We give an engraving of St. Michael’s, Cornhill, the tower of which is a copy of the one that escaped the fire; the upper portion is very beautiful—pity it is hidden by the houses in St. Michael’s-alley.
As we are now in busy Lombard-street, so proverbial for its wealth, we will pause a few moments, and look at it through the dim haze of former years, how different from what it is now! As we gaze through the twilight of past centuries, we catch glimpses of the objects and echoes of the sounds that moved and floated over this ancient neighbourhood nearly three centuries before the Diamond let off her steam, or the Rob Roy omnibus carried thirteen “insides:” glimpses of vaulters, and dancers, and bear-wards, and leaders of apes, crossing and crowding where now the bank clerks hurry to clear out, carrying thousands of pounds in their bill-cases; still, however, reminding you that the old “rogueries” of London have not vanished, by the strong steel chains with which they secure their banking books. What a roaring and barking there must have been in that narrow thoroughfare in bygone days, when the bear was followed by all the dogs “from some four parishes,” as Ben Jonson has narrated! What a stir there was on that merry morning when Kemp set out from the house of the Lord Mayor to dance all the way to Norwich, accompanied by his taborer, Thomas Sly; or when Banks (the Ducrow of the Elizabethan period) exhibited his wonderful horse, named Morocco, in the London streets, and many of the simple citizens believed that both he and his marvellous steed had dealings with the old gentleman who manages the fire-office below! What cramming and jamming there would be about the Exchange on the day Queen Elizabeth ordered it to be opened by sound of trumpet; what motions and raree-shows, and antics of wooden puppets, such as Hogarth has preserved in his picture of “Southwark Fair,” and Jonson has called “a civil company” who live in baskets! Add to these all the “street-cries,” the balancers of straws and feathers, and all other out-of-door amusements, not forgetting the hares that played on tabors; the buzz also of the bearded merchants, who took up no small space with their ample trunk-hose: then you have, in the mind’s eye, the whole of this ancient panorama, moving in that high narrow street, with half the houses sleeping in shadow, while the other half caught the full sunshine. Seated at those carven and diamond-shaped lattices, which went bowing out far over the ill-paved pathway, were the wives and pretty daughters of these “gray forefathers” of commerce; while below, many an apprentice sat sighing over his desk, wishing it were Sunday again, and he carrying the large clasped Bible behind his handsome young mistress, while thinking more about the neat foot and ankle she displayed than the sermon that was to be preached at St. Peter’s or St. Michael’s; or, as he passed some richly-sculptured conduit, wondering when it would again run with wine; or, if he walked that way, turning a longing look as he passed towards the apple-trees that grew around St. Martin’s Church, in Ironmonger-lane, and thinking how he should like to make a party to rob that City orchard. Such were the picturesque features of the London of this period in the streets.
How different were the old ordinaries from the quiet chop-houses we now find in every court and alley that runs into Lombard-street! In those days, ten to one you had to fight your man after having finished your dinner; for swash-bucklers abounded in every tavern. Still there were merry doings; and Queen Bess’s ruff at last bristled out with anger at the tidings of the quantity of venison those “fat and greasy citizens” consumed, and then the Lord Mayor and aldermen were called upon to interfere.
Now merchants whose autographs to a cheque would load the bearer with gold lunch in the neighbouring alleys on their humble chop and steak; and gentlemen worth thousands turn up their cuffs and peel their own potatoes—then hurry off by the train, or omnibus, or steamer, to their snug suburban residences to dinner, except on rare occasions. They no longer retire to the ancient hostels to smoke tobacco, which was sold for its weight in silver, and to purchase which they looked out their newest crowns and shillings to place in the opposite scale. Smoking then was a different thing from “burning” tobacco as we do now; yet there were men in those days who, no doubt, “blew a cloud” with Sir Walter Raleigh and Ben Jonson; and even Shakspeare himself must have sat in the society of these early smokers.
How the bankers of England sprang from goldsmiths and lenders of money on plate and other pledges, is already matter of history; and were King John now alive, he would hesitate before he dared to venture on a little dental surgery to fill his exchequer; the bench would get judgment signed a thousand times over with much more pleasure than he affixed his signature to the Great Charter. Even the fiery daughter of Henry VIII. would, under the existing state of things, pause before commanding the citizens to take back the money she had borrowed of them, without interest, in loan for which she demanded seven per cent should be paid, and all their gold and silver
