Old London Customs.
For the Table Book.
Paul’s Walkers—Hired Witnesses.
In the reigns of James I. and Charles I. a singular custom prevailed of the idle and dissolute part of the community assembling in the naves or other unemployed parts of large churches. The nave of St. Paul’s cathedral bore the name of Paul’s Walk; and so little was the sanctity of the place regarded, that if the description by an old author[517] is not exaggerated, the Royal Exchange at four o’clock does not present a greater scene of confusion. I carry the comparison no farther; the characters assembled in the church appear to have been very different to those composing the respectable assembly alluded to. The author referred to thus describes the place: “The noyse in it is like that of bees. It is the generall mint of all famous lies, which are here like the legends popery first coyn’d and stampt in the church. All inventions are empty’d here and not a few pockets.” “The visitants are all men without exceptions; but the principal inhabitants and possessors are stale knights, and captaines out of service; men of long rapiers and breeches.”
From the following passage in Hudibras[518] I should judge that the circular church in the Temple was the resort of characters of an equally bad description:
“Retain all sorts of witnesses,
That ply i’ th’ Temples, under trees,
Or walk the round, with knights o’ th’ posts,
About the cross-legg’d knights, their hosts;
Or wait for customers between
The pillar-rows in Lincoln’s Inn.”
The cross-legged knights, it is almost needless to add, are the effigies of the mailed warriors, which still remain in fine preservation. The “pillar-rows in Lincoln’s Inn,” I apprehend, refer to the crypt, or open vault, beneath Inigo Jones’s chapel in Lincoln’s Inn, originally designed for an ambulatory.[519] It is singular to reflect on the entire change in the public manners within two centuries. If coeval authorities did not exist to prove the fact, who would believe in these days, that, in a civilized country, men were to be found within the very seats of law ready to perjure themselves for hire? or that juries and judges did not treat the practice and the encouraging of it with a prompt and just severity?
St. Thomas’s Day Elections.
Previous to a court of common council, the members were formerly in the habit of assembling in the great hall of the Guildhall. When the hour of business arrived, one of the officers of the lord mayor’s household summoned them to their own chamber by the noise produced by moving an iron ring swiftly up and down a twisted or crankled bar of the same metal, which was affixed behind the door of the principal entrance to the passage leading to that part of the Guildhall styled, in civic language, the inner chambers. The custom was disused about forty years ago. The iron, I understand, remained until the demolition of the old doorway in the last general repair of the hall, when the giants descended from their stations without hearing the clock strike, and the new doorway was formed in a more convenient place. With the old-fashioned gallery, the invariable appendage to an ancient hall, which, until that period, occupied its proper place over the entrance, was destroyed that terror of idle apprentices, the prison of Little Ease. This gallery must be still remembered, as well as its shrill clock in a curious carved case. Its absence is not compensated by the perilous-looking balcony substituted for it on the opposite side, an object too trifling and frivolous for so fine a room as the civic common hall.