by the parish of Islington, and united
to that of Clerkenwell, in consequence of the
refusal of the Islingtonians to bury a pauper who
was found dead at the corner of the Back Road.
The corpse being taken to Clerkenwell, the district
above described was claimed, and retained by that
parish.
CHAPTER XXXII.
ISLINGTON (continued).
The old Parish Church of Islington—Scaffolding superseded—A sadly-interesting Grave—misner House—George Morland, the Artist—A great
Islington Family—Celebrities of Cross Street—John Quick, the Comedian—The Abduction of a Child—Laycock's Dairy Farm—Alexander
Cruden, the Author of the Concordance—William Hawes, the Founder of the Royal Humane Society—Charles Lamb at Islington—William
Woodfall and Colley Cibber—Baron D'Aguilar, the Miser—St. Peter's Church, Islington—Irvingites at Islington—The New River and
Sir Hugh Myddelton—The Opening Ceremony—Collins, the Poet—The "Crown" Inn—Hunsdon House—Islington CelebritiesMrs. Barbauld—The Duke's Head—Topham, the "Strong Man."
The old parish church of Islington, dedicated to
the Virgin Mary, was a strange rambling structure, entered through a gable-ended school-room
which blocked up the west end. It had an old
flint tower, with six bells, a clock, and a sun-dial.
The date of the building was not much earlier than
1483. In 1751, the church becoming ruinous, it
was pulled down and rebuilt by Mr. Steemson, under
the direction of Mr. Dowbiggin, one of the unsuccessful competitors for the erection of Blackfriars
Bridge. It cost £7,340. In 1787 the church was
repaired and the tower strengthened.
"Thomas Birch, a basket-maker," says Nelson,
"undertook, for the sum of £20, to erect a scaffold,
of wicker-work round the spire, and which he
formed entirely of willow, hazel, and other sticks.
It had a flight of stairs within, ascending in a spiral
line from the octagonal balustrade to the vane, by
which the ascent was as easy and safe as the stairs
of a dwelling-house. This ingenious contrivance
entirely superseded the use of a scaffold, which would
have been more expensive, and is frequently attended with danger in works of this kind. The
spire on this occasion presented a very curious
appearance, being entirely enveloped, as it were, in
a huge basket, within which the workmen were
performing the necessary repairs in perfect safety.
The late Alderman Staines is said to have been the
first person who contrived this kind of scaffolding, in
some repairs done to the spire of St. Bride's Church,
London, which was damaged by lightning in the
year 1764, after having his scaffold-poles, &c.,
which had been erected in the usual way, carried
away by a violent storm."
In Islington Church were buried, in 1609, Sir
George Wharton, son of Lord Wharton, and James
Steward, son of Lord Blantyre, and godson of
James I. These young gallants quarrelled at the
gaming-table, and fought at Islington with sword
and dagger, and in their shirts, for fear of either
wearing concealed armour. They both fell dead
on the field, and, by the king's desire, were buried
in one grave. In the church vault are two iron
coffins, and one of cedar, the last containing the
body of Justice Palmer, train-bearer to Onslow,
the Speaker. The object of the cedar was to resist the attack of the worms, and the cover was
shaped like the gable roof of a house to prevent any
other coffin being put upon it. Here, also, is
buried a great-grandson of the eminent navigator,
Magelhaens, and Osborne, the Gray's Inn bookseller, whom Dr. Johnson knocked down with a
folio. Osborne gave £13,000 for the Earl of
Oxford's library, the binding of which alone had
cost £18,000. In 1808 the body of a young
woman named Thomas was disinterred here, there
being a suspicion that she had been murdered, as a
large wire was formerly thrust through her heart.
It was, however, found that this had been done by
the doctor, at her dying request, to prevent the
possibility of her being buried alive.
One of the celebrated buildings of Islington was
Fisher House, in the Lower Street, and nearly
opposite the east end of Cross Street. It was
probably built about the beginning of the seventeenth century. In the interior the arms of Fowler
and Fisher were to be seen. Ezekiel Tongue,
an old writer against the Papists, is supposed to
have kept a school here about 1660 for teaching
young ladies Greek and Latin. It was afterwards
a lodging-house, and then a lunatic asylum. Here
Brothers, the prophet, was confined, till Lord
Chancellor Erskine liberated him in 1806.
At the south end of Frog Lane was formerly a
public-house called " Frog Hall;" the sign, a plough
drawn by frogs. At the "Barley Mow" publichouse, in Frog Lane, George Morland, the painter,
resided for several months, about the year 1800.
Morland would frequently apply to a farm-house
opposite for harness, to sketch, and if he saw a
suitable rustic for a model pass by, would induce him
to sit, by the offer of money and beer. Here he
drank and painted alternately. Close by, at No. 8,
Popham Terrace, resided that useful old writer,
John Thomas Smith (he was a pupil of Nollekens),
"Rainy Day Smith," to whose works on London
we have been much indebted. He became Keeper
of the Print-Room of the British Museum, and died
in 1833.
Opposite Rufford's Buildings there stood, till
1812, an old Elizabethan house of wood and
plaster, with curious ceilings, and a granite mantelpiece representing the Garden of Eden and the Tree
of Knowledge. The new house became Shield's
school, where Dr. Hawes and John Nicholls, the
antiquary, were educated. In a house which formerly stood in the Upper Street, opposite Cross
Street, resided Dr. William Pitcairn, elected physician, in 1750, to St. Bartholomew's Hospital. He
commenced a botanical garden of five acres behind
the house, but it does not now exist.
One of the celebrated houses of old Islington
was No. 41, Cross Street, and formerly the mansion
of the Fowler family, lords of the manor of Barnesbury. The Fowlers were great people in their
swords and ruffs, in the days of Elizabeth and
James; and Sir Thomas Fowler appears to have
been one of the jurors upon the trial of Sir Walter
Raleigh, at Winchester, in 1603. The house is
wood and plaster, with a modern brick front. It
appears to be of the age of Elizabeth.
"The ceiling of a back room on the first floor,"
says Lewis," is decorated with the arms of England in the reign of that princess, with her initials,
and the date (1595) in stucco; also the initials of
Thomas and Jane Fowler, F./T.I. with fleur de lis,
medallions, &c., in the same style as the ceilings
at Canonbury House. The rooms are wainscoted
with oak in panels, and till the year 1788, when
they were removed, the windows contained some
arms in stained glass, among which were those of
Fowler, with the date (1588), and those of Herne, or
Heron. In pulling down some old houses for the
formation of Halton Street, at the east end of this
house, some remains of the ancient stabling and
offices were taken away. In these stables a fire
broke out on the 17th February, 1655, but it does
not appear to have done any injury to the dwellinghouse.
"At the extremity of the garden which belonged
to the mansion is a small building, originally about
fifteen feet square, and presenting an exterior of
brick, absurdly called Queen Elizabeth's Lodge.
It appears to have afforded access to the house
through the grounds, and was probably built as a
summer-house or porter's lodge, at the entrance of
the garden, about the time the mansion-house was
erected. The arms of Fowler, bearing an esquire's
helmet, are cut in stone on the west side of the
building, near the top, which proves that the time
of its erection was before the honour of knighthood
had been conferred upon its owner."
The name attached to the lodge may have arisen
from some visit paid by Elizabeth to Sir Thomas
Fowler or Sir John Spencer.
A house near the old charity school at the top of
Cross Street was partly demolished by the London
rioters in 1780, when it was occupied by the
obnoxious Justice Hyde, who had ordered out the
troops, and whose goods the true Protestants with
the blue cockade burnt in the street.
In Cross Street, in 1817, died Mrs. Hester
Milner, the youngest of ten daughters of the Dr.
John Milner in whose school Dr. John Hawkesworth
and Oliver Goldsmith were assistants. At the
"Old Parr's Head," at the corner of Cross Street,
John Henderson, the best Falstaff ever known on
the stage, made his first appearance in public, by
reciting Garrick's ode to Shakespeare, with close
imitations of the actor's manner. He appeared
as Hamlet at the Bath Theatre in 1772.
John Quick, a celebrated comedian, resided at
Hornsey Row. He was the son of a Whitechapel
brewer, and was the original Tony Lumpkin, Bob
Acres, and Isaac Mendosa; he was one of the
last of the Garrick school, and was a great favourite
of George III. He retired in 1798, after thirtysix years on the boards, with £10,000, and died
in 1831, aged eighty-three, another proof of the
longevity of successful actors. Up to the last of
his life Quick frequented a club at the "King's
Head," opposite the old church, and officiated as
president. Mrs. Davenport was Quick's daughter.
In the year 1818 great interest was excited by
the abduction of the child of a shipbroker, named
Horsley, who resided at 3, Canonbury Lane. It
had been stolen by a man named Rennett, who
had conceived a hatred for the boy's grandfather,
Charles Dignum, the singer, and also for the sake
of the reward. The man was tracked, taken, and
eventually transported for seven years.
Laycock's dairy farm faced Union Chapel, built
by Mr. Leroux, at the beginning of the century.
Laycock, an enterprising man, who died in 1834,
erected sheds for cattle on their way to Smithfield.
Laycock and a Mr. Rhodes had gradually absorbed
the smaller grass farms (once the great feature of
Islington), and which were common seventy or
eighty years ago, says Mr. Lewis, writing in 1842.
The stocks varied from twenty to a hundred cows.
"One of these was on the site of Elliot's Place,
Lower Street; another where Bray's Buildings now
stand, and others in the Upper Street, and at
Holloway."
At a house in Camden Passage, near the west
end of Camden Street, and also in the Upper
Street and at Paradise Row, lived that extraordinary man, Alexander Cruden, the compiler of
the laborious Concordance to the Bible. Cruden,
the son of an Aberdeen merchant, was born in
1701. After being a private tutor and a corrector
of the press, he opened a bookseller's shop under
the Royal Exchange, London, and there wrote his
Concordance. His mind becoming disordered at
the bad reception of the Concordance, he was sent to
an asylum at Bethnal Green, the practices at which
he afterwards attacked, bringing an unsuccessful
action against the celebrated Dr. Munro. In 1754,
on his release, he applied for the honour of knighthood, put himself in nomination for the City of
London, and assumed the title of "Alexander the
Corrector," believing himself divinely inspired to
reform a corrupt age. One of his harmless eccentricities was going about with a sponge, erasing
the number forty-five from the walls, to show
his aversion for John Wilkes, against whom he
published a pamphlet. Eventually he became
corrector for the press on Mr. Woodfall's paper, the
Public Advertiser, and devoted his spare time to
teaching the felons in Newgate, and other works of
charity. He dedicated the second edition of his
Concordance to George III., and presented him a
copy in person. He died in 1770, being found
dead on his knees, in the attitude of prayer. He
was buried in a Dissenting burial-ground, in Deadman's Place, Southwark.
That excellent man, Dr. William Hawes, the
founder of the Royal Humane Society, was born
in 1736, in "Job's House," or the "Old Thatched
House" Tavern, in Cross Street, and was the son
of the landlord. In 1773 he began to call attention to the means of resuscitating persons apparently drowned, a subject which the Gentleman's
Magazine had been urging for thirty years. At
first he encountered much ridicule and opposition,
but, in 1774, Dr. Hawes and Dr. Cogan brought
each fifteen friends to a meeting at the "Chapter"
Coffee House, and the Humane Society was at
once formed, and the "Thatched House" Tavern
became one of the first houses of reception. This
same year Dr. Hawes wrote a pamphlet on the
death of Goldsmith, to show the dangers of violent
medicine. In 1793 this good man was the chief
means of saving 1,200 families of Spitalfields
weavers from starvation, at a time when cotton
had begun to supersede silk. Dr. Hawes died in
1808, and was buried in the cemetery attached to
the churchyard at Islington.

LONDON FROM ISLINGTON (CITY AND EAST END). (From a View by Canaletti, published in 1753.)

LONDON FROM ISLINGTON (WEST END). (From a View by Canaletti, published in 1753.)
Colebrooke Row was built in 1768. Six acres
at the back formed at first a nursery and then a
brick-field. Here that delightful humourist, Charles
Lamb, resided, with his sister, from about 1823 to
1826, immediately after his retirement from the
India House.
Lamb describes his place of abode at Islington,
in a letter to Bernard Barton, dated September 2,
1823:—"When you come Londonward, you will
find me no longer in Covent Garden; I have a
cottage in Colebrooke Row, Islington—a cottage,
for it is detached—a white house, with six good
rooms in it. The New River (rather elderly by
this time) runs (if a moderate walking-pace can be
so termed) close to the foot of the house; and
behind is a spacious garden, with vines (I assure
you), pears, strawberries, parsnips, leeks, carrots,
cabbages, to delight the heart of old Alcinous. You
enter without passage into a cheerful dining-room,
all studded over and rough with old books; and
above is a lightsome drawing-room, three windows,
full of choice prints. I feel like a great lord, never
having had a house before." And again, in the
November following, in a letter to Robert Southey,
he informs the bard, who had promised him a call,
that he is "at Colebrooke Cottage, left hand
coming from Saddler's Wells." It was here that
that amiable bookworm, George Dyer, editor of
the Delphin classics, walked quietly into the New
River from Charles Lamb's door, but was soon recovered, thanks to the kind care of Miss Lamb.
A small house at the back of Colebrooke Row
was the residence of that great Parliamentary reporter, William Woodfall, the friend of Garrick,
Goldsmith, and Savage. In lodgings at a house
near the "Castle Tavern" and Tea Gardens, old
Colley Cibber, the best fop that ever appeared on
the stage, died in 1757, aged eighty-six. As one
of Pope's most recalcitrant butts, as the author of
the Careless Husband, and as poet laureate, Cibber
occupied a prominent place among the lesser lights
of the long Georgian era. Cibber's reprobate
daughter, Charlotte Charke, among other eccentricities in her reckless life, kept a public-house at
Islington, where she died in 1760.
At the close of the last century the Baron
D'Aguilar, a half-crazed miser, lived in Camden
Street, and kept a small farm on the west bank of
the New River, near the north end of Colebrooke
Row. He beat his wife and starved his cattle,
which were occasionally in the habit of devouring
each other. He died in 1802, leaving jewels worth
£30,000. The total bulk of his property is supposed to have been worth upwards of £200,000,
which he left to two daughters, one of whom he
cursed on his dying bed.
St. Peter's Church, Islington, consecrated in 1835,
was erected at an expense of £3,407. The Irvingite
church, in Duncan Road, was erected in 1834, the
year Irving died. After his expulsion from the
Presbytery, Irving frequently preached in Britannia
Fields, Islington, till his admirers rented for him
West's Picture Gallery, in Newman Street.
And here we may, as well as anywhere else, sketch
the history of the New River, which passes along
Colebrooke Row, but was some years ago covered
over. In the reign of Elizabeth, the London
conduits being found quite inadequate to the
demands of the growing City, the Queen granted
the citizens leave to convey a stream to London,
from any part of Middlesex or Hertfordshire.
Nothing, however, was done, nor was even a second
Act, passed by King James, ever carried into effect.
What all London could not do, a single publicspirited man accomplished. In 1609, Mr. Hugh
Myddelton, a Welsh goldsmith, who had enriched
himself by mines in Cardiganshire, persuaded the
Common Council to transfer to him the power
granted them by the above-mentioned Acts, and
offered, in four years, at his own risk and charge,
to bring the Chadwell and Amwell springs from
Hertfordshire to London, by a route more than
thirty-eight miles long. Endless vexations, however, befell the enterprising man. The greedy
landholders of Middlesex and Herts did all they
could to thwart him. Eventually he had to petition
the City for an extension of the time for the
fulfilment of his contract to nine years, and at last,
when the water had been brought as far as Enfield,
Myddelton was so completely drained that he had
to apply to the City for aid. On their ungenerous
refusal, he resorted to the King, who, tempted by
a moiety of the concern, paid half the expenses.
The scheme then progressed fast, and on the 29th
of September, 1613, the water was at last let into
the New River Head, at Clerkenwell. Hugh
Myddelton's brother (the Lord Mayor of London)
and many aldermen and gentlemen were present
at the ceremony, which repaid the worthy goldsmith for his years of patient toil.
Stow gives us an account of the way in which the
ceremony was performed. "A troop of labourers,"
he says, "to the number of sixty or more, well
apparelled, and wearing green Monmouth caps, all
alike, carryed spades, shovels, pickaxes, and such
like instruments of laborious employment marching
after drummes, twice or thrice about the cisterne,
presented themselves before the mount, where the
Lord Maior, aldermen, and a worthy company
beside, stood to behold them; and one man in
behalf of all the rest, delivered this speech:—
'Long have we labour'd, long desir'd, and pray'd
For this great work's perfection; and by th' aid
Of Heaven and good men's wishes, 'tis at length
Happily conquered, by cost, art, and strength.
And after five yeeres deare expence, in dayes,
Travaile, and paines, beside the infinite wayes
Of malice, envy, false suggestions,
Able to daunt the spirits of mighty ones
In wealth and courage. This, a work so rare,
Onely by one man's industry, cost, and care,
Is brought to blest effect; so much withstood,
His onely ayme, the Citie's generall good.
And where (before) many unjust complaints,
Enviously seated, caused oft restraints,
Stops and great crosses, to our master's charge,
And the work's hindrance; Favour, now at large,
Spreads herself open to him, and commends
To admiration, both his paines and ends
(The King's most gracious love).
* * * * *
Now for the fruits then; flow forth precious spring
So long and dearly sought for, and now bring
Comfort to all that love thee; loudly sing,
And with thy chrystal murmurs strook together,
Bid all thy true well-wishers welcome hither.'
At which words the flood-gates flew open, the
streame ran gallantly into the cisterne, drummes
and trumpets sounding in triumphall manner, and
a brave peale of chambers gave full issue to the
intended entertainement."
It was a considerable time before the New River
water came into full use, and for the first nineteen
years the annual profit scarcely amounted to twelve
shillings a share. The following figures will give
the best idea of the improvement of value in this
property:—1634 (the second), £3 4s. 2d.; 1680,
£145 1s. 8d.; 1720, £214 15s. 7d.; and 1794,
£431 8s. 8d. The shares in 1811 were considered worth £11,500, and an adventurer's share
has been sold for as much as £17,000. The
undertaking cost the first projectors half a million
sterling. There were originally seventy-two shares,
and thirty-six of these were vested in the projector,
whose descendants, however, became impoverished,
and were obliged to part with the property. The
mother of the last Sir Hugh indeed received a
pension of twenty pounds per annum from the
Goldsmiths' Company.
Sir Hugh died in 1631 a prosperous man, though
there is an old Islington tradition that he became
pensioner in a Shropshire village, applied in vain
for relief to the City, and died in obscurity.
The last Sir Hugh was a poor drunken fellow
who strived hard to die young, and boarded with
an Essex farmer. Even as late as 1828 a female
descendant of the Welsh goldsmith obtained a
small annuity from the Corporation.
The New River is mentioned by Nelson in 1811
as having between 200 and 300 bridges over it,
and upwards of forty sluices. Lewis, writing in
1842, speaks of it as having in his day "one
hundred and fifty-four bridges over it, and four
large sluices in its course, and in various parts,
both over and under its stream, numerous currents
of land-waters, and brooks, and rivulets." It was
formerly conducted over the valley near Highbury, in a huge wooden trough 462 feet long,
supported by brick piers, and called the Boarded
River. This was, however, removed in 1776.
Dr. Johnson describes going to Islington to see
poor Collins, the poet, when his mind was beginning to fail. It was after Collins had returned
from France, and had come to Islington, directing
his sister to meet him there. " There was then,"
says the Doctor, " nothing of disorder discernible
in his mind by any but himself; but he had withdrawn from study, and travelled with no other
book than an English Testament, such as children
carry to the school." When his friend took it in
his hand, out of curiosity, to see what companion
a man of letters had chosen, " I have but one
book," said Collins, "but that is the best."
On the east side of the Lower Street was formerly a very old public-house called " The Crown."
"It contained," says Lewis, "several fragments of
antiquity, in the form of carved work, stained glass,
&c., and had been probably once the residence of
some opulent merchant or person of distinction.
In the window of a room on the ground-floor were
the arms of England, the City of London, the
Mercers' Company, and another coat; also the
red and white roses united, with other ornaments,
indicative of its having been erected about the time
of Henry VII. or Henry VIII. Many years previous to the pulling down of the building, it had
been converted into a public-house, the common
fate of most of the old respectable dwellings in
this parish, and was latterly kept by a person
named Pressey, who frequently accommodated
strolling players with a large room in the house for
the exhibition of dramatic performances."
Between Lower Chapel Street and Paradise Place
stood an old mansion generally known as Hunsden
House, which was pulled down in 1800. It was
supposed to have been the residence of Queen
Elizabeth's favourite cousin, Henry Carey, created
by her Lord Hunsden. The front, abutting on
Lower Street, was inscribed King John's Place, as
that king was said to have had a hunting-lodge
there. Sir Thomas Lovell rebuilt the house. It was
supposed, from the armorial bearings in one of the
stained glass windows, that this chosen residence
had been at one time the abode of the great Earl
of Leicester, the most favoured of all Elizabeth's
suitors. It afterwards became the property of Sir
Robert Ducy, Bart., the banker of Charles I. The
memorable mansion was celebrated for its rich
windows, illustrating the subjects of the Faithful
Steward and the Prodigal Son, and crowded besides with prophets and saints. There was also a
magnificent chimney-piece, containing the arms of
the City of London, with those of Lovell quartering Muswell or Mosell, the arms of St. John's
Priory, always potent in this neighbourhood, besides
those of Gardeners of London, grocer, and the
Company of Merchant Adventurers.
Among the celebrities of Islington we may
notice the following, in addition to those already
given:—Sir Henry Yelverton, a judge of Common
Pleas in the reign of Charles I., who was baptised at
St. Mary's. He got entangled in opposition to the
imperious Duke of Buckingham, and paid for it
by an imprisonment in the Tower and a heavy fine.
Robert Brown, the founder of the sect of
Brownists, was a lecturer at Islington. After flying
to Holland, and being excommunicated on his
return to England by a bishop, he went back to the
Establishment about 1590, and accepted a living
in Northamptonshire, where he lived a somewhat
discreditable life. For striking a constable who
had demanded a rate from him Brown was sent to
Northampton gaol, where he boasted that he had
been in thirty-two prisons. He died in 1630, aged
eighty-one.
Defoe was educated at a Nonconformist seminary at Islington, and four years there was all the
education the clever son of a butcher in St. Giles's
seems ever to have had. Edmund Halley, the
celebrated astronomer royal, fitted up an observatory at Islington; and resided there from 1682 till
1696. It was Halley who urged Newton to write the
" Principia," and superintended its publication.
He is accused of gross unfairness to his two great
contemporaries, Leibnitz and Flamsteed, breaking
open a sealed catalogue of fixed stars drawn up
by the latter, and printing them with his own name.
Halley's greatest work was the first prediction of
the return of a comet, and a discovery of inequalities in the motion of Jupiter and Saturn, which
confirmed Newton's great discovery of the law of
gravitation.
Mrs. Foster, the granddaughter of Milton, kept
a chandler's shop at Lower Holloway for some
years, and died at Islington in 1754. In her the
family of Milton became extinct. She was poor
and infirm, and in 1750 Comus was represented at
Drury Lane Theatre for her benefit, Dr. Johnson
writing the prologue, which was spoken by Garrick.
She used to say that her grandfather was harsh
to his daughters, and refused to allow them to be
taught to write; but we mustallow perhaps something
for the perpetual irritation of gout, which would
sour the temper of an archangel. At Newington
Green resided Dr. Richard Price, a Nonconformist
minister, celebrated for his financial calculations
in connection with assurance societies. He was a
friend of Howard, Priestley, and Franklin, and was
consulted by Pitt as to the adoption of the Sinking
Fund. He died in 1791. Mary Woolstonecroft,
the wife of William Godwin, and the mother of
Mrs. Shelley, in early life conducted a day-school
at Newington Green. She was one of the first
advocates of the rights of women, and died in 1797.
That excellent woman, Mrs. Barbauld, was wife
of Mr. Barbauld, a minister at a Unitarian chapel
on Newington Green. Amongst the vicars of St.
Mary's we should not forget Daniel Wilson, Heber's
successor as Bishop of Calcutta. He succeeded
the good Cecil at St. John's, Bedford Row. Nelson,
the best of the Islington historians, lived and died,
says Mr. W. Howitt, at his house at the corner of
Cumberland Street, Islington Green. Rogers, the
banker-poet, was born in 1763 at Newington
Green, "the first house that presents itself on the
west side, proceeding from Ball's Pond." On his
mother's side Rogers was descended from Philip
Henry, the father of Matthew Henry, the pious
author of the well-known exposition of the Bible.
In one of the detached houses opposite Lorraine
Place lived that pushing publisher and projector,
Sir Richard Phillips. We have described this
active minded compiler elsewhere. Dr. Jackson,
Bishop of London, was for a time head-master of
the Islington Proprietary School.
The " Duke's Head," at the south-east corner of
Cadd's Row, near the Green, was, in the middle
of the last century, kept by Thomas Topham,
the celebrated "Strong Man" of Islington. His
most celebrated feats were pulling against a horse
at a wall in Moorfields; and, finally, in 1741, in
Coldbath Fields, lifting three hogsheads of water,
weighing 1,831 pounds, to commemorate the
taking of Porto Bello by Admiral Vernon. He
once hoisted a sleeping watchman in his box, and
dropped both box and watchman over the wall
into Bunhill Fields Burying Ground. Towards the
close of his life this unhappy Samson took a
public-house in Hog Lane, Shoreditch, and there,
in 1749, in a paroxysm of just jealousy, he stabbed
his unfortunate wife and killed himself.