Chronicles of London Bridge

by Richard Thompson

‘So hypochondriac fancies represent
Ships, Armies, Battles, in the firmament;
Till steadier eyes the exhalations solve,
And all to its first matter, clouds, resolve!’”

“Truly, Mr. Barbican,” answered the Antiquary, as I concluded, “truly, Sir, I should never have divined that you had any dislike to dull reflections, had you not yourself assured me so; but now if you will pledge me in another draught of sack, I’ll furnish you with a new scene of London Bridge, from the pencil of an eminent foreigner, as it appeared in May, 1663. This is selected from the very amusing ‘Voyages de Mons. de Monconys,’ and the best edition of his book is that bearing the imprint of Paris, though it was in reality published at Lyons, in 1695, duodecimo. In the second volume of this work, and on page 14 of the part relating to England, he thus speaks of London Bridge. ‘After having passed this place,’—that is Greenwich, which the Author calls Grenuche,—‘we soon came to London, of which the length is truly incredible; but more than two thirds of the River sides are occupied by warehouses and very small buildings of wood, even upon the Bridge, at the foot of which, on the City side, is a large edifice erected wholly of wood, without any iron, which seems to be of hewn stone it is so regularly built. At the other extremity of the Bridge, above the towers of a castle, are many of the heads of the murderers of King Charles.’ On page 21, M. Monconys is speaking of the ‘bots’—boats,—which formerly plied on the Thames to carry persons to the City, or Westminster, by way of avoiding the rude English coaches, and the ruder paved streets of London: ‘They never,’ says he, ‘go below the Bridge; although there is not any place to which they cannot be had, but it is considered dangerous for these small boats to go under the Bridge when the tide is running up, for the water has then an extreme rapidity, even greater than when it is returning, and the two currents are united.’ On page 121, in mentioning his visit to the Tower, he states that neither in going nor returning did his boat pass under the Bridge; for the tide being running up, there was a fall of more than two feet. The passengers left the boat, crossed to the other side of the Bridge, and then re-entered it: whilst the watermen, he adds, had no difficulty in descending the fall, but a great deal in mounting up it again.

“It has been reported, that during the awful time when London was being devastated by the terrible Plague of 1665, the inhabitants of the Bridge were free from its ravages; which is attributed to the ceaseless rushing of the river beneath it. I have not yet discovered, however, the least foundation for such a tradition in any of the numerous publications which appeared concerning the pestilence; and, indeed, the only place in which I find this edifice at all mentioned, is in that terrible volume attributed to Daniel Defoe, and called ‘A Journal of the Plague Year, by a Citizen who continued all the while in London;’ London, 1722, octavo, where, on page 255, when speaking of the fires made in the streets for clearing the air after the pestilence, he says, ‘I do not remember whether any was at the City gates, but one at the Bridge foot there was, just by St. Magnus’ Church.’

“I cannot imagine, Mr. Geoffrey Barbican, that in the fearful conflagration of London, which occurred between the night of Saturday and the morning of Sunday, the 2nd of September, 1666, the Bridge suffered in any proportion to the rest of the City; for I have already shewn you, from Strype’s Stow’s ‘Survey,’ that some of the original houses of King John’s time, were subsequently standing at the Southwark end. I attribute this preservation to the vacancy opposed to the flames at the North end of the Bridge; but as the fire forms so memorable an epoch in the history of London, I shall bring before you some evidence concerning its actual effect upon this building. ‘’Twas at still midnight,’ says one of the most particular accounts of it extant, ‘when all was wrapt in a peaceful silence, and every eye shut up in quiet slumber, that this dreadfull fire brake forth, whose hidden flames at first obscurely crept within close limits; but quickly scorning to be so confined, in a bright blaze brake openly upon us. And now the voice of fire in every street—with horrid emphasis,—is echoed forth: these dreadfull screems disturb our midnight quiet, and raise affrighted people from their beds, who, scarce awake, all seems to be a dream. Each one appears but as a moving statue, as once Lot’s wife, viewing her flaming Sodom, transformed into a pillar: a powerfull wind aided these raging flames, which, like a growing foe, increaseth still.’ Such is the commencement of a broadside, entitled ‘A Short Description of the fatal and dreadfull Burning of London; divided into every day and night’s progression. Composed by Samuel Wiseman;’ but yet this most particular sheet relates nothing concerning the Bridge. We have, however, some little information in a narrative written by Thomas Vincent,—a non-conformist Minister, who was ejected from the living of St. Mary Magdalen, in Milk-street;—and called ‘God’s terrible Judgements in the City, by Plague and Fire.’ Now, says the Author, it ‘rusheth down the hill towards the Bridge; crosseth Thames-street, invadeth St. Magnus’ Church at the Bridge-foot; and, though that Church were so great, yet it was not a sufficient barricado against this Conqueror; but, having scaled and taken this fort, it shooteth flames with so much the greater advantage into all places round about; and a great building of houses upon the Bridge is quickly thrown to the ground: then the conqueror, being stayed in his course at the Bridge, marcheth back to the City again, and runs along with great noise and violence through Thames-street, Westward.’ The minute and pathetic narrative of the accomplished John Evelyn, adds nothing to these particulars; for he says only in his ‘Diary,’ edit. 1818, volume i., page 375, on September the 7th, upon the destruction of certain houses erected about the Tower, if they had ‘taken fire and attacked the White Tower, where the magazine of powder lay, they would undoubtedly not only have beaten and destroyed all y^e Bridge, but sunke and torne the vessells in y^e River.’ The report of Samuel Pepys, in his ‘Diary,’ already quoted, does not give us much additional information; though he tells us in volume i., page 445, that on the morning of the 2nd, he went on the Tower battlements, whence he saw ‘the houses at that end of the Bridge all on fire; and an infinite great fire on this and the other side the end of the Bridge, which, with other people, did trouble me for poor little Michell and our Sarah on the Bridge.’ He subsequently adds that the fire increased on both sides the North end of London Bridge, but there is nothing said farther concerning its attack upon the edifice itself.

“There are several prospects of this dreadful conflagration, though few of them are worthy of any credit, most having been executed in Holland; and it is probable, indeed, that the best was a small and spirited etching by Wenceslaus Hollar, measuring 7 inches by 2¾, and inserted on the right hand side of ‘A New and Exact Map of Great Britaine. Published by John Overton, at the White Horse, without Newgate. 1667.’ Single sheet. This view is taken from Hollar’s old observatory, the tower of St. Mary Overies Church; and represents the fire spreading furiously Westward, whilst the Bridge appears untouched. This fine little print you will find to be the first illustration in volume ii. of Mr. Crowle’s Pennant in the Print Room of the British Museum; and it is entitled ‘Prospect of the Citty of London, as it appeared in the time of its flames:’ it has frequently sold for 10s. 6d., and sometimes for 15s., even without the plate it belongs to. Hollar’s long view of the City immediately after the conflagration, I have already mentioned; and in that we see with much more certainty the actual damage sustained by our unhappy old edifice, in the Ruins of the Riverside and Bridge after the Fire.

“The alteration appears chiefly to consist in the destruction of that large square building, which terminated the Northern end of the Bridge; and, of course, the entire demolition of the wooden pales and passage, which had been erected after the fire of 1633; but beyond this the flames do not seem to have penetrated. The banks of the River, indeed, presented a more entire picture of ruin. Of the grand Church of St. Magnus nothing remained but some of the walls, and the buildings in front of it were destroyed even to the water’s edge; whilst on the Western side of the Bridge, the Water-works and Tower, numerous houses lining the River, and the ancient edifice of Fishmongers’ Hall, were reduced either to smouldering fragments, scarcely bearing even the forms of what they once had been, or else had not one stone left upon another. ‘The Long Antwerp View of London,’ which has been already so minutely described, furnishes us with a good representation of Fishmongers’ Hall before the Fire of 1666;

and it appears to have been a plain narrow edifice, castellated and covered with lead on the top, having two principal stories, the lower one of which had a kind of gallery or balcony, an ornament which was very common to buildings in this part of London. The Companies of the Salt-fish and Stock-fish mongers were anciently possessed of so many as six Halls; of which two stood in New Fish-street, now called Fish-street Hill; two more were in Old Fish-street, and two others were erected in Thames-street; in each place one for each Company. These, however, were all united in the year 1536, the 28th of Henry the Eighth; after which they were to have but one Hall, namely, the house given to them by Sir John Cornwall, afterwards created Baron Fanhope, in 1427, the 6th year of Henry VI., which I take to have been the building represented in the print; since Stow, in his ‘Survey,’ volume i., page 499, from whom we derive these few particulars, says that it was in the Parish of St. Michael, Crooked Lane: and adds on the preceding page, that ‘Fishmongers’ Hall, with other fair houses for merchants, standeth about midway between the Bridge foot and Ebgate, or Old Swan-lane.’ Still more brief, however, are the notices, which he furnishes us concerning the Company’s other Halls, which once stood about the same spot. ‘On the West side of this Ward,’—says the old Citizen,—‘at the North end of London Bridge, is a part of Thames-street, which is also of this Ward, to wit, so much as of old time was called Stock-Fishmonger Row,’—a place, you will remember, referred to in that manuscript Survey of Bridge lands which I some time since recited to you—‘of the Stock-fishmongers dwelling there, down West to a Water-gate, of old time called Ebgate, since Ebgate Lane, and now the Old Swan.’ I will not enter into the history of the Fishmongers’ Company, Mr. Barbican, because it does not belong to our present subject, and you may read the chief particulars for yourself, in Stow’s ‘Survey,’ volume i., page 498, and volume ii., page 268; and shall therefore only add a very few particulars concerning the present Hall. According to the splendid plan of Sir Christopher Wren, for adorning the banks of the Thames, it presents to the river, a handsome, though somewhat old-fashioned front of red brick, having the windows ornamented with stone cases. From the wharf on which the Shades’ Tavern is situate, a grand double flight of stone steps leads to the chief apartments; and the door is decorated with Ionic columns supporting an open pediment, containing a shield with the Company’s Arms, all of stone. I shall say nothing, however, of the handsome North front of this building, its spacious court-yard, and its beautiful carved gateway in Thames-street; nor yet of the rich state chambers, their fine paintings of fish, their massive and richly-chased silver branches, their large brazen chandeliers, the interesting relique of Sir William Walworth, nor of the interior of the spacious Hall. I will tell you nothing of either of these, Mr. Geoffrey, since they cannot be observed from London Bridge; but before I entirely quit the Fishmongers, let me observe that Strype, in his Fifth Book of Stow’s ‘Survey,’ has two very singular notices concerning them, which I do not remember to have seen mentioned in any historical account of yonder passage across the Thames. They consist of certain ancient statutes peculiar to this Company, taken from the record called ‘Horn,’ in the Chamber of London; and they state that it should be prohibited that any Fishmonger should ‘buy a fresh fish before Mass at the Chapel upon the Bridge be celebrated:’ which Chapel, it is elsewhere stated, is one of the bounds, beyond which no Fishmonger ought to go to buy fish.