CHAPTER XXXI.
LAMBETH (continued).—WATERLOO ROAD, &c.
"In populous city pent,
Where houses thick, and sewers, annoy the air."—Milton.
Ecclesiastical Divisions of the Parish of Lambeth—The Lambeth Water-works—The Shot Factory—Belvidere Road—Royal Infirmary for Children
and Women—The General Lying in Hospital—St. John's Church—The Grave of Elliston—The South-Western Railway Terminus—The
New Cut—Sunday Trading—The Victoria Palace Theatre—Dominic Serres—St. Thomas's Church—Lambeth Marsh—Bishop Bonner's
House—Erasmus King's Museum—The "Spanish Patriot"—All Saints' Church—The Canterbury Hall—The Bower Saloon—Stangate—"Old Grimaldi"—Carlisle House—Norfolk House—Old Mill at Lambeth—The London Necropolis Company—St. Thomas's Hospital—The Albert Embankment—Inundations in Lambeth—Lambeth Potteries and Glass Works—Schools of Art—Manufactures of Lambeth.
By an order of council, made in 1825, the parish
of Lambeth was divided into five districts—called
respectively St. Mary's, or the old church district;
Waterloo, or St. John's district; Kennington, or St.
Mark's; Brixton, or St. Matthew's; and Norwood,
or St. Luke's. Of the three last-named districts
we have already treated in the course of our perambulations. Of St. John's district we will now
proceed to speak.
The formation of Waterloo Bridge—which was
completed and opened on the 18th of June,
1817—as may be expected, soon made a great
alteration in the appearance of Southern London,
especially in those parts lying between Blackfriars
and Westminster Bridge Roads. Towards the
close of the last century, water-works for Lambeth
were established in the Belvidere Road, on part of
Belvidere Wharf, and what was formerly a garden
on the Narrow Wall. A company—called the
Lambeth Water-works Company—was established
for supplying the parish of Lambeth and parts adjacent with water taken from the Thames. They
commenced their operations with a small capital,
but by careful management, and avoiding a large
expenditure at the commencement, their enterprise
was attended with success.
Previous to the formation of the above-mentioned
company, the portion of the metropolis lying south
of the river Thames was first supplied with water
by two wheels erected at London Bridge, near the
Surrey shore, and also by separate works at St.
Mary Overies. These two establishments, both of
considerable antiquity, were combined, under the
name of the Southwark Water-works, in 1822. In
1805, a third company, the Vauxhall Water-works
Company, was established for supplying the Surrey
side of London. They took their water at first
from the river Effra, and subsequently from the
Thames, near Vauxhall Bridge.
All the above-mentioned companies, in the first
instance, supplied water just as it came to hand,
without being over-particular as to its condition.
Between the years 1820 and 1830, however, the
attention of the public was attracted to the quality
of the water they were then receiving, and since it
appeared that improvement was needed, the companies, urged by the pressure from without, took
steps to improve it accordingly. The Lambeth
Water-works Company, shortly after 1830, formed
elevated reservoirs at Brixton Hill and Streatham,
for the purpose of the service generally, and maintaining a constant supply of water in case of fire.
Of late years, however, they have made a great
improvement in the old condition of things; for,
considering the state of the river in the tide-way
objectionable as a source of supply (owing principally to the constant agitation now kept up by
the steamboats plying between the bridges, and
the increased quantity of sewage poured into the
Thames in the London district), they obtained, in
1848, an Act to enable them to abandon their
former source near the Belvidere Road, and to take
water from the pure stream of the river at Ditton,
twenty-three miles above London Bridge, and far
beyond the reach of the tide.
THE HOUSES IN WATERLOO BRIDGE ROAD.
About the same time that the water-works were
established here, a large shot factory was built close
by, together with a fine wet-dock for the loading
and warehousing of goods. Near Waterloo Bridge.
and close to the site of Cuper's Gardens, of which
we have already spoken, (fn. 1) another shot manufactory
was erected about the year 1789 by Messrs. Watts.
The height of the tower of this manufactory is 140
feet, and the shot falls upwards of 120 feet. These
shot towers are conspicuous objects on the southern
side of the Thames near Waterloo Bridge.
The Belvidere Road, or Narrow Wall, is an
ancient way, as it is depicted in views of London
dated 1588; as are Vine Street and the Cornwall
Road; but no houses seem to have been in either
of them, with the exception of a few in and about
Vine Street. From the Belvidere Road, in the
present day, an excellent opportunity is afforded
of noticing the extent of the artificial elevation
given to the road when the approaches to Waterloo
Bridge were made. Indeed, it hardly needs the
occasional incursions of the river to remind the
water-side inhabitants that this now dense and
widely-spreading region was once a marsh, and
even a flat swampy level, scarcely raised above the
surface of the Thames.
VIEW IN THE NEW CUT.
One of the first institutions which attracts our
attention as we pass down the Waterloo Road is
the Royal Infirmary for Children and Women,
which has stood here for upwards of half a century.
It was originally established at St. Andrew's Hill,
in the City, in 1816, but was removed to Lambeth
in 1823. The Duke of Kent assisted in founding
the infirmary, and the Queen has long been an
annual subscriber; and the Prince of Wales, on
whose estate as Duke of Cornwall the hospital
stands, has allowed the committee to purchase the
freehold on advantageous terms. In 1875 the
building was enlarged and considerably improved.
The institution, which is supported by donations
and subscriptions, at first received children only,
to whom it afforded relief for diseases of all kinds,
from the time of birth till fourteen years of age,
being open, in cases of emergency, to all first applications for admission without any recommendation.
There were in 1877 fifty beds and cots in the
hospital, and an asphalte playground on the roof
for convalescent patients. During the preceding
year 232 in-patients (children) were received, and
6,550 out-patients (women and children) visited.
There were, during the same period, 1,430 visits
paid by the resident medical officer to sick children
at home. In 1877 the Princess Louise (Marchioness
of Lorne) formally re-opened the infirmary on the
completion of the enlargement mentioned above,
when one of the wards—hitherto known as the
"Hamilton Ward," from having been founded at
the expense of Mr. Francis Hamilton, one of the
vice-presidents—was, at the request of that gentleman, re-named the "Louise Ward." There are
now six wards in all. The patients all pay something towards their treatment. The out-patients
pay 1d. for each visit, and the parents of the
in-patients give 6d. a week. In some cases these
sums are provided by friends connected with the
hospital. This hospital, we need scarcely add, is
situated in the midst of one of the poorest districts
of London, and provides comfortable beds, good
food, kind nursing, and medicine for sick children
and women, who cannot get these things at home,
and that, therefore, it is an institution deserving of
the heartiest support.
Another invaluable institution in this neighbourhood—a sister hospital to the Magdalen—is the
General Lying-in Hospital in York Road. It was
instituted in 1765, mainly through the exertions of
Dr. John Leake, an eminent writer on the diseases
of women, and was incorporated in 1830. The
hospital was formerly in the Westminster Bridge
Road, near Marsh Gate, from which, in 1829, it
was removed to its present situation, where a neat
square building of white brick, ornamented with
stone, with a handsome receding portico of the
Ionic order, has been erected. The hospital was
principally intended as an asylum "for the wives
of poor industrious tradesmen and distressed housekeepers, who, either from unavoidable misfortunes,
or from the burden of large families, are reduced
to want, and rendered incapable of bearing the
expenses incident to the lying-in state, and also
for the wives of indigent soldiers and seamen; but
the governors, in the spirit of true philanthropy,
have extended the benefits of the institution to
unmarried females, restricting this indulgence, however, to the first instance of misconduct."
Pennant enumerates the Lying-in Hospital, the
Asylum, or House of Refuge, and the Magdalen,
as admirable institutions within a short distance of
each other, and together helping to relieve the
sufferings of the weaker sex.
Lower down the Waterloo Road, on the east
side, and nearly facing the terminus of the SouthWestern Railway, stands St. John's Church, which
was built in 1823–4. The site of this church
having been a swamp and horse-pond, an artificial
foundation of piles had to be formed before any
portion of the superstructure could be raised.
The edifice, which is anything but ecclesiastical in
character, is built of brick, with stone dressings;
the plan of the basement comprehends not only
the church, but a terrace in front of it—the former
is a parallelogram, the latter forms a transept at the
west end, the whole of the area being laid out in
catacombs. The terrace was rendered necessary
to fill up the space between the church and the
road, which is considerably raised to meet the
level of Waterloo Bridge. The western front of
the building is occupied with a Grecian portico of
the Doric order, sustaining an entablature, cornice,
and pediment, the frieze being ornamented with
chaplets of myrtle. The steeple is situated above
the centre of the front: it consists of a tower and
spire, both of which are square in their plan; the
storey above the clock-dial is of the Ionic order.
The obelisk on the summit is crowned by a stone
ball and cross. The interior of the church is not
divided into nave and aisles, according to the usual
plan; the piers between the windows are ornamented with pilasters, and the ceiling is horizontal
and panelled.
The sides and west end of the church is occupied
by a gallery, sustained on Doric columns. The
organ was the gift of Mr. Lett, an inhabitant of the
district, who was also the donor of the site of the
church. In the centre aisle is a font of white
marble, brought from Italy, and presented to the
church by the Rev. Dr. Barrett, the first incumbent.
The east end is ornamented with a handsome
stained-glass window, and the reredos is richly
gilt and painted in arabesque.
St. John's Church contains one memorable
tomb, that of Elliston, the comedian, whose name
is so intimately connected, as we have seen, with
transpontine performances. Those who have read
Charles Lamb's reminiscences of Elliston, in his
"Ellistoniana," and his address "to the shade of
Elliston," will not need to be reminded how great
an actor he was, though in the main a comedian.
He was well educated, and never forgot the knowledge of Latin that he acquired during his youth.
"Great wert thou," writes Charles Lamb, "in thy
life, Robert William Elliston, and not lessened in
thy death, if report speaks truly, which says thou
didst direct that thy mortal remains should repose
under no inscription but one of pure Latinity." He
was born in Bloomsbury in 1774, and was educated
at St. Paul's School, being originally intended for
the University. In his boyhood, however, he was
brought into contact with the late Mr. Charles
Mathews, and both being smitten with a love of
the drama, made their first effort on private boards,
on the first floor of a pastry-cook's shop in Bedford
Street, Covent Garden, along with a daughter of
Flaxman, the sculptor. Having played in public
at Bath, York, and other towns in the provinces,
Elliston made his first appearance in London at
the Haymarket in 1796. He was a most joyous
and light-hearted man, excellent alike in tragedy
and comedy, and unrivalled in farce; and he
enjoyed a long lease of popular favour. We have
already mentioned his connection with the Olympic
and the Surrey Theatres. (fn. 2) In his capacity as
manager he would often favour the audience with
a rich specimen of the grandiloquent style—a
style immortalised by Charles Lamb in one of his
delightful Essays. He died in 1831.
The churchyard contains some fine plane-trees;
and steps were, in 1876, being taken to lay it out
as a garden, and make it available for the purposes
of recreation.
Nearly opposite St. John's Church is the London
terminus of the South-Western Railway, together
with the Waterloo Junction station of the SouthEastern Railway. The South-Western terminus in
itself is spacious, but makes no pretence to architectural effect. The South-Western Railway was
originally called the London and Southampton
Railway, and had its terminus for several years at
Nine Elms, Vauxhall. About thirty miles were
open for traffic in 1838, the line being extended
in the following year to Basingstoke, and in 1840
to Southampton. The extension from Vauxhall
to the Waterloo Road was effected in 1848, and
although only a trifle over two miles in length, cost
£800,000. From Waterloo Road to Nine Elms
the line is carried through what is—or, at all
events, was at one time—one of the dirtiest parts
of London, upon a series of brick arches, which
were considered marvels of construction when they
were built. From the Waterloo Road, the approaches to the booking-offices are by inclined
roads. Of the station itself little or nothing need
be said, further than that it has been so much
enlarged and altered at different times since its
first erection, that it now covers a very large space
of ground. It is connected with the South-Eastern
Railway by a bridge for trains and passengers.
From this station trains run at frequent intervals to
Richmond, Hampton Court, Windsor, &c.; also to
Winchester, Portsmouth, Southampton, Weymouth,
Salisbury, Exeter, Plymouth, and other large towns
in the south-west and west of England. "The
advantages of this metropolitan station," writes
Bradshaw, in his "London Guide," "have been
very great, both to mere pleasure-seekers and men
of business; and when about to undertake a journey
on this most tempting and trustworthy of all the
railways, it is felt to be something akin to magic
to be wafted from the very heart of London to the
verge of Southampton Water in less time than one
could walk from here to Hampstead; or enabled
to enjoy the enchanting scenery of Richmond
and Hampton Court for an expenditure of the
same sum that would be absorbed in the most
moderate indulgence at a gloomy tavern in town."
A few minutes' ride on this railway will show the
traveller as much as he will care to see of this
crowded and rather squalid neighbourhood, and
speedily carry him into the fields, out of the smoke
of London.
The New Cut, which runs from the Waterloo to
the Blackfriars Road, at a short distance southward
of the railway terminus, is chiefly remarkable for
the number of its brokers' shops, which line both
sides of the way. The thoroughfare, on Sunday
mornings, has somewhat the character of its rival
near Aldgate, formerly called Petticoat Lane; (fn. 3) and
it has furnished plenty of materials to Henry Mayhew for his sketches of "London Labour and the
London Poor." The following sketch of the New
Cut on a Sunday morning is taken from a pamphlet,
entitled "Sabbath Life in London," published in
1874. The writer, a Scotchman, after narrating
what met his gaze in his rambles through Petticoat
Lane, Leather Lane, and Seven Dials, proceeds:—"Crossing one of the bridges, the same disregard
of the day of rest is exhibited on the Surrey side of
the Thames; and from London Bridge to Vauxhall
Bridge, a distance of three miles, there is an almost
continuous line of streets in which business is conducted as on other days. In this respect the New
Cut takes a prominent part, and the thoroughfare is thronged with women having their aprons
full of provisions. The manner in which these
untidy dames patronise the ginger-beer stalls indicates pretty plainly the dealings they had with the
publican on the previous evening; and if that
is not enough, a glance at the many bruised and
blackened faces will show, certainly not the joys,
but the buffetings of matrimonial life. Were such
characters to show their figures in any town in
Scotland on a 'Sabbath' morning, loaded with
articles for the dinner-table, they would cause as
much consternation as if a legion of Satanic forces
were let loose, and the people, in their deep-rooted
regard for the day, would compel these wanton
Sunday desecrators to beat a speedy retreat from
public indignation. There is something noble in
accounts given of the women in America besieging
the public-houses, emptying the destroying liquors
into the sewers, and turning the barrel-bellied landlords into the streets. Should ever a civil war befall
this country, may it be a rising of Good Templar
Amazons against brewers, distillers, and their
satellites the publicans. Would that the American
spirit could be infused into the mass of London
wives and mothers, not by an exhibition of their
physical determination, but by a display of their
moral power and example, by absenting themselves
altogether from the dram-shop, leaving the publican
to find a better and more certain field of investment. On my way to Lambeth I passed the door
of the Bower Theatre, and my attention was
attracted by the play-bill, which announced these
pieces:—'Innocent or Guilty,' 'Charley Wagg, or
the Mysteries of London,' and the 'Hand of
Death.' This theatre is nightly crowded with
boys, the children of the Sunday-trading women I
have alluded to. There can be no doubt that
such 'penny gaffs' have a tendency to vitiate the
minds of the rising generation, as has also much of
the cheap literature which is issued from the press.
There are parties in the literary and dramatic world
who live upon vice and corruption; and many
of the penny publications, ostensibly got up for
boys, and profusely illustrated, are little better than
guides to the prison and the penitentiary. Whilst
musing on the base purposes to which the drama
is too often devoted in this money-grasping age,
I was surprised to notice, in large letters, the title
of a piece now being performed at the Adelphi,
'The Prayer in the Storm, or the Thirst for Gold.'
Just as well might the publican designate his
premises 'The House of Prayer,' 'The Gate of
Heaven,' or 'The Celestial Abode.' The legitimate
drama has many beauties, and serves many useful
purposes; but when it goes beyond the teachings
of morality, and encroaches on the domains of
religion, it deserves to be treated with reprobation
and contempt."
The Sunday trading in the "Cut" is continued
westward through Lambeth Lower Marsh towards
the Westminster Bridge Road, so that the whole
distance from the last-named road to Surrey Chapel
presents what Dr. Johnson would have called "an
animated appearance."
The regular habitués of the place may be divided
into two classes—the various dealers and vendors,
mostly of "perishable articles," with their regular
customers, on the one hand; and on the other the
dealers in miscellaneous goods, and the hundreds
of men and boys of the working, and what some
people call the "dangerous" classes—irregular
customers—among whom may be seen the real
British "navvy," as good a specimen of humanity
after his kind as one need wish to look upon,
whose Sunday morning costume differs only from
his week-day in having his boots unlaced. To
such as these the New Cut is a Sunday morning
rendezvous and promenade, and they amuse themselves by sauntering up and down the half-mile of
roadway, pipe in mouth, and listening to the
oratorical displays of the vendors of every imaginable kind of wares, useful and ornamental, on
either side of the road.
A writer in the Daily News, in January, 1872,
gives us the following sketch of a Sunday morning in the New Cut:—"On entering the Lower
Marsh from the Westminster Road, on the righthand side are the Lambeth Baths, in which a
temperance meeting is held every Sunday morning.
A platform at one end holds the speakers and
singers, for, to enliven the proceedings, between
each speech some one sings a song to a lively tune,
accompanied by a piano, and the audience—part of
which is seated in the spacious bath, from which
the water has been drawn off—join in the chorus.
There is a continual flow of in-comers and out-goers,
and it may be hoped that the zealous preachers of
temperance now and then really capture and reform
some wretched drunkard, who perhaps 'came in
to scof,' but remained to listen to and profit by
the retailed experiences of the speakers, many of
whom are by no means ashamed to compare their
present good health and comparatively full pockets
to their former broken-down state and poverty,
which was the result of drink. The shops in the
Cut may be stated in round numbers to be about
220, of which about one-half were open for business,
the other half closed, on Sunday morning; while
the stalls and barrows of the costermongers proper,
that is, dealers in 'perishable articles' (and perhaps
including the vendors of the poor man's luxuries—nuts and oranges—which keep to the line of the
gutters), might be reckoned at about 120; while
those of the vendors of non-perishable articles and
the itinerant sellers of all kinds of commodities
might be stated at a somewhat less figure. Among
the latter class may be found the familiar figure of
the old razor-paste man; he is to be met with in
almost every part of the metropolis during the
week, but he is part of the Cut on Sunday. Then
there is the seller of knives at half-price; of slippers,
braces, boots and shoes, and all kinds of wearing
apparel, after its kind. In front of a chemist's
shop a hearty-looking man is retailing sarsaparilla
from a huge bottle, which he holds under the stump
of his left arm (in fact, all that is left), at 1d. per
glass. It will 'cure more disorders than Holloway's
pills and ointment, chase away headaches and
nervous debility, purify the blood, and bring flesh
on the bones.' From the numbers who in the
course of a few minutes paid for their draught and
drank it like men, we can quite believe the statement made by the vendor that he sold more than
a thousand glasses every Sunday morning. . . .
Sufferers from 'the ills the flesh is heir to' are well
cared for in the New Cut. A penny stick of some
green substance, like sealing-wax, will make many
scores of plasters on brown paper, warranted to
cure warts, bunions, and corns. Three plasters
applied for three successive days will eradicate
the worst of corns, but the pain will vanish in
five minutes after the first application. Blisters,
already spread, can be bought by the yard; and
those suffering from toothache can have the offending ivory extracted then and there. The dental
professor wears a velvet cap, ornamented with
about a hundred long-fanged double-teeth, set in
rows, and stands behind a tray, on which are
displayed some half-dozen villanous-looking instruments of extraction, one of which, eminently
terrible, seemed a cross between a pair of lumpsugar nippers and a pair of tongs. In front were
penny bottles of tincture, warranted to cure earache, rheumatism, chilblains, and all kinds of
'rualgias.' The volubility of this professor was
extraordinary in his endeavours to dispose of his
tinctures, but he was far surpassed by the torrents
of eloquence which rushed continuously from the
'doctor' a little higher up, who sold a large box
of pills and a half-pint bottle of sarsaparilla for the
modest sum of threepence. The 'doctor'—really
a clever fellow—did an enormous trade, amply
compensating him for his unsparing expenditure of
eloquence and breath. The result of his medicine
on the scores who purchased it will be much better
felt than described; but it is certain that his
patients have unlimited faith in him and his
therapeutics, which he illustrated occasionally with
a human skull, alleged to be that of an illustrious
murderer, cut into sections, and parts of which
seemed to work on hinges." The writer then
proceeds to describe the bird-dealers, and the
sellers of groundsel and chickweed; the dogfanciers, with their true "doormats" and "mopheads" under their arms; the purveyors of cheap
pictures, ornaments, and toys, &c.; the piled
heaps of dirty women's clothing, upper and under,
which female auctioneers are selling by a process
known as a "Dutch auction." "Sunday morning,"
continues the writer, "is the weekly harvest time
of many of the local shops, notably that of a baker,
who displays on a slab outside most tempting
jam tarts and puffs, purchased eagerly by juveniles
who are the fortunate possessors of a halfpenny.
A hot plum composition, a kind of compromise
between cake and pudding, sold in large blocks,
'meets with a ready demand at fair prices,' and at
its current value must be 'very filling.' Two rival
vendors of this compost at opposite sides of the
street created much amusement by chaffing one
another across the highway, and assuring intending
purchasers that 'this is the right shop;' however,
the owner of a most stentorian voice, for which
natural gift he ought to be thankful, gets the most
custom, according to the rule which seems to
obtain in this transpontine market, that the most
demonstrative and vociferous merchants do the
best trade. There is much good humour, a little
rough horse-play, and some bad language in this
unwashed crowd of buyers, sellers, and idlers;
more of the former and less of the latter than
might be expected, which may possibly be attributed
to the fact that the public-houses do not open till
one o'clock. A few minutes before that hour the
police nod the word, and with almost the quickness
of a transformation scene at the theatre, the costermongers and their barrows, the itinerant traders
and their wares, disappear down the many side
streets, and this mercantile Pandemonium is then
hushed. Idlers gradually disperse, and hot dinners—baked meat and potatoes, the usual wasteful dish
of the English poor—issue from various bakers' and
other shops, reminding even those who unhappily
will not profit by it that this is the poor man's
dinner hour. By half-past one the Cut has resumed
its ordinary aspect, and has become as dull and
quiet, and perhaps as 'respectable,' as Bedford or
Tavistock Squares."
At the corner of the New Cut and Waterloo
Road stands the Victoria Palace Theatre, which we
have described in the preceding chapter. One of
the few subscribers that came forward to back the
scheme for building the Victoria (or, as it was at
first called, the Coburg) Theatre, was one Serres, a
marine painter, whose name became known to the
world through a little piece of Court scandal. He
made interest with Prince Leopold of Saxe Coburg,
and the Princess Charlotte, in order to procure a
licence for its establishment. "Dominic Serres and
his two daughters," observes a writer in a newspaper,
in January, 1837, "lived in a first floor, next to the
fire-engine station, opposite to the stage-door of
the Victoria Theatre. One died there: she was a
short, dumpy woman; the younger was horribly
deaf. Their niece, Johanna, daughter of J. T.
Serres, and Olivia, Duchess of Lancaster, married,
and has children living at the second or third
house in Gibson Street. The surviving aunt has
since gone to live with her." The attempt of the
Serres family to obtain recognition of the title of
Duchess of Lancaster was brought before a court
of law, and finally exposed in 1870, as our readers
will remember. (fn. 4)
On the west side of the Waterloo Road, facing
the Victoria Theatre, is St. Thomas's National and
Infant Schools, where upwards of 300 of the rising
generation are educated. A special service for
policemen has been held here, on stated days, for
some time. This building was for some years used
as a temporary church before the erection of St.
Thomas's Church, in the Westminster Road, nearly
facing St. George's Cathedral. St. Thomas's Church
was built from the design of Mr. S. S. Teulon, and, as
originally designed, exhibited a modification of the
fine Dominican church at Ghent; but the estimates
having been cut down, it has now merely the appearance of a long and broad parallelogram, with
side aisles of two bays towards the east, for galleries,
in addition to the west gallery. The church is
built of brick, and was consecrated in 1857.
BISHOP BONNER'S HOUSE IN 1780. (From an Original Drawing in the Guildhall Library.)
In the map of Ralph Aggas, published in the
second year of Elizabeth's reign, Lambeth Marsh
is open country, and a little dog running at full
pace up and down its open space seems to be its
only inhabitant, and "monarch of all he surveys."
Even in the "new plan" engraved for Northouck's
"History of London" in 1772, a single row of
houses and two or three detached buildings appear
down the centre of the Marsh, together with a few
on the south side; otherwise, all the surrounding districts, as far as Vine Street and Narrow
Wall to the north-west, and Broad Wall and Angel
Street to the east, are marked off as "fields." In
this map, Lambeth Marsh terminates at about the
point where the Waterloo Road now passes it, and
it is continued westward as far as Stangate Street.
Parsons, the actor, lived at a small cottage in the
Vauxhall Road, which he called Frog Hall, in
allusion to the "Marsh," near which it stood.
In Queen Elizabeth's time this marsh does not
seem to have been a desirable place to live in, for
it is coupled by Ben Jonson with "Whitefriars"
and "Pickt Hatch," as a residence of dissolute
characters. In Hone's "Year-Book" we read that
"in Lambeth Marsh Mr. W. Curtis, the eminent
botanical writer, formed the largest collection of
British plants ever brought together into one
place;" but the badness of the air drove him to
more spacious grounds at Brompton.
DRUG MILL OF THE APOTHECARIES' COMPANY. (See Page 418.)
In Lambeth Marsh, too, was the Lyceum of
Erasmus King, the eccentric coachman, and of
Cards, the rival of the eminent natural philosopher,
Dr. Desaguliers. From the force of his master's
example, though he had received only the poorest
education, he came to read lectures and to exhibit
experiments in physics publicly.
We learn from Allen's "History of Surrey," that
in Lambeth Marsh stood, until the beginning of
July, 1823, when it was taken down, an ancient
fragment of a building called Bonner's House,
though much mutilated and altered from what it
appeared a few years before. This is traditionally
said to have been part of a residence of Bishop
Bonner, which formerly extended a considerable
way further in front. "There is nothing in the
history of this place," adds Allen, "to prove that it
belonged to any of the Bishops of London, except
an entry of an ordination in Strype's 'Memorials
of Cranmer,' which mentions the same to have
taken place 'in the chapel of my lord the Bishop
of London in the Lower Marsh, Lambeth.'" In
this instance Strype was in error, and, as he subsequently acknowledged, had inadvertently written
London instead of Rochester. "The ordination,"
says Mr. Tanswell, in his "History of Lambeth,"
"really took place at La Place, the house of John
Hilsey, Bishop of Rochester. The Bishops of
London never had a residence in Lambeth."
In Lower Marsh is the "Spanish Patriot," an
inn which owes its sign to the temporary excitement which arose in 1833, at the time of our proposed intervention in the question of the Spanish
succession.
At the corner of York Street, with its principal
entrance in the Lower Marsh, stands All Saints'
Church, which was erected in 1844–45, from the
designs of Mr. William Rogers, at a cost of about
£6,400. It is in the Anglo-Norman style of
architecture. The principal entrance opens into
a long corridor from a recessed arch, decorated
with zigzag and other mouldings, wrought in the
basement storey of a well-proportioned campanile
tower of three storeys, surmounted by a slender
spire. The interior consists of a nave and aisles,
terminated by a recessed angular chancel, which is
lit in a subdued manner by a semi-dome skylight
filled with stained glass. Attached to the church,
in York Street, are All Saints' National and Infant
Schools, which were opened for the reception of
children in 1854.
Crossing Westminster Bridge Road, we enter
the narrow winding thoroughfare called Lambeth
Upper Marsh. Here, on the left side, between
the Westminster Bridge Road and Stangate Street,
stands the Canterbury Hall, the first music-hall
established in the metropolis, which was opened
by Mr. Charles Morton in the year 1849. "The
Upper Marsh, Westminster Road," writes Mr. J.
E. Ritchie, in the "Night-side of London," "is
what may be called a low neighbourhood. It
is not far from Astley's Theatre. Right through
it runs the South-Western Railway, and everywhere about it are planted pawnbrokers' shops,
with an indescribable amount of dirty second-hand
clothes, and monster gin-palaces, with unlimited
plate-glass and gas-lights. Go along there at what
hour you will, these gin-palaces are full of ragged
children, hideous old women, and drunken men.
The bane and the antidote are thus side by side.
. . . . Let us pass on. A well-lighted entrance attached to a public-house indicates that we
have reached our destination. We proceed up a
few stairs, along a passage, lined with handsome
engravings, to a bar, where we pay sixpence if we
take a seat in the body of the hall, and ninepence
if we ascend into the gallery. We make our way
leisurely along the floor of the building, which is
really a handsome hall, well lighted, and capable
of holding 1,500 persons; the balcony extends
round the room in the form of a horse-shoe. At
the opposite end to that which we enter is the platform, on which are placed a grand piano and a
harmonium, on which the performers play in the
intervals when the professional singers have left
the stage. The chairman sits just beneath them.
It is dull work to him; but there he must sit,
drinking, and smoking cigars, from seven till twelve
o'clock. . . . . The room is crowded, and
almost every gentleman present has a pipe or a
cigar in his mouth. Let us look around us. Evidently the majority present are respectable mechanics or small tradesmen, with their wives and
daughters and sweethearts. Now and then you
see a midshipman, or a few fast clerks and warehousemen. . . . Every one is smoking, and
every one has a glass before him; but the class
that come here are economical, and chiefly confine
themselves to pipes and porter. The presence of
ladies has also a beneficial effect: I see no signs
of intoxication. I may question the worth of some
of the stanzas sung, and I think I may have heard
sublimer compositions, but, compared with many
of the places frequented by both sexes in London,
Canterbury Hall is, in my opinion, a respectable
place; though, to speak seriously, I have my doubts
whether all go home quite sober."
The "Canterbury Arms," a public-house still
existing in "the Marsh," was the foundation of the
Canterbury Hall. Here, at the time when Mr.
Morton took possession of it, was held a "singsong," or harmonic meeting, in a room above the
bar. Mr. Morton gradually expanded this style of
conviviality into a musical entertainment, which,
composed of "operatic selections," together with
sentimental and comic singing by some competent
artistes, soon became a great success. Mr. John
Caulfield was the chairman of the concerts, and
Mr. Ferdinand Jonghmans the musical director,
and the talent was the best that could be procured;
some of the salaries reaching £30 a week. From
time to time enlargements have been made in the
building, and these successive enlargements have
always been carried out without a suspension of
the entertainments. The hall, as it now stands,
will seat some 2,000 persons in its pit, stalls, and
balcony.
With respect to the appellation of the "Canterbury Hall"—a sign, by the way, originally given to
the adjoining tavern in consequence of its contiguity to the archiepiscopal palace, close by—it
was actually "The Canterbury Hall and Fine Arts'
Gallery," for one conspicuous feature in the general
attraction, arising out of Mr. Morton's penchant
for and sound judgment of pictures, was a large
collection of paintings—some of them by the best
modern artists—in a Fine Arts' Gallery, running
parallel to and communicating with the Music
Hall. Punch called this Fine Arts' Gallery "The
Royal Academy over the Water." Still, the Canterbury Hall, as we have stated above, was the parent
of the present music-hall form of entertainment,
and, when it occupied the ground alone, was frequented by large numbers from the West-end.
The present structure, an entirely new building,
has been constructed upon the most approved
principles with regard to ventilation and acoustic
properties; and it has a large and convenient
entrance in the Westminster Bridge Road.
Close by the Canterbury Hall, near the corner
of Stangate Street, is the "Bower Saloon," with its
theatre and music-room, which Mr. J. Timbs speaks
of as being "a pleasure haunt of our own time."
Stangate Street formerly numbered among its
residents no less a personage than Signor Grimaldi,
the father of the Grimaldi who made "Mother
Goose" immortal. "Old Grimaldi," as he was
generally called, in common with most of those
persons who exhilarate the spirits of others, was of
a melancholy, nervous temperament, a ghost-seeker,
and a believer in all sorts of marvellous absurdities.
He often wandered over the then dreary region of
St. George's Fields with an old bibliopolist, detailing and discussing all the superstitious legends
of Germany and Great Britain. A very jolly party
used then to assemble at a tavern in St. James's
Market, and, to dispel Grimaldi's gloom, a friend
took him thither. He soon left the room, saying,
"They laughed so much it made him more melancholy than ever." His bookselling friend lent him
a book called "The Uncertainty of the Signs of
Death," which so excited his mind with a fear of
being buried alive, that in his will he directed that
his daughter should, previous to his interment,
sever his head from his body. The operation was
actually performed in the presence of the daughter,
though not by her hand. As a proof of the morbidity of the signor's mind upon the subject of
interment, he was wont to wander to different
churchyards, as Charles Bannister said, to pick out
a dry spot to lie snug in. He originally invented
the celebrated skeleton scene, since so common in
pantomimes; and first represented the "Cave
of Petrifaction," in which, when any one entered,
he was supposed to be struck at once and for ever
into the position in which he stood when his unhallowed foot first profaned the mysterious locality.
So prone are many minds to jest in public with the
terrors which render their lives burdensome to them
in private.
Carlisle Lane, which runs from Westminster
Bridge Road to the eastern wall of Lambeth Palace,
keeps in remembrance Carlisle House, which stood
here between the thirteenth and sixteenth centuries. It was originally the palace of the Bishops
of Rochester, and was then called La Place; but
afterwards becoming the property of the bishopric
of Carlisle, it was called Carlisle House. Down to
the year 1827, the site of the mansion was occupied
by Carlisle House Boarding School. Early in the
twelfth century, Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, attempted to found a college or monastery
for secular canons on this spot; but this attempt
appears to have been unsuccessful: only a chapel,
which was dedicated to St. Stephen and St. Thomas,
having been erected. Baldwin's successor, Hubert
Walter, entered into a treaty with the Prior of
Rochester (the then owner of the land) for the
whole manor of Lambeth, which was exchanged to
him, he granting to the bishops of that see, out of
it, a piece of ground next to the above-mentioned
chapel, in order to erect an occasional residence
as their town-house. On this ground Gilbert de
Glanville, Bishop of Rochester, erected a house for
himself and his successors, who occasionally resided
there till the sixteenth century. Haymo de Hethe,
who was promoted to the see of Rochester in 1316,
rebuilt the house, which was subsequently called
La Place, till the year 1500, after which the bishops
dated from their "house in Lambeth Marsh." The
last Bishop of Rochester who dwelt in this mansion
was Dr. John Fisher. He was nearly poisoned by
Richard Roose, his cook, who infused a deadly
poison into some soup, which he was making, and
which, as a matter of fact, caused the deaths of
seventeen members of the household, and of two
poor people who had gone to the house for charity.
An appropriate punishment was devised for this
murderous cook, for he was "attainted of high
treason, and boiled to death in Smithfield."
In 1540 Bishop Heath conveyed this house to
the Crown, in exchange for a house in Southwark.
Henry VIII. granted it to Robert Aldrich, Bishop of
Carlisle, and his successors, in exchange for certain
premises in the Strand, on the site now occupied
by Beaufort Buildings. In 1647 it was sold by the
Parliament to Matthew Hardyng; but on the Restoration it reverted to the see of Carlisle. "From
this date," writes Mr. Tanswell, in his "History of
Lambeth," "its history exhibits some remarkable
vicissitudes. On part of the premises a pottery
was established, which existed in George II.'s
time; but going to decay, the kilns and a curious
Gothic arch were taken down, and the bricks used
for filling the space and other defects in the wall.
It was subsequently opened by one Castledine as
a tavern, and became a common stew; and on
his demise it was occupied by Monsieur Froment, a
dancing master, who endeavoured to get it licensed
by the sessions as a public place of entertainment,
but ineffectually, in consequence of the opposition
of Archbishop Secker. It was next tenanted as a
private dwelling; and was afterwards converted
into an academy and boarding-school for young
gentlemen. In the year 1827 it was pulled down,
and the site and grounds covered with about eighty
small houses, including Allen and Homer Streets
and parts of Carlisle Lane and Hercules Buildings.
Before it was built over, the grounds attached to
this house were encompassed by a high and strong
brick wall, which had in it a gate of ancient form,
opening towards Stangate. A smaller back gate
in the south wall had over it two keys in saltire,
and something resembling a mitre for a crest. Two
bricks, one upon the other, served for a shield, and
the workmanship of the arms was of as low a taste
as the materials."
In a garden at Carlisle House
was standing, in the middle of the
last century, a mulberry-tree, which
bore an excellent crop during the
summer of 1753. Its shade was
nearly fifty yards in circumference,
and between four and five hundred
pottles of fruit were gathered off it
in one summer, whilst the ground
all under and around the tree
looked as if soaked with blood,
owing to people treading upon the
fallen fruit.
Another mansion of note here,
in former times, was Norfolk
House, the residence of the old
Earls and Dukes of Norfolk. It
stood in Church Street, on the site
now occupied by Messrs. Hodges'
distillery and a range of buildings
called Norfolk Row. The mansion
remained in the possession of the
Dukes of Norfolk till the commencement of Elizabeth's reign. The old duke, whose life was saved
the night before his intended execution by the
death of Henry VIII., and his son, the Earl of
Surrey, the courtly poet and lover of the fair
Geraldine, both resided here; and the latter studied
here, under John Leland, the antiquary. On the
attainder of Thomas Howard, the third Duke of
Norfolk of this family, the house was seized by the
Crown, and granted by Edward VI, in fee to
William Parr, Marquis of Northampton, by the
title of "a capital mansion or house in Lambehith,
late parcel of the possessions of Thomas, Duke of
Norfolk, and twenty and a half acres of land in
Cotman's Field; one acre in St. George's Field
upon Sandhill; six acres of meadow and marsh in
Lambehithe Marsh, whereof three acres were within
the wall of the marsh, and three acres without; one
close, called Bell Close, abutting upon Cotman's
Field towards the east, containing one and a half
acre; one other close, abutting upon the way leading from Lambehithe to the Marsh, containing two
acres and a half."
THE CHEVALIER D'EON. (From an Old Caricature.)
In Walcot Place, near Lambeth Walk, the
notorious Mrs. George Anne Bellamy, after a life
of profligacy and splendour, spent her declining
years in poverty. In her "Memoirs" she tells us
how that, having parted with all her jewellery and
most of her clothes, and maddened with want, she
walked out into St. George's Fields, "not without
the hope of meeting with some freebooters who
frequent those lawless parts, and who would take
away the life of which she was so
weary;" and how, disappointed in
this, she made her way to the steps
of Westminster Bridge to throw
herself into the Thames, when she
was recalled to her senses by
finding a poor woman with her
child worse off than herself. Mrs.
Bellamy took her final leave of the
stage in 1784, and died in poverty
in February, 1788.
Of the "wells" and tea-gardens
in Lambeth Walk we have spoken
in a previous chapter; but there
was here, in times gone by, one
other object which we should not
omit to mention: this was the old
mill belonging to the Apothecaries'
Company, for grinding and pounding their drugs, &c. The mill,
which stood here long before the
introduction of steam into the
working of machinery, was a picturesque structure, built chiefly of wood, and with
its "sails" had something of the appearance of
an old-fashioned flour-mill. We give an engraving
of this mill on page 415.
In the Westminster Bridge Road, under the
arches of the South-Western Railway, is the London
terminus of the Great Woking Cemetery, belonging
to the London Necropolis Company. The company
was established by Act of Parliament, by which the
Lord Lieutenant of Middlesex, the Lord Lieutenant
of Surrey, the Bishop of London, the Bishop of
Winchester, and the Chief Commissioners of Her
Majesty's Woods and Forests, are appointed visitors.
"Within a quarter of a mile of Westminster Bridge,"
then, as the Company announce in their advertisement, we have, "to all intents and purposes, a
cemetery of 400 acres." A train starts at the Westminster Bridge Road to the cemetery at Woking
daily, "thus avoiding a long transit by road, and
securing all the benefits of extramural interment."
We have already made mention of the chief offices
of the London Necropolis Company in our account
of Lancaster Place, Strand. (fn. 5)
At a house called the "Crown," on the Surrey
side of Westminster Bridge, was born, in 1735,
Dr. Martin Van Butchell, the eccentric physician,
whom we have mentioned in our account of Mount
Street. (fn. 6) Another eccentric resident in the Westminster Bridge Road, in former times, was the
Chevalier D'Eon, concerning whom there was so
much doubt raised as to whether he was a man or
a woman. Angelo, in his "Reminiscences," tells
us that he used to see the Chevalier D'Eon here.
"He lived a few doors beyond Astley's Theatre.
He always dressed in black silk, and looked like a
woman worn out with age and care."
At the foot of Westminster Bridge, and extending along the bank of the river towards Lambeth
Palace, is the new St. Thomas's Hospital, of the
foundation of which, close by London Bridge,
and its recent migration to the Surrey Gardens,
we have already spoken. (fn. 7) The institution was removed hither in 1870–71. The ground on which
the hospital stands—between eight and nine acres
in extent—was purchased from the Board of Works,
at a cost of about £100,000. That part of the
Thames known as Stangate Bank, where the hospital now stands, had long borne an ill repute—illlooking, ill-smelling, and of evil associations. Even
the construction of the Houses of Parliament on
the opposite shore—even the building of the handsomest bridge in Europe; that of Westminster—failed to redeem the hideous aspect of its fore-shore,
overladen as it was with dank tenements, rotten
wharves, and dirty boat-houses. But the time came
when it was decided to construct the Southern
Thames Embankment, and the necessities of its
formation compelled a large "reclamation" from
the slimy fore-shores. Of the whole site of the
present St. Thomas's Hospital, nearly half of it,
therefore, has been reclaimed from the mud of the
river. The buildings have a frontage of about
1,700 feet in length, and are about 250 feet in
depth. The hospital consists of no less than eight
distinct buildings, or pavilions. Six in the centre
are for patients; that at the north end, next to
Westminster Bridge, is for the officers of the hospital, board-room, &c.; that at the south for a
museum, lecture-room, and school of medicine.
The style of the buildings may be called Palladian,
with rich facings of coloured bricks and Portland
stone. There was some difficulty in getting a good
foundation for the buildings, as there always is at
Westminster or its neighbourhood; and towards the
river front a depth of twenty-eight feet had to be
excavated before the firm clay was reached. On
this a solid basis of concrete was laid, and on this
again, on massive brick piers, the structure was
begun. The blocks are built at a distance of 125
feet from each other. Though the blocks are each
distinct buildings, they are all, in fact, coupled
together by a double corridor, one of which runs
along the river front to the west, and one along the
eastern face, near the gardens of Lambeth Palace.
This latter corridor is entirely glazed in, and has a
solid roof, with a balcony, which can be used either
as a promenade in fine weather for patients, or,
what it is really built for, an easy means of access
to the second floors of the hospital, with all of
which it communicates. The front corridor is a
very handsome stone arcade, but open on its
western side towards the Thames. This is used
as a promenade for the patients who are recovering,
and a most pleasant walk it is; for the front of the
hospital, towards the river—and, indeed, the back
as well—is laid out in gardens and planted with
trees.
Each pavilion has three tiers of wards above the
ground floor, and in the first five pavilions the
main wards occupy the whole building on the river
side of the corridor. They are 28 feet in width,
120 feet in length, and 15 feet in height, with flat
ceilings throughout, and each have accommodation
for twenty-eight beds, with a cubic capacity of
1,800 feet for each patient. This capacity is largely
due to the ample floor space, which affords abundant
room for the attendance of students and for the
requirements of clinical teaching. The beds are
placed eight feet apart from centre to centre, and
the windows are arranged alternately with the beds,
at a level to enable the patients to look out of them.
There are also large end lights communicating
with sheltered balconies towards the river, in which
patients may be placed on couches or chairs in
fine weather. On the ground floor there are
smaller wards, which are used chiefly for the reception of accidents, and which make up the total
number of beds in each pavilion to about 100. At
the corridor end of each large ward the entrance
passage is carried between smaller rooms, a ward
kitchen, a sisters'-room, a consultation-room, and
a small ward. These small wards are for the
reception of patients who have undergone severe
operations, or who for any reason require unusual
quietude or exceptional treatment. At the river
end there is a lateral projection at each angle of
the pavilion; and these projections contain on
one side a bath-room and lavatory, on the other
side a scullery and offices, all cut off from the
wards themselves by intercepting lobbies. Natural
ventilation has been as much as possible depended
on, with simple auxiliary arrangements for cold and
boisterous nights. The warming is effected mostly
by open fire-places, as the most healthy mode,
with the addition of a warm-water system for use
in very cold weather. It is, perhaps, almost needless to say that the whole structure is fire-proof.
The floors of each storey are laid on iron girders
covered with concrete, the actual upper floor of
each ward being made of thin, broad planks of
oak. The walls of each ward, too, are coated with
Parian cement, which, while not so cold, is almost
as hard and non-absorbent of noxious gases, and
quite as smooth, as marble itself.
ST. THOMAS'S HOSPITAL.
THE ENTRANCE-HALL, ST. THOMAS'S HOSPITAL.
Four of these great hospital blocks which we
have described, each 90 feet high by about 250
feet deep, are set apart for the reception of male
patients. These are on the north side of the
central hall; the two on the southern side are for
women only. On each side there is a large
operating theatre for men and women, capable of
containing 600 students with ease whenever an
important operation draws such a number together.
With these theatres the covered corridors communicate directly from the wards. There is a special
wing, if we may so term it, set apart in one of the
northern blocks, and adjoining the matron's residence, which is used for the training of skilled
nurses, whose services, as they become thoroughly
proficient in their duties, are made available as
matrons in hospitals all over the kingdom, through
the agency of the Council of the Nightingale Fund.
The "pupil nurses," who must be well-educated,
intelligent young women, from twenty-three to
thirty-five years of age, are trained here for one
year in the practice of hospital nursing, and are
provided during that time with comfortable home,
board, uniform clothing, and small salary. At the
end of the year, if qualified, they may expect good
situations as hospital nurses, with liberal wages,
usually commencing at £20.
The low building at the end nearest Lambeth
Palace is the medical school. The admission fees
for medical students, for unlimited attendance at
practice and lectures, is 100 guineas; for dental
students (for two years), £45. Special entries may
be made to any lectures or to hospital practice,
and a modified scale of fees is arranged for students
entering in second or subsequent years. There
are special classes for the first M.B. and preliminary scientific examinations of the University of
London, and private classes for matriculation and
other examinations. Gentlemen can attend the
above classes without becoming students to the
hospital. Qualified practitioners are admitted to
the hospital practice, lectures, and library, on payment of ten guineas for unlimited attendance.
Two scholarships founded here perpetuate the
names of Alderman Sir John Musgrove and Sir
William Tite; there are also several college prizes,
ranging from £5 to £20, and also awards of silver
and gold medals. Two house physicians and two
assistant house physicians, two house surgeons and
two assistant house surgeons, and the resident
accoucheur, are selected from students holding
qualifications; an ophthalmic assistant, with a
salary of £50, is appointed; clinical clerks and
dressers to in and out patients are selected from
gentlemen attending the hospital; two registrars,
at an honorarium of £40 each, are chosen from
third or fourth year's students. There are also
numerous minor appointments of anatomical assistants, prosestors, obstetric clerks, &c., open to the
students without charge.
The entrance-hall, facing the new Lambeth
Palace Road, is a large and spacious apartment.
In it is a statue of the Queen, by whom the foundation-stone of the hospital was laid in 1868, and the
building opened in 1871. The statue, which was
executed by Mr. Noble, is sculptured out of a block
of pure white Carrara marble, and weighs five tons.
The Queen is represented seated on a state chair,
in her full robes of state, holding the sceptre in
her right hand and the orb in the left hand. The
left arm rests upon an arm of the chair, the right
hand being brought forward and resting in the lap.
The feet rest upon a footstool, and are, to some
extent, hidden by drapery. The likeness of Her
Majesty is admitted to be excellent. The pedestal
upon which the statue stands is of Sicilian marble,
beautifully moulded and carved, with panels in the
centre on each side. The front portion of the
pedestal has a circular projection, and within the
panel immediately under the statue is the following
inscription:—"Her Majesty Queen Victoria. The
gift of Sir John Musgrove, Bart., President, 1873."
There is a chapel which affords sittings for more
than 300 persons; there are large and spacious
surgeries and dispensers' offices, with ample house
accommodation for chaplains, resident surgeons,
dressers, &c. Altogether, the hospital can make
up 650 beds for patients; and contains, from first
to last, in all its wards, houses, out-offices, kitchens,
sculleries, stores, and cellars, nearly 1,000 distinct
compartments. The mortuary-house and museum
are close by the medical school, at the extreme
southern end. The extreme northern end abuts
close upon the Surrey side of Westminster Bridge;
in fact, there is an opening by a flight of steps
which gives direct access from the abutment to the
north end of the hospital buildings which rise above
it. All the structures occupy together about four
acres, leaving four and a half acres laid out as
garden ground, in parterres and thick plantations,
for the use and recreation of the patients. The
out-patients do not enter the hospital proper at
all, but come by the new Palace Road, at the east
end of the buildings, and pass at once into the
men's or women's waiting-rooms; and these again
are sub-divided into medical and surgical departments.
Altogether, the plan of St. Thomas's Hospital
may be considered perfect; and though it cost in
all at least half a million of money, it is a cheap
outlay for the good it is certain to effect for ages
to come. As an addition to the great public
edifices of the metropolis, it certainly will not be
surpassed in appearance by any of the splendid
structures which of late years have done so much
to enrich and improve London.
As stated above, the space between the grounds
of St. Thomas's Hospital and the river, extending
from Westminster to Lambeth Bridges, a distance
of 2,200 feet, is filled in by a good solid embankment, which was commenced in 1866, and opened
for pedestrians in the space of about two years.
The work, called the Albert Embankment, which
is continued beyond Lambeth Bridge, as far as the
site of the London Gas Works, 2,100 feet higher
up the river, was carried out by the Metropolitan
Board of Works, under the direction of Sir Joseph
Bazalgette, their engineer-in-chief; and it forms part
of the great design of embanking the Thames in its
course through London, 'which we have described
in a previous part of this work. (fn. 8) Although open
only for foot-passengers, the Albert Embankment
is precisely similar in its construction, as seen from
the river, to the Victoria and Chelsea Embankments
on the Middlesex side of the river. Turning down
the embankment stairs, at the foot of the northern
end of St. Thomas's Hospital, the pedestrian has
before him the finest footway in London, but a
footway only. When he has walked along this for
rather more than a quarter of a mile, let him stop
and look back. If it be a fairly clear day, clear
enough for him to see across the river and as far
as the bridge, he may admire one of the finest
architectural views in London: all the finer if a
flood-tide and a fleet of barges and steamers fill
the river with life. The scene at this point has
been thus described by a writer in the Times.
Having, in imagination, conducted the pedestrian
to this spot, he proceeds:—" The Thames, 'without
o'erflowing, full,' (fn. 9) spreads at his feet, fenced in and
spanned by three great public works, the Houses of
Parliament, Westminster Bridge, and St. Thomas's
Hospital, forming, as it were, three sides of a
hollow square. Of the long and stately front of
the Houses of Parliament, surmounted by the great
clock and flag towers and graceful intermediate
pinnacles; of the symmetrical lines of the arches
and piers of the bridge rising out of the water, with
their massive and eternal look, he has, of course, a
full view. The colonnaded blocks of the great
hospital, which towered above him as he walked,
and seemed so much vaster than he had any idea
they were till he came close under them, will be
seen—and perhaps it is as well—rather en profile.
He will acknowledge that, all stained as it is, the
river has something to thank the City for. When
Spenser could sing to it and call it 'silver streaming,' its banks hereabouts and lower down had
little to grace them besides
'Those bricky towers
Where now the studious lawyers have their bowers.'
The fish have died out of it, and, higher up, the
swans cannot keep themselves white; but in
Spenser's day the Thames did not wear such a
tiara as that bridge, it did not roll its waters
smoothly between granite walls, and Westminster
and Lambeth did not look down on it so proudly
as they do now with their Houses of Parliament
and hospital. These are great and costly works,
and a little farther on the picturesque battlements
of the Archbishop of Canterbury's half-house, halfcastle, with the dreary, heavy-capped turrets of
Millbank, will give him an opportunity of quoting
Byron's incorrect line—
'A palace and a prison on each hand.'"
Attempts at gardening have been made on the
Albert Embankment, in the vicinity of Lambeth
Palace, but not with the success attending that
carried out on the northern side of the river. Trees,
too, have been planted; but in the course of a few
years the whole of those from Lambeth Bridge (fn. 10)
westwards had to be removed, the reason assigned
being that the exhalations from the adjacent potteries had destroyed their vitality.
The Southern Embankment of the Thames is
not, as we have shown in a previous chapter, (fn. 11) a
new scheme. In the "History of London," by
Fearnside and Harral, published in 1839, it is
stated that "a proposition has received the City's
approval for a splendid quay from London to
Vauxhall. This, if carried into effect, will render
the banks of old Father Thames unrivalled for
beauty and convenience, and approach a little
towards the Parisian method of managing these
matters." The primary object in embanking the
Thames, particularly on the southern side, was to
prevent the recurrence of floods, in consequence
of a great part of Lambeth and Southwark lying
much below the level of the river at hig-hwater
mark; but this having been carried out no farther
eastward than Westminster Bridge, has left matters
much in the same condition as they were before,
or possibly worse: for since the construction of
the Victoria Embankment it is asserted that considerably more damage has been done in the lowlying districts than was the case before by the river
overflowing its banks so much more frequently.
A Select Committee of the House of Commons in
1876 reported that the Embankment of the southern
side of the Thames was a matter, not of local but
of metropolitan importance, and that, as such, it
ought to be taken in hand by the Metropolitan
Board of Works. This task, however, the Board
declined, and consequently the local authorities became naturally embarrassed. Some private owners
of property abutting upon the river have at times
executed works for the purpose of preventing any
expected overflow; but these have been only of a
temporary character. In a memorial of the inhabitants of Lambeth, presented to the Home
Secretary since the above refusal on the part of the
Board of Works, the memorialists held that, irrespective of any pecuniary question, "not only what is
necessary in the present, but what may be necessary
and desirable in the future, renders it expedient that
the whole bank of the river should be under the
control of a metropolitan authority, so that uniformity and completeness may be secured, and the
metropolis may derive the fullest advantage from
any public expenditure. The prevention of tidal
overflows being declared to be a matter of metropolitan concern, can be dealt with only by an
authority representing the metropolis; and, as the
Metropolitan Board declines to accept the resolution of the Select Committee, your memorialists
have no alternative but to approach the Government, and to pray for relief from the present deadlock by the prompt passing of a Bill, framed in
accordance with the resolution of the Select Committee." It is to be hoped, in the interests of
common humanity, that Parliament will enforce
its decision on this head without delay.
Among the causes which have contributed to the
growth of Lambeth, we must mention the manufactories which have been founded here at various
times, forming centres of active industry, and consequently of population. More than 200 years ago,
two Dutchmen established a pottery, and about the
middle of the last century two other potteries were
opened here. The chief work in this line now
carried on in Lambeth is at the pottery of the
Messrs. Doulton, the producers of the celebrated
Lambeth faience, and whose name is worthy of
record as the revivers, in the last few years, of the
manufacture of Flemish and German stoneware,
which promise to make the name of Lambeth celebrated once more in the annals of art. They are
also the revivers of the white cream-coloured ware,
known as Queen's Ware, from the fact that Queen
Charlotte admired it so much when manufactured
by Wedgwood. "It is not many years ago,"
observes a writer in the Queen newspaper (1876),
"since Messrs. Doulton, of Lambeth, began their
career as art potters, having until then only been
celebrated for chimney-pots, drain-pipes, ink and
blacking bottles. And a marvellous success they
have achieved in this short space of time. Everybody knows their admirable imitation of Gris de
Flandres, surface-etched and embossed, tinted in
colours which equal those on the ancient ware.
Their terra-cotta ornaments are the delight of
architects, not only for their lasting properties,
which will stand even an English climate for
centuries, but equally so for their decorative merits.
. . . . The great artistic feature of Lambeth
faience seems to lie in the direction of landscape
and figure painting; and the success which has
been achieved in this direction, it may be added,
is mainly due to the Lambeth School of Art, which
has long been carried on under the fostering care
of the great river-side potters."
Established in the year 1854 by the Rev. William
Gregory, then vicar of St. Mary's, Lambeth, as a
branch of the Central School of Design at Marlborough House, this was really the first Art School
of Design in the kingdom: as, indeed, it should be.
The Lambeth school went on steadily increasing
until 1860, when the Prince of Wales laid the
foundation-stone of the present building. Since
that time, the exertions of its director, Mr. John
Sparks, have been unremitting in educating painters
and modellers for Messrs. Doulton's works. With
sound psychological judgment, he selected his
pupils from the fair sex, well knowing the natural
artistic feeling of women and girls would lighten
his arduous task of reviving an art-industry once
before flourishing in the very same locality, but
long forgotten. Besides, by excluding foreigners
from his school, he wanted to prove that there is
exquisite taste and endless inventive power latent
in Englishmen and Englishwomen, which only
want bringing out by proper teaching and training.
"Our English hands," he says, in one of his lectures,
"are as skilful, our heads as clear, our thoughts as
poetical, our lives as high, as any other people's;
and still we find French modellers giving the work
of the largest Staffordshire potters an European
fame; French modellers making the works of our
great silversmiths and electrotypists; Belgian stonecarvers cutting Romanism into Protestant reredos;
and Germans, whose name is Legion, and whose
motto is 'Ubique,' filling our drawing-offices all
over the country." "These things should not be,"
concludes Mr. Sparks; and that they need not be
he has proved through his pupils' achievements in
Lambeth faience.
Besides the potteries, the principal manufactures
of this parish are white lead, shot, glass, &c.; but
none have been so celebrated as the Vauxhall
plate-glass. In the thirteenth century the Venetians
were the only people who had the secret of making
looking-glasses; but about the year 1670 a number
of Venetian artists having arrived in England,
headed by one Rosetti, and under the patronage
of the Duke of Buckingham, a manufactory was
established at Vauxhall, and carried on with such
success, by the firm of Dawson, Bowles, and Co.,
as to excel the Venetians or any other nation in
blown plate-glass. Evelyn, in his "Diary," records a
visit which he paid to this establishment. Under
date of 19th September, 1676, he writes:—"To
Lambeth, to that rare magazine of marble, to take
order for chimney-pieces for Mr. Godolphin's house.
The owner of the works had built for himself a
pretty dwelling-house; this Dutchman had contracted with the Genoese for all their marble. We
also saw the Duke of Buckingham's glass works,
where they make huge vases of mettal as cleare,
ponderous, and thick as chrystal; also lookingglasses far larger than any that come from Venice."
The emoluments acquired by the proprietors of
the above-mentioned establishment are stated to
have been very large; but in the year 1780, in
consequence of a difference between them and
the workmen, a total stop was put to this great
manufactory, and a descendant of Rosetti ungratefully left in poverty. The site of this celebrated
factory is now covered by Vauxhall Square.
Pennant records, in terms of high approval, Mr.
Coade's manufacture of artificial stone, carried on
in the street called Narrow Wall, of which we have
already made mention. (fn. 12) He likewise describes
Lambeth as remarkable for another and altogether
different branch of industry, namely, the manufacture
of English wines, and also for the growth of the
vines from which they were made. He writes:—"The genial banks of the Thames opposite to our
capital yield almost every species of white wine;
and by a wondrous magic, Messrs. Beaufoy here
pour forth the materials for the rich Frontiniac,
destined to the more elegant tables, the Madeira,
the Caleavella, and the Lisbon, into every part of
the kingdom. . . . The foreign wines are
most admirably mimicked." We have already
spoken of the growth of vines and the manufacture
of wine in London, in our account of Vine Street,
Piccadilly. (fn. 13) From an entry in Pepys' "Diary,"
in 1661, this place seems at one time to have been
equally famous for its ale; at all events, we here
read how that the genial Secretary of the Admiralty went "out with Mr. Shepley and Alderman
Backwell to drink Lambeth ale."
Another thriving branch of industry connected
with Lambeth, in which employment is given to a
large number of hands, is the doll manufactory of
Messrs. Edwards, in Waterloo Road. Then, again,
various chemical, soap, and bone-crushing works
have also been established; and Maudslay's engineering works in the Westminster Bridge Road, on
the site of the old Apollo Gardens, (fn. 14) have become
a centre of industry.
Among the "noted residents" in Lambeth, not
already mentioned by us, were Mr. and Mrs.
Zachary Macaulay, the parents of Lord Macaulay,
who occupied a small house here for the first year
of their married life; their illustrious son, however,
was born, not in Lambeth, but in Leicestershire.
Here, too, at one time lived, in Lambeth Road,
the eccentric artist, George Morland, whom we have
already introduced to our readers at Paddington. (fn. 15)
He was most clever in his delineation of cottage
interiors and low hostelries, with their accessories
of donkeys, pigs, &c.; and it is recorded of him
that at Lambeth he had several four-footed lodgers,
including one of the long-eared tribe.
John Timbs, in his "Clubs and Club Life," says
that the Stanleys at one time had a house here, and
that the "Eagle and Child," the sign of an adjoining
inn, is really taken from the crest of the family.
Guy Fawkes, too, it is said, had a house in
Lambeth, where he and his fellows in the "Gunpowder Plot" stored their ammunition. If this
really was ever the case, its site is forgotten.
It is to be feared that the accommodation for
the poor in parts of this parish is, or was in 1874,
most disgracefully inadequate; for, if we may trust
Dr. Stallard's work on "London Pauperism," a
man, his wife, and three children were found occupying a front room, only twelve feet square, within
a few yards of Westminster Bridge Road.
In a previous chapter we have enumerated the
wards or districts into which the parish of Lambeth
is divided; (fn. 16) we may here add that, in conformity
with the provisions of the Reform Bill, passed in
1832, Lambeth was one of the four metropolitan
parishes which was erected into a Parliamentary
borough, since which period it has regularly returned two members to St. Stephen's. At that
time the number of the inhabitants was 87,856.
In the course of the next twenty years this had
expanded to 116,072; and at the time of taking
the census in 1871 the population numbered no
less than 380,000. Lambeth has returned, at all
events, two distinguished members to St. Stephen's—the Right Hon. Charles Tennyson D'Eyncourt,
and Sir Benjamin Hawes, the son of a great soapboiler, who was one of its first representatives,
and retained his seat for the borough for fifteen
years. Another of its members, Mr. William
Roupell, who was elected in the year 1857, subsequently acquired some celebrity—but not of a
very enviable kind; for having been convicted of
forgery, he was transferred to a convict prison.
In 1877, under an Act of Parliament and an
Order in Council, Lambeth, as well as its neighbour
Southwark, was made to form part of the diocese
of Rochester.
From these dry prosaic matters to the realms of
fancy the change is refreshing. We will, therefore,
conclude this chapter by reminding the reader of
the dream of Charles Lamb, in his essay on
"Witches and other Night Fears." He dreams
that, having been riding "upon the ocean billows
at some sea-nuptials," he found the waves gradually subsiding into what he calls "a river motion,"
and that the river was "no other than the gentle
Thames, which landed him, in the wafture of a
placid wave or two, alone, safe, and inglorious,
somewhere at the foot of Lambeth Palace." Thither
we will now proceed.
LAMBETH PALACE, FROM MILLBANK, IN 1860.