Some distance up Nicholas Street, on the left hand, is St. Martin’s Church, a humble brick building, erected in 1721, in the place of an older structure dating back to the thirteenth century. St. Martin’s parish has recently been united to that of St. Bridget, and the services of this Church are now, in consequence, discontinued.
Moving along St. Martin’s Ash, as this locality is termed, past Cuppin Street, where the Old Gas Works are situate, we obtain a good front view of the new Church of St. Bridget. This Church, or rather its predecessor, stood originally at the other end of Grosvenor Street, immediately opposite to St. Michael’s Church, and its foundation has been by some ascribed to Offa, King of Mercia, in the eighth century. Be this as it may, there are records preserved which establish its existence at least as early as the year 1200. On the erection of the Grosvenor Bridge, it was found that this Church stood exactly in the track of the projected New Road, now called Grosvenor Street, and an act of parliament was consequently obtained for its removal. The old Church was demolished in 1827, and the grave-stones and bodies removed, where practicable, to the new burial-ground adjoining the present Church. The first stone of the new edifice was laid October 12, 1827, by Dr. C. J. Blomfield, the present Bishop of London, who at that time presided over the see of Chester. This structure presents outwardly none of the characteristics of a Christian Church; and might easily be mistaken for some pagan temple, rather than for one dedicated to the worship of the Most High.
Returning to Watergate Street, we see before us Linen Hall Street, called formerly Lower Lane, from its being at one time the last street on this side of the city. There is nothing to interest us in this street, which terminates with St. Martin’s in the Fields, at the rear of the Gaol, and General Infirmary. So late as the sixteenth century, there was at the further end of this street an ancient Church, quoted in old deeds as the Church of St. Chad, but the place thereof is now nowhere to be found.
Lower still down Watergate Street, is Linen Hall Place, where the Chester Chess Club holds its meetings, and where players of every country and clime are sure of a hearty and welcome reception.
Nearly opposite to this Place, up a narrow, inconvenient passage, is a house which invites and eminently deserves our notice and admiration. This house is styled indifferently the Old Palace, and Stanley House, from its having been originally the city palace or residence of the Stanleys of Alderley, a family of note in the county, and now ennobled. This is an elaborately carved, three-gabled house, and is perhaps the oldest unmutilated specimen of a timber house remaining in the city, the date of its erection being carved on the front,—1591. The sombre dignity of its exterior pervades also the internal construction of this house,—the large rooms, the panelled walls, the oaken floors, the massive staircase, all pointing it out as the abode of aristocracy in the olden time.
From hence to the Watergate is little more than a stone’s throw; but on the left is the handsome city residence of H. Potts, Esq., representative of a family long and honourably connected with the county. This house and the locality round occupy the site of the ancient Monastery of the Black Friars, where the black-cowled faithful ‘fasted and prayed’ down to the period of the Dissolution, but of which scarcely any traces, save the fragment of a wall, are now discernible.
The passage to the right leads to Stanley Place, near which, in 1779, a Roman Hypocaust, and the remains of a house, also of the same remote period, were discovered. Such portions of these remains as escaped the ruthless pickaxes of the workmen, were removed to Oulton Park, and now ornament the museum of its present worthy owner, Sir P. Grey Egerton, Bart., M.P. for the county.
Beyond the Watergate are Paradise Row, overlooking the Roodeye,—and the two Crane Streets; beyond which we are introduced to that fabulous existence of modern days,—the Port of Chester. Time was when we might have tuned our harps to a different key, but now, alas! we can only lament the fallen condition of our ancient port, and the wretched indifference of those ‘high in authority,’ who by their senseless apathy in past days have brought the maritime trade of Chester to its present lifeless and ignominious state. This is a sore subject; so we will at once retrace our steps to the Cross, and in the next chapter continue our perambulations through the city.