1652. God’s providence is mine inheritance. 1652.
On the right hand, lower down, is Goss Street; and still lower, Crook Street, both destitute of interest to sight-seers: but, exactly opposite to Crook Street, stand three fine gable-fronted houses, the centre one of which deserves our attention and admiration. This house is, without exception, the most curious and remarkable of its kind in Chester, and one which, perhaps, has no parallel in Great Britain. Prout has immortalised it in one of his inimitable sketches, of which the accompanying woodcut is a reduced, yet faithful copy. The origin of the house seems to be lost in fable; but, in the present day, it is usually styled Bishop Lloyd’s House, from the fact of that Cestrian prelate dying about the date (1615,) carved on one of the panels, and from certain coats-of-arms which decorate the front, bearing some analogy to the bearings of his family. Grotesquely carved from the apex of the gable to the very level of the Row, this house exhibits a profusion of ornament, and an eccentricity of design, unattempted in any structure of the kind within our knowledge. It is, indeed, a unique and magnificent work of art. To say nothing of the designs in the higher compartments, it must suffice here to state, that the subjects of the lower panels lay the plan of human redemption prominently before the eye. In the first panel, we have Adam and Eve in Paradise, in a state of sinless nudity; then comes the first great consequence of the Fall, Cain murdering Abel his brother. To this follows Abraham offering up his Son Isaac; typical of the “one great Sacrifice for us all.” The seventh compartment has a curious representation of the Immaculate Conception, whereby “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.” Ridiculous have been some of the attempts of “Local Guide-makers” to arrive at the real meaning of this design: some have gravely set it down as the “Flight into Egypt;” while another and later “unfortunate” has sapiently pronounced it to be “Susannah and the Elders.” The eighth panel symbolises the completion of the great sacrifice, the Crucifixion of Christ, in Simeon’s prophecy to the Virgin,—“Yea, a sword shall pierce through thine own heart also.” The three centre compartments contain the arms of the reigning monarch, James I., England’s Solomon, as he was called,—the supposed arms and quarterings of Bishop Lloyd,—and a Latin inscription, with the date 1615. If it be true that
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever,
then will this house, as a masterpiece of art, be an object of interest and delight to strangers, “till time itself shall be no more.” We should step up into the Row at this point, and scrutinise the indescribable forms of men and beasts which ornament and support the oaken pillars in front.
A few steps lower down the Row is a passage or alley, communicating with Commonhall Street, called Puppet Show Entry. This passage is chiefly memorable as the scene of a most terrific explosion, which shook the city like an earthquake, on the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot, November 5th, 1772. A large room in this passage was fitted up as a sort of Marionette Theatre,—a large audience had assembled,—the puppets were going through their strange evolutions,—when, by some appalling misfortune, eight hundred-weight of gunpowder lodged in a warehouse below suddenly blew up with a tremendous report, killing the showman and twenty-two others; eighty-three, besides, being more or less seriously injured. In remembrance of that fearful calamity, this alley has been ever since known as the Puppet Show Entry.
Where that new range of superior houses now stands, on the opposite side of the street, was, until very recently, a fine old mansion of wood and plaster, the city residence of the Mainwarings, a notable Cheshire family.
Just below we have, upon the left hand, Weaver Street, anciently St. Alban’s Lane, leading to the spot where the Church and Monastery of the White Friars in times past stood. Of this monastic establishment no vestige remains, except a portion of the western wall, which is still visible from Weaver Street. The spire of this Church, which was of noble dimensions, served mariners as a landmark in steering their vessels up to the Walls of Chester.
On the right side of Watergate Street is Trinity Street, in which is the oldest dissenting chapel in the city. It was erected in 1700, by the followers and friends of Matthew Henry, the nonconformist, a learned and earnest preacher of his day, and author of the celebrated “Commentary on the Holy Scriptures” which bears his name.