View allAll Photos Tagged Probability
Nuit Blanche, Toornto ON 5 Oct 2024. Probability Engine exhibit at HTO Park on the Waterfront. Nuit Blanche is the city's all-night free outdoor arts festival.
New book! Epic Landscape Photography: The Principles of Fine Art Nature Photography!
www.facebook.com/epiclandscapephotography/
Join my new 45EPIC fine art landscapes page on facebook!
facebook.com/mcgucken
Working on a couple photography books! 45EPIC GODDESS PHOTOGRAPHY: A classic guide to exalting the archetypal woman. And 45EPIC Fine Art Landscape Photography!
More on my golden ratio musings: facebook.com/goldennumberratio
instagram.com/goldennumberratio
Greetings all! I have been busy finishing a few books on photography, while traveling all over--to Zion and the Sierras--shooting fall colors. Please see some here: facebook.com/mcgucken
Let me know in the comments if you would like a free review copy of one of my photography books! :)
Titles include:
The Tao of Epic Landscape Photography: Exalt Fine Art with the Yin-Yang Wisdom of Lao Tzu's Tao Te Ching!
The Golden Number Ratio Principle: Why the Fibonacci Numbers Exalt Beauty and How to Create PHI Compositions in Art, Design, & Photography
facebook.com/goldennumberratio
And I am also working on a book on photographing the goddesses! :) More goddesses soon!
Best wishes on your epic hero's odyssey!:)
I love voyaging forth into nature to contemplate poetry, physics, the golden ratio, and the Tao te Ching! What's your favorite epic poetry reflecting epic landscapes? I recently finished a book titled Epic Poetry for Epic Landscape Photographers:
www.facebook.com/Epic-Poetry-for-Epic-Landscape-Photograp...
Did you know that John Muir, Thoreau, and Emerson all loved epic poetry and poets including Shakespeare, Milton, Homer, and Robert Burns?
I recently finished my fourth book on Light Time Dimension Theory, much of which was inspired by an autumn trip to Zion!
www.facebook.com/lightimedimensiontheory/
Via its simple principle of a fourth expanding dimension, LTD Theory provides a unifying, foundational *physical* model underlying relativity, quantum mechanics, time and all its arrows and asymmetries, and the second law of thermodynamics. The detailed diagrams demonstrate that the great mysteries of quantum mechanical nonlocality, entanglement, and probability naturally arise from the very same principle that fosters relativity alongside light's constant velocity, the equivalence of mass and energy, and time dilation.
Follow me on instagram!
Join my new 45EPIC fine art landscapes page on facebook!
The progressive, evolution story
is one huge MISTAKE
which, ironically,
depends on MISTAKES
as its mechanism ...
Mistake
- upon mistake
- upon mistake
- upon mistake
So that the whole human genome
is created from billions of mistakes.
If, after reading this, you still believe in the progressive evolution story - you will believe anything.
EVOLUTION .....
What is the truth about Darwinian, progressive (microbes to human) evolution?
Although we are told it is an irrefutable, scientific fact .....
the real fact is, as we will show later, there is no credible mechanism for such progressive evolution.
So, what was the evolutionary idea that Darwin popularised?
Darwin believed that there was unlimited variability in the gene pool of all creatures and plants.
However, the changes possible were well known by selective breeders to be strictly limited.
This is because the changes seen in selective breeding are due to the shuffling, deletion and emphasis of genetic information already existing in the gene pool (micro-evolution). There is no viable mechanism for creating new, beneficial, genetic information required to create entirely new body parts ... anatomical structures, biological systems, organs etc. (macro-evolution).
Darwin rashly ignored the limits which were well known to breeders (even though he selectively bred pigeons himself, and should have known better). He simply extrapolated the strictly limited, minor changes observed in selective breeding to major, unlimited, progressive changes able to create new structures, organs etc. through natural selection, over an alleged multi-million year timescale.
Of course, the length of time involved made no difference, the existing, genetic information could not increase of its own accord, no matter how long the timescale.
That was a gigantic flaw in Darwinism, and opponents of Darwin's ideas tried to argue that changes were limited, as selective breeding had demonstrated.
But because Darwinism had acquired a status more akin to an ideology than purely, objective science, belief in the Darwinian idea outweighed the verdict of observational and experimental science, and classical Darwinism became firmly established as scientific orthodoxy for nearly a century.
Opponents continued to argue all this time, that Darwinism was unscientific nonsense, but they were ostracised and dismissed as cranks, weirdoes or religious fanatics.
Finally however, it was discovered that the opponents of Darwin were perfectly correct - and that constructive, genetic changes (progressive, macro-evolution) require new, additional, genetic information.
This looked like the ignominious end of Darwinism, as there was no credible, natural mechanism able to create new, constructive, genetic information. And Darwinism should have been heading for the dustbin of history.
Darwin's idea that a single, celled microbe could transform itself into a human and every other living thing, through natural selection over millions of years, had always been totally bonkers. That it is, or ever could have been, regarded as a great 'scientific' theory, beggars belief.
However, rather than ditch the whole idea, the vested interests in Darwinism had become so great, with numerous, lifelong careers and an ideological agenda which had become dependant on the Darwinian belief system, a desperate attempt was made to rescue it from its justified demise.
A mechanism had to be invented to explain the origin of new, constructive information.
That invented mechanism was 'mutations'. Mutations are ... literally, genetic, copying MISTAKES.
The general public had already been convinced that classical Darwinism was a scientific fact, and that anyone who questioned it was a crank, so all that had to be done, as far as the public was concerned, was to give the impression that the theory had simply been refined and updated in the light of modern science.
The fact that classical Darwinism had been wrong all along, and was fatally flawed from the outset was kept quiet. This meant that the opponents of Darwinism, who had been right all along, and were the real champions of science, continued to be vilified as cranks and scorned by the mass media and establishment. Ideology and vested interests took precedence over common sense and proper science.
The new developments were simply portrayed as the evolution and development of the theory. The impression was given that there was nothing wrong with the idea of progressive (macro) evolution, it had simply 'evolved' and 'improved' in the light of greater knowledge.
A sort of progressive evolution of the idea of evolution.
This new, 'improved' Darwinism became known as Neo-Darwinism.
So what is Neo-Darwinism? And did it really solve the fatal flaws of the Darwinian idea?
Neo Darwinism is progressive, macro evolution - as Darwin had proposed, but based on the ludicrous idea that random mutations (accidental, genetic, copying mistakes) selected by natural selection, can provide the constructive, genetic information capable of creating entirely new features, anatomical structures, organs, and biological systems. In other words, it is macro-evolution based on a belief in the total progression from microbes to man through billions of random, genetic, copying MISTAKES, over millions of years.
However, there is no evidence for it whatsoever, and it is should be classified as unscientific nonsense which defies logic, the laws of probability and Information Theory.
Mutations are not good, they are something to be feared, not celebrated as an agent of improvement or progression.
The vast majority of mutations are harmful, they cause illness, cancer and deformities, which is not surprising. It is precisely what we would expect from mistakes.
If you throw a spanner into the works of a machine, you wouldn't expect it to improve the operation of the machine.
Ironically, evolutionists fear mutations as much as everyone else. You won't get evolutionists volunteering to subject themselves or their families to mutagenic agents, you won't get them deliberately going to live near chemical or nuclear plants - in order to give their idea of progressive evolution a helping hand.
Evolutionists know that mutations are very risky and likely to be harmful, and not something anyone should desire.
Yet, perversely, they still present them as the agent responsible for creating the constructive, genetic information which, they claim, progressively transformed the first living cells into every living thing that has ever lived, including humans. Incredible!
People are sometimes confused, because they know that 'micro'-evolution is an observable fact, which everyone accepts. Disgracefully, evolutionists cynically exploit that confusion by citing obvious examples of micro-evolution such as: the Peppered Moth, Darwin's finches, so-called superbugs etc., as evidence of macro-evolution.
Of course such examples are not evidence of macro-evolution at all. The public is simply being hoodwinked and lied to, and it is a disgrace to science. There are no observable examples or evidence of macro-evolution and no examples of a mutation, or a series of mutations capable of creating new anatomical structures, organs etc. and that is a fact. It is no wonder that W R Thompson stated in the preface to the 1959 centenary edition of Darwin's Origin of the Species, that ... the success of Darwinism was accompanied by a decline in scientific integrity.
Micro-evolution is simply the small changes which take place, through natural selection or selective breeding, but only within the strict limits of the built-in variability of the existing gene pool. Any constructive changes outside the extent of the existing gene pool requires a credible mechanism for the creation of new, beneficial, genetic information, that is essential for macro evolution.
Micro evolution does not involve or require the creation of any new, genetic information. So micro evolution and macro evolution are entirely different. There is no connection between them at all, whatever evolutionists may claim.
Once people fully understand that the differences they see in various dogs breeds, for example, are merely an example of limited micro-evolution (selection of existing genetic information) and nothing to do with progressive macro-evolution, they begin to realise that they have been fed an incredible story.
A dog will always remain a dog, it can never be selectively bred into some other creature, the extent of variation is constrained by the limitations of the existing, genetic information in the gene pool of the dog genus, and evolutionists know that.
To explain further.... Neo-Darwinian, macro evolution is the ridiculous idea that everything in the genome of humans and every living thing past and present (apart from the original genetic information in the very first living cell) is the result of millions of genetic copying mistakes..... mutations of mutations .... of mutations.... of mutations .... and so on - and on - and on.
In other words, Neo-Darwinism proposes that the complete genome (every scrap of genetic information in the DNA) of every living thing that has ever lived was created by a long series ... of mistakes ... upon previous mistakes .... upon previous mistakes .... upon previous mistakes etc. etc.
If we look at the whole picture we soon realise that what is actually being proposed by evolutionists is that, apart from the original information in the first living cell (and evolutionists have yet to explain how that original information magically arose?) - every additional scrap of genetic information for all - the biological features, anatomical structures, systems and processes that exist, or have ever existed in living things, such as:
skin, bones, bone joints, shells, flowers, leaves, wings, scales, muscles, fur, hair, teeth, claws, toe and finger nails, horns, beaks, nervous systems, blood, blood vessels, brains, lungs, hearts, digestive systems, vascular systems, liver, kidneys, pancreas, bowels, immune systems, senses, eyes, ears, sex organs, sexual reproduction, sperm, eggs, pollen, the process of metamorphosis, marsupial pouches, marsupial embryo migration, mammary glands, hormone production, melanin etc. .... have been created from scratch, by an incredibly long series of small, accumulated mistakes ... mistake - upon mistake - upon mistake - upon mistake - over and over again, millions of times.
That is ... every body part, system and process of all living things are the result of literally billions of genetic MISTAKES of MISTAKES, accumulated over many millions of years.
All this from an original, single, living cell.
If, for example, there is no genetic information for bones in the original living cell, how could copying mistakes of the original, limited information in such a single cell produce such entirely new information?
Incredibly, what we are asked to believe is that something like a vascular system, or reproductive organs, developed in small, random, incremental steps, with every step being the result of a copying mistake, and with each step being able to provide a significant survival or reproductive advantage in order to be preserved and become dominant in the gene pool. Incredible!
If you believe that ... you will believe anything.
Even worse, evolutionists have yet to cite a single example of a positive, beneficial, mutation which adds constructive information to the genome of any creature. Yet they expect us to believe that we have been converted from an original, single living cell into humans by an accumulation of billions of beneficial mutations (mistakes).
Conclusion:
Progressive, microbes-to-man evolution is impossible - there is no credible mechanism to produce all the new, genetic information which is essential for that to take place.
The evolution story is an obvious fairy tale presented as scientific fact.
However, nothing has changed - those who dare to question Neo-Darwinism are still portrayed as idiots, retards, cranks, weirdoes, anti-scientific ignoramuses or religious fanatics.
Want to join the club?
What about the fossil record?
The formation of fossils.
Books explaining how fossils are formed frequently give the impression that it takes many years of build up of layers of sediment to bury organic remains, which then become fossilised.
Therefore many people don't realise that this impression is erroneous, because it is a fact that all good, intact fossils require rapid burial in sufficient sediment to prevent decay or predatory destruction.
So it is evident that rock containing good, undamaged fossils was laid down rapidly, sometimes in catastrophic conditions.
The very existence of intact fossils is a testament to rapid burial and sedimentation.
You don't get fossils from slow burial. Organic remains don't just sit around on the sea bed, or elsewhere, waiting for sediment to cover them a millimetre at a time, over a long period.
Unless they are buried rapidly, they would soon be damaged or destroyed by predation and/or decay.
The fact that so many sedimentary rocks contain fossils, indicates that the sediment that created them was normally laid down within a short time.
Another important factor is that many large fossils (tree trunks, large fish, dinosaurs etc.) intersect several or many strata (sometimes called layers) which clearly indicates that multiple strata were formed simultaneously in a single event by grading/segregation of sedimentary particles into distinct layers, and not stratum by stratum over long periods of time or different geological eras, which is the evolutionist's, uniformitarian interpretation of the geological column.
In view of the fact that many large fossils required a substantial amount of sediment to bury them, and the fact that they intersect multiple strata (polystrate fossils), how can any sensible person claim that strata or, for that matter, any fossil bearing rock, could have taken millions of years to form?
What do laboratory experiments and field studies of recent, sedimentation events show? sedimentology.fr/
You don't even need to be a qualified sedimentologist or geologist to come to that conclusion, it is common sense.
Rapid formation of strata - some recent, field evidence:
www.flickr.com/photos/101536517@N06/sets/72157635944904973/
All creatures and plants alive today, which are found as fossils, are the same in their fossil form as the living examples, in spite of the fact that the fossils are claimed to be millions of years old. So all living things today could be called 'living fossils' inasmuch as there is no evidence of any evolutionary changes in the alleged multi-million year timescale. The fossil record shows either extinct species or unchanged species, that is all.
When no evidence is cited as evidence:
www.flickr.com/photos/101536517@N06/15157133658
The Cambrian Explosion.
Trilobites and other many creatures appeared suddenly in some of the earliest rocks of the fossil record, with no intermediate ancestors. This sudden appearance of a great variety of advanced, fully developed creatures is called the Cambrian Explosion. Trilobites are especially interesting because they have complex eyes, which would need a lot of progressive evolution to develop such advanced features However, there is no evidence of any evolution leading up to the Cambrian Explosion, and that is a serious dilemma for evolutionists.
Trilobites are now thought to be extinct, although it is possible that similar creatures could still exist in unexplored parts of deep oceans.
See fossil of a crab unchanged after many millions of years:
www.flickr.com/photos/101536517@N06/12702046604/in/set-72...
Fossil museum: www.flickr.com/photos/101536517@N06/sets/72157641367196613/
What about all the claimed scientific evidence that evolutionists have found for evolution?
The evolutionist 'scientific' method has resulted in a serious decline in scientific integrity, and has given us such scientific abominations as:
Piltdown Man (a fake),
Nebraska Man (a pig),
South West Colorado Man (a horse),
Orce man (a donkey),
Embryonic Recapitulation (a fraud),
Archaeoraptor (a fake),
Java Man (a giant gibbon),
Peking Man (a monkey),
Montana Man (an extinct dog-like creature)
Nutcracker Man (an extinct type of ape - Australopithecus)
The Horse Series (unrelated species cobbled together),
Peppered Moth (faked photographs)
The Orgueil meteorite (faked evidence)
Etc. etc.
Anyone can call anything 'science' ... it doesn't make it so.
All these examples were trumpeted by evolutionists as scientific evidence for evolution.
Do we want to trust evolutionists claims about scientific evidence, when they have such an appalling record?
Just how good are peer reviews of scientific papers?
www.sciencemag.org/content/342/6154/60.full
Want to publish a science paper?
www.nature.com/nature/journal/v434/n7036/full/nature03653...
www.nature.com/news/publishers-withdraw-more-than-120-gib...
Piltdown Man was even used in the famous, Scopes Trial as positive evidence for evolution.
Piltdown Man reigned for over 40 years, as a supreme example of evidence of human evolution, before it was exposed as a crudely, fashioned fake.
Is that 'science'?
The ludicrous Hopeful Monster Theory and so-called Punctuated Equilibrium (evolution in big jumps followed by long periods of stasis) were invented by evolutionists as a desperate attempt to explain away the lack of fossil evidence for evolution. They are proposed methods of evolution which, it is claimed, need no fossil evidence. They are actually an admission that the required fossil evidence does not exist.
Piltdown Man... it survived as alleged proof of evolution for over 40 years in evolution textbooks and was taught in schools and universities, it survived peer reviews etc. and was used as supposed irrefutable evidence for evolution at the famous Scopes Trial..
Nebraska Man, this was a single tooth of a peccary. it was trumpeted as evidence for the evolution of humans, and artists impressions of an ape-like man appeared in newspapers magazines etc. Such 'scientific' evidence is enough to make any genuine, respectable scientist weep.
South West Colorado Man, another tooth .... of a horse this time... presented as more evidence for human evolution.
Orce man, a fragment of skullcap, which was most likely from a donkey, but even if it was human. such a tiny fragment is certainly not any proof of human evolution as it was made out to be.
Embryonic Recapitulation, the evolutionist zealot Ernst Haeckel (who was a hero of Hitler) published fraudulent drawings of embryos and his theory was readily accepted by evolutionists as proof of evolution. Even after he was exposed as a fraudster, evolutionists still continued to use his fraudulent evidence in books and publications on evolution, including school textbooks, until very recently.
Archaeoraptor, A so-called feathered dinosaur from the Chinese fossil faking industry. It managed to fool credulous evolutionists, because it was exactly what they were looking for. The evidence fitted the wishful thinking.
Java Man, Dubois, the man who discovered Java Man and declared it a human ancestor ..... admitted much later that it was actually a giant gibbon, however, that spoilt the evolution story which had been built up around it, so evolutionists were reluctant to get rid of it, and still maintained it was a human ancestor. Dubois had also 'forgotten' to mention that he found the bones of modern humans at the same site.
Peking Man, made up from monkey skulls which were found in an ancient limestone burning industrial site where there were crushed monkey skulls and modern human bones. Drawings were made of Peking Man, but the original skull conveniently disappeared. So that allowed evolutionists to continue to use it as evidence without fear of it ever being debunked.
The Horse Series, unrelated species cobbled together, They were from different continents and were in no way a proper series of intermediates, They had different numbers of ribs etc. and the very first in the line, is similar to a creature alive today - the Hyrax.
Peppered Moth, moths were glued to trees to fake photographs for the peppered moth evidence. They don't normally rest on trees in daytime. In any case, the selection of a trait which is part of the variability of the existing gene pool, is not progressive evolution. It is just normal, natural selection within limits, which no-one disputes.
The Orgueil meteorite, organic material and even plant seeds were embedded and glued into the Orgueil meteorite and disguised with coal dust to make them look like part of the original meteorite, in a fraudulent attempt to fool the world into believing in the discredited idea of spontaneous generation of life, which is essential for progressive evolution to get started. The reasoning being that, if it could be shown that there was life in space, spontaneous generation must have happened there and could therefore be declared by evolutionists as being a scientific fact.
Is macro evolution even science? The answer to that has to be an emphatic - NO!
The usual definition of science is: that which can be demonstrated and observed and repeated. Evolution cannot be proved, or tested; it is claimed to have happened in the past, and, as such, it is not subject to the scientific method. It is merely a belief.
Of course, there is nothing wrong with having beliefs, especially if there is a wealth of evidence to support them, but they should not be presented as scientific fact. As we have shown, in the case of progressive evolution, there is a wealth of evidence against it. Nevertheless, we are told by evolutionist zealots that microbes to man evolution is a fact and likewise the spontaneous generation of life from sterile matter. They are deliberately misleading the public on both counts. Evolution is not only not a fact, it is not even proper science.
You don't need a degree in rocket science to understand that Darwinism has damaged and undermined science.
However, what does the world's, most famous, rocket scientist (the father of modern rocket science) have to say?
Wernher von Braun (1912 – 1977) PhD Aerospace Engineering
"In recent years, there has been a disturbing trend toward scientific dogmatism in some areas of science. Pronouncements by notable scientists and scientific organizations about "only one scientifically acceptable explanation" for events which are clearly outside the domain of science -- like all origins are -- can only destroy the curiosity of those who must carry on the future work of science. Humility, a seemingly natural product of studying nature, appears to have largely disappeared -- at least its visibility is clouded from the public's viewpoint.
Extrapolation backward in time until there are no physical artifacts of certainty that can be examined, requires sophisticated guessing which scientists prefer to refer to as "inference." Since hypotheses, a product of scientific inference, are virtually the stuff that comprises the cutting edge of scientific progress, inference must constantly be nurtured. However, the enthusiasm that encourages inference must be matched in degree with caution that clearly differentiates inference from what the public so readily accepts as "scientific fact." Failure to keep these two factors in balance can lead either to a sterile or a seduced science. 'Science but not Scientists' (2006) p.xi"
And the eminent scientist, William Robin Thompson (1887 - 1972) Entomologist and Director of the Commonwealth Institute of Biological Control, Ottawa, Canada, who was asked to write the introduction of the centenary edition of Darwin's 'Origin', wrote:
"The concept of organic Evolution is very highly prized by biologists, for many of whom it is an object of genuinely religious devotion, because they regard it as a supreme integrative principle. This is probably the reason why the severe methodological criticism employed in other departments of biology has not yet been brought to bear against evolutionary speculation." 'Science and Common Sense' (1937) p.229
“As we know, there is a great divergence of opinion among biologists … because the evidence is unsatisfactory and does not permit any certain conclusion. It is therefore right and proper to draw the attention of the non-scientific public to the disagreements about evolution. But some recent remarks of evolutionists show that they think this unreasonable ......
This situation, where scientific men rally to the defence of a doctrine they are unable to define scientifically, much less demonstrate with scientific rigor, attempting to maintain its credit with the public by the suppression of criticism and the elimination of difficulties, is abnormal and unwise in science.”
Prof. W. R. Thompson, F.R.S., introduction to the 1956 edition of Darwin's 'Origin of the Species'
"When I was asked to write an introduction replacing the one prepared a quarter of a century ago by the distinguished Darwinian, Sir Anthony Keith [one of the "discoverers" of Piltdown Man], I felt extremely hesitant to accept the invitation . . I am not satisfied that Darwin proved his point or that his influence in scientific and public thinking has been beneficial. If arguments fail to resist analysis, consent should be withheld and a wholesale conversion due to unsound argument must be regarded as deplorable. He fell back on speculative arguments."
"He merely showed, on the basis of certain facts and assumptions, how this might have happened, and as he had convinced himself he was able to convince others."
"But the facts and interpretations on which Darwin relied have now ceased to convince."
"This general tendency to eliminate, by means of unverifiable speculations, the limits of the categories Nature presents to us is the inheritance of biology from The Origin of Species. To establish the continuity required by the theory, historical arguments are invoked, even though historical evidence is lacking. Thus are engendered those fragile towers of hypothesis based on hypothesis, where fact and fiction intermingle in an inextricable confusion."—*W.R. Thompson, "Introduction," to Everyman’s Library issue of Charles Darwin, Origin of Species (1958 edition).
"The evolution theory can by no means be regarded as an innocuous natural philosophy, but rather is a serious obstruction to biological research. It obstructs—as has been repeatedly shown—the attainment of consistent results, even from uniform experimental material. For everything must ultimately be forced to fit this theory. An exact biology cannot, therefore, be built up."—*H. Neilsson, Synthetische Artbildng, 1954, p. 11
Berkeley University law professor, Philip Johnson, makes the following points: “(1) Evolution is grounded not on scientific fact, but on a philosophical belief called naturalism; (2) the belief that a large body of empirical evidence supports evolution is an illusion; (3) evolution is itself a religion; and, (4) if evolution were a scientific hypothesis based on rigorous study of the evidence, it would have been abandoned long ago.”
DNA.
The discovery of DNA should have been the death knell for evolution. It is only because evolutionists tend to manipulate and interpret evidence to suit their own preconceptions that makes them believe DNA is evidence FOR evolution.
It is clear that there is no natural mechanism which can produce constructional, biological information, such as that encoded in DNA.
Information Theory (and common sense) tells us that the unguided interaction of matter and energy cannot produce constructive information.
Do evolutionists even know where the very first, genetic information in the alleged Primordial Soup came from?
Of course they don't, but with the usual bravado, they bluff it out, and regardless, they rashly present the spontaneous generation of life as a scientific fact.
However, a fact, it certainly isn't .... and good science it certainly isn't.
Even though evolutionists have no idea whatsoever about how the first, genetic information originated, they still claim that the spontaneous generation of life (abiogenesis) is an established scientific fact, but this is completely disingenuous. Apart from the fact that abiogenesis violates the Law of Biogenesis, the Law of Cause and Effect and the Second Law of Thermodynamics, it also violates Information Theory.
Evolutionists have an enormous problem with explaining how the DNA code itself originated. However that is not even the major problem. The impression is given to the public by evolutionists that they only have to find an explanation for the origin of DNA by natural processes - and the problem of the origin of genetic information will have been solved.
That is a confusion in the minds of many people that evolutionists cynically exploit,
Explaining how DNA was formed by chemical processes, explains only how the information storage medium was formed, it tells us nothing about the origin of the information it carries.
To clarify this it helps to compare DNA to other information, storage mediums.
For example, if we compare DNA to the written word, we understand that the alphabet is a tangible medium for storing, recording and expressing information, it is not information in itself. The information is recorded in the sequence of letters, forming meaningful words.
You could say that the alphabet is the 'hardware' created from paper and ink, and the sequential arrangement of the letters is the software. The software is a mental construct, not a physical one.
The same applies to DNA. DNA is not information of itself, just like the alphabet it is the medium for storing and expressing information. It is an amazingly efficient storage medium. However, it is the sequence or arrangement of the amino acids which is the actual information, not the DNA code.
So, if evolutionists are ever able to explain how DNA was formed by chemical processes, it would explain only how the information storage medium was formed. It will tell us nothing about the origin of the information it carries.
Thus, when atheists and evolutionists tell us it is only a matter of time before 'science' will be able to fill the 'gaps' in our knowledge and explain the origin of genetic information, they are not being honest. Explaining the origin of the 'hardware' by natural processes is an entirely different matter to explaining the origin of the software.
Next time you hear evolutionists skating over the problem of the origin of genetic information with their usual bluff and bluster, and parroting their usual nonsense about science being able to fill such gaps in knowledge in the future, don't be fooled. They cannot explain the origin of genetic information, and never will be able to. The software cannot be created by chemical processes or the interaction of energy and matter, it is not possible. If you don't believe that. then by all means put it to the test, by challenging any evolutionist to explain how genetic information (not DNA) can originate by natural means? I can guarantee they won't be able to do so.
It is true to say - the evolution cupboard is bare when it come to real, tangible evidence.
For example:
1.The origin of life is still a mystery, evolutionists have failed to demonstrate that the Law of Biogenesis (which rules out the spontaneous generation of life) is not universally valid.
2.They have no explanation for where the first, genetic information came from.
3.They assume (without any evidence) that matter is somehow intrinsically predisposed to produce life whenever the environmental conditions for life permit.
4.They deny that there is any purpose in the universe, yet completely contradict that premise by assuming the above intrinsic predisposition of matter to produce life, as though matter is somehow endowed with a 'blueprint' for the creation of life.
5.They have no credible mechanism for the increase of genetic information required for progressive evolution and increasing complexity.
6.They have failed to produce any credible, intermediate, fossil examples, in spite of searching for over 150 years. There should be millions of examples, yet there is not a single one which is a watertight example.
7.They regularly publish so-called evidence which, when properly examined, is discovered to be nothing of the sort: Example ... Orce Man (the skullcap of a donkey!).
8.They use dubious dating techniques, such as circular reasoning in the dating of fossils and rocks.
9. They discard any evidence - radiocarbon dating, sedimentation experiments, fossils etc. that doesn't fit the preconceptions.
10. They frequently make the claim that there has to be life on other planets, simply on the assumption (without evidence) that life spontaneously generated and evolved on Earth which they take it for granted is a proven fact.
11.They cannot produce a single, credible example of a genuinely, beneficial mutation, yet billions would be required for microbes to human evolution.
There is much more, but that should suffice to debunk the incessant hype and propaganda that microbes-to-human evolution is an established, irrefutable fact.
It should be enough to put an end to the greatest fraud that has been foisted on the public in scientific history.
We are constantly told by evolutionists that the majority of scientists accept progressive evolution (as though that gives it credence) ... but most scientists, don't actually study evolution in any depth, because it is outside their field of expertise. They simply trust what they are taught in school, and mistakenly trust the integrity of evolutionists to present evidence objectively.
That is another great MISTAKE!
Evolutionism: The Religion That Offers Nothing.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=znXF0S6D_Ts&list=TLqiH-mJoVPB...
FOUNDATIONS OF SCIENCE
The Law of Cause and Effect. Dominant Principle of Classical Physics. David L. Bergman and Glen C. Collins
www.thewarfareismental.net/b/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/b...
"The Big Bang's Failed Predictions and Failures to Predict: (Updated Aug 3, 2017.) As documented below, trust in the big bang's predictive ability has been misplaced when compared to the actual astronomical observations that were made, in large part, in hopes of affirming the theory."
kgov.com/big-bang-predictions
Dr James Tour - 'The Origin of Life' - Abiogenesis decisively refuted.
The origin of the name Oslo has been the subject of much debate. It is certainly derived from Old Norse and was—in all probability—originally the name of a large farm at Bjørvika, but the meaning of that name is disputed. Modern linguists generally interpret the original Óslo or Áslo as either "Meadow at the Foot of a Hill" or "Meadow Consecrated to the Gods", with both considered equally likely.
2014 08 12 114814 Norway Oslo Akershus 1HDR
EXG1-15 Branch Line Society "The far North" excursion with SRPS Diesels 37-403 and Locomotive services Group 37-401 double-heading & Strathspey's 37-674 on the rear are seen on the Grantown Extension, Strathspey Railway
This, in all probability, is an extremely rare shot and especially with 3 Class 37 diesels.
In the distance, top right is the Dulnain Bridge where the "head of steel" is.
Obviously, I can't predict the future (well...I can....just not with any probability of success)...but I can make an educated guess.
One of the joys for me at WOMAD last year was coming across performers who I really wasn't familiar with..and discovering they were great.
One such performer at WOMAD 2010 was certainly Gabby Young who performed (as part of Gabby Young & Other Animals) on the Charlie Gillett stage on Friday evening.
Ms Young has beauty (obviously), but also real musical talent and very obvious (if you see her live) stage presence.
So, my flabber will seldom have been quite so gasted if Gabby Young doesn't become rather mega in the not too distant future.
Certainly, she was a joy to photograph and I wish her (and the Other Animals) the very best.
You can hear some of her music here: www.myspace.com/gabbyyoung
You can see my WOMAD 2010 shots here: WOMAD 2010
You can also view my WOMAD 2009 shots here: WOMAD 2009
My profound thanks are due to Dickie Chappell who arranged my photo pass.
MATH 533 Week 8 Final Exam SET 3
Purchase here
Description
1. (TCO A)Consider the following raw data, which is the result of selecting a random sample of 20 Bank Common Stocks and noting the dividend yields (as a %).
2. (TCO B) The general manager of Oak Place Mall has collected data on where each customer lives and the gender of each customer. A random sample of 500 customers was selected with the results below.
3. (TCO B)In a recent survey, 80% of the citizenry in a community favored the building of a municipal golf course. If you ask 15 citizens about this project, find the probability that
4. (TCO B) A study of homeowners in the 5th congressional district in Maryland found that their annual household incomes are normally distributed with a mean of $41,182 and a standard deviation of $11,990 (based on data from Nielsen Media Research).
5. (TCO C) Until this year, the mean braking distance of a Nikton automobile moving at 60 mi per hour was 175 ft. Nikton engineers have developed what they consider a better braking system. They test the new brake system on a random sample of 81 cars and determine the sample mean braking distance. The results are the following
6. (TCO C) You are in charge of selling advertising for radio station WQAA. The fee you can set for airtime is directly related to the share of the listening market your station reaches. From time to time, you conduct surveys to determine WQAA’s share of the market. This month, when you contacted 200 randomly selected residential phone numbers, 12 respondents said they listen to WQAA
7. (TCO D) Persons living near a smelting plant have complained that the plant violates the city’s noise pollution code. The code states that to be in compliance, noise levels are only allowed to exceed 120 decibels less than 10% of the time. You monitor the noise levels at 150 randomly selected times and found that 11 were above 120 decibels. Does the sample data provide evidence to conclude that the plant is in compliance with the noise pollution code (witha = .05)? Use the hypothesis testing procedure outlined below.
8. (TCO D)Bill Smith is the Worthington Township manager. When citizens request a traffic light, the staff assesses the traffic flow at the requested intersection. Township policy requires the installation of a traffic light when an intersection averages more than 150 vehicles per hour. A random sample of 48 vehicle counts is done. The results are as follows:
(TCO E) Management at New England Life wants to establish the relationship between the number of sales calls made each week (CALLS, X) and the number of sales made each week (SALES, Y). A random sample of 18 life insurance salespeople were surveyed yielding the data found below
(TCO E) A local realtor wishes to study the relationship between selling price (PRICE in $), house size (HOUSESIZE in square feet), lot size (LOTSIZE in acres), and number of bathrooms (BATHROOM). A sample of 10 homes is selected at random. The data is given below (in MINITAB)
History
The church with the downed tower
History of joy and suffering of an old christian time witness of Vienna
The Minoritenkirche in Vienna is one of the oldest and most valuable artistic churches of the city. It is therefore not surprising that it also experienced a very eventful history. In all probability, the Franciscans were - how the Friars Minor (Thomas of Celano: "Ordo Friars Minor" ) also called on account of its founders personality, called by the Babenberg Duke Leopold VI the Glorious, in 1230 into the country. Here he gave them a lot, probably with a church (probably dedicated to St. Catherine of Alexandria), before the walls of the city, between the Scots Monastery (Schottenstift) and the ducal residence. It was not until 1237, and in 1271 the entire area was included in the extended boundary wall. The Minorite Barnabas Strasser says in his chronicle from 1766 that Leopold had asked on his return from the Holy Land in 1219 Francis in Assisi to the relocation of some brothers to Vienna, which was then carried out 1224. The Franciscans, however, are detectable only in 1234 by a bull of Gregory IX . to Frederick the Warlike, the last reigning Babenberg, by the year 1239 there was already the Austrian province. The above-mentioned chapel near the present Minoritenkirche the brothers have now expanded and dedicated it to the Holy Cross ("Santa Croce"). In 1251 the dedication was by the Bishop Berthold of Passau. In addition, the friars began to build a monastery, the 1234 is mentioned in a document (the monastery comprised finally the Ballhausplatz, Minoritenplatz and parts of the Hofburg and the Public Garden) . Of the original Romanesque building stock nothing has been preserved. Especially the great fire of 1276 has cremated large parts of the Convention.
However, the strong growth of the Friars Minor now living in Vienna made a new building of the church and monastery necessary. Already laid by King Otakar II of Bohemia in 1276 the foundation stone for the new building of that temple which was now already on the present site of the church, the monarch also promised tax exemption for all who had contributed to the building of the church.
First stage of construction (beginning in the third third of the 13th century.): So he decided to build new church and convent, but by the death in battle of Ottokar in 1278 at the March Field (Jedlespeigen close Dürnkrut) delayed the construction, thus only after the turn of the century it couldbe completed. The embalmed body of Ottokar remained 30 weeks in the chapter house of the monastery until it was transferred to Znojmo and finally to Prague. The king's heart is buried in the original Chapel of St. Catherine, which was now newly assigned this name because the appropriation should be reserved to the Holy Cross of Christ, the new church and the convent . This newly built house of God was given the shape of a two-aisled nave with zweijochigem (two-bay) long choir (chancel), which closed with the five sides of a decagon. This long choir, the one 1785/86 and changed into a five-storey residential building, was canceled in 1903. In connection with the subway construction (1984-86), although archaeological excavations took place, it also laid the foundations of the former free long-choir, but most of the foundations of the old presbytery were destroyed at the same time. - The first church had a rood screen, even at the turn of the 15th/16th Century the still resulting image of the Saint Francis was attached by an unknown artist. Just from this first phase, we know by the Baroque Minoritenchronik (chronicle) first mentioned the name of a builder, namely brother Hans Schimpffenpfeil .
Second stage of construction (after 1317-1328 ) Blanche (Blanche) of Valois, the wife of Duke Rudolf III . ( 1307) and daughter of Philip the Fair, in 1304 decreed in his will to build a chapel in honor of her grandfather, the Holy King Louis IX. of France (canonized in 1297) and introduced for this purpose in 1000 available books. However, the project was realized only under Isabella (Elizabeth ) of Aragon, wife of King Frederick the Fair (1330 ). The chapel dedicated to their relatives canonized in 1317, St . Louis of Anjou, son of Charles II of Naples, great-nephew of Louis IX . of France and Franciscan archbishop of Toulouse (1297 ); it was first a self- cultivation in the NE (north-east) of the two-aisled nave Minoritenkirche, until the third construction phase it was integrated into the nave (now the north aisle with Anthony's Chapel). In 1328 the chapel was apparently completed because in 1330 the founder - was buried in the chapel of Louis - in terms of her testamentary disposition. The tomb of Queen Isabella stood in the middle of the Kapellenjochs (chapel bay) in front of the apse. The tracery show similarity with those of the Albertine choir of St. Stephen (built by Duke Albrecht II [ 1358] ) as well as with that of the Sanctuary Strassengel near the Cistercian monastery Rein near Graz (around the middle of the 14th century.). Probably belonged to the tympanum with the donor portraits of Frederick the Fair and Isabella at the feet of the Mother of God, which was inserted in the third construction phase of the church in the secondary north portal, the original entrance to the Ludwig chapel. It must be mentioned that even the Duchess Blanche (1305 ) built around 1330 a high early gothic marble grave, which unfortunately disappeared in the course of the renovation of the church in the years 1784-86 by the court architect Johann Ferdinand Hetzendorf of Hohenberg. It would be in Vienna today the only work of art of this kind
Third stage of construction (from 1339 -1400): Construction of a three-aisled hall (originally nave chapel Ludwig). The north wall of the chapel was extended to the west and in the north portal installed a second yoke. In addition, it was built a new west facade, with especially the central portal - including was designed - with jamb - pompous like the French late Gothic - perhaps under South German mediation. In the obituary of the Friars Minor brother Jacob of Paris is called ( around 1340), the confessor Albrecht II as the creator of this work of art. The duke and his wife Johanna von Außenmauer MinoritenkirchePfirt have obviously significantly contributed to the emergence of Vienna undoubtedly unique late Gothic cathedrals three portal group, there is also a representation of Albrecht and his wife in the middle portal next to the cross of Christ. Together with the two for a rich Mendikantenkirche (Mendicity church) this equipment is also of French models (see Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris [after 1285] ) constructed in 1350-1370 with splendid rose windows (with "bright" and "rotating" tracery) to the south wall - unusually without a doubt. The workshop, which built the Ludwig chapel was also busy with the west facade ("Minoritenwerkstatt" (workshop)). 1350-60 or later today, finally, the bell tower was only partially built (as a builder is a lay brother Nicholas, 1385 or 1386 called ). The tower consists mainly of two parts, a lower part made of stone blocks to the height of the nave, and an upper, octagonal section of mixed masonry. Its crown had because of damage - especially been renewed several times and was eventually removed - during the Turkish wars . The consecration of the enlarged Minoritenkirche must have taken place about the year 1390. So that the church had received its valid look for the next time.
In 1529, during the first siege of the monastery and the church even more extensive damage suffering (launch of the spire). Since the monastery of the Observant (Franciscans) had been destroyed by the Turks, these sought to supplant the Franciscans in their convent, where John Capistrano, the founder of the "brown Franciscan" (Observant) in Vienna, lived some time in the Franciscan monastery and in the Church had preached, but eventually instructed the Emperor Ferdinand I the now homeless Observant buildings on Singerschen Platz. In fact, the number of Wiener Friars Minor has then shrunk to seven, so that they felt compelled to call Fathers from Italy. But that but could not prevent that the church from 1569-1620 war a Protestant church. Interestingly, originate numerous coats of arms on the balcony of this period. At that time the Conventual were only in the possession of Louis Chapel and the Chapel of St. Catherine. Also during the second Turkish siege in 1683 the tower served as an observation tower and the Minoritenkirche was accordingly fired by the Turks and severely damaged. In 1733 the tower is adorned with a copper dome, but because of the danger of collapse eventually had to be removed. It brought the church to that low pointed tiled roof, which still exists today .
More and more, the bands developed in the Minoritenkirche, especially Ludwig chapel and cemetery, grave sites of the nobility. Besides Blanche of Valois and Isabella of Aragon and Margaret, the last country Duchess of Tyrol, was named Maultasch ( 1369 ), is buried here, as well as members of Lichtsteiner, Ditrichsteins, Puchaimer, Hojo, Stauffenberger, Greifensteiner; Piccolomini, Medici, Cavalcanti, Montaldi, Valperga, etc. (many of them are listed in the "Libro d'Oro of the "Congregation Italiana"). It should also be mentioned that the Franciscans since the end of the 14th Century took lively interest in teaching at the University of Vienna, especially of course in the subjects of theology, but also the jurisprudence. At the beginning of the 18th Century lived in the Vienna alsoin the Viennese Convention the Venetian cosmographer Br Vincenzo Coronelli, which the Emperor Charles VI. appointed to head the regulation of the Danube and its famous globes are now in the globe collection of the National Library in Vienna.
It is worthnoting, finally, the fact that around 1543 on the Ballhausplatz near the Imperial Palace from parts of the monastery a small hospital was donated and that the Franciscans for 13 years did all the counseling in this new Hofspital, at this time was the newly restored Chapel of St. Catherine Hospital Church. Another wing of the former minority monastery was home to the Imperial Court Library, 1558-1613.
To Minoritenkirche the second half of the 18th Century brought drastic changes. This development was initiated by the fact that the naturalized Italians in Vienna founded an Italian congregation in 1625/26 under the guidance of the Jesuit priest and professor at the University of Vienna Wilhelm Lamormaini. By the year 1773, when the Jesuit Order was temporarily released their Italian trade fairs celebrated this "Congregation Italiana" in a chapel of the Jesuits at Bognergasse, near the old Jesuit church "Am Hof". But in 1773 that little church was by the imperial government requisited. Then the Italians found in St. Catherine Chapel at Ballhausplatz, which popularly still is referred as the Italian church - ie not only the Minoritenkirche - a new home. After a thorough restoration of the chapel was consecrated on 1 February 1775 ceremony in memory of the "Santa Maria Maggiore" to Rome in the name of "Madonna della Neve" (Mary Snow church'). The Holy Mass conducted Antonio Salieri (1750-1825), who was in 1774 chamber composer and conductor of the Italian opera in Vienna, from 1788-90 to 1824 Kapellmeister and Director of the Court Chapel. Pope Pius VI . visited during his stay in Vienna on Good Friday of 1782 the church "Maria Schnee" on the Ballhausplatz. But this state of the law was short-lived: in 1783 Emperor Joseph II shifted the Friars Minor in the former Trinitarian on Alserstrasse, and the Minoritenkirche was on the grounds that the chapel "p Maria della Neve" for about 7,000 Italians living in Vienna was too small, the Congregation italiana transferred to the condition that the Community had now to restore the Great Church (imperial decree of June 3, 1784). The richly decorated chapel "Madonna della Neve" went on an imperial property and was finally in the late 18th Century canceled. Also, the Franciscan monastery passed into state ownership: one is used for imperial and feudal law firms. The cemetery near the church was abandoned. With the greatest financial burdens now led the congregation from the imperial mission of the church renovation, the thorough repair of the church was entrusted to the court architect Johann Ferdinand Hetzendorf of Hohenberg (1784-1789). In order to cover the construction costs somewhat, were the old long choir (chancel) and the beginning of the 14th Century. (Consecrated in 1317 ) at the western end of the south side of the nave grown (and now defunct) St. John's Chapel (Chapel Puchaimische Kapelle ) converted into residences. The solemn consecration of the church under the name of "Madonna della Neve" took place on 16 April 1786, on Easter Sunday.
But soon was moving closer to the church the next hardship: In the years of the Napoleonic wars, the church should serve as a warehouse for straw, hay and for different equipment, so in 1809 also the forced evacuation of the building took place. Shortly after engaging the French eventually turned this into a provisions store. Two-thirds of the floor was smashed by the rolling of drums and by the retraction of cars. In the middle of the church a wide, tunnel-like cavity had been excavated and other parts of the floor destroyed a in God's house capped oven. Until 18 April 1810, the then Prefect of the Minoritenkirche received back the church keys. In 1825 died one of the most famous Kongregaten (congregats) of this century, namely, the composer Antonio Salieri, and on 22 June this year resounded in the Italian national church with the participation of the court chapel and the first Hofchores (court choir) the Verdi Requiem.
As the situation after the Napoleonic war turmoil in the mid-19th Century had normalized, Emperor Ferdinand the Good in 1845 donated to the "Congregation italiana" the according to the model of Leonardo da Vinci's famous fresco (1495-97) designed mosaic of the Last Supper, which the Roman Giacomo Raffaelli of 12 panels with a total weight of 20 tons by Napoleon's orders had made in the years 1806-1814, and was eventually bought by Emperor Franz for the Belvedere Palace. To that gave Emperor Ferdinand a considerable amount (8000 guilders) to allow the mounting of the work of art in the Minoritenkirche. The inauguration of the altar took place on 26nd in March 1847. In 1852 Emperor Franz Joseph came and soon the Crown Prince Franz Ferdinand in the "Congregation ". The former paid each year mostly coming from out of town fast preachers for the Church, in return he regularly received at the Festival of Lights (2 February) as well as on Palm Sunday the sacred candle or the olive branch.
The last major change in the church took place in the years 1892-1905 at the restructuring of the Minoritenplatz. Now two new courses, namely the Ballhausplatz and Minoritenplatz emerged, the houses adjacent to the church (former Long John's Chapel Choir and) were demolished. The former Franciscan monastery had to give way to the House, Court and State Archives. Even the church was given a new face, although the plans of the architect Viktor Luntz due to financial reasons only could be realized partially, there were clearly visible changes: Most noticeable to the viewer is undoubtedly the Gothic passage on the south side of the walled grave stones originated partly from the bands, and part of the adjacent once cemetery, as well as the above installed "Minoritenhaus". 1907 were placed in the tower four new bells cast in Trento, which is, however - with the exception of one, St. Anthony ordained, Bell - 1914 confiscated. The solemn consecration of the church took place on 4 Held in May 1909 in the presence of Emperor Franz Joseph. Due to the highly cooperative attitude of the Congregation towards the transformation plans of the City of Vienna Lueger, the mayor promised that the court should never be installed directly behind the church.
More important restoration work was carried out 1960-1962 (church affairs), in the last decade, as the outer walls have been restored.
About Minoritenplatz finally should be mentioned that the pastoral care of Italians after 1786 by each rectors appointed by the Archbishop was, from 1808 to 1813 was also here Clemens Maria Hofbauer who died 1820 and later was canonized working as a church rector. Therefore, there is also his monument on the north side of the church. Since the year 1953, and officially by the order of the archbishop Ordinariate of 1 December 1957 is the Friars Minor transmitted the pastoral care of the Italian community again, firstly the Fathers belonging to the Order of Padua Province while they are under the Austrian province today. In the year 2003, ie 50 years after the adoption of the pastoral care of Italians in the Minoritenkirche by the Conventual, that Francis statue was made, nowadays, it is located on the north side of the church, next to the Baroque cultivation.
(Text by Dr. Manfred Zips , Ital. Congregation )
The Grand Canyon NP & Grand Escalante Staircase! 45Epic Dr. Elliot McGucken ! Point Imperial! Fine Landscape and Nature Photography. Join my new 45EPIC fine art landscapes page on facebook!
facebook.com/mcgucken
Working on a couple photography books! 45EPIC GODDESS PHOTOGRAPHY: A classic guide to exalting the archetypal woman. And 45EPIC Fine Art Landscape Photography!
Fresh snow! More on my golden ratio musings: facebook.com/goldennumberratio
instagram.com/goldennumberratio
Greetings all! I have been busy finishing a few books on photography, while traveling all over--to Zion and the Sierras--shooting fall colors. Please see some here: facebook.com/mcgucken
Let me know in the comments if you would like a free review copy of one of my photography books! :)
Titles include:
The Tao of Epic Landscape Photography: Exalt Fine Art with the Yin-Yang Wisdom of Lao Tzu's Tao Te Ching!
The Golden Number Ratio Principle: Why the Fibonacci Numbers Exalt Beauty and How to Create PHI Compositions in Art, Design, & Photography
facebook.com/goldennumberratio
And I am also working on a book on photographing the goddesses! :) More goddesses soon!
Best wishes on your epic hero's odyssey!:)
I love voyaging forth into nature to contemplate poetry, physics, the golden ratio, and the Tao te Ching! What's your favorite epic poetry reflecting epic landscapes? I recently finished a book titled Epic Poetry for Epic Landscape Photographers:
www.facebook.com/Epic-Poetry-for-Epic-Landscape-Photograp...
Did you know that John Muir, Thoreau, and Emerson all loved epic poetry and poets including Shakespeare, Milton, Homer, and Robert Burns?
I recently finished my fourth book on Light Time Dimension Theory, much of which was inspired by an autumn trip to Zion!
www.facebook.com/lightimedimensiontheory/
Via its simple principle of a fourth expanding dimension, LTD Theory provides a unifying, foundational *physical* model underlying relativity, quantum mechanics, time and all its arrows and asymmetries, and the second law of thermodynamics. The detailed diagrams demonstrate that the great mysteries of quantum mechanical nonlocality, entanglement, and probability naturally arise from the very same principle that fosters relativity alongside light's constant velocity, the equivalence of mass and energy, and time dilation.
Follow me on instagram!
Join my new 45EPIC fine art landscapes page on facebook!
History
The church with the dowend tower
History of joy and suffering of an old christian time witness of Vienna
The Minoritenkirche in Vienna is one of the oldest and most valuable artistic churches of the city. It is therefore not surprising that it also experienced a very eventful history. In all probability, the Franciscans were - how the Friars Minor (Thomas of Celano: "Ordo Friars Minor" ) also called on account of its founders personality, called by the Babenberg Duke Leopold VI the Glorious, in 1230 into the country. Here he gave them a lot, probably with a church (probably dedicated to St. Catherine of Alexandria), before the walls of the city, between the Scots Monastery (Schottenstift) and the ducal residence. It was not until 1237, and in 1271 the entire area was included in the extended boundary wall. The Minorite Barnabas Strasser says in his chronicle from 1766 that Leopold had asked on his return from the Holy Land in 1219 Francis in Assisi to the relocation of some brothers to Vienna, which was then carried out 1224. The Franciscans, however, are detectable only in 1234 by a bull of Gregory IX . to Frederick the Warlike, the last reigning Babenberg, by the year 1239 there was already the Austrian province. The above-mentioned chapel near the present Minoritenkirche the brothers have now expanded and dedicated it to the Holy Cross ("Santa Croce"). In 1251 the dedication was by the Bishop Berthold of Passau. In addition, the friars began to build a monastery, the 1234 is mentioned in a document (the monastery comprised finally the Ballhausplatz, Minoritenplatz and parts of the Hofburg and the Public Garden) . Of the original Romanesque building stock nothing has been preserved. Especially the great fire of 1276 has cremated large parts of the Convention.
However, the strong growth of the Friars Minor now living in Vienna made a new building of the church and monastery necessary. Already laid by King Otakar II of Bohemia in 1276 the foundation stone for the new building of that temple which was now already on the present site of the church, the monarch also promised tax exemption for all who had contributed to the building of the church.
First stage of construction (beginning in the third third of the 13th century.): So he decided to build new church and convent, but by the death in battle of Ottokar in 1278 at the March Field (Jedlespeigen close Dürnkrut) delayed the construction, thus only after the turn of the century it couldbe completed. The embalmed body of Ottokar remained 30 weeks in the chapter house of the monastery until it was transferred to Znojmo and finally to Prague. The king's heart is buried in the original Chapel of St. Catherine, which was now newly assigned this name because the appropriation should be reserved to the Holy Cross of Christ, the new church and the convent . This newly built house of God was given the shape of a two-aisled nave with zweijochigem (two-bay) long choir (chancel), which closed with the five sides of a decagon. This long choir, the one 1785/86 and changed into a five-storey residential building, was canceled in 1903. In connection with the subway construction (1984-86), although archaeological excavations took place, it also laid the foundations of the former free long-choir, but most of the foundations of the old presbytery were destroyed at the same time. - The first church had a rood screen, even at the turn of the 15th/16th Century the still resulting image of the Saint Francis was attached by an unknown artist. Just from this first phase, we know by the Baroque Minoritenchronik (chronicle) first mentioned the name of a builder, namely brother Hans Schimpffenpfeil .
Second stage of construction (after 1317-1328 ) Blanche (Blanche) of Valois, the wife of Duke Rudolf III . ( 1307) and daughter of Philip the Fair, in 1304 decreed in his will to build a chapel in honor of her grandfather, the Holy King Louis IX. of France (canonized in 1297) and introduced for this purpose in 1000 available books. However, the project was realized only under Isabella (Elizabeth ) of Aragon, wife of King Frederick the Fair (1330 ). The chapel dedicated to their relatives canonized in 1317, St . Louis of Anjou, son of Charles II of Naples, great-nephew of Louis IX . of France and Franciscan archbishop of Toulouse (1297 ); it was first a self- cultivation in the NE (north-east) of the two-aisled nave Minoritenkirche, until the third construction phase it was integrated into the nave (now the north aisle with Anthony's Chapel). In 1328 the chapel was apparently completed because in 1330 the founder - was buried in the chapel of Louis - in terms of her testamentary disposition. The tomb of Queen Isabella stood in the middle of the Kapellenjochs (chapel bay) in front of the apse. The tracery show similarity with those of the Albertine choir of St. Stephen (built by Duke Albrecht II [ 1358] ) as well as with that of the Sanctuary Strassengel near the Cistercian monastery Rein near Graz (around the middle of the 14th century.). Probably belonged to the tympanum with the donor portraits of Frederick the Fair and Isabella at the feet of the Mother of God, which was inserted in the third construction phase of the church in the secondary north portal, the original entrance to the Ludwig chapel. It must be mentioned that even the Duchess Blanche (1305 ) built around 1330 a high early gothic marble grave, which unfortunately disappeared in the course of the renovation of the church in the years 1784-86 by the court architect Johann Ferdinand Hetzendorf of Hohenberg. It would be in Vienna today the only work of art of this kind
Third stage of construction (from 1339 -1400): Construction of a three-aisled hall (originally nave chapel Ludwig). The north wall of the chapel was extended to the west and in the north portal installed a second yoke. In addition, it was built a new west facade, with especially the central portal - including was designed - with jamb - pompous like the French late Gothic - perhaps under South German mediation. In the obituary of the Friars Minor brother Jacob of Paris is called ( around 1340), the confessor Albrecht II as the creator of this work of art. The duke and his wife Johanna von Außenmauer MinoritenkirchePfirt have obviously significantly contributed to the emergence of Vienna undoubtedly unique late Gothic cathedrals three portal group, there is also a representation of Albrecht and his wife in the middle portal next to the cross of Christ. Together with the two for a rich Mendikantenkirche (Mendicity church) this equipment is also of French models (see Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris [after 1285] ) constructed in 1350-1370 with splendid rose windows (with "bright" and "rotating" tracery) to the south wall - unusually without a doubt. The workshop, which built the Ludwig chapel was also busy with the west facade ("Minoritenwerkstatt" (workshop)). 1350-60 or later today, finally, the bell tower was only partially built (as a builder is a lay brother Nicholas, 1385 or 1386 called ). The tower consists mainly of two parts, a lower part made of stone blocks to the height of the nave, and an upper, octagonal section of mixed masonry. Its crown had because of damage - especially been renewed several times and was eventually removed - during the Turkish wars . The consecration of the enlarged Minoritenkirche must have taken place about the year 1390. So that the church had received its valid look for the next time.
In 1529, during the first siege of the monastery and the church even more extensive damage suffering (launch of the spire). Since the monastery of the Observant (Franciscans) had been destroyed by the Turks, these sought to supplant the Franciscans in their convent, where John Capistrano, the founder of the "brown Franciscan" (Observant) in Vienna, lived some time in the Franciscan monastery and in the Church had preached, but eventually instructed the Emperor Ferdinand I the now homeless Observant buildings on Singerschen Platz. In fact, the number of Wiener Friars Minor has then shrunk to seven, so that they felt compelled to call Fathers from Italy. But that but could not prevent that the church from 1569-1620 war a Protestant church. Interestingly, originate numerous coats of arms on the balcony of this period. At that time the Conventual were only in the possession of Louis Chapel and the Chapel of St. Catherine. Also during the second Turkish siege in 1683 the tower served as an observation tower and the Minoritenkirche was accordingly fired by the Turks and severely damaged. In 1733 the tower is adorned with a copper dome, but because of the danger of collapse eventually had to be removed. It brought the church to that low pointed tiled roof, which still exists today .
More and more, the bands developed in the Minoritenkirche, especially Ludwig chapel and cemetery, grave sites of the nobility. Besides Blanche of Valois and Isabella of Aragon and Margaret, the last country Duchess of Tyrol, was named Maultasch ( 1369 ), is buried here, as well as members of Lichtsteiner, Ditrichsteins, Puchaimer, Hojo, Stauffenberger, Greifensteiner; Piccolomini, Medici, Cavalcanti, Montaldi, Valperga, etc. (many of them are listed in the "Libro d'Oro of the "Congregation Italiana"). It should also be mentioned that the Franciscans since the end of the 14th Century took lively interest in teaching at the University of Vienna, especially of course in the subjects of theology, but also the jurisprudence. At the beginning of the 18th Century lived in the Vienna alsoin the Viennese Convention the Venetian cosmographer Br Vincenzo Coronelli, which the Emperor Charles VI. appointed to head the regulation of the Danube and its famous globes are now in the globe collection of the National Library in Vienna.
It is worthnoting, finally, the fact that around 1543 on the Ballhausplatz near the Imperial Palace from parts of the monastery a small hospital was donated and that the Franciscans for 13 years did all the counseling in this new Hofspital, at this time was the newly restored Chapel of St. Catherine Hospital Church. Another wing of the former minority monastery was home to the Imperial Court Library, 1558-1613.
To Minoritenkirche the second half of the 18th Century brought drastic changes. This development was initiated by the fact that the naturalized Italians in Vienna founded an Italian congregation in 1625/26 under the guidance of the Jesuit priest and professor at the University of Vienna Wilhelm Lamormaini. By the year 1773, when the Jesuit Order was temporarily released their Italian trade fairs celebrated this "Congregation Italiana" in a chapel of the Jesuits at Bognergasse, near the old Jesuit church "Am Hof". But in 1773 that little church was by the imperial government requisited. Then the Italians found in St. Catherine Chapel at Ballhausplatz, which popularly still is referred as the Italian church - ie not only the Minoritenkirche - a new home. After a thorough restoration of the chapel was consecrated on 1 February 1775 ceremony in memory of the "Santa Maria Maggiore" to Rome in the name of "Madonna della Neve" (Mary Snow church'). The Holy Mass conducted Antonio Salieri (1750-1825), who was in 1774 chamber composer and conductor of the Italian opera in Vienna, from 1788-90 to 1824 Kapellmeister and Director of the Court Chapel. Pope Pius VI . visited during his stay in Vienna on Good Friday of 1782 the church "Maria Schnee" on the Ballhausplatz. But this state of the law was short-lived: in 1783 Emperor Joseph II shifted the Friars Minor in the former Trinitarian on Alserstrasse, and the Minoritenkirche was on the grounds that the chapel "p Maria della Neve" for about 7,000 Italians living in Vienna was too small, the Congregation italiana transferred to the condition that the Community had now to restore the Great Church (imperial decree of June 3, 1784). The richly decorated chapel "Madonna della Neve" went on an imperial property and was finally in the late 18th Century canceled. Also, the Franciscan monastery passed into state ownership: one is used for imperial and feudal law firms. The cemetery near the church was abandoned. With the greatest financial burdens now led the congregation from the imperial mission of the church renovation, the thorough repair of the church was entrusted to the court architect Johann Ferdinand Hetzendorf of Hohenberg (1784-1789). In order to cover the construction costs somewhat, were the old long choir (chancel) and the beginning of the 14th Century. (Consecrated in 1317 ) at the western end of the south side of the nave grown (and now defunct) St. John's Chapel (Chapel Puchaimische Kapelle ) converted into residences. The solemn consecration of the church under the name of "Madonna della Neve" took place on 16 April 1786, on Easter Sunday.
But soon was moving closer to the church the next hardship: In the years of the Napoleonic wars, the church should serve as a warehouse for straw, hay and for different equipment, so in 1809 also the forced evacuation of the building took place. Shortly after engaging the French eventually turned this into a provisions store. Two-thirds of the floor was smashed by the rolling of drums and by the retraction of cars. In the middle of the church a wide, tunnel-like cavity had been excavated and other parts of the floor destroyed a in God's house capped oven. Until 18 April 1810, the then Prefect of the Minoritenkirche received back the church keys. In 1825 died one of the most famous Kongregaten (congregats) of this century, namely, the composer Antonio Salieri, and on 22 June this year resounded in the Italian national church with the participation of the court chapel and the first Hofchores (court choir) the Verdi Requiem.
As the situation after the Napoleonic war turmoil in the mid-19th Century had normalized, Emperor Ferdinand the Good in 1845 donated to the "Congregation italiana" the according to the model of Leonardo da Vinci's famous fresco (1495-97) designed mosaic of the Last Supper, which the Roman Giacomo Raffaelli of 12 panels with a total weight of 20 tons by Napoleon's orders had made in the years 1806-1814, and was eventually bought by Emperor Franz for the Belvedere Palace. To that gave Emperor Ferdinand a considerable amount (8000 guilders) to allow the mounting of the work of art in the Minoritenkirche. The inauguration of the altar took place on 26nd in March 1847. In 1852 Emperor Franz Joseph came and soon the Crown Prince Franz Ferdinand in the "Congregation ". The former paid each year mostly coming from out of town fast preachers for the Church, in return he regularly received at the Festival of Lights (2 February) as well as on Palm Sunday the sacred candle or the olive branch.
The last major change in the church took place in the years 1892-1905 at the restructuring of the Minoritenplatz. Now two new courses, namely the Ballhausplatz and Minoritenplatz emerged, the houses adjacent to the church (former Long John's Chapel Choir and) were demolished. The former Franciscan monastery had to give way to the House, Court and State Archives. Even the church was given a new face, although the plans of the architect Viktor Luntz due to financial reasons only could be realized partially, there were clearly visible changes: Most noticeable to the viewer is undoubtedly the Gothic passage on the south side of the walled grave stones originated partly from the bands, and part of the adjacent once cemetery, as well as the above installed "Minoritenhaus". 1907 were placed in the tower four new bells cast in Trento, which is, however - with the exception of one, St. Anthony ordained, Bell - 1914 confiscated. The solemn consecration of the church took place on 4 Held in May 1909 in the presence of Emperor Franz Joseph. Due to the highly cooperative attitude of the Congregation towards the transformation plans of the City of Vienna Lueger, the mayor promised that the court should never be installed directly behind the church.
More important restoration work was carried out 1960-1962 (church affairs), in the last decade, as the outer walls have been restored.
About Minoritenplatz finally should be mentioned that the pastoral care of Italians after 1786 by each rectors appointed by the Archbishop was, from 1808 to 1813 was also here Clemens Maria Hofbauer who died 1820 and later was canonized working as a church rector. Therefore, there is also his monument on the north side of the church. Since the year 1953, and officially by the order of the archbishop Ordinariate of 1 December 1957 is the Friars Minor transmitted the pastoral care of the Italian community again, firstly the Fathers belonging to the Order of Padua Province while they are under the Austrian province today. In the year 2003, ie 50 years after the adoption of the pastoral care of Italians in the Minoritenkirche by the Conventual, that Francis statue was made, nowadays, it is located on the north side of the church, next to the Baroque cultivation.
(Text by Dr. Manfred Zips , Ital. Congregation )
This very stylish modernist Swiss lapel badge (maker, Paul Kramer, Neuchâtel), dates to the 1950s and symbolises E.Paillard's, Hermes typewriter range of machines. The clean lines of the trademark mirror the chic styling of their typewriters (in all probability a Hermes Baby), as well as the precision engineering that's so typical of Swiss products and amplified of course through its renowned watchmaking industry. The Swiss company that made the Hermes range was E. Paillard & Co. of Yverdon in the canton of Vaud.
Hermes typewriters debuted in the 1920s and its most significant range was the Hermes Baby, an astonishingly portable typewriter for the period with typical Hermes build quality. The Hermes Baby was introduced in 1935 and quickly became the preferred choice of authors and writers of the day. Hermes promotional literature played on its lightness, compact size and portability- in many ways the first successful type of laptop and highly sought-after. It was often described as the world's most popular 'small' typewriter and its mechanisms remained virtually unchanged for the duration of its four decade or so production period. In English speaking countries, the Hermes Baby was also known as the 'Featherweight' or the 'Hermes Rocket'.
Photography, layout and design: Argy58
(This image also exists as a high resolution jpeg and tiff - ideal for a variety of print sizes
e.g. A4, A3, A2 and A1. The current uploaded format is for screen based viewing only: 72pi)
... I have always believed in magic and I also believe there is magic in the Taj Mahal. Reach out put your index finger on the Taj and see if you feel anything.
I am in the middle of several magic moments now and am so deeply involved I can't talk about them yet. I'll be back and explain everything. My beloved and blessed family in Agra who adopted me as an uncle have triggered this deep obsession I am now experiencing and very soon I'll tell you all about it. Do you find magic in your life that other people try to pawn off as "coincidence?"
Here is a perfectly good argument for the theory of coincidence, but it doesn't alter my belief in magic., because it doesn't all for the catalyst effect within human behavior:
In today's excerpt--eerie coincidences. Things often happen that seem like omens or fateful coincidences-the pianist at the bar starts playing a song you'd just been thinking of, or you pass the window of a pawnshop and see the heirloom ring that had been stolen from your apartment eighteen months ago, or a long lost friend calls just after you learn of a personal tragedy. Natalie Angier explains that often things we view as omens are instead reasonably probably outcomes:
"The more one knows about probabilities, the less amazing the most woo-woo coincidences become. ...
"John Littlewood, a renowned mathematician at the University of Cambridge, formalized the apparent intrusion of the supernatural into ordinary life as a kind of natural law, which he called 'Littlewood's Law of Miracles.' He defined a 'miracle' as many people might: a one-in-a-million event to which we accord real significance when it occurs. By his law, such 'miracles' arise in anyone's life at an average of once a month. Here's how Littlewood explained it: You are out and about and barraged by the world for some eight hours a day. You see and hear things happening at a rate of maybe one per second, amounting to 30,000 or so 'events' a day, or a million per month. The vast majority of events you barely notice, but every so often, from the great stream of happenings, you are treated to a marvel: the pianist at the bar starts playing a song you'd just been thinking of, or you pass the window of a pawnshop and see the heirloom ring that had been stolen from your apartment eighteen months ago. Yes, life is full of miracles, minor, major, middling C. It's called 'not being in a persistent vegetative state' and 'having a life span longer than a click beetle's.'
"And because there is nothing more miraculous than birth, [Professor] Deborah Nolan also likes to wow her new students with the famous birthday game. I'll bet you, she says, that at least two people in this room have the same birthday. The sixty-five people glance around at one another and see nothing close to a year's offering of days represented, and they're dubious. Nolan starts at one end of the classroom, asks the student her birthday, writes it on the blackboard, moves to the next, and jots likewise, and pretty soon, yup, a duplicate emerges. How can that be, the students wonder, with less than 20 percent of 365 on hand to choose from (or 366 if you want to be leap-year sure of it)? First, Nolan reminds them of what they're talking about--not the odds of matching a particular birthday, but of finding a match, any match, somewhere in their classroom sample.
"She then has them think about the problem from the other direction: What are the odds of them not finding a match? That figure, she demonstrates, falls rapidly as they proceed. Each time a new birth date is added to the list, another day is dinged from the possible 365 that could subsequently be cited without a match. Yet each time the next person is about to announce a birthday, the pool the student theoretically will pick from remains what it always was--365. One number is shrinking, in other words, while the other remains the same, and because the odds here are calculated on the basis of comparing (through multiplication and division) the initial fixed set of possible options with an ever diminishing set of permissible ones, the probability of finding no birthday match in a group of sixty-five plunges rapidly to below 1 percent. Of course, the prediction is only a probability, not a guarantee. For all its abstract and counterintuitive texture, however, the statistic proves itself time and again in Nolan's classroom a dexterous gauge of reality.
"If you're not looking for such a high degree of confidence, she adds, but are willing to settle for a fifty-fifty probability of finding a shared birthday in a gathering, the necessary number of participants accordingly can be cut to twenty-three."
Natalie Angier, The Canon, Houghton Mifflin, Copyright 2007 by Natalie Angier, pp. 50-52.
This is great information, but my main strategy was to dump all the rationalist readers who don't believe in magic and will have tired of the subject by now. The thing about rationalists is they can only accept what is right in front of their eyes. They haven't yet conceived of the catalyst syndrome. Everything catalyzes everything else to some extension of themselves.
When we read a book like Helter Skelter, we can see vividly how one evil person can catalyze many others to do evil deeds they probably would not have otherwise done, but do we see the things we do everyday because we are catalzyed to do them. Suggestion is a powerful catalyst.
I asked you to reach out and touch the Taj and see if you can feel any energy passing from the Taj into yourself. That suggestion is the catalyst that will possibly trigger the magic that is within you to some additonal condition.
When Sherry left school teaching and went to Perkins Seminary to be trained for the United Methodist ministry, we moved from Corpus Christi to Dallas. Very soon, I saw the money we had saved would not last all that long, so I intensifed my efforts to find a job.
In Corpus I had been the manager of a large commerical coatings store that did a volume of several million dollars per year. In Dallas i took a job as clerk in a retail/commerical paint store, where I waited on customers, took orders over the phone, matched colors for painters and decorators and even mopped the floors every now and then. I certainly swept up every day and of course I was working for a fraction of what I had been making in Corpus Christi.
The magic came in the form of a phone call offering me a job as a manufacturer's representative representing eight different industrial companies. The draw against commissions was twice what I had ever made in my life. So, though I was gone a lot, did a lot of driving and quite a bit of flying. Sherry finished seminary with our finances in great shape and was assigned two small churches in Guadalupe County, Staples and Kingsbury. Then the bottom fell out.
We laughed and talked about how God had a sense of humor, giving me that great job for exactly the number of months it took to get Sherry through seminary. I don't really think that a God, who looks like an old man in a white beard orchestrated this transaction. I think there were a series of catalyzing incidents in my life, that caused me to in some way impress a man I hardly knew, so that when he had this great positon open, upon hearing I was living in the Dallas are was motivated to offer me that wonderful job.
Once the job was over, a rationalist would have said to seek another overpaid job as some other sort of manufacturer's representative. However, at that depressed time, the research and development chemists who were the creators of the very products I was selling, were having to take jobs as crew chiefs on paint crews doing industrial maintenance work and even some were driving taxi cabs. I had to make another decision.
While still in high school, my daughter had been doing forensic composite drawings for the Texas Rangers and asked me to help her improve her basic drawing skills. In doing that I picked up the rules of composite drawing and while I was still working as a sales representative I had been doing composite drawings for several police agencies in the Central Texas Area. To make a long story short, I decided to do something I'd always wanted to do and that was to become a cop. I was fifty-eight years old and knew it would be hard to find a police agency willing to hire me.
I put myself through the San Antonio College Police Academy at night and once I'd become a licensed police officer began to actively look for a job. I found one with the University Police in San Marcos, Texas. After working only one year on patrol, I was offered and accepted the position of criminal investigator. This is the job from which I retired. Police work gave me the happiest fifteen years of my whole life and without that earlier economic recession I would never had experienced it. Through this transaction there were many catalysts, but the magic was quite evident to me.
What I'm getting at here is the magic that has happened to me on Flickr, the magic of great friends who created the fun in Mr. Bill's Geriatric Ward Group, the magic of my deep friendship with my Flickr friend dharmensingh and his wonderful family. I'm telling you this to express my gratitude to you for your part in the magic and to ask you to look for the magic in your life. So, go ahead, reach out and touch the Taj. It could change your whole life.
When I come back I want to tell you the magic of Madellaine and my brief friendship with her and the magic that brought us together. I'm sorry this isn't edited. I'm a poor editor at best and will eventually get around to it.
The Ryan Fire was reported late Saturday night, Sept. 15 and one day later has burned 1,832 acres of National Forest at the Colorado/Wyoming state line.
Point of origin for the fire is in Jackson County, Colo. in the extreme northern tip of the Mount Zirkel Wilderness, Routt National Forest. However, as of Sunday evening, Sept. 16 the fire had burned northeast and had crossed the state line into Carbon County, Wyo. and the Medicine Bow National Forest.
After discovery, helicopters and fire crews were initially able to implement suppression efforts on the fire until high winds fueled rapid fire growth mid-day Sunday, forcing personnel and aerial resources to disengage. At that point, efforts were focused on evacuating hunters and campers that were nearby. As of Sunday evening, it was reported that all known, occupied camps and hunters in the path of the fire had been successfully evacuated.
Due to extreme fire growth on Sunday, a broad area closure has been put in place by the U.S. Forest Service. This time of year, the main public impact of an area closure is to hunters. The Ryan Fire area closure will affect game management unit 161 in Colorado, and in Wyoming, elk area 13 and deer area 81.
Within the area closure is the entire east/west length of Forest Road 80, a portion of the Mount Zirkel Wilderness, and the Hog Park Guard Station in Jackson County, Colo. In Carbon County, Wyo. the area closure includes the south side of Forest Roads 496 and 404, as well as the area around Blackhall Mountain.
Smoke from the Ryan Fire was widely visible on Sunday from locations throughout northern Colorado and southern Wyoming. The fire origin is approximately 20 miles northwest of Walden, Colo., three miles southeast of Hog Park Guard Station, two miles south of the state line, and two miles west of Buffalo Ridge Trailhead.
As complexity of the fire has quickly increased, so has elevation of management, beginning with Type IV at initial response, Type III command will be in place on Monday, and then transfer to Rocky Mountain Black Type II Incident Management Team on Tuesday.
It is approximated that 50 personnel are now working the fire, with more on the way.
No structures have been destroyed by the fire or are immediately at risk. The nearest structures to the fire are approximately three miles to the northeast in Wyoming at Big Creek and Jerry Parks.
There is no current containment of the Ryan Fire. The blaze is burning mainly lodgepole pine, both live and bug-killed timber. Cause of the fire is under investigation and no injuries have been reported.
Fire managers are implementing a full suppression strategy to fight the fire and will take direct actions where it is effective and safe to do so, with the highest probability of success.
Two players either take turns spinning and firing the revolver so that each successive turn has an equal probability of failure, or, the players simply take turns without spinning the cylinders until one is shot . Assuming a common 6 round cylinder, the probability of failure after spinning is approximately 1/6th. (This is affected by weight of the bullet, direction spin and angle the gun is held at while spinning the cylinder.) If playing with more than two players, without re-spinning, the initial probability of each player for being killed is 1/6th, but the probability of being killed changes every time the trigger is pulled. The second player has a 1/5th (20%) probability of being killed, and the probability of the third player 1/4th (25%). Until the sixth player when the chance of being killed is 1/1 (100%) assuming the cartridge works (however, since the probability of the 6th player getting to pull the trigger is equal to the probability of the first five not being killed, the initial probability of him being killed is (5/6) * (4/5) * (3/4) * (2/3) * (1/2) = 1/6, the same as the first player's chance). In the former case, where they re-spin the chamber, the game could continue, indefinitely and gamblers could presumably only wager on which players will survive and how many turns the game will last.
Nearly halfway through the month, and it's the weekend again, and the the good news is that the sore throat I had on Friday went and did not return.
Which is nice.
Jools's cough, however, which seemed like it was getting better, returned slightly on Friday evening, and would again on Saturday. We had tockets to see Public Service Bradcasting again, this time in Margate, but our hearts were not in it, if I'm honest, and in the end we decided not to go in light of her coughing, but also as I said, we saw them a month back, though this would be a different show.
And Norwich were on the tellybox, what could be better than watching that?
Anything, as it turned out.
But that was for later.
We went to Tesco, a little later than usual, as we had slept in rather, then back home for breakfast before the decision on what to do for the day. Jools decided to stay home to bead and read, I would go out.
There are three churches near to home that I feel I needed to revisit, St Margaret's itself I should be able to get the key from the village shop at any time, but St Mary in Dover hasn't been open the last few times I have been in town, and Barfrestone was closed most of the year due to vandalism.
But Saturday morning there is usually a coffee morning in St Mary, so I went down armed with camera and lenses to take more shots of the details, especially of the windows.
There was a small group with the Vicar, talking in one of the chapels, so I made busy getting my shots, just happy that the church was open. I left a fiver with the vicar, and walked back to the car, passing the old guy supping from a tin of cider sitting outside the church hall.
-------------------------------------------------
In the heart of the town with a prominent twelfth-century tower. From the outside it is obvious that much work was carried out in the nineteenth century. The church has major connections with the Lord Wardens of the Cinque Ports and is much used for ceremonial services. The western bays of the nave with their low semi-circular arches are contemporary with the tower, while the pointed arches to the east are entirely nineteenth century. The scale and choice of stone is entirely wrong, although the carving is very well done. However the east end, with its tall narrow lancet windows, is not so successful. The Royal Arms, of the reign of William and Mary, are of carved and painted wood, with a French motto - Jay Maintendray - instead of the more usual Dieu et Mon Droit. The church was badly damaged in the Second World War, but one of the survivors was the typical Norman font of square Purbeck marble construction. One of the more recent additions to the church is the Herald of Free Enterprise memorial window of 1989 designed by Frederick Cole.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Dover+1
-------------------------------------------
THE TOWN AND PORT OF DOVER.
DOVER lies at the eastern extremity of Kent, adjoining to the sea, the great high London road towards France ending at it. It lies adjoining to the parish of Charlton last-described, eastward, in the lath of St. Augustine and eastern division of the county. It is within the liberty of the cinque ports, and the juristion of the corporation of the town and port of Dover.
DOVER, written in the Latin Itinerary of Antonine, Dubris. By the Saxons, Dorsa, and Dofris. By later historians, Doveria; and in the book of Domesday, Dovere; took its name most probably from the British words, Dufir, signifying water, or Dusirrha, high and steep, alluding to the cliffs adjoining to it. (fn. 1)
It is situated at the extremity of a wide and spacious valley, inclosed on each side by high and steep hills or cliffs, and making allowance for the sea's withdrawing itself from between them, answers well to the description given of it by Julius Cæfar in his Commentaries.
In the middle space, between this chain of high cliffs, in a break or opening, lies the town of Dover and its harbour, which latter, before the sea was shut out, so late as the Norman conquest, was situated much more within the land than it is at present, as will be further noticed hereafter.
ON THE SUMMIT of one of these cliffs, of sudden and stupendous height, close on the north side of the town and harbour, stands DOVER CASTLE, so famous and renowned in all the histories of former times. It is situated so exceeding high, that it is at most times plainly to be seen from the lowest lands on the coast of France, and as far beyond as the eye can discern. Its size, for it contains within it thirty five acres of ground, six of which are taken up by the antient buildings, gives it the appearance of a small city, having its citadel conspicuous in the midst of it, with extensive fortifications, around its walls. The hill, or rather rock, on which it stands, is ragged and steep towards the town and harbour; but towards the sea, it is a perpendicular precipice of a wonderful height, being more than three hundred and twenty feet high, from its basis on the shore.
Common tradition supposes, that Julius Cæfar was the builder of this castle, as well as others in this part of Britain, but surely without a probability of truth; for our brave countrymen found Cæfar sufficient employment of a far different sort, during his short stay in Britain, to give him any opportunity of erecting even this one fortress. Kilburne says, there was a tower here, called Cæsar's tower, afterwards the king's lodgings; but these, now called the king's keep, were built by king Henry II. as will be further mentioned hereafter; and he further says, there were to be seen here great pipes and casks bound with iron hoops, in which was liquor supposed to be wine, which by long lying had become as thick as treacle, and would cleave like birdlime; salt congealed together as hard as stone; cross and long bows and arrows, to which brass was fastened instead of feathers, and they were of such size, as not to be fit for the use of men of that or any late ages. These, Lambarde says, the inhabitants shewed as having belonged to Cæfar, and the wine and salt as part of the provision he had brought with him hither; and Camden relates, that he was shewn these arrows, which he thinks were such as the Romans used to shoot out of their engines, which were like to large crossbows. These last might, no doubt, though not Cæsar's, belong to the Romans of a later time; and the former might, perhaps, be part of the provisions and stores which king Henry VIII. laid in here, at a time when he passed from hence over sea to France. But for many years past it has not been known what is become of any of these things.
Others, averse to Cæsar's having built this castle, and yet willing to give the building of it to the empire of the Romans of a later time, suppose, and that perhaps with some probability, it was first erected by Arviragus, (or Arivog, as he is called on his coin) king of Britain, in the time of Claudius, the Roman emperor. (fn. 2)
That there was one built here, during the continuance of the Roman empire in Britain, must be supposed from the necessity of it, and the circumstances of those times; and the existence of one plainly appears, from the remains of the tower and other parts of the antient church within it, and the octagon tower at the west end, in which are quantities of Roman brick and tile. These towers are evidently the remains of Roman work, the former of much less antiquity than the latter, which may be well supposed to have been built as early as the emperor Claudius, whose expedition hither was about or immediately subsequent to the year of Christ 44. Of these towers, probably the latter was built for a speculum, or watch-tower, and was used, not only to watch the approach of enemies, but with another on the opposite hill, to point out the safe entrance into this port between them, by night as well as by day.
In this fortress, the Romans seem afterwards to have kept a garrison of veterans, as we learn from Pancirollus, who tells us that a company of soldiers under their chief, called Præpositus Militum Tungricanorum, was stationed within this fortess.
Out of the remains of part of the above-mentioned Roman buildings here, a Christian church was erected, as most historians write, by Lucius, king of Britain, about the year 161; but it is much to be doubted whether there ever was such a king in Britain; if there was, he was only a tributary chief to the Roman emperor, under whose peculiar government Britain was then accounted. This church was built, no doubt, for the use of that part of the garrison in particular, who were at that time believers of the gospel, and afterwards during the different changes of the Christian and Pagan religions in these parts, was made use of accordingly, till St. Augustine, soon after the year 597, at the request of king Ethelbert, reconsecrated it, and dedicated it anew, in honour of the blessed Virgin Mary.
¶His son and successor Eadbald, king of Kent, founded a college of secular canons and a provost in this church, whose habitations, undoubtedly near it, there are not the least traces of. These continued here till after the year 691; when Widred, king of Kent, having increated the fortifications, and finding the residence of the religious within them an incumbrance, removed them from hence into the town of Dover, to the antient church of St. Martin; in the description of which hereafter, a further account of them will be given.
DOVER does not seem to have been in much repute as a harbour, till some time after Cæsar's expedition hither; for the unfitness, as well as insecurity of the place, especially for a large fleet of shipping, added to the character which he had given of it, deterred the Romans from making a frequent use of it, so that from Boleyne, or Gessoriacum, their usual port in Gaul, they in general failed with their fleets to Richborough, or Portus Rutupinus, situated at the mouth of the Thames, in Britain, and thence back again; the latter being a most safe and commodious haven, with a large and extensive bay.
Notwithstanding which, Dover certainly was then made use of as a port for smaller vessels, and a nearer intercourse for passengers from the continent; and to render the entrance to it more safe, the Romans built two Specula, or watch-towers, here, on the two hills opposite to each other, to point out the approach to it, and one likewise on the opposite hill at Bologne, for the like purpose there; and it is mentioned as a port by Antoninus, in his Itinerary, in which, ITER III. is A Londinio ad Portum Dubris, i. e. from London to the port of Dover.
After the departure of the Romans from Britain, when the port of Bologne, as well as Richborough, fell into decay and disuse, and instead of the former a nearer port came into use, first at Whitsan, and when that was stopped up, a little higher at Calais, Dover quickly became the more usual and established port of passage between France and Britain, and it has continued so to the present time.
When the antient harbour of Dover was changed from its antient situation is not known; most probably by various occurrences of nature, the sea left it by degrees, till at last the farmer scite of it became entirely swallowed up by the beach. That the harbour was much further within land, even at the time of the conquest than it is at present, seems to be confirmed by Domesday, in which it is said, that at the entrance of it, there was a mill which damaged almost every ship that passed by it, on account of the great swell of the sea there. Where the scite of this mill was, is now totally unknown, though it is probable it was much within the land, and that by the still further accumulation of the beach, and other natural causes, this haven was in process of time so far filled up towards the inland part of it, as to change its situation still more to the south-west, towards the sea.
From the time of the Norman conquest this port continued the usual passage to the continent, and to confine the intercourse to this port only, there was a statute passed anno 4 Edward IV. that none should take shipping for Calais, but at Dover. (fn. 20) But in king Henry VII.'s time, which was almost the next reign, the harbour was become so swerved up, as to render it necessary for the king's immediate attention, to prevent its total ruin, and he expended great sums of money for its preservation. But it was found, that all that was done, would not answer the end proposed, without the building of a pier to seaward, which was determined on about the middle of Henry VIII.'s reign, and one was constructed, which was compiled of two rows of main posts, and great piles, which were let into holes hewn in the rock underneath, and some were shod with iron, and driven down into the main chalk, and fastened together with iron bands and bolts. The bottom being first filled up with great rocks of stone, and the remainder above with great chalk stones, beach, &c. During the whole of this work, the king greatly encouraged the undertaking, and came several times to view it; and in the whole is said to have expended near 63,000l. on it. But his absence afterwards abroad, his ill health, and at last his death, joined to the minority of his successor, king Edward VI. though some feeble efforts were made in his reign, towards the support of this pier, put a stop to, and in the end exposed this noble work to decay and ruin.
Queen Mary, indeed, attempted to carry it on again, but neither officers nor workmen being well paid, it came to nothing, so that in process of time the sea having brought up great quantities of beach again upon it, the harbour was choaked up, and the loss of Calais happening about the same time, threatened the entire destruction of it. Providentially the shelf of beach was of itself became a natural defence against the rage of the sea, insomuch, that if a passage could be made for ships to get safely within it, they might ride there securely.
To effect this, several projects were formed, and queen Elizabeth, to encourage it, gave to the town the free transportation of several thousand quarters of corn and tuns of beer; and in the 23d of her reign, an act passed for giving towards the repair of the harbour, a certain tonnage from every vessel above twenty tons burthen, passing by it, which amounted to 1000l. yearly income; and the lord Cobham, then lordwarden, and others, were appointed commissioners for this purpose; and in the end, after many different trials to effect it, a safe harbour was formed, with a pier, and different walls and sluices, at a great expence; during the time of which a universal diligence and public spirit appeared in every one concerned in this great and useful work. During the whole of the queen's reign, the improvement of this harbour continued without intermission, and several more acts passed for that purpose; but the future preservation of it was owing to the charter of incorporation of the governors of it, in the first year of king James I. by an act passed that year, by the name of the warden and assistants of the harbour of Dover, the warden being always the lord-warden of the cinque ports for the time being, and his assistants, his lieutenant, and the mayor of Dover, for the time being, and eight others, the warden and assistants only making a quorum; six to be present to make a session; at any of which, on a vacancy, the assistants to be elected; and the king granted to them his land or waste ground, or beach, commonly called the Pier, or Harbour ground, as it lay without Southgate, or Snargate, the rents of which are now of the yearly value of about three hundred pounds.
Under the direction of this corporation, the works and improvements of this harbour have been carried on, and acts of parliament have been passed in almost every reign since, to give the greater force to their proceedings.
From what has been said before, the reader will observe, that this harbour has always been a great national object, and that in the course of many ages, prodigious sums of money have been from time to time expended on it, and every endeavour used to keep it open, and render it commodious; but after all these repeated endeavours and expences, it still labours under such circumstances, as in a very great degree renders unsuccessful all that has ever been done for that purpose.
DOVER, as has been already mentioned, was of some estimation in the time of the Roman empire in Britain, on account of its haven, and afterwards for the castle, in which they kept a strong garrison of sol. diers, not only to guard the approach to it, but to keep the natives in subjection; and in proof of their residence here, the Rev. Mr. Lyon some years since discovered the remains of a Roman structure, which he apprehended to have been a bath, at the west end of the parish-church of St. Mary, in this town, which remains have since repeatedly been laid open when interments have taken place there.
This station of the Romans is mentioned by Antonine, in his Itinerary of the Roman roads in Britain, by the name of Dubris, as being situated from the station named Durovernum, or Canterbury, fourteen miles; which distance, compared with the miles as they are now numbered from Canterbury, shews the town, as well as the haven, for they were no doubt contiguous to each other, to have both been nearer within land than either of them are at present, the present distance from Canterbury being near sixteen miles as the road now goes, The sea, indeed, seems antiently to have occupied in great part the space where the present town of Dover, or at least the northwest part of it, now stands; but being shut out by the quantity of beach thrown up, and the harbour changed by that means to its present situation, left that place a dry ground, on which the town of Dover, the inhabitants following the traffic of the harbour, was afterwards built.
This town, called by the Saxons, Dofra, and Dofris; by later historians, Doveria; and in Domesday, Dovere; is agreed by all writers to have been privileged before the conquest; and by the survey of Domesday, appears to have been of ability in the time of king Edward the Confessor, to arm yearly twenty vessels for sea service. In consideration of which, that king granted to the inhabitants, not only to be free from the payment of thol and other privileges throughout the realm, but pardoned them all manner of suit and service to any of his courts whatsoever; and in those days, the town seems to have been under the protection and government of Godwin, earl of Kent, and governor of this castle.
Soon after the conquest, this town was so wasted by fire, that almost all the houses were reduced to ashes, as appears by the survey of Domesday, at the beginning of which is the following entry of it:
DOVERE, in the time of king Edward, paid eighteen pounds, of which money, king E had two parts, and earl Goduin the third. On the other hand, the canons of St. Martin had another moiety. The burgesses gave twenty ships to the king once in the year, for fifteen days; and in each ship were twenty and one men. This they did on the account that he had pardoned them sac and soc. When the messengers of the king came there, they gave for the passage of a horse three pence in winter, and two in summer. But the burgesses found a steerman, and one other assistant, and if there should be more necessary, they were provided at his cost. From the festival of St. Michael to the feast of St. Andrew, the king's peace was in the town. Sigerius had broke it, on which the king's bailiff had received the usual fine. Whoever resided constantly in the town paid custom to the king; he was free from thol throughout England. All these customs were there when king William came into England. On his first arrival in England, the town itself was burnt, and therefore its value could not be computed how much it was worth, when the bishop of Baieux received it. Now it is rated at forty pounds, and yet the bailiff pays from thence fifty-four pounds to the king; of which twenty-four pounds in money, which were twenty in an one, but thirty pounds to the earl by tale.
In Dovere there are twenty-nine plats of ground, of which the king had lost the custom. Of these Robert de Romenel has two. Ralph de Curbespine three. William, son of Tedald, one. William, son of Oger, one. William, son of Tedold, and Robert niger, six. William, son of Goisfrid, three, in which the guildhall of the burgesses was. Hugo de Montfort one house. Durand one. Rannulf de Colubels one. Wadard six. The son of Modbert one. And all these vouch the bishop of Baieux as the protector and giver of these houses. Of that plat of ground, which Rannulf de Colubels holds, which was a certain outlaw, they agree that the half of the land was the king's, and Rannulf himself has both parts. Humphry the lame man holds one plat of ground, of which half the forfeiture is the king's. Roger de Ostrabam made a certain house over the king's water, and held to this time the custom of the king; nor was a house there in the time of king Edward. In the entrance of the port of Dovere, there is one mill, which damages almost every ship, by the great swell of the sea, and does great damage to the king and his tenants; and it was not there in the time of king Edward. Concerning this, the grandson of Herbert says, that the bishop of Baieux granted it to his uncle Herbert, the son of Ivo.
And a little further, in the same record, under the bishop's possessions likewise:
In Estrei hundred, Wibertus holds half a yoke, which lies in the gild of Dover, and now is taxed with the land of Osbert, the son of Letard, and is worth per annum four shillings.
From the Norman conquest, the cities and towns of this realm appear to have been vested either in the crown, or else in the clergy or great men of the laity, and they were each, as such, immediately lords of the same. Thus, when the bishop of Baieux, to whom the king had, as may be seen by the above survey, granted this town, was disgraced. It returned into the king's hands by forfeiture, and king Richard I. afterwards granted it in ferme to Robt. Fitz-bernard. (fn. 21)
After the time of the taking of the survey of Domesday, the harbour of Dover still changing its situation more to the south-westward, the town seems to have altered its situation too, and to have been chiefly rebuilt along the sides of the new harbour, and as an encouragement to it, at the instance, and through favour especially to the prior of Dover, king Edward I. in corporated this town, the first that was so of any of the cinque ports, by the name of the mayor and commonalty. The mayor to be chosen out of the latter, from which body he was afterwards to chuse the assistants for his year, who were to be sworn for that purpose. At which time, the king had a mint for the coinage of money here; and by patent, anno 27 of that reign, the table of the exchequer of money was appointed to be held here, and at Yarmouth. (fn. 22) But the good effects of these marks of the royal favour were soon afterwards much lessened, by a dreadful disaster; for the French landed here in the night, in the 23d year of that reign, and burnt the greatest part of the town, and several of the religious houses, in it, and this was esteemed the more treacherousk, as it was done whilst the two cardinals were here, treating for a peace between England and France; which misfortune, however, does not seem to have totally impoverished it, for in the 17th year of the next reign of king Edward II it appears in some measure to have recovered its former state, and to have been rebuilt, as appears by the patent rolls of that year, in which the town of Dover is said to have then had in it twenty-one wards, each of which was charged with one ship for the king's use; in consideration of which, each ward had the privilege of a licensed packetboat, called a passenger, from Dover across the sea to Whitsan, in France, the usual port at that time of embarking from thence.
The state of this place in the reign of Henry VIII. is given by Leland, in his Itinerary, as follows:
"Dovar ys xii myles fro Canterbury and viii fro Sandwich. Ther hath bene a haven yn tyme past and yn taken ther of the ground that lyith up betwyxt the hilles is yet in digging found wosye. Ther hath bene found also peeces of cabelles and anchores and Itinerarium Antonini cawlyth hyt by the name of a haven. The towne on the front toward the se hath bene right strongly walled and embateled and almost al the residew; but now yt is parly fawlen downe and broken downe. The residew of the towne as far as I can perceyve was never waulled. The towne is devided into vi paroches. Wherof iii be under one rose at S. Martines yn the hart of the town. The other iii stand that yt hath be walled abowt but not dyked. The other iii stand abrode, of the which one is cawled S. James of Rudby or more likely Rodeby a statione navium. But this word ys not sufficient to prove that Dovar showld be that place, the which the Romaynes cawlled Portus Rutupi or Rutupinum. For I cannot yet se the contrary but Retesboro otherwise cawlled Richeboro by Sandwich, both ways corruptly, must neades be Rutupinum. The mayne strong and famose castel of Dovar stondeth on the loppe of a hille almost a quarter of a myle of fro the towne on the lyst side and withyn the castel ys a chapel, yn the sides wherof appere sum greate Briton brykes. In the town was a great priory of blacke monkes late suppressed. There is also an hospitalle cawlled the Meason dew. On the toppe of the hye clive betwene the towne and the peere remayneth yet abowt a slyte shot up ynto the land fro the very brymme of the se clysse as ruine of a towr, the which has bene as a pharos or a mark to shyppes on the se and therby was a place of templarys. As concerning the river of Dovar it hath no long cowrse from no spring or hedde notable that descendith to that botom. The principal hed, as they say is at a place cawled Ewelle and that is not past a iii or iiii myles fro Dovar. Ther be springes of frech waters also at a place cawled Rivers. Ther is also a great spring at a place cawled …… and that once in a vi or vii yeres brasted owt so abundantly that a great part of the water cummeth into Dovar streme, but als yt renneth yn to the se betwyxt Dovar and Folchestan, but nerer to Folchestan that is to say withyn a ii myles of yt. Surely the hedde standeth so that it might with no no great cost be brought to run alway into Dovar streame." (fn. 23)
Cougate Crosse-gate Bocheruy-gate stoode with toures toward the se. There is beside Beting-gate and Westegate.
Howbeyt MTuine tol me a late that yt hath be walled abowt but not dyked.
This was the state of Dover just before the time of the dissolution of religious houses, in Henry VIII.'s reign, when the abolition of private masses, obits, and such like services in churches, occasioned by the reformation, annillilated the greatest part of the income of the priests belonging to them, in this as well as in other towns, in consequence of which most of them were deserted, and falling to ruin, the parishes belonging to them were united to one or two of the principal ones of them. Thus, in this town, of the several churches in it, two only remained in use for divine service, viz. St. Mary's and St. James's, to which the parishes of the others were united.
After this, the haven continuting to decay more than ever, notwithstanding the national assistance afforded to it, the town itself seemed hastening to impoverishment. What the state of it was in the 8th year of queen Elizabeth, may be seen, by the certificate returned by the queen's order of the maritime places, in her 8th year, by which it appears that there were then in Dover, houses inhabited three hundred and fifty-eight; void, or lack of inhabiters, nineteen; a mayor, customer, comptroller of authorities, not joint but several; ships and crayers twenty, from four tons to one hundred and twenty.
¶This probable ruin of the town, however, most likely induced the queen, in her 20th year, to grant it a new charter of incorporation, in which the manner of chusing mayor, jurats, and commoners, and of making freemen, was new-modelled, and several surther liberties and privileges granted, and those of the charter of king Edward I. confirmed likewise by inspeximus. After which, king Charles II. in his 36th year, anno 1684, granted to it a new charter, which, however, was never inrolled in chancery, and in consequence of a writ of quo warranto was that same year surrendered, and another again granted next year; but this last, as well as another charter granted by king James II. and forced on the corporation, being made wholly subservient to the king's own purposes, were annulled by proclamation, made anno 1688, being the fourth and last year of his reign: but none of the above charters being at this time extant, (the charters of this corporation, as well as those of the other cinque ports, being in 1685, by the king's command, surrendered up to Col. Strode, then governor of Dover castle, and never returned again, nor is it known what became of them,) Dover is now held to be a corporation by prescription, by the stile of the mayor, jurats, and commonalty of the town and port of Dover. It consists at present of a mayor, twelve jurats, and thirty-six commoners, or freemen, together with a chamberlain, recorder, and town-clerk. The mayor, who is coroner by virtue of his office, is chosen on Sept. 8, yearly, in St. Mary's church, and together with the jurats, who are justices within this liberty, exclusive of all others, hold a court of general sessions of the peace and gaol delivery, together with a court of record, and it has other privileges, mostly the same as the other corporations, within the liberties of the cinque ports. It has the privilege of a mace. The election of mayor was antiently in the church of St. Peter, whence in 1581 it was removed to that of St. Mary, where it has been, as well as the elections of barons to serve in parliament, held ever since. These elections here, as well as elsewhere in churches, set apart for the worship of God, are certainly a scandal to decency and religion, and are the more inexcusable here, as there is a spacious court-hall, much more fit for the purposes. After this, there was another byelaw made, in June, 1706, for removing these elections into the court-hall; but why it was not put in execution does not appear, unless custom prevented it—for if a decree was of force to move them from one church to another, another decree was of equal force to remove them from the church to the courthall. Within these few years indeed, a motion was made in the house of commons, by the late alderman Sawbridge, a gentlemand not much addicted to speak in favour of the established church, to remove all such elections, through decency, from churches to other places not consecrated to divine worship; but though allowed to be highly proper, yet party resentment against the mover of it prevailed, and the motion was negatived by a great majority.
The mayor is chosen by the resident freemen. The jurats are nominated from the common-councilmen by the jurats, and appointed by the mayor, jurats, and common-councilmen, by ballot.
THE CHURCH OF ST. Mary stands at some distance from the entrance into this town from Canterbury, near the market-place. It is said to have been built by the prior and convent of St. Martin, (fn. 47) in the year 1216; but from what authority, I know not.—Certain it is, that it was in king John's reign, in the gift of the king, and was afterwards given by him to John de Burgh; but in the 8th year of Richard II.'s reign, anno 1384, it was become appropriated to the abbot of Pontiniac. After which, by what means, I cannot discover, this appropriation, as well as the advowson of the church, came into the possession of the master and brethren of the hospital of the Maison Dieu, who took care that the church should be daily served by a priest, who should officiate in it for the benefit of the parish. In which state it continued till the suppression of the hospital, in the 36th year of king Henry VIII.'s reign, when it came into the hands of the crown, at which time the parsonage was returned by John Thompson, master of the hospital, to be worth six pounds per annum.
Two years after which, the king being at Dover, at the humble entreaty of the inhabitants of this parish, gave to them, as it is said, this church, with the cemetery adjoining to it, to be used by them as a parochial church; at the same time he gave the pews of St. Martin's church for the use of it; and on the king's departure, in token of possession, they sealed up the church doors; since which, the patronage of it, which is now esteemed as a perpetual curacy, the minister of it being licensed by the archbishop, has been vested in the inhabitants of this parish. Every parishioner, paying scot and lot, having a vote in the chusing of the minister, whose maintenance had been from time to time, at their voluntary option, more or less. It is now fixed at eighty pounds per annum. Besides which he has the possession of a good house, where he resides, which was purchased by the inhabitants in 1754, for the perpetual use of the minister of it. It is exempt from the jurisdiction of the archdeacon. (fn. 48)
There is a piece of ground belonging, as it is said, to the glebe of this church, rented annually at ten pounds, which is done by vestry, without the minister being at all concerned in it. In 1588 here were eight hundred and twenty-one communicants. This parish contains more than five parts out of six of the whole town, and a greater proportion of the inhabitants.
The church of St. Mary is a large handsome building of three isles, having a high and south chancel, all covered with lead, and built of flints, with ashler windows and door cases, which are arched and ornamented. At the west end is the steeple, which is a spire covered with lead, in which are eight bells, a clock, and chimes. The pillars in the church are large and clumsy; the arches low and semicircular in the body, but eliptical in the chancel; but there is no separation between the body and chancel, and the pews are continued on to the east end of the church. In the high chancel, at the eastern extremity of it, beyond the altar, are the seats for the mayor and jurats; and here the mayor is now chosen, and the barons in parliament for this town and port constantly elected.
In 1683, there was a faculty granted to the churchwardens, to remove the magistrates seats from the east end of the church to the north side, or any other more convenient part of it, and for the more decent and commodious placing the communion table: in consequence of which, these seats were removed, and so placed, but they continued there no longer than 1689, when, by several orders of vestry, they were removed back again to where they remain at present.
The mayor was antiently chosen in St. Peter's church; but by a bye-law of the corporation, it was removed to this church in 1583, where it has ever since been held. In 1706, another bye law was made, to remove, for the sake of decency, all elections from this church to the court-hall, but it never took place. More of which has been mentioned before.
From the largeness, as well as the populousness of this parish, the church is far from being sufficient to contain the inhabitants who resort to it for public worship, notwithstanding there are four galleries in it, and it is otherwise well pewed. This church was paved in 1642, but it was not ceiled till 1706. In 1742, there was an organ erected in it. The two branches in it were given, one by subscription in 1738, and the other by the pilots in 1742.
Thomas Toke, of Dover, buried in the chapel of St. Katharine, in this church, by his will in 1484, gave seven acres of land at Dugate, under Windlass-down, to the wardens of this church, towards the repairs of it for ever.
¶The monuments and memorials in this church and church yard, are by far too numerous to mention here. Among them are the following: A small monument in the church for the celebrated Charles Churchill, who was buried in the old church-yard of St. Martin in this town, as has been noticed before; and a small stone, with a memorial for Samuel Foote, esq. the celebrated comedian, who died at the Ship inn, and had a grave dug for him in this church, but was afterwards carried to London, and buried there. A monument and several memorials for the family of Eaton; arms, Or, a sret, azure. A small tablet for John Ker, laird of Frogden, in Twit dale, in Scotland, who died suddenly at Dover, in his way to France, in 1730. Two monuments for Farbrace, arms, Azure, a bend, or, between two roses, argent, seeded, or, bearded vert. A monument in the middle isle, to the memory of the Minet family. In the north isle are several memorials for the Gunmans, of Dover; arms,. … a spread eagle, argent, gorged with a ducal coronet, or. There are others, to the memory of Broadley, Rouse, and others, of good account in this town.
Epic 45SURF Gear for your Epic Hero's Odyssey!
New book! Epic Landscape Photography: The Principles of Fine Art Nature Photography!
www.amazon.com/Epic-Landscape-Photography-Principles-Comp...
www.facebook.com/epiclandscapephotography/
The Epic Seascape! Malibu Sea Caves!
Landscape photography is not only about traveling through space, but it is also about traveling through time. One may return to the same beach time and again throughout the seasons to find a million different universes, changing in an infinitude of manners with each passing wave.
Not only do we voyage outwardly to get the shot, but we travel even further inwardly. While I spend my year trekking along the John Muir Trail, and on through Zion, Yosemite, the Grand Canyon, Death Valley, and the Colorado Plateau, my heart always finds its home in these Malibu sea caves, where I have stood in awe during all hours of the day and night.
Included within are a few shots that only I have so far captured, including a miraculous winter solstice sunrise.
Best wishes throughout the coming year!
Join my new 45EPIC fine art landscapes page on facebook!
facebook.com/mcgucken
Working on a couple photography books! 45EPIC GODDESS PHOTOGRAPHY: A classic guide to exalting the archetypal woman. And 45EPIC Fine Art Landscape Photography!
More on my golden ratio musings: facebook.com/goldennumberratio
instagram.com/goldennumberratio
Greetings all! I have been busy finishing a few books on photography, while traveling all over--to Zion and the Sierras--shooting fall colors. Please see some here: facebook.com/mcgucken
Let me know in the comments if you would like a free review copy of one of my photography books! :)
Titles include:
The Tao of Epic Landscape Photography: Exalt Fine Art with the Yin-Yang Wisdom of Lao Tzu's Tao Te Ching!
The Golden Number Ratio Principle: Why the Fibonacci Numbers Exalt Beauty and How to Create PHI Compositions in Art, Design, & Photography
facebook.com/goldennumberratio
And I am also working on a book on photographing the goddesses! :) More goddesses soon!
Best wishes on your epic hero's odyssey!:)
I love voyaging forth into nature to contemplate poetry, physics, the golden ratio, and the Tao te Ching! What's your favorite epic poetry reflecting epic landscapes? I recently finished a book titled Epic Poetry for Epic Landscape Photographers:
www.facebook.com/Epic-Poetry-for-Epic-Landscape-Photograp...
Did you know that John Muir, Thoreau, and Emerson all loved epic poetry and poets including Shakespeare, Milton, Homer, and Robert Burns?
I recently finished my fourth book on Light Time Dimension Theory, much of which was inspired by an autumn trip to Zion!
www.facebook.com/lightimedimensiontheory/
Via its simple principle of a fourth expanding dimension, LTD Theory provides a unifying, foundational *physical* model underlying relativity, quantum mechanics, time and all its arrows and asymmetries, and the second law of thermodynamics. The detailed diagrams demonstrate that the great mysteries of quantum mechanical nonlocality, entanglement, and probability naturally arise from the very same principle that fosters relativity alongside light's constant velocity, the equivalence of mass and energy, and time dilation.
Follow me on instagram!
Join my new 45EPIC fine art landscapes page on facebook!
New book! Epic Landscape Photography: The Principles of Fine Art Nature Photography!
www.facebook.com/epiclandscapephotography/
Join my new 45EPIC fine art landscapes page on facebook!
facebook.com/mcgucken
Working on a couple photography books! 45EPIC GODDESS PHOTOGRAPHY: A classic guide to exalting the archetypal woman. And 45EPIC Fine Art Landscape Photography!
More on my golden ratio musings: facebook.com/goldennumberratio
instagram.com/goldennumberratio
Greetings all! I have been busy finishing a few books on photography, while traveling all over--to Zion and the Sierras--shooting fall colors. Please see some here: facebook.com/mcgucken
Let me know in the comments if you would like a free review copy of one of my photography books! :)
Titles include:
The Tao of Epic Landscape Photography: Exalt Fine Art with the Yin-Yang Wisdom of Lao Tzu's Tao Te Ching!
The Golden Number Ratio Principle: Why the Fibonacci Numbers Exalt Beauty and How to Create PHI Compositions in Art, Design, & Photography
facebook.com/goldennumberratio
And I am also working on a book on photographing the goddesses! :) More goddesses soon!
Best wishes on your epic hero's odyssey!:)
I love voyaging forth into nature to contemplate poetry, physics, the golden ratio, and the Tao te Ching! What's your favorite epic poetry reflecting epic landscapes? I recently finished a book titled Epic Poetry for Epic Landscape Photographers:
www.facebook.com/Epic-Poetry-for-Epic-Landscape-Photograp...
Did you know that John Muir, Thoreau, and Emerson all loved epic poetry and poets including Shakespeare, Milton, Homer, and Robert Burns?
I recently finished my fourth book on Light Time Dimension Theory, much of which was inspired by an autumn trip to Zion!
www.facebook.com/lightimedimensiontheory/
Via its simple principle of a fourth expanding dimension, LTD Theory provides a unifying, foundational *physical* model underlying relativity, quantum mechanics, time and all its arrows and asymmetries, and the second law of thermodynamics. The detailed diagrams demonstrate that the great mysteries of quantum mechanical nonlocality, entanglement, and probability naturally arise from the very same principle that fosters relativity alongside light's constant velocity, the equivalence of mass and energy, and time dilation.
Follow me on instagram!
Join my new 45EPIC fine art landscapes page on facebook!
Malibu Fine Art Epic Sunset Seascape! 45Epic Dr. Elliot McGucken Fine Landscape and Nature Photography!
Join my new 45EPIC fine art landscapes page on facebook!
facebook.com/mcgucken
Working on a couple photography books! 45EPIC GODDESS PHOTOGRAPHY: A classic guide to exalting the archetypal woman. And 45EPIC Fine Art Landscape Photography!
Fresh snow! More on my golden ratio musings: facebook.com/goldennumberratio
instagram.com/goldennumberratio
Greetings all! I have been busy finishing a few books on photography, while traveling all over--to Zion and the Sierras--shooting fall colors. Please see some here: facebook.com/mcgucken
Let me know in the comments if you would like a free review copy of one of my photography books! :)
Titles include:
The Tao of Epic Landscape Photography: Exalt Fine Art with the Yin-Yang Wisdom of Lao Tzu's Tao Te Ching!
The Golden Number Ratio Principle: Why the Fibonacci Numbers Exalt Beauty and How to Create PHI Compositions in Art, Design, & Photography
facebook.com/goldennumberratio
And I am also working on a book on photographing the goddesses! :) More goddesses soon!
Best wishes on your epic hero's odyssey!:)
I love voyaging forth into nature to contemplate poetry, physics, the golden ratio, and the Tao te Ching! What's your favorite epic poetry reflecting epic landscapes? I recently finished a book titled Epic Poetry for Epic Landscape Photographers:
www.facebook.com/Epic-Poetry-for-Epic-Landscape-Photograp...
Did you know that John Muir, Thoreau, and Emerson all loved epic poetry and poets including Shakespeare, Milton, Homer, and Robert Burns?
I recently finished my fourth book on Light Time Dimension Theory, much of which was inspired by an autumn trip to Zion!
www.facebook.com/lightimedimensiontheory/
Via its simple principle of a fourth expanding dimension, LTD Theory provides a unifying, foundational *physical* model underlying relativity, quantum mechanics, time and all its arrows and asymmetries, and the second law of thermodynamics. The detailed diagrams demonstrate that the great mysteries of quantum mechanical nonlocality, entanglement, and probability naturally arise from the very same principle that fosters relativity alongside light's constant velocity, the equivalence of mass and energy, and time dilation.
Follow me on instagram!
Join my new 45EPIC fine art landscapes page on facebook!
We left at 9:00 AM from South Dakota east of Wyoming. The most unstable areas were there and the probability of a tornado was at 5%, which is an average / good number. It was 4 hours of road later and a purple mass was already on our radar. We stopped at the entrance of a farm to observe the storm's behavior and decide how to approach it.
The conditions were good. Winds from the southeast brought moisture against the highland on the shores of the Rocky Mountains. At 5,300 feet at 61 Dew Point, the storm's base was very low and the Sheer kept the supercell rotating constant. On the radar was also seen a hook in the southern part of the cloud mass, indicative of faster rotation. That's where we had to go. We went back along the same dirt road about 7 Kms to the top of a hill. We stopped and all descended. It was our cabin. Something like watching the ACDC show in the front row. Cameras, camcorders, tripods, gopros, strong wind, sweating hands and adrenaline. It was going to roll, it was clear.
The rotation was increasing, formed the funnel cloud that touched the ground at 4:25 pm remained 20 seconds and fell apart.
The clouds twisted further, and he reappeared twice as large as he touched the ground a few feet behind the small house in the picture. A monster that changed shape for five minutes until it crumbled like a giant S-shaped snake. I don't know if words can describe such an experience. Chugwater WY - 07/04/2019 ”
Mental calculations are easy for Beibei. Percentage of kibbles remaining for the day, time left before Papa returns home after work, number of meows before getting attention, etc. Unemployment rates, economic crisis, financial tsunami, recession, foreclosures?! BAH! And not forgetting the probabilities of going hungry or getting no hugs are zero. Those are the crucial numbers.
-
If I am not shooting a Half Frame Camera, there is an overwhelming probability that I am shooting a Pentax instead. I have been shooting with Pentax 35mm SLRs for a long time and there are numerous reasons why they are my favorite 35mm SLRs. In fact, I’ve been working on a project espousing my l...
-
Read on at: emulsive.org/reviews/gear-reviews/lens-reviews/lens-revie...
-
Filed under: #Articles, #GearReviews, #LensReviews, #Reviews, #DanMarinelli, #Pentax, #SMCPentax55MmF18, #SMCPentaxA50MmF2, #SMCPentaxM40MmF28Pancake, #SMCPentaxM50MmF14, #SMCPentaxM50MmF17
#shootfilmbenice #filmphotography # believeinfilm
New book! Epic Landscape Photography: The Principles of Fine Art Nature Photography!
www.facebook.com/epiclandscapephotography/
Join my new 45EPIC fine art landscapes page on facebook!
facebook.com/mcgucken
Working on a couple photography books! 45EPIC GODDESS PHOTOGRAPHY: A classic guide to exalting the archetypal woman. And 45EPIC Fine Art Landscape Photography!
More on my golden ratio musings: facebook.com/goldennumberratio
instagram.com/goldennumberratio
Greetings all! I have been busy finishing a few books on photography, while traveling all over--to Zion and the Sierras--shooting fall colors. Please see some here: facebook.com/mcgucken
Let me know in the comments if you would like a free review copy of one of my photography books! :)
Titles include:
The Tao of Epic Landscape Photography: Exalt Fine Art with the Yin-Yang Wisdom of Lao Tzu's Tao Te Ching!
The Golden Number Ratio Principle: Why the Fibonacci Numbers Exalt Beauty and How to Create PHI Compositions in Art, Design, & Photography
facebook.com/goldennumberratio
And I am also working on a book on photographing the goddesses! :) More goddesses soon!
Best wishes on your epic hero's odyssey!:)
I love voyaging forth into nature to contemplate poetry, physics, the golden ratio, and the Tao te Ching! What's your favorite epic poetry reflecting epic landscapes? I recently finished a book titled Epic Poetry for Epic Landscape Photographers:
www.facebook.com/Epic-Poetry-for-Epic-Landscape-Photograp...
Did you know that John Muir, Thoreau, and Emerson all loved epic poetry and poets including Shakespeare, Milton, Homer, and Robert Burns?
I recently finished my fourth book on Light Time Dimension Theory, much of which was inspired by an autumn trip to Zion!
www.facebook.com/lightimedimensiontheory/
Via its simple principle of a fourth expanding dimension, LTD Theory provides a unifying, foundational *physical* model underlying relativity, quantum mechanics, time and all its arrows and asymmetries, and the second law of thermodynamics. The detailed diagrams demonstrate that the great mysteries of quantum mechanical nonlocality, entanglement, and probability naturally arise from the very same principle that fosters relativity alongside light's constant velocity, the equivalence of mass and energy, and time dilation.
Follow me on instagram!
Join my new 45EPIC fine art landscapes page on facebook!
I like Ike as in Eisenhower, but not as in Hurricane Ike which is a Cat. 4 and I'm in the cone of probability. I'd rather be in the cone of silence or rather be eating an ice cream cone.
But in any event, this photo is brought to you courtesy of TS Hannah which made our beaches very windy. Taken on Crandon Park Beach last Sunday, the tide had literally engulfed the entire beach with tidal pools even so far as to engulf the life guard stands.
Let's hope these friggin storms fizzle before they hurt anyone or anyone's property.
Enjoy the wind blown palms which were taken in infrared.
24 hours to Happy Hour.
Mooseburgers & Beer anyone?
Explore 9/4/08 # 321 -- Thanks everyone!
Chains to Champions is finally here!
Chains to Champions combines mathematical probability with human ingenuity to create a strategy game that is unique each time you play.
Players: 2-6
Ages: 14+
Playing Time: 40 Minutes
Contains:
1 Gameboard (The Arena)
22 BrickWarriors Accessories
6 Training Dummies
36 Value 1 Coins
18 Value 3 Coins
1 Score Pad
96 Cards
6 Dice
A bridge over the Afon Tai-Hirion, spanning 5 m and 2.9 m wide. Low stone slabs line the two edges of the bridge. It has a single arch of 3 m, and a single arch-ring, the keystones of which are visible across the top of the bridge.
The monument is of national importance for its potential to enhance our knowledge of post medieval transport. It retains significant archaeological potential, with a strong probability of the presence of associated archaeological features and deposits. The structure itself may be expected to contain archaeological information concerning chronology and building techniques.
The scheduled area comprises the remains described and areas around them within which related evidence may be expected to survive.
Source: Cadw
Half plate American ambrotype
photographer unknown, late 1850s-early 1860s
Theodor E. Ulieriu-Rostás collection. Accession number: amb.2010.09.
Ambrotype of an American couple, coming from an estate in Norfolk, Virginia (Park Place or West Ghent) - thus, there is a great probability that the two were Virginians.
A portrait of a rather dissonant couple, which exhibits some poignant details. The man is well habituated to his middle class clothes, but his hair seems more likely unarranged than programatically romantic, and his gaze has nothing comforting in it. The woman seems to be pregnant, considering that late 1850s crinolines didn`t have the kind of front protuberance seen here, as well as the unusual position of her hands. However, no wedding ring - a highlighted item in many early photographs - is visible here. The woman wears a fingerless lace glove of the type that came into fashion in the second half of the 1850s - but only one glove. This is definitely not the usual engagement/marriage portrait, but still an important occasion for a grand 1/2 plate photograph... They might be brother and sister, but that doesn`t fill all the symbolic holes in the picture. I`ve seen enough early portraits to judge prudently the apparent distress on the photographed ones` faces, but this portrait leaves a question unanswered.
Some conservation info: the ambrotype was broken at some point of its history in 11 fragments, which have been glued on a glass, resulting a rather heavy assembly of 3 glass plates which barely fit in the brass preserver. Some of the fragments had began to move, without much damage though. On the long term, the glue might degrade the plate, but it would`ve been more dangerous to try to disassemble the glued glass, so I`ve decided only to clean the upper glass sheet and to seal all the three very tightly with archival paper tape, like a daguerreotype, in order to prevent the friction between the moving fragments.
***
View this ambrotype on Ipernity.
This mysterious collection of images have been discovered within the photographic collections of Tyne & Wear Archives & Museums.
Reference: TWCMS -H13098-73-15
The lantern slides are from a series titled 'Psychic Photography From A New Angle' and feature eerie images of the supposedly paranormal and unknown forces caught on camera.
Very little is known of the origins of this collection. The slides were designed to accompany a lecture by a Mr C.P. MacCarthy of 15 Wilkinson Street, Sheffield.
Mr MacCarthy produced the images under test conditions in 1934 in front of an invited committee at 76 Clarkehouse Road, Sheffield. He states the intention was to ‘demonstrate under test conditions Fake Psychic Photography’ to this committee.
Mr MacCarthy states his three reasons for this demonstration.
1.To prove the possibility of Fake under test conditions.
2.To show you cannot be too critical of such phenomena.
3.To indicate the increasing scope for fraud with the probability of genuine spirit photography.
Mr MacCarthy further guarantees ‘in the sum of five pounds, payable to any charitable institution, that no collusion exists, or has existed between myself and any other party in connection with this demonstration.’
Little is currently known of the Psychic demonstration. Who sat on the invited committee? Who was Mr MacCarthy? Why was he investigating Psychic Photography?
Can you help us with this information?
(Copyright) We're happy for you to share these digital images within the spirit of The Commons. Please cite 'Tyne & Wear Archives & Museums' when reusing. Certain restrictions on high quality reproductions and commercial use of the original physical version apply though; if you're unsure please email archives@twmuseums.org.uk
“The detectors don’t induce the phenomenon of wave function collapse; conscious observation does. Consciousness is like this giant roving spotlight, collapsing reality wherever it shines—and what isn’t observed remains probability. And it’s not just photons or electrons. It is everything. All matter…A testable, repeatable fault in reality.”
Ted Kosmatka - The Flicker Men
Photography by Cajsa Lilliehook
Store info at Blogging Second Life
****SHOPPING LIST******
Clothing: Baiastice_Riebe Jacket-Taupe-size M @ Collabor88
Baiastice_Samy Mini Dress-Taupe-Slink Physique @ Famished
Shoes: Glamistry : ECHIUM Heels - slink
Skin: Glam Affair America - Mavi
Hair: TRUTH HAIR Acadia
Poses: adorkable
Appliers: Glam Affair ( Lelutka Heads ) Mavi Applier [ America ]
Flair - Fingernails Applier Slink A/E - Set 54
Eyes: [PXL] REFLEX Eyes (B) ~ GreyGold
Mesh Attachments: LeLutka.Mesh Head-STELLA v1.3
Slink Avatar Enhancement Feet High Left V2.1
Slink Avatar Enhancement Hands V2.1 - R - Elegant1
Slink Physique Mesh Body V2.9 (ADD ME)
HUDS: Slink Ankle Lock
Statue portrait in form of Omphale. In all probability, this sculpture served as a funerary statue in a mausoleum. The deceased woman wished to be remembered as having been as beautiful as Venus and as strong as Heracles, and had herself portrayed thus in her apotheosis, in her life after death.
The female figure wears only a lion skin, which hangs down her back, its forepaws knotted across her breast, and the upper part of the lion's skull covering her head. She holds a club with her left hand (certainly accurately restored). Both attributes, the lion skin and the club, belong to Heracles. On Zeus' orders, Heracles was forced to serve the Lydian queen Omphale, who had him dress in women's clothing and spin wool while she assumed his lion skin and cudgel. By fusing portrait and symbol, the sculptor transformed the immediacy of the individual into a supra-personal realm. The statue reflects, as well, the conflict in Roman art between the adoption of Classic models and the desire for the heightened significance of realistic portraiture. The Roman sculptor utilized the form of the Greeks, but, at the same time, he gave the Omphale a more specific identity, an added dimension that he required
This type of female figure is reminiscent of the Aphrodite of Knidos by Praxiteles, from the 4th century B.C., a work frequently mentioned and highly praised in ancient literature. The head, however, is recognizably a portrait, with its individual hairstyle and features. The coiffure, drilled eyes, and modeling of the cheeks suggest that the Omphale dates to sometime near the close of the second century AD — stylistically, not much later than the Bust of Commodus, in the Palazzo dei Conservatori, which also bears the attributes of Heracles.
Source: “The Vatican Collections: The Papacy and Art”, Exhibition Catalogue, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.
Marble statue portrait
Height 182cm
Approx. 200 AD.
Vatican City State, Vatican Museums, Museo Gregoriano Profano
Queens Of The Stone Age ♫ (No One Knows)
Attention, automatic creative translation!
If someone more experienced than me should pass by here (the probability is very high in the second case, that someone will stop here and read it is not as likely :), I kindly ask for an opinion.
Some time ago, at the flea market I found a 60-meter Z winding machine, loaded. Having no idea what film it was, how long and in what conditions it was there, if someone had opened the reel and exposed the film to light, then:
-I tried to expose and develop a hypothetically black and white roll with a sensitivity of 100 ISO (but often doubling the exposure in case the film was very old and had lost sensitivity)
- I developed in HC110, dilution 1:63, 8min and: 30 sec at 27 °. In order not to waste money, a combination with expired chemicals seemed ideal to me, the main objective was to see if the film had not been exposed to light and in that case, find out what film it was, reading the writings printed by the manufacturer.
The little mystery, however, remained partially unsolved for me: as you can see in the photo above, I only found the wording "gevaert belgium safety film". Yes, ok, gevaert, but which film? :))
I am a great ignoramus on the subject, probably someone will know more just by looking at the negative film aspect.
------------------------------
Se dovesse passare da queste parti qualcuno più esperto di me (la probabilità è altissima nel secondo caso, che qualcuno si fermi qui e legga non è altrettanto probabile:), chiedo gentilmente un'opinione.
Tempo fa, al mercatino delle pulci ho trovato una bobinatrice Z da 60 metri, carica. Non avendo nessuna idea di che film si trattasse, da quanto tempo e in quali condizioni era lì, se qualcuno avesse aperto la bobinatrice e esposto la pellicola alla luce, quindi:
-Ho provato a esporre e sviluppare un rullo ipoteticamente bianco e nero e con una sensibilità di 100 iso (ma raddoppiando spesso l'esposizione nel caso la pellicola fosse molto vecchia e avesse perso sensibilità)
- Ho sviluppato in HC110, diluizione 1:63, 8min e:30 sec a 27°. Per non sprecare soldi un abbinamento con chimici scaduti mi è sembrato l'ideale, l'obiettivo principale era vedere se il film non era stato esposto alla luce e in quel caso, scoprire di che film si trattasse, leggendo le scritte stampate dal fabbricante.
Il piccolo mistero è rimasto però parzialmente insoluto per me: come vedete nella foto sopra, ho trovato solo la scritta "gevaert belgium safety film". Sì, ok, gevaert, ma quale pellicola? :))
Io son un grande ignorante in materia, probabilmente qualcuno saprà di più anche solo guardando l'aspetto della pellicola negativa.
The Postcard
A postcard published by Dearden & Wade of Bournemouth. The image is a glossy real photograph.
The card was posted in Cornwall on Sunday the 26th. August 1962 to:
Mr. J. B. Green,
No. 17, Lancet Lane,
Loose,
Maidstone,
Kent.
The message on the divided back of the card was as follows:
"Sat. 25th.
Had a very good journey
down yesterday.
Arrived to bright sun,
and this morning is nice.
Sheila's house is very
nice.
Daphne".
Rock
Rock is a coastal fishing village in Cornwall opposite Padstow on the north-east bank of the River Camel estuary.
Rock is best known for its estuary frontage. Rock Dunes, sand dunes to the west of the village on the banks of the River Camel, are designated a Site of Special Scientific Interest for their flora and geology.
Rock is popular with holidaymakers, and in 1881 the hotel was enlarged, a new sea-wall built and a bathing house erected on the beach. It is now a well-established centre for water sports including dinghy racing, waterskiing, windsurfing, and sailing.
The Black Tor Ferry operates across the river to the town of Padstow, and this is a major source of tourist traffic through Rock. The early 21st. century has seen extensive building work and increased prosperity for Rock - there a large number of holiday homes, as well as a number of retail outlets.
Rock has been referred to as 'Britain's Saint-Tropez' and the 'Kensington of Cornwall'. due to its popularity with affluent holidaymakers. Property prices there are very high. The Daily Telegraph has also called it 'Chelsea-on-Sea', and stated that former Prime Minister David Cameron's favourite beer is brewed there.
Sir Craig Mackey and the Westminster Atrocity of 2017
So what else happened on the day that Daphne posted the card?
Well, the 26th. August 1962 marked the birth in Carlisle of Craig Mackey.
Sir Craig Thomas Mackey is a former British police officer who served as Deputy Commissioner of London's Metropolitan Police Service from 2012 until 2018.
On the 22nd. March 2017, while acting as Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, Mackey was in a car on a routine visit to the Palace of Westminster. He was in New Palace Yard during the 2017 Westminster terrorist attack, and was described as a 'significant witness'.
As a result of this, it was claimed that he could not issue any public statements, including any responses to criticism of his conduct.
Much of that criticism compared Mackey’s actions unfavourably with those of the armed protection officer who shot Khalid Masood (the car and knife attacker) dead. Gaby Hinsliff wrote in The Guardian:
'A Met chief stayed in his car during
an attack. That’s not leadership. What
apparently most enrages those officers
now condemning Mackey is a sense
that their own leaders wouldn’t do what
is asked of them every day, and that
perhaps speaks to a more deep-rooted
sense of betrayal going back years.
It’s horribly unfair to call Craig Mackey
a coward, particularly from the safety
of civilian armchairs.
He made what was in all probability the
cowardly decision.
But it does not, somehow, look like the
decision of a leader. In fact it stinks of the
'Do as I say, not as I do' double standards
of today's politically sensitive police
service management.'
Subsequently, at the inquest into the death of Masood, the chief coroner of England and Wales, Mark Lucraft QC, described Mackey’s actions as:
'Sensible and proper, and intended
to protect others in the car'.
Lucraft said Mackey did not flee the scene:
'You may well think that it was important
for the most senior police officer in the
country to be at New Scotland Yard, where
he could take command and control of what,
at that time, could potentially have been
part of a much larger attack.'
You may well think otherwise.
Lucraft's interpretations of Mackey's actions are charitable to say the least. The fact remains that Sir Craig Mackey locked himself in a car during the attack, and didn't rush to help PC Palmer who was being fatally stabbed by the knifeman.
Mackey subsequently told the Old Bailey that his 'instinct' was to get out of the car, but he remained locked inside as he was unarmed, in a short-sleeved shirt with no police radio or protective equipment, and was accompanied by two civilian police staff who had no formal officer training.
--- If Mackey had gone to help, would the civilians remaining in the car
not have known how to lock the car from the inside?
--- And would a critical two minutes or so helping with the desperate
situation have seriously impeded Mackey's administrative work at New
Scotland Yard?
CCTV shows that about 20 seconds after Masood was shot dead by close protection officers, Sir Craig’s car was driven out of the gates into Parliament Square.
After 33 years with the Police, Mackey held his position as Acting Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police for a further 19 days; his last day in office was the 10th. April 2017. Sir Craig Mackey retired from the police service in December 2018, and was succeeded by Sir Stephen House.
The 2017 Westminster Terrorist Attack
The protracted terrorist attack ended outside the Palace of Westminster in London, the seat of the British Parliament. The attacker, 52-year-old Briton Khalid Masood, first drove a car into pedestrians on the pavement along the south side of Westminster Bridge and Bridge Street, injuring more than 50 people, four of them fatally.
He then crashed the car into the perimeter railings of the Palace grounds and ran into New Palace Yard, where he fatally stabbed an unarmed police officer. He was then shot by an armed police officer, and died at the scene.
Background to the Attack
Police treated the attack as Islamist-related terrorism. Masood said in a final text message that he was waging jihad in revenge for Western military action in Muslim countries in the Middle East.
Prior to the attack, the UK Threat Level for terrorism in the country was listed as 'severe', meaning an attack was 'highly likely'.
The Assassination of Airey Neave, DSO, OBE, MC, TD
There had not been a killing at the Palace of Westminster since the assassination of Airey Neave by the Irish National Liberation Army in 1979.
During WWII, Airey Neave was the first British prisoner of war to escape from Colditz Castle.
Neave was critically wounded when a magnetic car bomb fitted with a ball bearing tilt-switch exploded under his Vauxhall Cavalier at 14:58 as he drove up a ramp out of the Palace of Westminster car park on the 30th. March 1979.
He lost both his legs in the explosion, and died of his wounds at Westminster Hospital an hour after being rescued from the wrecked car, without having regained consciousness. He was aged 63.
The INLA issued a statement regarding the murder in the August 1979 edition of 'The Starry Plough':
'In March, retired terrorist and supporter
of capital punishment, Airey Neave, got
a taste of his own medicine when an INLA
unit pulled off the operation of the decade
and blew him to bits inside the 'impregnable'
Palace of Westminster.
The nauseous Margaret Thatcher snivelled
on television that he was an 'incalculable
loss'—and so he was—to the British ruling
class'.
As a result of Neave's assassination, the INLA was declared illegal across the whole of the United Kingdom on the 2nd. July 1979.
The 7/7 Bombings
The previous terrorist attack to have caused multiple casualties on the British mainland had been the 7th. July 2005 London underground and bus bombings. Please search for the tag 89LQH54 for information about the 7/7 bombings.
The Westminster Attack
At 14:40 a grey Hyundai Tucson, hired in Birmingham, was driven at up to 76 miles per hour (122 km/h) into pedestrians along the pavement on the south side of Westminster Bridge and Bridge Street, causing multiple casualties.
(a) Kurt and Melissa Cochran
The attack started when Khalid Masood mounted the kerb. He turned the car toward the pavement and crashed into an American couple named Kurt and Melissa Cochran.
Before the collision, Kurt had pushed Melissa out of the way and took the full hit. Kurt flew off the bridge and landed on the embankment below, falling 5.12 metres (16 ft 10 in), fatally injured. Melissa survived the attack, and was wounded after being pushed by the car into a kiosk.
(b) Leslie Rhodes
The attack continued as Masood drove down the pavement and moved 22 metres (72 ft.) forward. Masood then hit Leslie Rhodes and dragged him underneath the vehicle for 33 metres (108 ft.), whilst moving back to the road to avoid a traffic sign.
(c) Aysha Frade
Masood then mounted the pavement again and hit Aysha Frade. Aysha somersaulted approx. 17 metres (56 ft.), and landed in the bus lane, underneath the rear of a bus. The bus was moving during the time, and ran over her.
The Tucson moved towards the road again, with the driver's side on the road while the passenger's side was on the pavement.
(d) Andreea Cristea
The car struck multiple people before hitting Andreea Cristea, who had been out with her boyfriend. Cristea, a Romanian tourist, was thrown by the car's impact over the parapet of the bridge into the River Thames below.
Having been knocked unconscious and sustaining severe injuries from the fall, Andreea was rescued by the crew of a river cruise and brought aboard a London Fire Brigade boat. She later died in hospital from her injuries.
The Palace of Westminster
After striking Andreea, the Tucson crashed into railings on Bridge Street at the north perimeter of the Palace of Westminster, trying to aim at a group of pedestrians in the area.
Masood, wearing black clothes and wielding a knife in each hand, got out of the car and ran around the corner into Parliament Square and through the open Carriage Gates where he got into a struggle with an unarmed police officer, PC Keith Palmer.
Masood pushed PC Palmer back against the barrier wall, making Palmer trip. While Palmer was lying against the wall, Masood fatally stabbed him. An armed police officer witnessed the stabbing, ran towards the scene and shot Masood dead.
During that time, Palmer managed to go past the vehicle barrier and tried to go towards the area where the armed officers who had shot Masood were, until he eventually collapsed. The entire attack, from start to finish, lasted 82 seconds.
Despite attempts to resuscitate him, Masood died at the scene having been hit by all 3 shots fired by the police. The first bullet, which struck his upper torso, was believed to be the cause of death; he was pronounced dead at 15:35 in hospital.
Police colleagues and passers-by, including MP Tobias Ellwood and paramedics, attempted to revive PC Palmer, also without success. Police later confirmed that PC Palmer had been wearing a protective vest, which did not appear to have been punctured in the attack.
Aftermath of the Attack
Theresa May, the Prime Minister, who was in the Commons for a vote, was evacuated by her security team in the Prime Ministerial car, and taken to 10 Downing Street.
Additional armed police officers arrived, including Counter Terrorist Specialist Firearms Officers who were on scene within 6 minutes. An air ambulance attended the scene, landing in Parliament Square.
Parliament was suspended, and MPs remained in the Commons debating chamber as a precaution. Parliamentary staff were confined to their offices; journalists and visitors to Parliament were not permitted to leave the building. Some were later evacuated to Westminster Abbey.
The Scottish Parliament and the National Assembly for Wales also suspended their proceedings that afternoon. The UK government's emergency Cabinet Office Briefing Room (COBRA) committee, chaired by the Prime Minister, met in response to the attack. It was decided there was no need for the threat level to be raised as a result of the attack.
Casualties of the Attack
Reported fatalities and injuries by nationality were as follows:
British 11
American 11
Romanian 11
South Korean 4
French 3
Greek 2
Italian 2
Australian 1
Chinese 1
Irish 1
Polish 1
Portuguese 1
The Fatalities
Six people, including the attacker, died as a result of the incident, and over 50 others were injured, some of them severely. Of the five people killed by the attacker, three were British nationals.
One of the dead was a female teacher who was walking along the bridge to pick up her children from school. A tourist from the United States also died; he was visiting London from Utah to celebrate his 25th. anniversary with his wife, who was among the injured.
The third victim was a 75-year-old man from Clapham in south-west London, who was hit by the car and later died in hospital after his life support was switched off.
A fourth victim, a 31-year-old female tourist from Romania, fell into the Thames during the attack; she died in hospital as a result of her injuries on the 6th. April after her life support was withdrawn. Her Romanian boyfriend, who had planned to propose marriage during their trip to London, was also injured during the attack.
The police officer killed was PC Keith Palmer, 48, an unarmed police officer who was on duty with the Parliamentary and Diplomatic Protection command. Palmer had 15 years of experience in the Metropolitan Police Service.
Injuries
A dozen people received serious injuries, some described as 'catastrophic', and eight others were treated for less serious injuries at the scene.
Three French students, from Concarneau in Brittany, were among those injured; others included three police officers who were returning from a commendation ceremony, four students from Edge Hill University in Lancashire, and the wife of the American who was killed.
The Attacker
The attacker was identified by the Metropolitan Police as 52-year-old Briton Khalid Masood. He was born Adrian Russell Elms, but later changed the name to Adrian Russell Ajao when he took the name of his stepfather. He changed his name to Khalid Masood after he converted to Islam. Police said he also used several other aliases, including Khalid Choudry.
Born in Kent, Masood was brought up in Rye, East Sussex, and later attended secondary school in Tunbridge Wells in Kent. Most recently he was living in the West Midlands.
When he was 16, Masood dropped out of school, and by 18 he was described as a heavy cocaine user. In 2000, he was sentenced to two years in prison for grievous bodily harm after a knife attack in a public house in Northiam in Sussex.
In 2003, he was sentenced to a further six months in prison for possession of an offensive weapon following another knife attack in Eastbourne in Sussex. As well as these two prison terms, Masood had convictions for public order offences going back to 1983.
He converted to Islam while in prison, and changed his name to Khalid Masood in 2005.
A British newspaper obtained a CV of Masood's in which he described himself as having taught English in Saudi Arabia from November 2005 to November 2006, and again from April 2008 to April 2009. After this, according to the CV he returned to the United Kingdom and worked at a TEFL college in Luton.
In early March 2015, he made a brief trip to Saudi Arabia on an Umrah visa, normally issued to those making a pilgrimage to Mecca.
In 2010, Masood was described as a 'peripheral figure' in an MI5 investigation of a group of Islamists later convicted of plotting to bomb a Territorial Army base in Luton. Following a risk assessment, MI5 decided he did not pose a threat.
The Metropolitan Police said he was not the subject of any current investigations, and there was no prior intelligence about his intent to mount a terrorist attack.
Farasat Latif, director of the language school in Luton where Masood taught between 2010 and 2012, told The Guardian that when Masood lived in Luton he was apolitical, and not aligned with the younger and predominantly Asian local radical Islamist group Al-Muhajiroun.
Although aware of violence in Masood's past, Latif had only seen him become angry once, when Masood learnt of plans for a march by the English Defence League through Luton. Between 2012 and 2016, Masood appeared in MI5 investigations as a contact of individuals linked to Al-Muhajiroun.
Preparation for the Attack
Three days before the attack, Masood carried out reconnaissance of Westminster Bridge in person and online. Masood spent the night before the attack at the Preston Park Hotel in Brighton in Sussex, and was described as "laughing and joking" by the manager there. At a pre-inquest hearing, it was revealed that he had used anabolic steroids shortly before the terrorist attack.
Masood's Profile
Masood's profile was atypical, in that most jihadi terrorists are under 30, while he was 52.
Khalid Masood had taken out two payday loans so he could continue to feed his addiction to Lotto scratch cards. The jihadist was in debt, and behind on tax payments when he carried out his heinous attack on Westminster Bridge and the Houses of Parliament.
An ex-flatmate of Masood revealed that the killer received a warning letter from HM Revenue and Customs a week after he had killed five people in the car and knife rampage.
He had arranged to pay off £100 a month, but fell behind due to his love of gambling and alcohol.
The former flatmate, from Birmingham, told The Sun:
"It didn't fit in with his faith, because
both habits are banned under Islam.
He'd always be coming back with
scratch cards. He was not a good
Muslim."
The flatmate added:
"I never saw him go to work. He must
have spent a lot of what money he had
that way."
Motive for the Attack
On the 22nd. March, the day of the attack, the Metropolitan Police said it believed the attack was inspired by international terrorism, and that they were working under the assumption that it was specifically Islamist-related terrorism.
On the 23rd. March, the Islamic State-associated Amaq News Agency announced that the attacker was:
'A soldier of the Islamic State, executing
the operation in response to calls to
target citizens of coalition nations'.
The Home Secretary, Amber Rudd, cast doubts on this claim. Analysts monitoring Islamic State online said the claim appeared to be an effort to mask its losses in Iraq and Syria, adding that the lack of biographical information on the attacker and lack of specifics about the attack suggested it was not directly involved.
Describing Masood as a 'terrorist', the Metropolitan Police said it was investigating whether he was a lone aggressor inspired by terrorist propaganda, or was being directed by others. On the 25th. March Neil Basu, Deputy Assistant Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police and Senior National Coordinator for UK Counter-Terrorism Policing, announced that investigators believed Masood acted alone.
The security services later recovered the last WhatsApp message sent by Masood shortly before his attack. In it, Masood said he was waging jihad in revenge for Western military action in Muslim countries of the Middle East.
He had written a document named 'Jihad in the Quran and Sunnah', with his photograph on the front page and multiple extracts from the Quran that could be seen as supportive of jihad and martyrdom. He sent this document to numerous contacts a few minutes before the attack.
Investigation
At 23:00 on the 22nd. March, West Midlands Police raided a flat in Hagley Road, Birmingham. By the morning of the 23rd. March, six locations in East London and Birmingham had been raided, resulting in the arrests of eight people on suspicion of preparing terrorist acts. Officials also carried out searches in London, Brighton and Carmarthenshire.
By the 24th. March, three further arrests had taken place, two men overnight in the West Midlands and North West England and a woman during the day in Manchester. A woman, arrested earlier in East London, was released on bail. Later on the 24th. March, seven of those initially arrested were released without further action, and the woman arrested in Manchester was released on bail.
By the 25th. March, only one man from Birmingham remained in custody, and the woman on bail from East London had been removed from police enquiries. Up to that point in the investigation, 2,700 items had been seized and 3,500 witnesses had been contacted. A further arrest was made in Birmingham on the 26th. March. By the 1st. April, all 12 suspects arrested after the attack had been released without charge.
Inquests
Inquests for the dead victims were opened and adjourned on the 29th. March 2017, and into Masood's death the following day, both under the Senior Coroner for Westminster, Dr Fiona Wilcox.
On the 12th. October 2018, the jury at the inquest into Masood's death, held under the direction of the chief coroner of England and Wales, found that Masood had been lawfully killed by a minister's close protection officer identified only as SA74.
SA74 recounted to the court how Masood had ignored shouted warnings, and how he had opened fire in response to Masood running towards him brandishing a knife.
Official Reactions
Reactions to the attack expressed shock and outrage, and characterised it as an attack against liberty, freedom of speech, and democracy.
On the evening of the attack, the Brandenburg Gate in Germany and Tel Aviv City Hall in Israel were illuminated with the Union Jack. At midnight that evening, the Eiffel Tower's lights were switched off to honour those killed in the London attack.
Both the House of Commons and the House of Lords resumed their normal functions on the 23rd. March, the day after the attack. A one-minute silence in honour of the dead was observed in Parliament, and by London's emergency services, at 09:33. The time was selected to coincide with the start of the day's official parliamentary business.
In the morning session of parliament, Prime Minister Theresa May said:
"Yesterday an act of terrorism tried to
silence our democracy, but today we
meet as normal to deliver a simple
message: We are not afraid, and our
resolve will never waver in the face of
terrorism."
In a later statement following the 2017 London Bridge attack, May stated that:
"All three recent attacks were bound
together by the single evil ideology of
Islamic extremism".
The Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn, the Leader of the Opposition, described the attack as:
"An appalling atrocity".
The Scottish Parliament suspended the day's proceedings, including a debate on a second independence referendum. Some MSPs who opposed the decision to suspend parliament said that doing so was "giving in to terrorism".
On the 23rd. March, Jean-Marc Ayrault, France's Minister of Foreign Affairs, came to London, where he first visited the hospital where three French high school students injured in the attack were being treated, and later attended the morning session in the House of Commons.
On the 24th. March, Prince Charles visited victims of the attack at King's College Hospital.
Amber Rudd appeared on BBC's The Andrew Marr Show to call for government backdoor access to encrypted messaging services like WhatsApp, which Masood used to send a message shortly before the attack.
She announced a meeting with similar technology industry leaders for the 30th. March, where she would persuade them to voluntarily co-operate with the government. She refused to rule out passing new legislation to this end if the companies did not comply.
Commemoration of the Victims
The Metropolitan Police honoured PC Palmer by retiring his shoulder number 4157U.
Charlton Athletic F.C. announced that his season ticket seat at the Valley would not be occupied at the club's next home game, but would instead have a club scarf placed over it as a mark of respect.
A JustGiving fund was set up, with the target of raising £100,000 for PC Palmer's family, a goal attained in less than 24 hours.
On the 26th. March, in an event organised by Women's March on London, roughly 100 women, including many Muslims, joined hands to form a chain along Westminster Bridge and stood in silence for five minutes to pay tribute to the victims of the attack.
Prince William laid a wreath at the National Memorial Arboretum in honour of PC Palmer on the 29th. March. The Duke of Cambridge placed the wreath at the Police Memorial within the Arboretum in Staffordshire.
A hand-written note attached to the floral tribute read:
"For PC Keith Palmer and all those who
have served our community so valiantly;
your legacy is our way of life.
William."
In the 2017 Queen's Birthday Honours, PC Palmer was posthumously awarded the George Medal.
Documentary of the Medical Response to the Attack
The BBC TV series Hospital was filming a routine meeting at St. Mary's when the attack occurred; within minutes St. Mary's declared a 'major incident', one of several central London hospitals to do so. The cameras recorded the involvement of the emergency room and intensive care staff over the next few hours, and then followed the cases of three patients until their discharge.
The hour-long episode was broadcast in June, resulting in:
'A powerful, moving portrait of a major
trauma centre's response to such an
event, and of the brilliant human beings
who work there.'
La chiesa dei Frati Minori Conventuali, la iglesia de los Franciscanos conventuales, l'église des frères mineurs conventuels, church of Friars Minor Conventual
History
The church with the dowend tower
History of joy and suffering of an old christian time witness of Vienna
The Minoritenkirche in Vienna is one of the oldest and most valuable artistic churches of the city. It is therefore not surprising that it also experienced a very eventful history. In all probability, the Franciscans were - how the Friars Minor (Thomas of Celano: "Ordo Friars Minor" ) also called on account of its founders personality, called by the Babenberg Duke Leopold VI the Glorious, in 1230 into the country. Here he gave them a lot, probably with a church (probably dedicated to St. Catherine of Alexandria), before the walls of the city, between the Scots Monastery (Schottenstift) and the ducal residence. It was not until 1237, and in 1271 the entire area was included in the extended boundary wall. The Minorite Barnabas Strasser says in his chronicle from 1766 that Leopold had asked on his return from the Holy Land in 1219 Francis in Assisi to the relocation of some brothers to Vienna, which was then carried out 1224. The Franciscans, however, are detectable only in 1234 by a bull of Gregory IX . to Frederick the Warlike, the last reigning Babenberg, by the year 1239 there was already the Austrian province. The above-mentioned chapel near the present Minoritenkirche the brothers have now expanded and dedicated it to the Holy Cross ("Santa Croce"). In 1251 the dedication was by the Bishop Berthold of Passau. In addition, the friars began to build a monastery, the 1234 is mentioned in a document (the monastery comprised finally the Ballhausplatz, Minoritenplatz and parts of the Hofburg and the Public Garden) . Of the original Romanesque building stock nothing has been preserved. Especially the great fire of 1276 has cremated large parts of the Convention.
However, the strong growth of the Friars Minor now living in Vienna made a new building of the church and monastery necessary. Already laid by King Otakar II of Bohemia in 1276 the foundation stone for the new building of that temple which was now already on the present site of the church, the monarch also promised tax exemption for all who had contributed to the building of the church.
First stage of construction (beginning in the third third of the 13th century.): So he decided to build new church and convent, but by the death in battle of Ottokar in 1278 at the March Field (Jedlespeigen close Dürnkrut) delayed the construction, thus only after the turn of the century it couldbe completed. The embalmed body of Ottokar remained 30 weeks in the chapter house of the monastery until it was transferred to Znojmo and finally to Prague. The king's heart is buried in the original Chapel of St. Catherine, which was now newly assigned this name because the appropriation should be reserved to the Holy Cross of Christ, the new church and the convent . This newly built house of God was given the shape of a two-aisled nave with zweijochigem (two-bay) long choir (chancel), which closed with the five sides of a decagon. This long choir, the one 1785/86 and changed into a five-storey residential building, was canceled in 1903. In connection with the subway construction (1984-86), although archaeological excavations took place, it also laid the foundations of the former free long-choir, but most of the foundations of the old presbytery were destroyed at the same time. - The first church had a rood screen, even at the turn of the 15th/16th Century the still resulting image of the Saint Francis was attached by an unknown artist. Just from this first phase, we know by the Baroque Minoritenchronik (chronicle) first mentioned the name of a builder, namely brother Hans Schimpffenpfeil .
Second stage of construction (after 1317-1328 ) Blanche (Blanche) of Valois, the wife of Duke Rudolf III . (+ 1307) and daughter of Philip the Fair, in 1304 decreed in his will to build a chapel in honor of her grandfather, the Holy King Louis IX. of France (canonized in 1297) and introduced for this purpose in 1000 available books. However, the project was realized only under Isabella (Elizabeth ) of Aragon, wife of King Frederick the Fair (1330 +). The chapel dedicated to their relatives canonized in 1317, St . Louis of Anjou, son of Charles II of Naples, great-nephew of Louis IX . of France and Franciscan archbishop of Toulouse (1297 + ); it was first a self- cultivation in the NE (north-east) of the two-aisled nave Minoritenkirche, until the third construction phase it was integrated into the nave (now the north aisle with Anthony's Chapel). In 1328 the chapel was apparently completed because in 1330 the founder - was buried in the chapel of Louis - in terms of her testamentary disposition. The tomb of Queen Isabella stood in the middle of the Kapellenjochs (chapel bay) in front of the apse. The tracery show similarity with those of the Albertine choir of St. Stephen (built by Duke Albrecht II [+ 1358] ) as well as with that of the Sanctuary Strassengel near the Cistercian monastery Rein near Graz (around the middle of the 14th century.). Probably belonged to the tympanum with the donor portraits of Frederick the Fair and Isabella at the feet of the Mother of God, which was inserted in the third construction phase of the church in the secondary north portal, the original entrance to the Ludwig chapel. It must be mentioned that even the Duchess Blanche (1305 +) built around 1330 a high early gothic marble grave, which unfortunately disappeared in the course of the renovation of the church in the years 1784-86 by the court architect Johann Ferdinand Hetzendorf of Hohenberg. It would be in Vienna today the only work of art of this kind
Third stage of construction (from 1339 -1400): Construction of a three-aisled hall (originally nave chapel + Ludwig). The north wall of the chapel was extended to the west and in the north portal installed a second yoke. In addition, it was built a new west facade, with especially the central portal - including was designed - with jamb - pompous like the French late Gothic - perhaps under South German mediation. In the obituary of the Friars Minor brother Jacob of Paris is called (+ around 1340), the confessor Albrecht II as the creator of this work of art. The duke and his wife Johanna von Außenmauer MinoritenkirchePfirt have obviously significantly contributed to the emergence of Vienna undoubtedly unique late Gothic cathedrals three portal group, there is also a representation of Albrecht and his wife in the middle portal next to the cross of Christ. Together with the two for a rich Mendikantenkirche (Mendicity church) this equipment is also of French models (see Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris [after 1285] ) constructed in 1350-1370 with splendid rose windows (with "bright" and "rotating" tracery) to the south wall - unusually without a doubt. The workshop, which built the Ludwig chapel was also busy with the west facade ("Minoritenwerkstatt" (workshop)). 1350-60 or later today, finally, the bell tower was only partially built (as a builder is a lay brother Nicholas, + 1385 or 1386 called ). The tower consists mainly of two parts, a lower part made of stone blocks to the height of the nave, and an upper, octagonal section of mixed masonry. Its crown had because of damage - especially been renewed several times and was eventually removed - during the Turkish wars . The consecration of the enlarged Minoritenkirche must have taken place about the year 1390. So that the church had received its valid look for the next time.
In 1529, during the first siege of the monastery and the church even more extensive damage suffering (launch of the spire). Since the monastery of the Observant (Franciscans) had been destroyed by the Turks, these sought to supplant the Franciscans in their convent, where John Capistrano, the founder of the "brown Franciscan" (Observant) in Vienna, lived some time in the Franciscan monastery and in the Church had preached, but eventually instructed the Emperor Ferdinand I the now homeless Observant buildings on Singerschen Platz. In fact, the number of Wiener Friars Minor has then shrunk to seven, so that they felt compelled to call Fathers from Italy. But that but could not prevent that the church from 1569-1620 war a Protestant church. Interestingly, originate numerous coats of arms on the balcony of this period. At that time the Conventual were only in the possession of Louis Chapel and the Chapel of St. Catherine. Also during the second Turkish siege in 1683 the tower served as an observation tower and the Minoritenkirche was accordingly fired by the Turks and severely damaged. In 1733 the tower is adorned with a copper dome, but because of the danger of collapse eventually had to be removed. It brought the church to that low pointed tiled roof, which still exists today .
More and more, the bands developed in the Minoritenkirche, especially Ludwig chapel and cemetery, grave sites of the nobility. Besides Blanche of Valois and Isabella of Aragon and Margaret, the last country Duchess of Tyrol, was named Maultasch (+ 1369 ), is buried here, as well as members of Lichtsteiner, Ditrichsteins, Puchaimer, Hojo, Stauffenberger, Greifensteiner; Piccolomini, Medici, Cavalcanti, Montaldi, Valperga, etc. (many of them are listed in the "Libro d'Oro of the "Congregation Italiana"). It should also be mentioned that the Franciscans since the end of the 14th Century took lively interest in teaching at the University of Vienna, especially of course in the subjects of theology, but also the jurisprudence. At the beginning of the 18th Century lived in the Vienna alsoin the Viennese Convention the Venetian cosmographer Br Vincenzo Coronelli, which the Emperor Charles VI. appointed to head the regulation of the Danube and its famous globes are now in the globe collection of the National Library in Vienna.
It is worthnoting, finally, the fact that around 1543 on the Ballhausplatz near the Imperial Palace from parts of the monastery a small hospital was donated and that the Franciscans for 13 years did all the counseling in this new Hofspital, at this time was the newly restored Chapel of St. Catherine Hospital Church. Another wing of the former minority monastery was home to the Imperial Court Library, 1558-1613.
To Minoritenkirche the second half of the 18th Century brought drastic changes. This development was initiated by the fact that the naturalized Italians in Vienna founded an Italian congregation in 1625/26 under the guidance of the Jesuit priest and professor at the University of Vienna Wilhelm Lamormaini. By the year 1773, when the Jesuit Order was temporarily released their Italian trade fairs celebrated this "Congregation Italiana" in a chapel of the Jesuits at Bognergasse, near the old Jesuit church "Am Hof". But in 1773 that little church was by the imperial government requisited. Then the Italians found in St. Catherine Chapel at Ballhausplatz, which popularly still is referred as the Italian church - ie not only the Minoritenkirche - a new home. After a thorough restoration of the chapel was consecrated on 1 February 1775 ceremony in memory of the "Santa Maria Maggiore" to Rome in the name of "Madonna della Neve" (Mary Snow church'). The Holy Mass conducted Antonio Salieri (1750-1825), who was in 1774 chamber composer and conductor of the Italian opera in Vienna, from 1788-90 to 1824 Kapellmeister and Director of the Court Chapel. Pope Pius VI . visited during his stay in Vienna on Good Friday of 1782 the church "Maria Schnee" on the Ballhausplatz. But this state of the law was short-lived: in 1783 Emperor Joseph II shifted the Friars Minor in the former Trinitarian on Alserstrasse, and the Minoritenkirche was on the grounds that the chapel "p Maria della Neve" for about 7,000 Italians living in Vienna was too small, the Congregation italiana transferred to the condition that the Community had now to restore the Great Church (imperial decree of June 3, 1784). The richly decorated chapel "Madonna della Neve" went on an imperial property and was finally in the late 18th Century canceled. Also, the Franciscan monastery passed into state ownership: one is used for imperial and feudal law firms. The cemetery near the church was abandoned. With the greatest financial burdens now led the congregation from the imperial mission of the church renovation, the thorough repair of the church was entrusted to the court architect Johann Ferdinand Hetzendorf of Hohenberg (1784-1789). In order to cover the construction costs somewhat, were the old long choir (chancel) and the beginning of the 14th Century. (Consecrated in 1317 ) at the western end of the south side of the nave grown (and now defunct) St. John's Chapel (Chapel Puchaimische Kapelle ) converted into residences. The solemn consecration of the church under the name of "Madonna della Neve" took place on 16 April 1786, on Easter Sunday.
But soon was moving closer to the church the next hardship: In the years of the Napoleonic wars, the church should serve as a warehouse for straw, hay and for different equipment, so in 1809 also the forced evacuation of the building took place. Shortly after engaging the French eventually turned this into a provisions store. Two-thirds of the floor was smashed by the rolling of drums and by the retraction of cars. In the middle of the church a wide, tunnel-like cavity had been excavated and other parts of the floor destroyed a in God's house capped oven. Until 18 April 1810, the then Prefect of the Minoritenkirche received back the church keys. In 1825 died one of the most famous Kongregaten (congregats) of this century, namely, the composer Antonio Salieri, and on 22 June this year resounded in the Italian national church with the participation of the court chapel and the first Hofchores (court choir) the Verdi Requiem.
As the situation after the Napoleonic war turmoil in the mid-19th Century had normalized, Emperor Ferdinand the Good in 1845 donated to the "Congregation italiana" the according to the model of Leonardo da Vinci's famous fresco (1495-97) designed mosaic of the Last Supper, which the Roman Giacomo Raffaelli of 12 panels with a total weight of 20 tons by Napoleon's orders had made in the years 1806-1814, and was eventually bought by Emperor Franz for the Belvedere Palace. To that gave Emperor Ferdinand a considerable amount (8000 guilders) to allow the mounting of the work of art in the Minoritenkirche. The inauguration of the altar took place on 26nd in March 1847. In 1852 Emperor Franz Joseph came and soon the Crown Prince Franz Ferdinand in the "Congregation ". The former paid each year mostly coming from out of town fast preachers for the Church, in return he regularly received at the Festival of Lights (2 February) as well as on Palm Sunday the sacred candle or the olive branch.
The last major change in the church took place in the years 1892-1905 at the restructuring of the Minoritenplatz. Now two new courses, namely the Ballhausplatz and Minoritenplatz emerged, the houses adjacent to the church (former Long John's Chapel Choir and) were demolished. The former Franciscan monastery had to give way to the House, Court and State Archives. Even the church was given a new face, although the plans of the architect Viktor Luntz due to financial reasons only could be realized partially, there were clearly visible changes: Most noticeable to the viewer is undoubtedly the Gothic passage on the south side of the walled grave stones originated partly from the bands, and part of the adjacent once cemetery, as well as the above installed "Minoritenhaus". 1907 were placed in the tower four new bells cast in Trento, which is, however - with the exception of one, St. Anthony ordained, Bell - 1914 confiscated. The solemn consecration of the church took place on 4 Held in May 1909 in the presence of Emperor Franz Joseph. Due to the highly cooperative attitude of the Congregation towards the transformation plans of the City of Vienna Lueger, the mayor promised that the court should never be installed directly behind the church.
More important restoration work was carried out 1960-1962 (church affairs), in the last decade, as the outer walls have been restored.
About Minoritenplatz finally should be mentioned that the pastoral care of Italians after 1786 by each rectors appointed by the Archbishop was, from 1808 to 1813 was also here Clemens Maria Hofbauer who died 1820 and later was canonized working as a church rector. Therefore, there is also his monument on the north side of the church. Since the year 1953, and officially by the order of the archbishop Ordinariate of 1 December 1957 is the Friars Minor transmitted the pastoral care of the Italian community again, firstly the Fathers belonging to the Order of Padua Province while they are under the Austrian province today. In the year 2003, ie 50 years after the adoption of the pastoral care of Italians in the Minoritenkirche by the Conventual, that Francis statue was made, nowadays, it is located on the north side of the church, next to the Baroque cultivation.
(Text by Dr. Manfred Zips , Ital. Congregation )
❝Life Expectancy❞
Illustrations’ composition, inspired by Chapt. Eighteen.
Book’s title:
“The Right To The Truth”
Book’s webpage:
www.papachristos.eu/righttothetruth/
[—Life expectancy for one single patient’s case CAN’T and SHOULDN’T be attempted to be predicted.
—Statistical numerical values based on Populations (or Groups) of many patients can’t be misused for any given One (1) patient’s singularity.
—An illustration reinforces Bob’s story, as in Chapter 18 of the book “The Right To The Truth.” —]
#cancer #lifeexpectancy #survival #actuarialsurvival #meansurvival #averagesurvival #survivalprobability #statistical #wrongprediction #predictionerror #patientsRights #abuse #exploitation #cancerAwareness #CancerDiagnosis #disclosure #info #information #informing #howtobreakbadnews #icpapgr #papachristos #RightToTheTruth #book #paperback #kindle #corruption #staging #stage #documentation #treatmen #greenisforhope #hope #truth #notlying
+++ DISCLAIMER +++
Nothing you see here is real, even though the conversion or the presented background story might be based on historical facts. BEWARE!
Some background:
The ZSU-37-6 (“ZSU” stands for Zenitnaya Samokhodnaya Ustanovka / Зенитная Самоходная Установка = "anti-aircraft self-propelled mount"), also known as Object 511 during its development phase and later also as “ZSU-37-6 / Лена”, was a prototype for a lightly armored Soviet self-propelled, radar guided anti-aircraft weapon system that was to replace the cannon-armed ZSU-23-4 “Shilka” SPAAG.
The development of the "Shilka" began in 1957 and the vehicle was brought into service in 1965. The ZSU-23-4 was intended for AA defense of military facilities, troops, and mechanized columns on the march. The ZSU-23-4 combined a proven radar system, the non-amphibious chassis based on the GM-575 tracked vehicle, and four 23 mm autocannons. This delivered a highly effective combination of mobility with heavy firepower and considerable accuracy, outclassing all NATO anti-aircraft guns at the time. The system was widely fielded throughout the Warsaw Pact and among other pro-Soviet states. Around 2,500 ZSU-23-4s, of the total 6,500 produced, were exported to 23 countries.
The development of a potential successor started in 1970. At the request of the Soviet Ministry of Defense, the KBP Instrument Design Bureau in Tula started work on a new mobile anti-aircraft system as a replacement for the 23mm ZSU-23-4. The project was undertaken to improve on the observed shortcomings of the ZSU-23-4 (short range and no early warning) and to counter new ground attack aircraft in development, such as the A-10 Thunderbolt II, which was designed to be highly resistant to 23 mm cannons.
KBP studies demonstrated that a cannon of at least 30 mm caliber was necessary to counter these threats, and that a bigger caliber weapon would offer some more benefits. Firstly, to destroy a given target, such a weapon would only require from a third to a half of the number of shells that the ZSU-23-4’s 23 mm cannon would need. Secondly, comparison tests revealed that firing with an identical mass of 30 mm projectiles instead of 23 mm ammunition at a MiG-17 (or similarly at NATO's Hawker Hunter or Fiat G.91…) flying at 300 m/s would result in a 1.5 times greater kill probability. An increase in the maximum engagement altitude from 2,000 to 4,000 m and higher effectiveness when engaging lightly armored ground targets were also cited as potential benefits.
The initial requirements set for the new mobile weapon system were to achieve twice the performance in terms of the ZSU-23-4’s range, altitude and combat effectiveness. Additionally, the system should have a reaction time, from target acquisition to firing, no greater than 10 seconds, so that enemy helicopters that “popped up” from behind covers and launched fire-and-forget weapons at tanks or similar targets could be engaged effectively.
From these specifications KBP developed two schools of thought that proposed different concepts and respective vehicle prototypes: One design team followed the idea of an anti-aircraft complex with mixed cannon and missile armament, which made it effective against both low and high-flying targets but sacrificed short-range firepower. The alternative proposed by another team was a weapon carrier armed only with a heavy gatling-type gun, tailored to counter targets flying at low altitudes, esp. helicopters, filling a similar niche as the ZSU-23-4 and leaving medium to high altitude targets to specialized anti-aircraft missiles. The latter became soon known as “Object 511”.
Object 511 was based on the tracked and only lightly armored GM-577 chassis, produced by Minsk Tractor Works (MTZ). It featured six road wheels on each side, a drive sprocket at the rear and three return rollers. The chassis was primarily chosen because it was already in use for other anti-aircraft systems like the 2K11 “Krug” complex and could be taken more or less “off the rack”. A new feature was a hydropneumatic suspension, which was chosen in order to stabilize the chassis as firing platform and also to cope with the considerably higher all-up weight of the vehicle (27 tons vs. the ZSU-23-4’s 19 tons). Other standard equipment of Object 511 included heating, ventilation, navigational equipment, night vision aids, a 1V116 intercom and an external communications system with an R-173 receiver.
The hull was - as the entire vehicle - protected from small arms fire (7,62mm) and shell splinters, but not heavily armored. An NBC protection system was integrated into the chassis, as well as an automatic fire suppression system and an automatic gear change. The main engine bay, initially with a 2V-06-2 water-cooled multi-fuel diesel engine with 450 hp (331 kW) was in the rear. It was later replaced by a more powerful variant of the same engine with 510 hp (380 kW).
The driver sat in the front on the left side, with a small gas turbine APU to his right to operate the radar and hydraulic systems independently from the main engine.
Between these hull segments, the chassis carried a horseshoe-shaped turret with full 360° rotation. It was relatively large and covered more than the half of the hull’s roof, because it held the SPAAGs main armament and ammunition supply, the search and tracking radar equipment as well as a crew of two: the commander with a cupola on the right side and the gunner/radar operator on the left side, with the cannon installation and its feeding system between them. In fact, it was so large that Object 511’s engine bay was only accessible when the turret was rotated 90° to the side – unacceptable for an in-service vehicle (which would probably have been based on a bigger chassis), but accepted for the prototype which was rather focused on the turret and its complex weapon and radar systems.
Object 511’s centerpiece was the newly-developed Gryazev-Shipunov GSh-6-37 cannon, a heavy and experimental six-barreled 37mm gatling gun. This air-cooled weapon with electrical ignition was an upscaled version of the naval AO-18 30mm gun, which was part of an automated air defense system for ships, the AK-630 CIWS complex. Unlike most modern American rotary cannons, the GSh-6-37 was gas-operated rather than hydraulically driven, allowing it to "spin up" to maximum rate of fire more quickly. This resulted in more rounds and therefore weight of fire to be placed on target in a short burst, reduced reaction time and allowed hits even in a very small enemy engagement window.
The GSh-6-37 itself weighed around 524 kg (1.154 lb), the whole system, including the feed system and a full magazine, weighed 7,493 pounds (3,401 kg). The weapon had a total length of 5.01 m (16’ 7“), its barrels were 2.81 m (9’ 2½”) long. In Object 511’s turret it had an elevation between +80° and -11°, moving at 60°/sec, and a full turret rotation only took 3 seconds. Rate of fire was 4,500 rounds per minute, even though up to 5.500 RPM were theoretically possible and could be cleared with an emergency setting. However, the weapon would typically only fire short bursts of roundabout 50 rounds each, or longer bursts of 1-2 (maximum) seconds to save ammunition and to avoid overheating and damage – initially only to the barrels, but later also to avoid collateral damage from weapon operation itself (see below). Against ground targets and for prolonged, safe fire, the rate of fire could alternatively be limited to 150 RPM.
The GSh-6-37 fired 1.09 kg shells (each 338mm long) at 1,070 m/s (3.500 ft/s), developing a muzzle energy of 624,000 joules. This resulted in an effective range of 6,000 m (19.650 ft) against aerial and 7,000 m (23.0000 ft) against ground targets. Maximum firing range was past 7,160 m (23,490 ft), with the projectiles self-destructing beyond that distance. In a 1 sec. burst, the weapon delivered an impressive weight of fire of almost 100 kg.
The GSh-6-37 was belt-fed, with a closed-circuit magazine to avoid spilling casings all around and hurting friendly troops in the SPAAG’s vicinity. Typical types of ammunition were OFZT (proximity-fused incendiary fragmentation) and BZT (armor-piercing tracer, able to penetrate more than 60 mm of 30° sloped steel armor at 1.000 m/3.275’ distance). Since there was only a single ammunition supply that could not be switched, these rounds were normally loaded in 3:1 ratio—three OFZT, then one BZT, every 10th BZT round marked with a tracer. Especially the fragmentation rounds dealt extensive collateral damage, as the sheer numbers of fragments from detonating shells was sufficient to damage aircraft flying within a 200-meter radius from the impact center. This, coupled with the high density of fire, created a very effective obstacle for aerial targets and ensured a high hit probability even upon a casual and hurried attack.
The gun was placed in the turret front’s center, held by a massive mount with hydraulic dampers. The internal ammunition supply in the back of the turret comprised a total of 1.600 rounds, but an additional 800 rounds could be added in an external reserve feed bin, attached to the back of the turret and connected to the internal belt magazine loop through a pair of ports in the turret’s rear, normally used to reload the GSh-6-37.
A rotating, electronically scanned E-band (10 kW power) target acquisition radar array was mounted on the rear top of the turret that, when combined with the turret front mounted J-band (150 kW power) mono-pulse tracking radar, its dish antenna hidden under a fiberglass fairing to the right of the main weapon, formed the 1RL144 (NATO: Hot Shot) pulse-Doppler 3D radar system. Alongside, the 1A26 digital computer, a laser rangefinder co-axial to the GSh-6-37, and the 1G30 angle measurement system formed the 1A27 targeting complex.
Object 511’s target acquisition offered a 360-degree field of view, a detection range of around 18 km and could detect targets flying as low as 15 m. The array could be folded down and stowed when in transit, lying flat on the turret’s roof. The tracking radar had a range of 16 km, and a C/D-band IFF system was also fitted. The radar system was highly protected against various types of interference and was able to work properly even if there were mountains on the horizon, regardless of the background. The system made it possible to fire the GSh-6-37 on the move, against targets with a maximum target speed of up to 500 m/s, and it had an impressive reaction time of only 6-8 seconds.
Thanks to its computerized fire control system, the 1A27 was highly automated and reduced the SPAAG’s crew to only three men, making a dedicated radar operator (as on the ZSU-23-4) superfluous and saving internal space in the large but still rather cramped turret.
Development of Object 511 and its systems were kicked-off in 1972 but immediately slowed down with the introduction of the 9K33 “Osa” missile system, which seemed to fill the same requirement but with greater missile performance. However, after some considerable debate it was felt that a purely missile-based system would not be as effective at dealing with very low flying attack helicopters attacking at short range with no warning, as had been proven so successful in the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. Since the reaction time of a gun system was around 8–10 seconds, compared to approximately 30 seconds for a missile-based system, development of Object 511 was restarted in 1973.
A fully functional prototype, now officially dubbed “ZSU-37-6“ to reflect its role and armament and christened “Лена” (Lena, after the Russian river in Siberia), was completed in 1975 at the Ulyanovsk Mechanical Factory, but it took until 1976 that the capricious weapon and the 1A27 radar system had been successfully integrated and made work. System testing and trials were conducted between September 1977 and December 1978 on the Donguzskiy range, where the vehicle was detected by American spy satellites and erroneously identified as a self-propelled artillery system with a fully rotating turret (similar to the American M109), as a potential successor for the SAU-122/2S1 Gvozdika or SAU-152/2S3 Akatsiya SPGs that had been introduced ten years earlier, with a lighter weapon of 100-120mm caliber and an autoloader in the large turret.
The tests at Donguzskiy yielded mixed results. While the 1A27 surveillance and acquisition radar complex turned out to be quite effective, the GSh-6-37 remained a constant source of problems. The gun was highly unreliable and afforded a high level of maintenance. Furthermore, it had a massive recoil of 6.250 kp/61 kN when fired (the American 30 mm GAU-8 Avenger “only” had a recoil of 4.082 kp/40 kN). As a result, targets acquired by the 1A27 system were frequently lost after a single burst of fire, so that they had to be tracked anew before the next shot could be placed.
To make matters even words, the GSh-6-37 was noted for its high and often uncomfortable vibration and extreme noise, internally and externally. Pressure shock waves from the gun muzzles made the presence of unprotected personnel in the weapon’s proximity hazardous. The GSh-6-37’s massive vibrations shook the whole vehicle and led to numerous radio and radar system failures, tearing or jamming of maintenance doors and access hatches and the cracking of optical sensors. The effects were so severe that the gun’s impact led after six months to fatigue cracks in the gun mount, the welded turret hull, fuel tanks and other systems. One spectacular and fateful showcase of the gun’s detrimental powers was a transmission failure during a field test/maneuver in summer 1978 – which unfortunately included top military brass spectators and other VIPs, who were consequently not convinced of the ZSU-37-6 and its weapon.
The GSh-6-37’s persisting vibration and recoil problems, as well as its general unreliability if it was not immaculately serviced, could not be satisfactorily overcome during the 2 years of state acceptance trials. Furthermore, the large and heavy turret severely hampered Object 511’s off-road performance and handling, due to the high center of gravity and the relatively small chassis, so that the weapon system’s full field potential could not be explored. Had it found its way into a serial production vehicle, it would certainly have been based on a bigger and heavier chassis, e.g. from an MBT. Other novel features tested with Object 511, e.g. the hydropneumatic suspension and the automated 1A27 fire control system, proved to be more successful.
However, the troublesome GSh-6-37 temporarily attained new interest in 1979 through the Soviet Union’s engagement in Afghanistan, because it became quickly clear that conventional battle tanks, with long-barreled, large caliber guns and a very limited lift angle were not suited against small targets in mountainous regions and for combat in confined areas like narrow valleys or settlements. The GSh-6-37 appeared as a promising alternative weapon, and plans were made to mount it in a more strongly armored turret onto a T-72 chassis. A wooden mockup turret was built, but the project was not proceeded further with. Nevertheless, the concept of an armored support vehicle with high firepower and alternative armament would persist and lead, in the course of the following years, to a number of prototypes that eventually spawned the BMPT "Terminator" Tank Support Fighting Vehicle.
More tests and attempts to cope with the gun mount continued on a limited basis through 1979, but in late 1980 trials and development of Object 511 and the GSh-6-37 were stopped altogether: the 2K22 “Tunguska” SPAAG with mixed armament, developed in parallel, was preferred and officially accepted into service. In its original form, the 2K22 was armed with four 9M311 (NATO: SA-19 “Grison”) short-range missiles in the ready-to-fire position and two 2A38 30mm autocannons, using the same 1A27 radar system as Object 511. The Tunguska entered into limited service from 1984, when the first batteries, now armed with eight missiles, were delivered to the army, and gradually replaced the ZSU-23-4.
Having become obsolete, the sole Object 511 prototype was retired in 1981 and mothballed. It is today part of the Military Technical Museum collection at Ivanovskaya, near Moscow, even though not part of the public exhibition and in a rather derelict state, waiting for restoration and eventual display.
Specifications:
Crew: Three (commander, gunner, driver)
Weight: about 26,000 kg (57,300 lb)
Length: 7.78 m (25 ft 5 1/2 in) with gun facing forward
6.55 m (21 ft 5 1/2 in) hull only
Width: 3.25 m (10 ft 8 in)
Height: 3.88 m (12 ft 9 in) overall,
2.66 m (8 8 1/2 ft) with search radar stowed
Suspension: Hydropneumatic
Ground clearance: 17–57 cm
Fuel capacity: 760 l (200 US gal, 170 imp gal)
Armor:
Unknown, but probably not more than 15 mm (0.6”)
Performance:
Speed: 65 km/h (40 mph) maximum on the road
Climbing ability: 0.7 m (2.3')
Maximum climb gradient: 30°
Trench crossing ability: 2.5 m (8.2')
Fording depth: 1.0 m (3.3')
Operational range: 500 km (310 mi)
Power/weight: 24 hp/t
Engine:
1× 2V-06-2S water-cooled multi-fuel diesel engine with 510 hp (380 kW)
1× auxiliary DGChM-1 single-shaft gas turbine engine with 70 hp at 6,000 rpm,
connected with a direct-current generator
Transmission:
Hydromechanical
Armament:
1× GSh-6-37 six-barreled 37mm (1.5 in) Gatling gun with 1.600 rounds,
plus 800 more in an optional, external auxiliary magazine
The kit and its assembly:
This fictional SPAAG was intended as a submission to the “Prototypes” group build at whatifmodellers.com in August 2020. Inspiration came from a Trumpeter 1:72 2P25/SA-6 launch platform which I had recently acquired with a kit lot – primarily because of the chassis, which would lend itself for a conversion into “something else”.
The idea to build an anti-aircraft tank with a gatling gun came when I did research for my recent YA-14 build and its armament. When checking the American GAU-8 cannon from the A-10 I found that there had been plans to use this weapon for a short-range SPAAG (as a replacement for the US Army’s M163), and there had been plans for even heavier weapons in this role. For instance, there had been the T249 “Vigilante” prototype: This experimental system consisted of a 37 mm T250 six-barrel Gatling gun, mounted on a lengthened M113 armored personnel carrier platform, even though with a very limited ammunition supply, good only for 5 sec. of fire – it was just a conceptual test bed. But: why not create a Soviet counterpart? Even more so, since there is/was the real-world GSh-6-30 gatling gun as a potential weapon, which had, beyond use in the MiG-27, also been used in naval defense systems. Why not use/create an uprated/bigger version, too?
From this idea, things evolved in a straightforward fashion. The Trumpeter 2P25 chassis and hull were basically taken OOB, just the front was modified for a single driver position. However, the upper hull had to be changed in order to accept the new, large turret instead of the triple SA-6 launch array.
The new turret is a parts combination: The basis comes from a Revell 1:72 M109 howitzer kit, the 155 mm barrel was replaced with a QuickBoost 1:48 resin GSh-6-30 gun for a MiG-27, and a co-axial laser rangefinder (a piece of styrene) was added on a separate mount. Unfortunately, the Revell kit does not feature a movable gun barrel, so I decided to implant a functional joint, so that the model’s weapon could be displayed in raised and low position – primarily for the “action pictures”. The mechanism was scratched from styrene tubes and a piece of foamed plastic as a “brake” that holds the weapon in place and blocks the view into the turret from the front when the weapon is raised high up. The hinge was placed behind the OOB gun mantle, which was cut into two pieces and now works as in real life.
Further mods include the dish antenna for the tracking radar (a former tank wheel), placed on a disc-shaped pedestal onto the turret front’s right side, and the retractable rotating search radar antenna, scratched from various bits and pieces and mounted onto the rear of the turret – its roof had to be cleaned up to make suitable space next to the commander’s cupola.
Another challenge was the adaptation of the new turret to the hull, because the original SA-6 launch array has only a relatively small turret ring, and it is placed relatively far ahead on the hull. The new, massive turret had to be mounted further backwards, and the raised engine cowling on the back of the hull did not make things easier.
As a consequence, I had to move the SA-6 launcher ring bearing backwards, through a major surgical intervention in the hull roof (a square section was cut out, shortened, reversed and glued back again into the opening). In order to save the M109’s turret ring for later, I gave it a completely new turret floor and transplanted the small adapter ring from the SA-6 launch array to it. Another problem arose from the bulged engine cover: it had to be replaced with something flat, otherwise the turret would not have fitted. I was lucky to find a suitable donor in the spares box, from a Leopard 1 kit. More complex mods than expected, and thankfully most of the uglier changes are hidden under the huge turret. However, Object 511 looks pretty conclusive and menacing with everything in place, and the weapon is now movable in two axis’. The only flaw is a relatively wide gap between the turret and the hull, due to a step between the combat and engine section and the relatively narrow turret ring.
Painting and markings:
AFAIK, most Soviet tank prototypes in the Seventies/Eighties received a simple, uniform olive green livery, but ,while authentic, I found this to look rather boring. Since my “Object 511” would have taken part in military maneuvers, I decided to give it an Eighties Soviet Army three-tone camouflage, which was introduced during the late Eighties. It consisted of a relatively bright olive green, a light and cold bluish grey and black-grey, applied in large patches.
This scheme was also adapted by the late GDR’s Volksarmee (called “Verzerrungsanstrich” = “Distortion scheme”) and maybe – even though I am not certain – this special paint scheme might only have been used by Soviet troops based on GDR soil? However, it’s pretty unique and looks good, so I adapted it for the model.
Based upon visual guesstimates from real life pictures and some background info concerning NVA tank paint schemes, the basic colors became Humbrol 86 (Light Olive Green; RAL 6003), Revell 57 (Grey; RAL 7000) and Revell 06 (Tar Black; RAL 9021). Each vehicle had an individual paint scheme, in this case it was based on a real world NVA lorry.
On top of the basic colors, a washing with a mix of red brown and black acrylic paint was applied, and immediately dried with a soft cotton cloth so that it only remained in recesses and around edges, simulating dirt and dust. Some additional post-shading with lighter/brighter versions of the basic tones followed.
Decals came next – the Red Stars were a rather dramatic addition and came from the Trumpeter kit’s OOB sheet. The white “511” code on the flanks was created with white 3 mm letters from TL Modellbau.
The model received a light overall dry brushing treatment with light grey (Revell 75). As a finishing touch I added some branches as additional camouflage. These are bits of dried moss (collected on the local street), colorized with simple watercolors and attached with white glue. Finally, everything was sealed and stabilized with a coat of acrylic matt varnish and some pigments (a greyish-brown mix of various artist mineral pigments) were dusted into the running gear and onto the lower hull surfaces with a soft brush.
An effective kitbashing, and while mounting the different turret to the hull looks simple, the integration of unrelated hull and turret so that they actually fit and “work” was a rather fiddly task, and it’s effectively not obvious at all (which is good but “hides” the labour pains related to the mods). However, the result looks IMHO good, like a beefed-up ZSU-23-4 “Schilka”, just what this fictional tank model is supposed to depict.
30 meters tall, weighing about 45 tons and yet transparent and light, the large sculpture by famous American artist Jonathan Borofsky has been on show in Berlin since May 1999. With the three aluminium figures, which unite to create a whole, the artist reminds us "that both people and molecules exist in a world of probability and that the aim of all creative and intellectual traditions is to find wholeness and unity within the world." The special location of Treptow, in the River Spree in Berlin.
Comments are appreciated, but no graphics please.
Technical stuff:
Canon EOS 5D Mark III
Canon EF16-35mm f/2.8L II USM
f/2.8
21 mm
16min 10 sec.
ISO 50
2 x Lee Big Stopper
Total of 20 stops
Software:
Capture One 7 Pro
PS5
Silver Efex Pro
Follow me on:
in all probability BFFs and locals club members since birth at club sarmiento de avellaneda buenos aires argentina
With the rain falling harder, it was a bit of a route march to Holborn and my next church, the stunning St Sepulchre, which was also open.
-----------------------------------------------------
St Sepulchre-without-Newgate, also known as the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (Holborn), is an Anglican church in the City of London. It is located on Holborn Viaduct, almost opposite the Old Bailey. In medieval times it stood just outside ("without") the now-demolished old city wall, near the Newgate. It has been a living of St John's College, Oxford, since 1622.
The original Saxon church on the site was dedicated to St Edmund the King and Martyr. During the Crusades in the 12th century the church was renamed St Edmund and the Holy Sepulchre, in reference to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. The name eventually became contracted to St Sepulchre.
The church is today the largest parish church in the City. It was completely rebuilt in the 15th century but was gutted by the Great Fire of London in 1666,[1] which left only the outer walls, the tower and the porch standing[2] -. Modified in the 18th century, the church underwent extensive restoration in 1878. It narrowly avoided destruction in the Second World War, although the 18th-century watch-house in its churchyard (erected to deter grave-robbers) was completely destroyed and had to be rebuilt.
The interior of the church is a wide, roomy space with a coffered ceiling[3] installed in 1834. The Vicars' old residence has recently been renovated into a modern living quarter.
During the reign of Mary I in 1555, St Sepulchre's vicar, John Rogers, was burned as a heretic.
St Sepulchre is named in the nursery rhyme Oranges and Lemons as the "bells of Old Bailey". Traditionally, the great bell would be rung to mark the execution of a prisoner at the nearby gallows at Newgate. The clerk of St Sepulchre's was also responsible for ringing a handbell outside the condemned man's cell in Newgate Prison to inform him of his impending execution. This handbell, known as the Execution Bell, now resides in a glass case to the south of the nave.
The church has been the official musicians' church for many years and is associated with many famous musicians. Its north aisle (formerly a chapel dedicated to Stephen Harding) is dedicated as the Musicians' Chapel, with four windows commemorating John Ireland, the singer Dame Nellie Melba, Walter Carroll and the conductor Sir Henry Wood respectively.[4] Wood, who "at the age of fourteen, learned to play the organ" at this church [1] and later became its organist, also has his ashes buried in this church.
The south aisle of the church holds the regimental chapel of the Royal Fusiliers (City of London Regiment), and its gardens are a memorial garden to that regiment.[5] The west end of the north aisle has various memorials connected with the City of London Rifles (the 6th Battalion London Regiment). The church was designated a Grade I listed building on 4 January 1950.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Sepulchre-without-Newgate
The Early History of St. Sepulchre's—Its Destruction in 1666—The Exterior and Interior—The Early Popularity of the Church—Interments here—Roger Ascham, the Author of the "Schoolmaster"—Captain John Smith, and his Romantic Adventures—Saved by an Indian Girl— St. Sepulchre's Churchyard—Accommodation for a Murderess—The Martyr Rogers—An Odd Circumstance—Good Company for the Dead—A Leap from the Tower—A Warning Bell and a Last Admonition—Nosegays for the Condemned—The Route to the Gallows-tree— The Deeds of the Charitable—The "Saracen's Head"—Description by Dickens—Giltspur Street—Giltspur Street Compter—A Disreputable Condition—Pie Corner—Hosier Lane—A Spurious Relic—The Conduit on Snow Hill—A Ladies' Charity School—Turnagain Lane—Poor Betty!—A Schoolmistress Censured—Skinner Street—Unpropitious Fortune—William Godwin—An Original Married Life.
Many interesting associations—Principally, however, connected with the annals of crime and the execution of the laws of England—belong to the Church of St. Sepulchre, or St. 'Pulchre. This sacred edifice—anciently known as St. Sepulchre's in the Bailey, or by Chamberlain Gate (now Newgate)—stands at the eastern end of the slight acclivity of Snow Hill, and between Smithfield and the Old Bailey. The genuine materials for its early history are scanty enough. It was probably founded about the commencement of the twelfth century, but of the exact date and circumstances of its origin there is no record whatever. Its name is derived from the Holy Sepulchre of our Saviour at Jerusalem, to the memory of which it was first dedicated.
The earliest authentic notice of the church, according to Maitland, is of the year 1178, at which date it was given by Roger, Bishop of Sarum, to the Prior and Canons of St. Bartholomew. These held the right of advowson until the dissolution of monasteries by Henry VIII., and from that time until 1610 it remained in the hands of the Crown. James I., however, then granted "the rectory and its appurtenances, with the advowson of the vicarage," to Francis Phillips and others. The next stage in its history is that the rectory was purchased by the parishioners, to be held in fee-farm of the Crown, and the advowson was obtained by the President and Fellows of St. John the Baptist College, at Oxford.
The church was rebuilt about the middle of the fifteenth century, when one of the Popham family, who had been Chancellor of Normandy and Treasurer of the King's Household, with distinguished liberality erected a handsome chapel on the south side of the choir, and the very beautiful porch still remaining at the south-west corner of the building. "His image," Stow says, "fair graven in stone, was fixed over the said porch."
The dreadful fire of 1666 almost destroyed St. Sepulchre's, but the parishioners set energetically to work, and it was "rebuilt and beautified both within and without." The general reparation was under the direction of Sir Christopher Wren, and nothing but the walls of the old building, and these not entirely, were suffered to remain. The work was done rapidly, and the whole was completed within four years.
"The tower," says Mr. Godwin, "retained its original aspect, and the body of the church, after its restoration, presented a series of windows between buttresses, with pointed heads filled with tracery, crowned by a string-course and battlements. In this form it remained till the year 1790, when it appears the whole fabric was found to be in a state of great decay, and it was resolved to repair it throughout. Accordingly the walls of the church were cased with Portland stone, and all the windows were taken out and replaced by others with plain semi-circular heads, as now seen—certainly agreeing but badly with the tower and porch of the building, but according with the then prevailing spirit of economy. The battlements, too, were taken down, and a plain stone parapet was substituted, so that at this time (with the exception of the roof, which was wagon-headed, and presented on the outside an unsightly swell, visible above the parapet) the church assumed its present appearance." The ungainly roof was removed, and an entirely new one erected, about 1836.
At each corner of the tower—"one of the most ancient," says the author of "Londinium Redivivum," "in the outline of the circuit of London" —there are spires, and on the spires there are weathercocks. These have been made use of by Howell to point a moral: "Unreasonable people," says he, "are as hard to reconcile as the vanes of St. Sepulchre's tower, which never look all four upon one point of the heavens." Nothing can be said with certainty as to the date of the tower, but it is not without the bounds of probability that it formed part of the original building. The belfry is reached by a small winding staircase in the south-west angle, and a similar staircase in an opposite angle leads to the summit. The spires at the corners, and some of the tower windows, have very recently undergone several alterations, which have added much to the picturesqueness and beauty of the church.
The chief entrance to St. Sepulchre's is by a porch of singular beauty, projecting from the south side of the tower, at the western end of the church. The groining of the ceiling of this porch, it has been pointed out, takes an almost unique form; the ribs are carved in bold relief, and the bosses at the intersections represent angels' heads, shields, roses, &c., in great variety.
Coming now to the interior of the church, we find it divided into three aisles, by two ranges of Tuscan columns. The aisles are of unequal widths, that in the centre being the widest, that to the south the narrowest. Semi-circular arches connect the columns on either side, springing directly from their capitals, without the interposition of an entablature, and support a large dental cornice, extending round the church. The ceiling of the middle aisle is divided into seven compartments, by horizontal bands, the middle compartment being formed into a small dome.
The aisles have groined ceilings, ornamented at the angles with doves, &c., and beneath every division of the groining are small windows, to admit light to the galleries. Over each of the aisles there is a gallery, very clumsily introduced, which dates from the time when the church was built by Wren, and extends the whole length, excepting at the chancel. The front of the gallery, which is of oak, is described by Mr. Godwin as carved into scrolls, branches, &c., in the centre panel, on either side, with the initials "C. R.," enriched with carvings of laurel, which have, however, he says, "but little merit."
At the east end of the church there are three semicircular-headed windows. Beneath the centre one is a large Corinthian altar-piece of oak, displaying columns, entablatures, &c., elaborately carved and gilded.
The length of the church, exclusive of the ambulatory, is said to be 126 feet, the breadth 68 feet, and the height of the tower 140 feet.
A singularly ugly sounding-board, extending over the preacher, used to stand at the back of the pulpit, at the east end of the church. It was in the shape of a large parabolic reflector, about twelve feet in diameter, and was composed of ribs of mahogany.
At the west end of the church there is a large organ, said to be the oldest and one of the finest in London. It was built in 1677, and has been greatly enlarged. Its reed-stops (hautboy, clarinet, &c.) are supposed to be unrivalled. In Newcourt's time the church was taken notice of as "remarkable for possessing an exceedingly fine organ, and the playing is thought so beautiful, that large congregations are attracted, though some of the parishioners object to the mode of performing divine service."
On the north side of the church, Mr. Godwin mentions, is a large apartment known as "St. Stephen's Chapel." This building evidently formed a somewhat important part of the old church, and was probably appropriated to the votaries of the saint whose name it bears.
Between the exterior and the interior of the church there is little harmony. "For example," says Mr. Godwin, "the columns which form the south aisle face, in some instances, the centre of the large windows which occur in the external wall of the church, and in others the centre of the piers, indifferently." This discordance may likely enough have arisen from the fact that when the church was rebuilt, or rather restored, after the Great Fire, the works were done without much attention from Sir Christopher Wren.
St. Sepulchre's appears to have enjoyed considerable popularity from the earliest period of its history, if one is to judge from the various sums left by well-disposed persons for the support of certain fraternities founded in the church—namely, those of St. Katherine, St. Michael, St. Anne, and Our Lady—and by others, for the maintenance of chantry priests to celebrate masses at stated intervals for the good of their souls. One of the fraternities just named—that of St. Katherine— originated, according to Stow, in the devotion of some poor persons in the parish, and was in honour of the conception of the Virgin Mary. They met in the church on the day of the Conception, and there had the mass of the day, and offered to the same, and provided a certain chaplain daily to celebrate divine service, and to set up wax lights before the image belonging to the fraternity, on all festival days.
The most famous of all who have been interred in St. Sepulchre's is Roger Ascham, the author of the "Schoolmaster," and the instructor of Queen Elizabeth in Greek and Latin. This learned old worthy was born in 1515, near Northallerton, in Yorkshire. He was educated at Cambridge University, and in time rose to be the university orator, being notably zealous in promoting what was then a novelty in England—the study of the Greek language. To divert himself after the fatigue of severe study, he used to devote himself to archery. This drew down upon him the censure of the all-work-and-no-play school; and in defence of himself, Ascham, in 1545, published "Toxophilus," a treatise on his favourite sport. This book is even yet well worthy of perusal, for its enthusiasm, and for its curious descriptions of the personal appearance and manners of the principal persons whom the author had seen and conversed with. Henry VIII. rewarded him with a pension of £10 per annum, a considerable sum in those days. In 1548, Ascham, on the death of William Grindall, who had been his pupil, was appointed instructor in the learned languages to Lady Elizabeth, afterwards the good Queen Bess. At the end of two years he had some dispute with, or took a disgust at, Lady Elizabeth's attendants, resigned his situation, and returned to his college. Soon after this he was employed as secretary to the English ambassador at the court of Charles V. of Germany, and remained abroad till the death of Edward VI. During his absence he had been appointed Latin secretary to King Edward. Strangely enough, though Queen Mary and her ministers were Papists, and Ascham a Protestant, he was retained in his office of Latin secretary, his pension was increased to £20, and he was allowed to retain his fellowship and his situation as university orator. In 1554 he married a lady of good family, by whom he had a considerable fortune, and of whom, in writing to a friend, he gives, as might perhaps be expected, an excellent character. On the accession of Queen Elizabeth, in 1558, she not only required his services as Latin secretary, but as her instructor in Greek, and he resided at Court during the remainder of his life. He died in consequence of his endeavours to complete a Latin poem which he intended to present to the queen on the New Year's Day of 1569. He breathed his last two days before 1568 ran out, and was interred, according to his own directions, in the most private manner, in St. Sepulchre's Church, his funeral sermon being preached by Dr. Andrew Nowell, Dean of St. Paul's. He was universally lamented; and even the queen herself not only showed great concern, but was pleased to say that she would rather have lost ten thousand pounds than her tutor Ascham, which, from that somewhat closehanded sovereign, was truly an expression of high regard.
Ascham, like most men, had his little weaknesses. He had too great a propensity to dice and cock-fighting. Bishop Nicholson would try to convince us that this is an unfounded calumny, but, as it is mentioned by Camden, and other contemporary writers, it seems impossible to deny it. He died, from all accounts, in indifferent circumstances. "Whether," says Dr. Johnson, referring to this, "Ascham was poor by his own fault, or the fault of others, cannot now be decided; but it is certain that many have been rich with less merit. His philological learning would have gained him honour in any country; and among us it may justly call for that reverence which all nations owe to those who first rouse them from ignorance, and kindle among them the light of literature." His most valuable work, "The Schoolmaster," was published by his widow. The nature of this celebrated performance may be gathered from the title: "The Schoolmaster; or a plain and perfite way of teaching children to understand, write, and speak the Latin tongue. … And commodious also for all such as have forgot the Latin tongue, and would by themselves, without a schoolmaster, in short time, and with small pains, recover a sufficient habilitie to understand, write, and speak Latin: by Roger Ascham, ann. 1570. At London, printed by John Daye, dwelling over Aldersgate," a printer, by the way, already mentioned by us a few chapters back (see page 208), as having printed several noted works of the sixteenth century.
Dr. Johnson remarks that the instruction recommended in "The Schoolmaster" is perhaps the best ever given for the study of languages.
Here also lies buried Captain John Smith, a conspicuous soldier of fortune, whose romantic adventures and daring exploits have rarely been surpassed. He died on the 21st of June, 1631. This valiant captain was born at Willoughby, in the county of Lincoln, and helped by his doings to enliven the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. He had a share in the wars of Hungary in 1602, and in three single combats overcame three Turks, and cut off their heads. For this, and other equally brave deeds, Sigismund, Duke of Transylvania, gave him his picture set in gold, with a pension of three hundred ducats; and allowed him to bear three Turks' heads proper as his shield of arms. He afterwards went to America, where he had the misfortune to fall into the hands of the Indians. He escaped from them, however, at last, and resumed his brilliant career by hazarding his life in naval engagements with pirates and Spanish men-of-war. The most important act of his life was the share he had in civilising the natives of New England, and reducing that province to obedience to Great Britain. In connection with his tomb in St. Sepulchre's, he is mentioned by Stow, in his "Survey," as "some time Governor of Virginia and Admiral of New England."
Certainly the most interesting events of his chequered career were his capture by the Indians, and the saving of his life by the Indian girl Pocahontas, a story of adventure that charms as often as it is told. Bancroft, the historian of the United States, relates how, during the early settlement of Virginia, Smith left the infant colony on an exploring expedition, and not only ascended the river Chickahominy, but struck into the interior. His companions disobeyed his instructions, and being surprised by the Indians, were put to death. Smith preserved his own life by calmness and self-possession. Displaying a pocket-compass, he amused the savages by an explanation of its power, and increased their admiration of his superior genius by imparting to them some vague conceptions of the form of the earth, and the nature of the planetary system. To the Indians, who retained him as their prisoner, his captivity was a more strange event than anything of which the traditions of their tribes preserved the memory. He was allowed to send a letter to the fort at Jamestown, and the savage wonder was increased, for he seemed by some magic to endow the paper with the gift of intelligence. It was evident that their captive was a being of a high order, and then the question arose, Was his nature beneficent, or was he to be dreaded as a dangerous enemy? Their minds were bewildered, and the decision of his fate was referred to the chief Powhatan, and before Powhatan Smith was brought. "The fears of the feeble aborigines," says Bancroft, "were about to prevail, and his immediate death, already repeatedly threatened and repeatedly delayed, would have been inevitable, but for the timely intercession of Pocahontas, a girl twelve years old, the daughter of Powhatan, whose confiding fondness Smith had easily won, and who firmly clung to his neck, as his head was bowed down to receive the stroke of the tomahawks. His fearlessness, and her entreaties, persuaded the council to spare the agreeable stranger, who could make hatchets for her father, and rattles and strings of beads for herself, the favourite child. The barbarians, whose decision had long been held in suspense by the mysterious awe which Smith had inspired, now resolved to receive him as a friend, and to make him a partner of their councils. They tempted him to join their bands, and lend assistance in an attack upon the white men at Jamestown; and when his decision of character succeeded in changing the current of their thoughts, they dismissed him with mutual promises of friendship and benevolence. Thus the captivity of Smith did itself become a benefit to the colony; for he had not only observed with care the country between the James and the Potomac, and had gained some knowledge of the language and manners of the natives, but he now established a peaceful intercourse between the English and the tribes of Powhatan."
On the monument erected to Smith in St. Sepulchre's Church, the following quaint lines were formerly inscribed:—
"Here lies one conquered that hath conquered kings,
Subdued large territories, and done things
Which to the world impossible would seem,
But that the truth is held in more esteem.
Shall I report his former service done,
In honour of his God, and Christendom?
How that he did divide, from pagans three,
Their heads and lives, types of his chivalry?—
For which great service, in that climate done,
Brave Sigismundus, King of Hungarion,
Did give him, as a coat of arms, to wear
These conquered heads, got by his sword and spear.
Or shall I tell of his adventures since
Done in Virginia, that large continent?
How that he subdued kings unto his yoke,
And made those heathens flee, as wind doth smoke;
And made their land, being so large a station,
An habitation for our Christian nation,
Where God is glorified, their wants supplied;
Which else for necessaries, must have died.
But what avails his conquests, now he lies
Interred in earth, a prey to worms and flies?
Oh! may his soul in sweet Elysium sleep,
Until the Keeper, that all souls doth keep,
Return to judgment; and that after thence
With angels he may have his recompense."
Sir Robert Peake, the engraver, also found a last resting-place here. He is known as the master of William Faithorne—the famous English engraver of the seventeenth century—and governor of Basing House for the king during the Civil War under Charles I. He died in 1667. Here also was interred the body of Dr. Bell, grandfather of the originator of a well-known system of education.
"The churchyard of St. Sepulchre's," we learn from Maitland, "at one time extended so far into the street on the south side of the church, as to render the passage-way dangerously narrow. In 1760 the churchyard was, in consequence, levelled, and thrown open to the public. But this led to much inconvenience, and it was re-enclosed in 1802."
Sarah Malcolm, the murderess, was buried in the churchyard of St. Sepulchre's in 1733. This coldhearted and keen-eyed monster in human form has had her story told by us already. The parishioners seem, on this occasion, to have had no such scruples as had been exhibited by their predecessors a hundred and fifty years previous at the burial of Awfield, a traitor. We shall see presently that in those more remote days they were desirous of having at least respectable company for their deceased relatives and friends in the churchyard.
"For a long period," says Mr. Godwin (1838), "the church was surrounded by low mean buildings, by which its general appearance was hidden; but these having been cleared away, and the neighbourhood made considerably more open, St. Sepulchre's now forms a somewhat pleasing object, notwithstanding that the tower and a part of the porch are so entirely dissimilar in style to the remainder of the building." And since Godwin's writing the surroundings of the church have been so improved that perhaps few buildings in the metropolis stand more prominently before the public eye.
In the glorious roll of martyrs who have suffered at the stake for their religious principles, a vicar of St. Sepulchre's, the Reverend John Rogers, occupies a conspicuous place. He was the first who was burned in the reign of the Bloody Mary. This eminent person had at one time been chaplain to the English merchants at Antwerp, and while residing in that city had aided Tindal and Coverdale in their great work of translating the Bible. He married a German lady of good position, by whom he had a large family, and was enabled, by means of her relations, to reside in peace and safety in Germany. It appeared to be his duty, however, to return to England, and there publicly profess and advocate his religious convictions, even at the risk of death. He crossed the sea; he took his place in the pulpit at St. Paul's Cross; he preached a fearless and animated sermon, reminding his astonished audience of the pure and wholesome doctrine which had been promulgated from that pulpit in the days of the good King Edward, and solemnly warning them against the pestilent idolatry and superstition of these new times. It was his last sermon. He was apprehended, tried, condemned, and burned at Smithfield. We described, when speaking of Smithfield, the manner in which he met his fate.
Connected with the martyrdom of Rogers an odd circumstance is quoted in the "Churches of London." It is stated that when the bishops had resolved to put to death Joan Bocher, a friend came to Rogers and earnestly entreated his influence that the poor woman's life might be spared, and other means taken to prevent the spread of her heterodox doctrines. Rogers, however, contended that she should be executed; and his friend then begged him to choose some other kind of death, which should be more agreeable to the gentleness and mercy prescribed in the gospel. "No," replied Rogers, "burning alive is not a cruel death, but easy enough." His friend hearing these words, expressive of so little regard for the sufferings of a fellow-creature, answered him with great vehemence, at the same time striking Rogers' hand, "Well, it may perhaps so happen that you yourself shall have your hands full of this mild burning." There is no record of Rogers among the papers belonging to St. Sepulchre's, but this may easily be accounted for by the fact that at the Great Fire of 1666 nearly all the registers and archives were destroyed.
A noteworthy incident in the history of St. Sepulchre's was connected with the execution, in 1585, of Awfield, for "sparcinge abrood certen lewed, sedicious, and traytorous bookes." "When he was executed," says Fleetwood, the Recorder, in a letter to Lord Burleigh, July 7th of that year, "his body was brought unto St. Pulcher's to be buryed, but the parishioners would not suffer a traytor's corpse to be laid in the earth where their parents, wives, children, kindred, masters, and old neighbours did rest; and so his carcass was returned to the burial-ground near Tyburn, and there I leave it."
Another event in the history of the church is a tale of suicide. On the 10th of April, 1600, a man named William Dorrington threw himself from the roof of the tower, leaving there a prayer for forgiveness.
We come now to speak of the connection of St. Sepulchre's with the neighbouring prison of Newgate. Being the nearest church to the prison, that connection naturally was intimate. Its clock served to give the time to the hangman when there was an execution in the Old Bailey, and many a poor wretch's last moments must it have regulated.
On the right-hand side of the altar a board with a list of charitable donations and gifts used to contain the following item:—"1605. Mr. Robert Dowe gave, for ringing the greatest bell in this church on the day the condemned prisoners are executed, and for other services, for ever, concerning such condemned prisoners, for which services the sexton is paid £16s. 8d.—£50.
It was formerly the practice for the clerk or bellman of St. Sepulchre's to go under Newgate, on the night preceding the execution of a criminal, ring his bell, and repeat the following wholesome advice:—
"All you that in the condemned hold do lie,
Prepare you, for to-morrow you shall die;
Watch all, and pray, the hour is drawing near
That you before the Almighty must appear;
Examine well yourselves, in time repent,
That you may not to eternal flames be sent.
And when St. Sepulchre's bell to-morrow tolls,
The Lord above have mercy on your souls.
Past twelve o'clock!"
This practice is explained by a passage in Munday's edition of Stow, in which it is told that a Mr. John Dowe, citizen and merchant taylor of London, gave £50 to the parish church of St. Sepulchre's, under the following conditions:—After the several sessions of London, on the night before the execution of such as were condemned to death, the clerk of the church was to go in the night-time, and also early in the morning, to the window of the prison in which they were lying. He was there to ring "certain tolls with a hand-bell" appointed for the purpose, and was afterwards, in a most Christian manner, to put them in mind of their present condition and approaching end, and to exhort them to be prepared, as they ought to be, to die. When they were in the cart, and brought before the walls of the church, the clerk was to stand there ready with the same bell, and, after certain tolls, rehearse a prayer, desiring all the people there present to pray for the unfortunate criminals. The beadle, also, of Merchant Taylors' Hall was allowed an "honest stipend" to see that this ceremony was regularly performed.
The affecting admonition—"affectingly good," Pennant calls it—addressed to the prisoners in Newgate, on the night before execution, ran as follows:—
"You prisoners that are within,
Who, for wickedness and sin,
after many mercies shown you, are now appointed to die to-morrow in the forenoon; give ear and understand that, to-morrow morning, the greatest bell of St. Sepulchre's shall toll for you, in form and manner of a passing-bell, as used to be tolled for those that are at the point of death; to the end that all godly people, hearing that bell, and knowing it is for your going to your deaths, may be stirred up heartily to pray to God to bestow his grace and mercy upon you, whilst you live. I beseech you, for Jesus Christ's sake, to keep this night in watching and prayer, to the salvation of your own souls while there is yet time and place for mercy; as knowing to-morrow you must appear before the judgment-seat of your Creator, there to give an account of all things done in this life, and to suffer eternal torments for your sins committed against Him, unless, upon your hearty and unfeigned repentance, you find mercy through the merits, death, and passion of your only Mediator and Advocate, Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return to Him."
And the following was the admonition to condemned criminals, as they were passing by St. Sepulchre's Church wall to execution:—" All good people, pray heartily unto God for these poor sinners, who are now going to their death, for whom this great bell doth toll.
"You that are condemned to die, repent with lamentable tears; ask mercy of the Lord, for the salvation of your own souls, through the [merits, death, and passion of Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return unto Him.
"Lord have mercy upon you;
Christ have mercy upon you.
Lord have mercy upon you;
Christ have mercy upon you."
The charitable Mr. Dowe, who took such interest in the last moments of the occupants of the condemned cell, was buried in the church of St. Botolph, Aldgate.
Another curious custom observed at St. Sepulchre's was the presentation of a nosegay to every criminal on his way to execution at Tyburn. No doubt the practice had its origin in some kindly feeling for the poor unfortunates who were so soon to bid farewell to all the beauties of earth. One of the last who received a nosegay from the steps of St. Sepulchre's was "Sixteen-string Jack," alias John Rann, who was hanged, in 1774, for robbing the Rev. Dr. Bell of his watch and eighteen pence in money, in Gunnersbury Lane, on the road to Brentford. Sixteen-string Jack wore the flowers in his button-hole as he rode dolefully to the gallows. This was witnessed by John Thomas Smith, who thus describes the scene in his admirable anecdotebook, "Nollekens and his Times:"—" I remember well, when I was in my eighth year, Mr. Nollekens calling at my father's house, in Great Portland Street, and taking us to Oxford Street, to see the notorious Jack Rann, commonly called Sixteenstring Jack, go to Tyburn to be hanged. … The criminal was dressed in a pea-green coat, with an immense nosegay in the button-hole, which had been presented to him at St. Sepulchre's steps; and his nankeen small-clothes, we were told, were tied at each knee with sixteen strings. After he had passed, and Mr. Nollekens was leading me home by the hand, I recollect his stooping down to me and observing, in a low tone of voice, 'Tom, now, my little man, if my father-in-law, Mr. Justice Welch, had been high constable, we could have walked by the side of the cart all the way to Tyburn.'"
When criminals were conveyed from Newgate to Tyburn, the cart passed up Giltspur Street, and through Smithfield, to Cow Lane. Skinner Street had not then been built, and the Crooked Lane which turned down by St. Sepulchre's, as well as Ozier Lane, did not afford sufficient width to admit of the cavalcade passing by either of them, with convenience, to Holborn Hill, or "the Heavy Hill," as it used to be called. The procession seems at no time to have had much of the solemn element about it. "The heroes of the day were often," says a popular writer, "on good terms with the mob, and jokes were exchanged between the men who were going to be hanged and the men who deserved to be."
"On St. Paul's Day," says Mr. Timbs (1868), "service is performed in St. Sepulchre's, in accordance with the will of Mr. Paul Jervis, who, in 1717, devised certain land in trust that a sermon should be preached in the church upon every Paul's Day upon the excellence of the liturgy o the Church of England; the preacher to receive 40s. for such sermon. Various sums are also bequeathed to the curate, the clerk, the treasurer, and masters of the parochial schools. To the poor of the parish he bequeathed 20s. a-piece to ten of the poorest householders within that part of the parish of St. Sepulchre commonly called Smithfield quarter, £4 to the treasurer of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, and 6s. 8d. yearly to the clerk, who shall attend to receive the same. The residue of the yearly rents and profits is to be distributed unto and amongst such poor people of the parish of St. Sepulchre's, London, who shall attend the service and sermon. At the close of the service the vestry-clerk reads aloud an extract from the will, and then proceeds to the distribution of the money. In the evening the vicar, churchwardens, and common councilmen of the precinct dine together."
In 1749, a Mr. Drinkwater made a praiseworthy bequest. He left the parish of St. Sepulchre £500 to be lent in sums of £25 to industrious young tradesmen. No interest was to be charged, and the money was to be lent for four years.
Next to St. Sepulchre's, on Snow Hill, used to stand the famous old inn of the "Saracen's Head." It was only swept away within the last few years by the ruthless army of City improvers: a view of it in course of demolition was given on page 439. It was one of the oldest of the London inns which bore the "Saracen's Head" for a sign. One of Dick Tarlton's jests makes mention of the "Saracen's Head" without Newgate, and Stow, describing this neighbourhood, speaks particularly of "a fair large inn for receipt of travellers" that "hath to sign the 'Saracen's Head.'" The courtyard had, to the last, many of the characteristics of an old English inn; there were galleries all round leading to the bedrooms, and a spacious gateway through which the dusty mail-coaches used to rumble, the tired passengers creeping forth "thanking their stars in having escaped the highwaymen and the holes and sloughs of the road." Into that courtyard how many have come on their first arrival in London with hearts beating high with hope, some of whom have risen to be aldermen and sit in state as lord mayor, whilst others have gone the way of the idle apprentice and come to a sad end at Tyburn! It was at this inn that Nicholas Nickleby and his uncle waited upon the Yorkshire schoolmaster Squeers, of Dotheboys Hall. Mr. Dickens describes the tavern as it existed in the last days of mail-coaching, when it was a most important place for arrivals and departures in London:—
"Next to the jail, and by consequence near to Smithfield also, and the Compter and the bustle and noise of the City, and just on that particular part of Snow Hill where omnibus horses going eastwards seriously think of falling down on purpose, and where horses in hackney cabriolets going westwards not unfrequently fall by accident, is the coach-yard of the 'Saracen's Head' inn, its portals guarded by two Saracen's heads and shoulders, which it was once the pride and glory of the choice spirits of this metropolis to pull down at night, but which have for some time remained in undisturbed tranquillity, possibly because this species of humour is now confined to St. James's parish, where doorknockers are preferred as being more portable, and bell-wires esteemed as convenient tooth-picks. Whether this be the reason or not, there they are, frowning upon you from each side of the gateway; and the inn itself, garnished with another Saracen's head, frowns upon you from the top of the yard; while from the door of the hind-boot of all the red coaches that are standing therein, there glares a small Saracen's head with a twin expression to the large Saracen's head below, so that the general appearance of the pile is of the Saracenic order."
To explain the use of the Saracen's head as an inn sign various reasons have been given. "When our countrymen," says Selden, "came home from fighting with the Saracens and were beaten by them, they pictured them with huge, big, terrible faces (as you still see the 'Saracen's Head' is), when in truth they were like other men. But this they did to save their own credit." Or the sign may have been adopted by those who had visited the Holy Land either as pilgrims or to fight the Saracens. Others, again, hold that it was first set up in compliment to the mother of Thomas à Becket, who was the daughter of a Saracen. However this may be, it is certain that the use of the sign in former days was very general.
Running past the east end of St. Sepulchre's, from Newgate into West Smithfield, is Giltspur Street, anciently called Knightriders Street. This interesting thoroughfare derives its name from the knights with their gilt spurs having been accustomed to ride this way to the jousts and tournaments which in days of old were held in Smithfield.
In this street was Giltspur Street Compter, a debtors' prison and house of correction appertaining to the sheriffs of London and Middlesex. It stood over against St. Sepulchre's Church, and was removed hither from the east side of Wood Street, Cheapside, in 1791. At the time of its removal it was used as a place of imprisonment for debtors, but the yearly increasing demands upon the contracted space caused that department to be given up, and City debtors were sent to Whitecross Street. The architect was Dance, to whom we are also indebted for the grim pile of Newgate. The Compter was a dirty and appropriately convictlooking edifice. It was pulled down in 1855. Mr. Hepworth Dixon gave an interesting account of this City House of Correction, not long before its demolition, in his "London Prisons" (1850). "Entering," he says, "at the door facing St. Sepulchre's, the visitor suddenly finds himself in a low dark passage, leading into the offices of the gaol, and branching off into other passages, darker, closer, more replete with noxious smells, than even those of Newgate. This is the fitting prelude to what follows. The prison, it must be noticed, is divided into two principal divisions, the House of Correction and the Compter. The front in Giltspur Street, and the side nearest to Newgate Street, is called the Compter. In its wards are placed detenues of various kinds—remands, committals from the police-courts, and generally persons waiting for trial, and consequently still unconvicted. The other department, the House of Correction, occupies the back portion of the premises, abutting on Christ's Hospital. Curious it is to consider how thin a wall divides these widely-separate worlds! And sorrowful it is to think what a difference of destiny awaits the children—destiny inexorable, though often unearned in either case—who, on the one side of it or the other, receive an eleemosynary education! The collegian and the criminal! Who shall say how much mere accident— circumstances over which the child has little power —determines to a life of usefulness or mischief? From the yards of Giltspur Street prison almost the only objects visible, outside of the gaol itself, are the towers of Christ's Hospital; the only sounds audible, the shouts of the scholars at their play. The balls of the hospital boys often fall within the yards of the prison. Whether these sights and sounds ever cause the criminal to pause and reflect upon the courses of his life, we will not say, but the stranger visiting the place will be very apt to think for him. …
"In the department of the prison called the House of Correction, minor offenders within the City of London are imprisoned. No transports are sent hither, nor is any person whose sentence is above three years in length." This able writer then goes on to tell of the many crying evils connected with the institution—the want of air, the over-crowded state of the rooms, the absence of proper cellular accommodation, and the vicious intercourse carried on amongst the prisoners. The entire gaol, when he wrote, only contained thirty-six separate sleeping-rooms. Now by the highest prison calculation—and this, be it noted, proceeds on the assumption that three persons can sleep in small, miserable, unventilated cells, which are built for only one, and are too confined for that, being only about one-half the size of the model cell for one at Pentonville—it was only capable of accommodating 203 prisoners, yet by the returns issued at Michaelmas, 1850, it contained 246!
A large section of the prison used to be devoted to female delinquents, but lately it was almost entirely given up to male offenders.
"The House of Correction, and the Compter portion of the establishment," says Mr. Dixon, "are kept quite distinct, but it would be difficult to award the palm of empire in their respective facilities for demoralisation. We think the Compter rather the worse of the two. You are shown into a room, about the size of an apartment in an ordinary dwelling-house, which will be found crowded with from thirty to forty persons, young and old, and in their ordinary costume; the low thief in his filth and rags, and the member of the swell-mob with his bright buttons, flash finery, and false jewels. Here you notice the boy who has just been guilty of his first offence, and committed for trial, learning with a greedy mind a thousand criminal arts, and listening with the precocious instinct of guilty passions to stories and conversations the most depraved and disgusting. You regard him with a mixture of pity and loathing, for he knows that the eyes of his peers are upon him, and he stares at you with a familiar impudence, and exhibits a devil-may-care countenance, such as is only to be met with in the juvenile offender. Here, too, may be seen the young clerk, taken up on suspicion—perhaps innocent—who avoids you with a shy look of pain and uneasiness: what a hell must this prison be to him! How frightful it is to think of a person really untainted with crime, compelled to herd for ten or twenty days with these abandoned wretches!
"On the other, the House of Correction side of the gaol, similar rooms will be found, full of prisoners communicating with each other, laughing and shouting without hindrance. All this is so little in accordance with existing notions of prison discipline, that one is continually fancying these disgraceful scenes cannot be in the capital of England, and in the year of grace 1850. Very few of the prisoners attend school or receive any instruction; neither is any kind of employment afforded them, except oakum-picking, and the still more disgusting labour of the treadmill. When at work, an officer is in attendance to prevent disorderly conduct; but his presence is of no avail as a protection to the less depraved. Conversation still goes on; and every facility is afforded for making acquaintances, and for mutual contamination."
After having long been branded by intelligent inspectors as a disgrace to the metropolis, Giltspur Street Compter was condemned, closed in 1854, and subsequently taken down.
Nearly opposite what used to be the site of the Compter, and adjoining Cock Lane, is the spot called Pie Corner, near which terminated the Great Fire of 1666. The fire commenced at Pudding Lane, it will be remembered, so it was singularly appropriate that it should terminate at Pie Corner. Under the date of 4th September, 1666, Pepys, in his "Diary," records that "W. Hewer this day went to see how his mother did, and comes home late, telling us how he hath been forced to remove her to Islington, her house in Pye Corner being burned; so that the fire is got so far that way." The figure of a fat naked boy stands over a public house at the corner of the lane; it used to have the following warning inscription attached:— "This boy is in memory put up of the late fire of London, occasioned by the sin of gluttony, 1666." According to Stow, Pie Corner derived its name from the sign of a well-frequented hostelry, which anciently stood on the spot. Strype makes honourable mention of Pie Corner, as "noted chiefly for cooks' shops and pigs dressed there during Bartholomew Fair." Our old writers have many references—and not all, by the way, in the best taste—to its cookstalls and dressed pork. Shadwell, for instance, in the Woman Captain (1680) speaks of "meat dressed at Pie Corner by greasy scullions;" and Ben Jonson writes in the Alchemist (1612)—
"I shall put you in mind, sir, at Pie Corner,
Taking your meal of steam in from cooks' stalls."
And in "The Great Boobee" ("Roxburgh Ballads"):
"Next day I through Pie Corner passed;
The roast meat on the stall
Invited me to take a taste;
My money was but small."
But Pie Corner seems to have been noted for more than eatables. A ballad from Tom D'Urfey's "Pills to Purge Melancholy," describing Bartholomew Fair, eleven years before the Fire of London, says:—
"At Pie-Corner end, mark well my good friend,
'Tis a very fine dirty place;
Where there's more arrows and bows. …
Than was handled at Chivy Chase."
We have already given a view of Pie Corner in our chapter on Smithfield, page 361.
Hosier Lane, running from Cow Lane to Smithfield, and almost parallel to Cock Lane, is described by "R. B.," in Strype, as a place not over-well built or inhabited. The houses were all old timber erections. Some of these—those standing at the south corner of the lane—were in the beginning of this century depicted by Mr. J. T. Smith, in his "Ancient Topography of London." He describes them as probably of the reign of James I. The rooms were small, with low, unornamented ceilings; the timber, oak, profusely used; the gables were plain, and the walls lath and plaster. They were taken down in 1809.
In the corner house, in Mr. Smith's time, there was a barber whose name was Catchpole; at least, so it was written over the door. He was rather an odd fellow, and possessed, according to his own account, a famous relic of antiquity. He would gravely show his customers a short-bladed instrument, as the identical dagger with which Walworth killed Wat Tyler.
Hosier Lane, like Pie Corner, used to be a great resort during the time of Bartholomew Fair, "all the houses," it is said in Strype, "generally being made public for tippling."
We return now from our excursion to the north of St. Sepulchre's, and continue our rambles to the west, and before speaking of what is, let us refer to what has been.
Turnagain Lane is not far from this. "Near unto this Seacoal Lane," remarks Stow, "in the turning towards Holborn Conduit, is Turnagain Lane, or rather, as in a record of the 5th of Edward III., Windagain Lane, for that it goeth down west to Fleet Dyke, from whence men must turn again the same way they came, but there it stopped." There used to be a proverb, "He must take him a house in Turnagain Lane."
A conduit formerly stood on Snow Hill, a little below the church. It is described as a building with four equal sides, ornamented with four columns and pediment, surmounted by a pyramid, on which stood a lamb—a rebus on the name of Lamb, from whose conduit in Red Lion Street the water came. There had been a conduit there, however, before Lamb's day, which was towards the close of the sixteenth century.
At No. 37, King Street, Snow Hill, there used to be a ladies' charity school, which was established in 1702, and remained in the parish 145 years. Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale were subscribers to this school, and Johnson drew from it his story of Betty Broom, in "The Idler." The world of domestic service, in Betty's days, seems to have been pretty much as now. Betty was a poor girl, bred in the country at a charity-school, maintained by the contributions of wealthy neighbours. The patronesses visited the school from time to time, to see how the pupils got on, and everything went well, till "at last, the chief of the subscribers having passed a winter in London, came down full of an opinion new and strange to the whole country. She held it little less than criminal to teach poor girls to read and write. They who are born to poverty, she said, are born to ignorance, and will work the harder the less they know. She told her friends that London was in confusion by the insolence of servants; that scarcely a girl could be got for all-work, since education had made such numbers of fine ladies, that nobody would now accept a lower title than that of a waiting-maid, or something that might qualify her to wear laced shoes and long ruffles, and to sit at work in the parlour window. But she was resolved, for her part, to spoil no more girls. Those who were to live by their hands should neither read nor write out of her pocket. The world was bad enough already, and she would have no part in making it worse.
"She was for a long time warmly opposed; but she persevered in her notions, and withdrew her subscription. Few listen, without a desire of conviction, to those who advise them to spare their money. Her example and her arguments gained ground daily; and in less than a year the whole parish was convinced that the nation would be ruined if the children of the poor were taught to read and write." So the school was dissolved, and Betty with the rest was turned adrift into the wide and cold world; and her adventures there any one may read in "The Idler" for himself.
There is an entry in the school minutes of 1763, to the effect that the ladies of the committee censured the schoolmistress for listening to the story of the Cock Lane ghost, and "desired her to keep her belief in the article to herself."
Skinner Street—now one of the names of the past—which ran by the south side of St. Sepulchre's, and formed the connecting link between Newgate Street and Holborn, received its name from Alderman Skinner, through whose exertions, about 1802, it was principally built. The following account of Skinner Street is from the picturesque pen of Mr. William Harvey ("Aleph"), whose long familiarity with the places he describes renders doubly valuable his many contributions to the history of London scenes and people:—"As a building speculation," he says, writing in 1863, "it was a failure. When the buildings were ready for occupation, tall and substantial as they really were, the high rents frightened intending shopkeepers. Tenants were not to be had; and in order to get over the money difficulty, a lottery, sanctioned by Parliament, was commenced. Lotteries were then common tricks of finance, and nobody wondered at the new venture; but even the most desperate fortune-hunters were slow to invest their capital, and the tickets hung sadly on hand. The day for the drawing was postponed several times, and when it came, there was little or no excitement on the subject, and whoever rejoiced in becoming a house-owner on such easy terms, the original projectors and builders were understood to have suffered considerably. The winners found the property in a very unfinished condition. Few of the dwellings were habitable, and as funds were often wanting, a majority of the houses remained empty, and the shops unopened. After two or three years things began to improve; the vast many-storeyed house which then covered the site of Commercial Place was converted into a warehousing depôt; a capital house opposite the 'Saracen's Head' was taken by a hosier of the name of Theobald, who, opening his shop with the determination of selling the best hosiery, and nothing else, was able to convince the citizens that his hose was first-rate, and, desiring only a living profit, succeeded, after thirty years of unwearied industry, in accumulating a large fortune. Theobald was possessed of literary tastes, and at the sale of Sir Walter Scott's manuscripts was a liberal purchaser. He also collected a library of exceedingly choice books, and when aristocratic customers purchased stockings of him, was soon able to interest them in matters of far higher interest…
"The most remarkable shop—but it was on the left-hand side, at a corner house—was that established for the sale of children's books. It boasted an immense extent of window-front, extending from the entrance into Snow Hill, and towards Fleet Market. Many a time have I lingered with loving eyes over those fascinating story-books, so rich in gaily-coloured prints; such careful editions of the marvellous old histories, 'Puss in Boots,' 'Cock Robin,' 'Cinderella,' and the like. Fortunately the front was kept low, so as exactly to suit the capacity of a childish admirer. . . . . But Skinner Street did not prosper much, and never could compete with even the dullest portions of Holborn. I have spoken of some reputable shops; but you know the proverb, 'One swallow will not make a summer,' and it was a declining neighbourhood almost before it could be called new. In 1810 the commercial depôt, which had been erected at a cost of £25,000, and was the chief prize in the lottery, was destroyed by fire, never to be rebuilt—a heavy blow and discouragement to Skinner Street, from which it never rallied. Perhaps the periodical hanging-days exercised an unfavourable influence, collecting, as they frequently did, all the thieves and vagabonds of London. I never sympathised with Pepys or Charles Fox in their passion for public executions, and made it a point to avoid those ghastly sights; but early of a Monday morning, when I had just reached the end of Giltspur Street, a miserable wretch had just been turned off from the platform of the debtors' door, and I was made the unwilling witness of his last struggles. That scene haunted me for months, and I often used to ask myself, 'Who that could help it would live in Skinner Street?' The next unpropitious event in these parts was the unexpected closing of the child's library. What could it mean? Such a well-to-do establishment shut up? Yes, the whole army of shutters looked blankly on the inquirer, and forbade even a single glance at 'Sinbad' or 'Robinson Crusoe.' It would soon be re-opened, we naturally thought; but the shutters never came down again. The whole house was deserted; not even a messenger in bankruptcy, or an ancient Charley, was found to regard the playful double knocks of the neighbouring juveniles. Gradually the glass of all the windows got broken in, a heavy cloud of black dust, solidifying into inches thick, gathered on sills and doors and brickwork, till the whole frontage grew as gloomy as Giant Despair's Castle. Not long after, the adjoining houses shared the same fate, and they remained from year to year without the slightest sign of life—absolute scarecrows, darkening with their uncomfortable shadows the busy streets. Within half a mile, in Stamford Street, Blackfriars, there are (1863) seven houses in a similar predicament— window-glass demolished, doors cracked from top to bottom, spiders' webs hanging from every projecting sill or parapet. What can it mean? The loss in the article of rents alone must be over £1,000 annually. If the real owners are at feud with imaginary owners, surely the property might be rendered valuable, and the proceeds invested. Even the lawyers can derive no profit from such hopeless abandonment. I am told the whole mischief arose out of a Chancery suit. Can it be the famous 'Jarndyce v. Jarndyce' case? And have all the heirs starved each other out? If so, what hinders our lady the Queen from taking possession? Any change would be an improvement, for these dead houses make the streets they cumber as dispiriting and comfortless as graveyards. Busy fancy will sometimes people them, and fill the dreary rooms with strange guests. Do the victims of guilt congregate in these dark dens? Do wretches 'unfriended by the world or the world's law,' seek refuge in these deserted nooks, mourning in the silence of despair over their former lives, and anticipating the future in unappeasable agony? Such things have been—the silence and desolation of these doomed dwellings make them the more suitable for such tenants."
A street is nothing without a mystery, so a mystery let these old tumble-down houses remain, whilst we go on to tell that, in front of No. 58, the sailor Cashman was hung in 1817, as we have already mentioned, for plundering a gunsmith's shop there. William Godwin, the author of "Caleb Williams," kept a bookseller's shop for several years in Skinner Street, at No. 41, and published school-books in the name of Edward Baldwin. On the wall there was a stone carving of Æsop reciting one of his fables to children.
The most noteworthy event of the life of Godwin was his marriage with the celebrated Mary Wollstonecraft, authoress of a "Vindication of the Rights of Women," whose congenial mind, in politics and morals, he ardently admired. Godwin's account of the way in which they got on together is worth reading:—"Ours," he writes, "was not an idle happiness, a paradise of selfish and transitory pleasures. It is, perhaps, scarcely necessary to mention, that influenced by ideas I had long entertained, I engaged an apartment about twenty doors from our house, in the Polygon, Somers Town, which I designed for the purpose of my study and literary occupations. Trifles, however, will be interesting to some readers, when they relate to the last period of the life of such a person as Mary. I will add, therefore, that we were both of us of opinion, that it was possible for two persons to be too uniformly in each other's society. Influenced by that opinion, it was my practice to repair to the apartment I have mentioned as soon as I rose, and frequently not to make my appearance in the Polygon till the hour of dinner. We agreed in condemning the notion, prevalent in many situations in life, that a man and his wife cannot visit in mixed society but in company with each other, and we rather sought occasions of deviating from than of complying with this rule. By this means, though, for the most part, we spent the latter half of each day in one another's society, yet we were in no danger of satiety. We seemed to combine, in a considerable degree, the novelty and lively sensation of a visit with the more delicious and heartfelt pleasure of a domestic life."
This philosophic union, to Godwin's inexpressible affliction, did not last more than eighteen months, at the end of which time Mrs. Godwin died, leaving an only daughter, who in the course of time became the second wife of the poet Shelley, and was the author of the wild and extraordinary tale of "Frankenstein."
With the rain falling harder, it was a bit of a route march to Holborn and my next church, the stunning St Sepulchre, which was also open.
-----------------------------------------------------
St Sepulchre-without-Newgate, also known as the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (Holborn), is an Anglican church in the City of London. It is located on Holborn Viaduct, almost opposite the Old Bailey. In medieval times it stood just outside ("without") the now-demolished old city wall, near the Newgate. It has been a living of St John's College, Oxford, since 1622.
The original Saxon church on the site was dedicated to St Edmund the King and Martyr. During the Crusades in the 12th century the church was renamed St Edmund and the Holy Sepulchre, in reference to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. The name eventually became contracted to St Sepulchre.
The church is today the largest parish church in the City. It was completely rebuilt in the 15th century but was gutted by the Great Fire of London in 1666,[1] which left only the outer walls, the tower and the porch standing[2] -. Modified in the 18th century, the church underwent extensive restoration in 1878. It narrowly avoided destruction in the Second World War, although the 18th-century watch-house in its churchyard (erected to deter grave-robbers) was completely destroyed and had to be rebuilt.
The interior of the church is a wide, roomy space with a coffered ceiling[3] installed in 1834. The Vicars' old residence has recently been renovated into a modern living quarter.
During the reign of Mary I in 1555, St Sepulchre's vicar, John Rogers, was burned as a heretic.
St Sepulchre is named in the nursery rhyme Oranges and Lemons as the "bells of Old Bailey". Traditionally, the great bell would be rung to mark the execution of a prisoner at the nearby gallows at Newgate. The clerk of St Sepulchre's was also responsible for ringing a handbell outside the condemned man's cell in Newgate Prison to inform him of his impending execution. This handbell, known as the Execution Bell, now resides in a glass case to the south of the nave.
The church has been the official musicians' church for many years and is associated with many famous musicians. Its north aisle (formerly a chapel dedicated to Stephen Harding) is dedicated as the Musicians' Chapel, with four windows commemorating John Ireland, the singer Dame Nellie Melba, Walter Carroll and the conductor Sir Henry Wood respectively.[4] Wood, who "at the age of fourteen, learned to play the organ" at this church [1] and later became its organist, also has his ashes buried in this church.
The south aisle of the church holds the regimental chapel of the Royal Fusiliers (City of London Regiment), and its gardens are a memorial garden to that regiment.[5] The west end of the north aisle has various memorials connected with the City of London Rifles (the 6th Battalion London Regiment). The church was designated a Grade I listed building on 4 January 1950.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Sepulchre-without-Newgate
The Early History of St. Sepulchre's—Its Destruction in 1666—The Exterior and Interior—The Early Popularity of the Church—Interments here—Roger Ascham, the Author of the "Schoolmaster"—Captain John Smith, and his Romantic Adventures—Saved by an Indian Girl— St. Sepulchre's Churchyard—Accommodation for a Murderess—The Martyr Rogers—An Odd Circumstance—Good Company for the Dead—A Leap from the Tower—A Warning Bell and a Last Admonition—Nosegays for the Condemned—The Route to the Gallows-tree— The Deeds of the Charitable—The "Saracen's Head"—Description by Dickens—Giltspur Street—Giltspur Street Compter—A Disreputable Condition—Pie Corner—Hosier Lane—A Spurious Relic—The Conduit on Snow Hill—A Ladies' Charity School—Turnagain Lane—Poor Betty!—A Schoolmistress Censured—Skinner Street—Unpropitious Fortune—William Godwin—An Original Married Life.
Many interesting associations—Principally, however, connected with the annals of crime and the execution of the laws of England—belong to the Church of St. Sepulchre, or St. 'Pulchre. This sacred edifice—anciently known as St. Sepulchre's in the Bailey, or by Chamberlain Gate (now Newgate)—stands at the eastern end of the slight acclivity of Snow Hill, and between Smithfield and the Old Bailey. The genuine materials for its early history are scanty enough. It was probably founded about the commencement of the twelfth century, but of the exact date and circumstances of its origin there is no record whatever. Its name is derived from the Holy Sepulchre of our Saviour at Jerusalem, to the memory of which it was first dedicated.
The earliest authentic notice of the church, according to Maitland, is of the year 1178, at which date it was given by Roger, Bishop of Sarum, to the Prior and Canons of St. Bartholomew. These held the right of advowson until the dissolution of monasteries by Henry VIII., and from that time until 1610 it remained in the hands of the Crown. James I., however, then granted "the rectory and its appurtenances, with the advowson of the vicarage," to Francis Phillips and others. The next stage in its history is that the rectory was purchased by the parishioners, to be held in fee-farm of the Crown, and the advowson was obtained by the President and Fellows of St. John the Baptist College, at Oxford.
The church was rebuilt about the middle of the fifteenth century, when one of the Popham family, who had been Chancellor of Normandy and Treasurer of the King's Household, with distinguished liberality erected a handsome chapel on the south side of the choir, and the very beautiful porch still remaining at the south-west corner of the building. "His image," Stow says, "fair graven in stone, was fixed over the said porch."
The dreadful fire of 1666 almost destroyed St. Sepulchre's, but the parishioners set energetically to work, and it was "rebuilt and beautified both within and without." The general reparation was under the direction of Sir Christopher Wren, and nothing but the walls of the old building, and these not entirely, were suffered to remain. The work was done rapidly, and the whole was completed within four years.
"The tower," says Mr. Godwin, "retained its original aspect, and the body of the church, after its restoration, presented a series of windows between buttresses, with pointed heads filled with tracery, crowned by a string-course and battlements. In this form it remained till the year 1790, when it appears the whole fabric was found to be in a state of great decay, and it was resolved to repair it throughout. Accordingly the walls of the church were cased with Portland stone, and all the windows were taken out and replaced by others with plain semi-circular heads, as now seen—certainly agreeing but badly with the tower and porch of the building, but according with the then prevailing spirit of economy. The battlements, too, were taken down, and a plain stone parapet was substituted, so that at this time (with the exception of the roof, which was wagon-headed, and presented on the outside an unsightly swell, visible above the parapet) the church assumed its present appearance." The ungainly roof was removed, and an entirely new one erected, about 1836.
At each corner of the tower—"one of the most ancient," says the author of "Londinium Redivivum," "in the outline of the circuit of London" —there are spires, and on the spires there are weathercocks. These have been made use of by Howell to point a moral: "Unreasonable people," says he, "are as hard to reconcile as the vanes of St. Sepulchre's tower, which never look all four upon one point of the heavens." Nothing can be said with certainty as to the date of the tower, but it is not without the bounds of probability that it formed part of the original building. The belfry is reached by a small winding staircase in the south-west angle, and a similar staircase in an opposite angle leads to the summit. The spires at the corners, and some of the tower windows, have very recently undergone several alterations, which have added much to the picturesqueness and beauty of the church.
The chief entrance to St. Sepulchre's is by a porch of singular beauty, projecting from the south side of the tower, at the western end of the church. The groining of the ceiling of this porch, it has been pointed out, takes an almost unique form; the ribs are carved in bold relief, and the bosses at the intersections represent angels' heads, shields, roses, &c., in great variety.
Coming now to the interior of the church, we find it divided into three aisles, by two ranges of Tuscan columns. The aisles are of unequal widths, that in the centre being the widest, that to the south the narrowest. Semi-circular arches connect the columns on either side, springing directly from their capitals, without the interposition of an entablature, and support a large dental cornice, extending round the church. The ceiling of the middle aisle is divided into seven compartments, by horizontal bands, the middle compartment being formed into a small dome.
The aisles have groined ceilings, ornamented at the angles with doves, &c., and beneath every division of the groining are small windows, to admit light to the galleries. Over each of the aisles there is a gallery, very clumsily introduced, which dates from the time when the church was built by Wren, and extends the whole length, excepting at the chancel. The front of the gallery, which is of oak, is described by Mr. Godwin as carved into scrolls, branches, &c., in the centre panel, on either side, with the initials "C. R.," enriched with carvings of laurel, which have, however, he says, "but little merit."
At the east end of the church there are three semicircular-headed windows. Beneath the centre one is a large Corinthian altar-piece of oak, displaying columns, entablatures, &c., elaborately carved and gilded.
The length of the church, exclusive of the ambulatory, is said to be 126 feet, the breadth 68 feet, and the height of the tower 140 feet.
A singularly ugly sounding-board, extending over the preacher, used to stand at the back of the pulpit, at the east end of the church. It was in the shape of a large parabolic reflector, about twelve feet in diameter, and was composed of ribs of mahogany.
At the west end of the church there is a large organ, said to be the oldest and one of the finest in London. It was built in 1677, and has been greatly enlarged. Its reed-stops (hautboy, clarinet, &c.) are supposed to be unrivalled. In Newcourt's time the church was taken notice of as "remarkable for possessing an exceedingly fine organ, and the playing is thought so beautiful, that large congregations are attracted, though some of the parishioners object to the mode of performing divine service."
On the north side of the church, Mr. Godwin mentions, is a large apartment known as "St. Stephen's Chapel." This building evidently formed a somewhat important part of the old church, and was probably appropriated to the votaries of the saint whose name it bears.
Between the exterior and the interior of the church there is little harmony. "For example," says Mr. Godwin, "the columns which form the south aisle face, in some instances, the centre of the large windows which occur in the external wall of the church, and in others the centre of the piers, indifferently." This discordance may likely enough have arisen from the fact that when the church was rebuilt, or rather restored, after the Great Fire, the works were done without much attention from Sir Christopher Wren.
St. Sepulchre's appears to have enjoyed considerable popularity from the earliest period of its history, if one is to judge from the various sums left by well-disposed persons for the support of certain fraternities founded in the church—namely, those of St. Katherine, St. Michael, St. Anne, and Our Lady—and by others, for the maintenance of chantry priests to celebrate masses at stated intervals for the good of their souls. One of the fraternities just named—that of St. Katherine— originated, according to Stow, in the devotion of some poor persons in the parish, and was in honour of the conception of the Virgin Mary. They met in the church on the day of the Conception, and there had the mass of the day, and offered to the same, and provided a certain chaplain daily to celebrate divine service, and to set up wax lights before the image belonging to the fraternity, on all festival days.
The most famous of all who have been interred in St. Sepulchre's is Roger Ascham, the author of the "Schoolmaster," and the instructor of Queen Elizabeth in Greek and Latin. This learned old worthy was born in 1515, near Northallerton, in Yorkshire. He was educated at Cambridge University, and in time rose to be the university orator, being notably zealous in promoting what was then a novelty in England—the study of the Greek language. To divert himself after the fatigue of severe study, he used to devote himself to archery. This drew down upon him the censure of the all-work-and-no-play school; and in defence of himself, Ascham, in 1545, published "Toxophilus," a treatise on his favourite sport. This book is even yet well worthy of perusal, for its enthusiasm, and for its curious descriptions of the personal appearance and manners of the principal persons whom the author had seen and conversed with. Henry VIII. rewarded him with a pension of £10 per annum, a considerable sum in those days. In 1548, Ascham, on the death of William Grindall, who had been his pupil, was appointed instructor in the learned languages to Lady Elizabeth, afterwards the good Queen Bess. At the end of two years he had some dispute with, or took a disgust at, Lady Elizabeth's attendants, resigned his situation, and returned to his college. Soon after this he was employed as secretary to the English ambassador at the court of Charles V. of Germany, and remained abroad till the death of Edward VI. During his absence he had been appointed Latin secretary to King Edward. Strangely enough, though Queen Mary and her ministers were Papists, and Ascham a Protestant, he was retained in his office of Latin secretary, his pension was increased to £20, and he was allowed to retain his fellowship and his situation as university orator. In 1554 he married a lady of good family, by whom he had a considerable fortune, and of whom, in writing to a friend, he gives, as might perhaps be expected, an excellent character. On the accession of Queen Elizabeth, in 1558, she not only required his services as Latin secretary, but as her instructor in Greek, and he resided at Court during the remainder of his life. He died in consequence of his endeavours to complete a Latin poem which he intended to present to the queen on the New Year's Day of 1569. He breathed his last two days before 1568 ran out, and was interred, according to his own directions, in the most private manner, in St. Sepulchre's Church, his funeral sermon being preached by Dr. Andrew Nowell, Dean of St. Paul's. He was universally lamented; and even the queen herself not only showed great concern, but was pleased to say that she would rather have lost ten thousand pounds than her tutor Ascham, which, from that somewhat closehanded sovereign, was truly an expression of high regard.
Ascham, like most men, had his little weaknesses. He had too great a propensity to dice and cock-fighting. Bishop Nicholson would try to convince us that this is an unfounded calumny, but, as it is mentioned by Camden, and other contemporary writers, it seems impossible to deny it. He died, from all accounts, in indifferent circumstances. "Whether," says Dr. Johnson, referring to this, "Ascham was poor by his own fault, or the fault of others, cannot now be decided; but it is certain that many have been rich with less merit. His philological learning would have gained him honour in any country; and among us it may justly call for that reverence which all nations owe to those who first rouse them from ignorance, and kindle among them the light of literature." His most valuable work, "The Schoolmaster," was published by his widow. The nature of this celebrated performance may be gathered from the title: "The Schoolmaster; or a plain and perfite way of teaching children to understand, write, and speak the Latin tongue. … And commodious also for all such as have forgot the Latin tongue, and would by themselves, without a schoolmaster, in short time, and with small pains, recover a sufficient habilitie to understand, write, and speak Latin: by Roger Ascham, ann. 1570. At London, printed by John Daye, dwelling over Aldersgate," a printer, by the way, already mentioned by us a few chapters back (see page 208), as having printed several noted works of the sixteenth century.
Dr. Johnson remarks that the instruction recommended in "The Schoolmaster" is perhaps the best ever given for the study of languages.
Here also lies buried Captain John Smith, a conspicuous soldier of fortune, whose romantic adventures and daring exploits have rarely been surpassed. He died on the 21st of June, 1631. This valiant captain was born at Willoughby, in the county of Lincoln, and helped by his doings to enliven the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. He had a share in the wars of Hungary in 1602, and in three single combats overcame three Turks, and cut off their heads. For this, and other equally brave deeds, Sigismund, Duke of Transylvania, gave him his picture set in gold, with a pension of three hundred ducats; and allowed him to bear three Turks' heads proper as his shield of arms. He afterwards went to America, where he had the misfortune to fall into the hands of the Indians. He escaped from them, however, at last, and resumed his brilliant career by hazarding his life in naval engagements with pirates and Spanish men-of-war. The most important act of his life was the share he had in civilising the natives of New England, and reducing that province to obedience to Great Britain. In connection with his tomb in St. Sepulchre's, he is mentioned by Stow, in his "Survey," as "some time Governor of Virginia and Admiral of New England."
Certainly the most interesting events of his chequered career were his capture by the Indians, and the saving of his life by the Indian girl Pocahontas, a story of adventure that charms as often as it is told. Bancroft, the historian of the United States, relates how, during the early settlement of Virginia, Smith left the infant colony on an exploring expedition, and not only ascended the river Chickahominy, but struck into the interior. His companions disobeyed his instructions, and being surprised by the Indians, were put to death. Smith preserved his own life by calmness and self-possession. Displaying a pocket-compass, he amused the savages by an explanation of its power, and increased their admiration of his superior genius by imparting to them some vague conceptions of the form of the earth, and the nature of the planetary system. To the Indians, who retained him as their prisoner, his captivity was a more strange event than anything of which the traditions of their tribes preserved the memory. He was allowed to send a letter to the fort at Jamestown, and the savage wonder was increased, for he seemed by some magic to endow the paper with the gift of intelligence. It was evident that their captive was a being of a high order, and then the question arose, Was his nature beneficent, or was he to be dreaded as a dangerous enemy? Their minds were bewildered, and the decision of his fate was referred to the chief Powhatan, and before Powhatan Smith was brought. "The fears of the feeble aborigines," says Bancroft, "were about to prevail, and his immediate death, already repeatedly threatened and repeatedly delayed, would have been inevitable, but for the timely intercession of Pocahontas, a girl twelve years old, the daughter of Powhatan, whose confiding fondness Smith had easily won, and who firmly clung to his neck, as his head was bowed down to receive the stroke of the tomahawks. His fearlessness, and her entreaties, persuaded the council to spare the agreeable stranger, who could make hatchets for her father, and rattles and strings of beads for herself, the favourite child. The barbarians, whose decision had long been held in suspense by the mysterious awe which Smith had inspired, now resolved to receive him as a friend, and to make him a partner of their councils. They tempted him to join their bands, and lend assistance in an attack upon the white men at Jamestown; and when his decision of character succeeded in changing the current of their thoughts, they dismissed him with mutual promises of friendship and benevolence. Thus the captivity of Smith did itself become a benefit to the colony; for he had not only observed with care the country between the James and the Potomac, and had gained some knowledge of the language and manners of the natives, but he now established a peaceful intercourse between the English and the tribes of Powhatan."
On the monument erected to Smith in St. Sepulchre's Church, the following quaint lines were formerly inscribed:—
"Here lies one conquered that hath conquered kings,
Subdued large territories, and done things
Which to the world impossible would seem,
But that the truth is held in more esteem.
Shall I report his former service done,
In honour of his God, and Christendom?
How that he did divide, from pagans three,
Their heads and lives, types of his chivalry?—
For which great service, in that climate done,
Brave Sigismundus, King of Hungarion,
Did give him, as a coat of arms, to wear
These conquered heads, got by his sword and spear.
Or shall I tell of his adventures since
Done in Virginia, that large continent?
How that he subdued kings unto his yoke,
And made those heathens flee, as wind doth smoke;
And made their land, being so large a station,
An habitation for our Christian nation,
Where God is glorified, their wants supplied;
Which else for necessaries, must have died.
But what avails his conquests, now he lies
Interred in earth, a prey to worms and flies?
Oh! may his soul in sweet Elysium sleep,
Until the Keeper, that all souls doth keep,
Return to judgment; and that after thence
With angels he may have his recompense."
Sir Robert Peake, the engraver, also found a last resting-place here. He is known as the master of William Faithorne—the famous English engraver of the seventeenth century—and governor of Basing House for the king during the Civil War under Charles I. He died in 1667. Here also was interred the body of Dr. Bell, grandfather of the originator of a well-known system of education.
"The churchyard of St. Sepulchre's," we learn from Maitland, "at one time extended so far into the street on the south side of the church, as to render the passage-way dangerously narrow. In 1760 the churchyard was, in consequence, levelled, and thrown open to the public. But this led to much inconvenience, and it was re-enclosed in 1802."
Sarah Malcolm, the murderess, was buried in the churchyard of St. Sepulchre's in 1733. This coldhearted and keen-eyed monster in human form has had her story told by us already. The parishioners seem, on this occasion, to have had no such scruples as had been exhibited by their predecessors a hundred and fifty years previous at the burial of Awfield, a traitor. We shall see presently that in those more remote days they were desirous of having at least respectable company for their deceased relatives and friends in the churchyard.
"For a long period," says Mr. Godwin (1838), "the church was surrounded by low mean buildings, by which its general appearance was hidden; but these having been cleared away, and the neighbourhood made considerably more open, St. Sepulchre's now forms a somewhat pleasing object, notwithstanding that the tower and a part of the porch are so entirely dissimilar in style to the remainder of the building." And since Godwin's writing the surroundings of the church have been so improved that perhaps few buildings in the metropolis stand more prominently before the public eye.
In the glorious roll of martyrs who have suffered at the stake for their religious principles, a vicar of St. Sepulchre's, the Reverend John Rogers, occupies a conspicuous place. He was the first who was burned in the reign of the Bloody Mary. This eminent person had at one time been chaplain to the English merchants at Antwerp, and while residing in that city had aided Tindal and Coverdale in their great work of translating the Bible. He married a German lady of good position, by whom he had a large family, and was enabled, by means of her relations, to reside in peace and safety in Germany. It appeared to be his duty, however, to return to England, and there publicly profess and advocate his religious convictions, even at the risk of death. He crossed the sea; he took his place in the pulpit at St. Paul's Cross; he preached a fearless and animated sermon, reminding his astonished audience of the pure and wholesome doctrine which had been promulgated from that pulpit in the days of the good King Edward, and solemnly warning them against the pestilent idolatry and superstition of these new times. It was his last sermon. He was apprehended, tried, condemned, and burned at Smithfield. We described, when speaking of Smithfield, the manner in which he met his fate.
Connected with the martyrdom of Rogers an odd circumstance is quoted in the "Churches of London." It is stated that when the bishops had resolved to put to death Joan Bocher, a friend came to Rogers and earnestly entreated his influence that the poor woman's life might be spared, and other means taken to prevent the spread of her heterodox doctrines. Rogers, however, contended that she should be executed; and his friend then begged him to choose some other kind of death, which should be more agreeable to the gentleness and mercy prescribed in the gospel. "No," replied Rogers, "burning alive is not a cruel death, but easy enough." His friend hearing these words, expressive of so little regard for the sufferings of a fellow-creature, answered him with great vehemence, at the same time striking Rogers' hand, "Well, it may perhaps so happen that you yourself shall have your hands full of this mild burning." There is no record of Rogers among the papers belonging to St. Sepulchre's, but this may easily be accounted for by the fact that at the Great Fire of 1666 nearly all the registers and archives were destroyed.
A noteworthy incident in the history of St. Sepulchre's was connected with the execution, in 1585, of Awfield, for "sparcinge abrood certen lewed, sedicious, and traytorous bookes." "When he was executed," says Fleetwood, the Recorder, in a letter to Lord Burleigh, July 7th of that year, "his body was brought unto St. Pulcher's to be buryed, but the parishioners would not suffer a traytor's corpse to be laid in the earth where their parents, wives, children, kindred, masters, and old neighbours did rest; and so his carcass was returned to the burial-ground near Tyburn, and there I leave it."
Another event in the history of the church is a tale of suicide. On the 10th of April, 1600, a man named William Dorrington threw himself from the roof of the tower, leaving there a prayer for forgiveness.
We come now to speak of the connection of St. Sepulchre's with the neighbouring prison of Newgate. Being the nearest church to the prison, that connection naturally was intimate. Its clock served to give the time to the hangman when there was an execution in the Old Bailey, and many a poor wretch's last moments must it have regulated.
On the right-hand side of the altar a board with a list of charitable donations and gifts used to contain the following item:—"1605. Mr. Robert Dowe gave, for ringing the greatest bell in this church on the day the condemned prisoners are executed, and for other services, for ever, concerning such condemned prisoners, for which services the sexton is paid £16s. 8d.—£50.
It was formerly the practice for the clerk or bellman of St. Sepulchre's to go under Newgate, on the night preceding the execution of a criminal, ring his bell, and repeat the following wholesome advice:—
"All you that in the condemned hold do lie,
Prepare you, for to-morrow you shall die;
Watch all, and pray, the hour is drawing near
That you before the Almighty must appear;
Examine well yourselves, in time repent,
That you may not to eternal flames be sent.
And when St. Sepulchre's bell to-morrow tolls,
The Lord above have mercy on your souls.
Past twelve o'clock!"
This practice is explained by a passage in Munday's edition of Stow, in which it is told that a Mr. John Dowe, citizen and merchant taylor of London, gave £50 to the parish church of St. Sepulchre's, under the following conditions:—After the several sessions of London, on the night before the execution of such as were condemned to death, the clerk of the church was to go in the night-time, and also early in the morning, to the window of the prison in which they were lying. He was there to ring "certain tolls with a hand-bell" appointed for the purpose, and was afterwards, in a most Christian manner, to put them in mind of their present condition and approaching end, and to exhort them to be prepared, as they ought to be, to die. When they were in the cart, and brought before the walls of the church, the clerk was to stand there ready with the same bell, and, after certain tolls, rehearse a prayer, desiring all the people there present to pray for the unfortunate criminals. The beadle, also, of Merchant Taylors' Hall was allowed an "honest stipend" to see that this ceremony was regularly performed.
The affecting admonition—"affectingly good," Pennant calls it—addressed to the prisoners in Newgate, on the night before execution, ran as follows:—
"You prisoners that are within,
Who, for wickedness and sin,
after many mercies shown you, are now appointed to die to-morrow in the forenoon; give ear and understand that, to-morrow morning, the greatest bell of St. Sepulchre's shall toll for you, in form and manner of a passing-bell, as used to be tolled for those that are at the point of death; to the end that all godly people, hearing that bell, and knowing it is for your going to your deaths, may be stirred up heartily to pray to God to bestow his grace and mercy upon you, whilst you live. I beseech you, for Jesus Christ's sake, to keep this night in watching and prayer, to the salvation of your own souls while there is yet time and place for mercy; as knowing to-morrow you must appear before the judgment-seat of your Creator, there to give an account of all things done in this life, and to suffer eternal torments for your sins committed against Him, unless, upon your hearty and unfeigned repentance, you find mercy through the merits, death, and passion of your only Mediator and Advocate, Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return to Him."
And the following was the admonition to condemned criminals, as they were passing by St. Sepulchre's Church wall to execution:—" All good people, pray heartily unto God for these poor sinners, who are now going to their death, for whom this great bell doth toll.
"You that are condemned to die, repent with lamentable tears; ask mercy of the Lord, for the salvation of your own souls, through the [merits, death, and passion of Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return unto Him.
"Lord have mercy upon you;
Christ have mercy upon you.
Lord have mercy upon you;
Christ have mercy upon you."
The charitable Mr. Dowe, who took such interest in the last moments of the occupants of the condemned cell, was buried in the church of St. Botolph, Aldgate.
Another curious custom observed at St. Sepulchre's was the presentation of a nosegay to every criminal on his way to execution at Tyburn. No doubt the practice had its origin in some kindly feeling for the poor unfortunates who were so soon to bid farewell to all the beauties of earth. One of the last who received a nosegay from the steps of St. Sepulchre's was "Sixteen-string Jack," alias John Rann, who was hanged, in 1774, for robbing the Rev. Dr. Bell of his watch and eighteen pence in money, in Gunnersbury Lane, on the road to Brentford. Sixteen-string Jack wore the flowers in his button-hole as he rode dolefully to the gallows. This was witnessed by John Thomas Smith, who thus describes the scene in his admirable anecdotebook, "Nollekens and his Times:"—" I remember well, when I was in my eighth year, Mr. Nollekens calling at my father's house, in Great Portland Street, and taking us to Oxford Street, to see the notorious Jack Rann, commonly called Sixteenstring Jack, go to Tyburn to be hanged. … The criminal was dressed in a pea-green coat, with an immense nosegay in the button-hole, which had been presented to him at St. Sepulchre's steps; and his nankeen small-clothes, we were told, were tied at each knee with sixteen strings. After he had passed, and Mr. Nollekens was leading me home by the hand, I recollect his stooping down to me and observing, in a low tone of voice, 'Tom, now, my little man, if my father-in-law, Mr. Justice Welch, had been high constable, we could have walked by the side of the cart all the way to Tyburn.'"
When criminals were conveyed from Newgate to Tyburn, the cart passed up Giltspur Street, and through Smithfield, to Cow Lane. Skinner Street had not then been built, and the Crooked Lane which turned down by St. Sepulchre's, as well as Ozier Lane, did not afford sufficient width to admit of the cavalcade passing by either of them, with convenience, to Holborn Hill, or "the Heavy Hill," as it used to be called. The procession seems at no time to have had much of the solemn element about it. "The heroes of the day were often," says a popular writer, "on good terms with the mob, and jokes were exchanged between the men who were going to be hanged and the men who deserved to be."
"On St. Paul's Day," says Mr. Timbs (1868), "service is performed in St. Sepulchre's, in accordance with the will of Mr. Paul Jervis, who, in 1717, devised certain land in trust that a sermon should be preached in the church upon every Paul's Day upon the excellence of the liturgy o the Church of England; the preacher to receive 40s. for such sermon. Various sums are also bequeathed to the curate, the clerk, the treasurer, and masters of the parochial schools. To the poor of the parish he bequeathed 20s. a-piece to ten of the poorest householders within that part of the parish of St. Sepulchre commonly called Smithfield quarter, £4 to the treasurer of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, and 6s. 8d. yearly to the clerk, who shall attend to receive the same. The residue of the yearly rents and profits is to be distributed unto and amongst such poor people of the parish of St. Sepulchre's, London, who shall attend the service and sermon. At the close of the service the vestry-clerk reads aloud an extract from the will, and then proceeds to the distribution of the money. In the evening the vicar, churchwardens, and common councilmen of the precinct dine together."
In 1749, a Mr. Drinkwater made a praiseworthy bequest. He left the parish of St. Sepulchre £500 to be lent in sums of £25 to industrious young tradesmen. No interest was to be charged, and the money was to be lent for four years.
Next to St. Sepulchre's, on Snow Hill, used to stand the famous old inn of the "Saracen's Head." It was only swept away within the last few years by the ruthless army of City improvers: a view of it in course of demolition was given on page 439. It was one of the oldest of the London inns which bore the "Saracen's Head" for a sign. One of Dick Tarlton's jests makes mention of the "Saracen's Head" without Newgate, and Stow, describing this neighbourhood, speaks particularly of "a fair large inn for receipt of travellers" that "hath to sign the 'Saracen's Head.'" The courtyard had, to the last, many of the characteristics of an old English inn; there were galleries all round leading to the bedrooms, and a spacious gateway through which the dusty mail-coaches used to rumble, the tired passengers creeping forth "thanking their stars in having escaped the highwaymen and the holes and sloughs of the road." Into that courtyard how many have come on their first arrival in London with hearts beating high with hope, some of whom have risen to be aldermen and sit in state as lord mayor, whilst others have gone the way of the idle apprentice and come to a sad end at Tyburn! It was at this inn that Nicholas Nickleby and his uncle waited upon the Yorkshire schoolmaster Squeers, of Dotheboys Hall. Mr. Dickens describes the tavern as it existed in the last days of mail-coaching, when it was a most important place for arrivals and departures in London:—
"Next to the jail, and by consequence near to Smithfield also, and the Compter and the bustle and noise of the City, and just on that particular part of Snow Hill where omnibus horses going eastwards seriously think of falling down on purpose, and where horses in hackney cabriolets going westwards not unfrequently fall by accident, is the coach-yard of the 'Saracen's Head' inn, its portals guarded by two Saracen's heads and shoulders, which it was once the pride and glory of the choice spirits of this metropolis to pull down at night, but which have for some time remained in undisturbed tranquillity, possibly because this species of humour is now confined to St. James's parish, where doorknockers are preferred as being more portable, and bell-wires esteemed as convenient tooth-picks. Whether this be the reason or not, there they are, frowning upon you from each side of the gateway; and the inn itself, garnished with another Saracen's head, frowns upon you from the top of the yard; while from the door of the hind-boot of all the red coaches that are standing therein, there glares a small Saracen's head with a twin expression to the large Saracen's head below, so that the general appearance of the pile is of the Saracenic order."
To explain the use of the Saracen's head as an inn sign various reasons have been given. "When our countrymen," says Selden, "came home from fighting with the Saracens and were beaten by them, they pictured them with huge, big, terrible faces (as you still see the 'Saracen's Head' is), when in truth they were like other men. But this they did to save their own credit." Or the sign may have been adopted by those who had visited the Holy Land either as pilgrims or to fight the Saracens. Others, again, hold that it was first set up in compliment to the mother of Thomas à Becket, who was the daughter of a Saracen. However this may be, it is certain that the use of the sign in former days was very general.
Running past the east end of St. Sepulchre's, from Newgate into West Smithfield, is Giltspur Street, anciently called Knightriders Street. This interesting thoroughfare derives its name from the knights with their gilt spurs having been accustomed to ride this way to the jousts and tournaments which in days of old were held in Smithfield.
In this street was Giltspur Street Compter, a debtors' prison and house of correction appertaining to the sheriffs of London and Middlesex. It stood over against St. Sepulchre's Church, and was removed hither from the east side of Wood Street, Cheapside, in 1791. At the time of its removal it was used as a place of imprisonment for debtors, but the yearly increasing demands upon the contracted space caused that department to be given up, and City debtors were sent to Whitecross Street. The architect was Dance, to whom we are also indebted for the grim pile of Newgate. The Compter was a dirty and appropriately convictlooking edifice. It was pulled down in 1855. Mr. Hepworth Dixon gave an interesting account of this City House of Correction, not long before its demolition, in his "London Prisons" (1850). "Entering," he says, "at the door facing St. Sepulchre's, the visitor suddenly finds himself in a low dark passage, leading into the offices of the gaol, and branching off into other passages, darker, closer, more replete with noxious smells, than even those of Newgate. This is the fitting prelude to what follows. The prison, it must be noticed, is divided into two principal divisions, the House of Correction and the Compter. The front in Giltspur Street, and the side nearest to Newgate Street, is called the Compter. In its wards are placed detenues of various kinds—remands, committals from the police-courts, and generally persons waiting for trial, and consequently still unconvicted. The other department, the House of Correction, occupies the back portion of the premises, abutting on Christ's Hospital. Curious it is to consider how thin a wall divides these widely-separate worlds! And sorrowful it is to think what a difference of destiny awaits the children—destiny inexorable, though often unearned in either case—who, on the one side of it or the other, receive an eleemosynary education! The collegian and the criminal! Who shall say how much mere accident— circumstances over which the child has little power —determines to a life of usefulness or mischief? From the yards of Giltspur Street prison almost the only objects visible, outside of the gaol itself, are the towers of Christ's Hospital; the only sounds audible, the shouts of the scholars at their play. The balls of the hospital boys often fall within the yards of the prison. Whether these sights and sounds ever cause the criminal to pause and reflect upon the courses of his life, we will not say, but the stranger visiting the place will be very apt to think for him. …
"In the department of the prison called the House of Correction, minor offenders within the City of London are imprisoned. No transports are sent hither, nor is any person whose sentence is above three years in length." This able writer then goes on to tell of the many crying evils connected with the institution—the want of air, the over-crowded state of the rooms, the absence of proper cellular accommodation, and the vicious intercourse carried on amongst the prisoners. The entire gaol, when he wrote, only contained thirty-six separate sleeping-rooms. Now by the highest prison calculation—and this, be it noted, proceeds on the assumption that three persons can sleep in small, miserable, unventilated cells, which are built for only one, and are too confined for that, being only about one-half the size of the model cell for one at Pentonville—it was only capable of accommodating 203 prisoners, yet by the returns issued at Michaelmas, 1850, it contained 246!
A large section of the prison used to be devoted to female delinquents, but lately it was almost entirely given up to male offenders.
"The House of Correction, and the Compter portion of the establishment," says Mr. Dixon, "are kept quite distinct, but it would be difficult to award the palm of empire in their respective facilities for demoralisation. We think the Compter rather the worse of the two. You are shown into a room, about the size of an apartment in an ordinary dwelling-house, which will be found crowded with from thirty to forty persons, young and old, and in their ordinary costume; the low thief in his filth and rags, and the member of the swell-mob with his bright buttons, flash finery, and false jewels. Here you notice the boy who has just been guilty of his first offence, and committed for trial, learning with a greedy mind a thousand criminal arts, and listening with the precocious instinct of guilty passions to stories and conversations the most depraved and disgusting. You regard him with a mixture of pity and loathing, for he knows that the eyes of his peers are upon him, and he stares at you with a familiar impudence, and exhibits a devil-may-care countenance, such as is only to be met with in the juvenile offender. Here, too, may be seen the young clerk, taken up on suspicion—perhaps innocent—who avoids you with a shy look of pain and uneasiness: what a hell must this prison be to him! How frightful it is to think of a person really untainted with crime, compelled to herd for ten or twenty days with these abandoned wretches!
"On the other, the House of Correction side of the gaol, similar rooms will be found, full of prisoners communicating with each other, laughing and shouting without hindrance. All this is so little in accordance with existing notions of prison discipline, that one is continually fancying these disgraceful scenes cannot be in the capital of England, and in the year of grace 1850. Very few of the prisoners attend school or receive any instruction; neither is any kind of employment afforded them, except oakum-picking, and the still more disgusting labour of the treadmill. When at work, an officer is in attendance to prevent disorderly conduct; but his presence is of no avail as a protection to the less depraved. Conversation still goes on; and every facility is afforded for making acquaintances, and for mutual contamination."
After having long been branded by intelligent inspectors as a disgrace to the metropolis, Giltspur Street Compter was condemned, closed in 1854, and subsequently taken down.
Nearly opposite what used to be the site of the Compter, and adjoining Cock Lane, is the spot called Pie Corner, near which terminated the Great Fire of 1666. The fire commenced at Pudding Lane, it will be remembered, so it was singularly appropriate that it should terminate at Pie Corner. Under the date of 4th September, 1666, Pepys, in his "Diary," records that "W. Hewer this day went to see how his mother did, and comes home late, telling us how he hath been forced to remove her to Islington, her house in Pye Corner being burned; so that the fire is got so far that way." The figure of a fat naked boy stands over a public house at the corner of the lane; it used to have the following warning inscription attached:— "This boy is in memory put up of the late fire of London, occasioned by the sin of gluttony, 1666." According to Stow, Pie Corner derived its name from the sign of a well-frequented hostelry, which anciently stood on the spot. Strype makes honourable mention of Pie Corner, as "noted chiefly for cooks' shops and pigs dressed there during Bartholomew Fair." Our old writers have many references—and not all, by the way, in the best taste—to its cookstalls and dressed pork. Shadwell, for instance, in the Woman Captain (1680) speaks of "meat dressed at Pie Corner by greasy scullions;" and Ben Jonson writes in the Alchemist (1612)—
"I shall put you in mind, sir, at Pie Corner,
Taking your meal of steam in from cooks' stalls."
And in "The Great Boobee" ("Roxburgh Ballads"):
"Next day I through Pie Corner passed;
The roast meat on the stall
Invited me to take a taste;
My money was but small."
But Pie Corner seems to have been noted for more than eatables. A ballad from Tom D'Urfey's "Pills to Purge Melancholy," describing Bartholomew Fair, eleven years before the Fire of London, says:—
"At Pie-Corner end, mark well my good friend,
'Tis a very fine dirty place;
Where there's more arrows and bows. …
Than was handled at Chivy Chase."
We have already given a view of Pie Corner in our chapter on Smithfield, page 361.
Hosier Lane, running from Cow Lane to Smithfield, and almost parallel to Cock Lane, is described by "R. B.," in Strype, as a place not over-well built or inhabited. The houses were all old timber erections. Some of these—those standing at the south corner of the lane—were in the beginning of this century depicted by Mr. J. T. Smith, in his "Ancient Topography of London." He describes them as probably of the reign of James I. The rooms were small, with low, unornamented ceilings; the timber, oak, profusely used; the gables were plain, and the walls lath and plaster. They were taken down in 1809.
In the corner house, in Mr. Smith's time, there was a barber whose name was Catchpole; at least, so it was written over the door. He was rather an odd fellow, and possessed, according to his own account, a famous relic of antiquity. He would gravely show his customers a short-bladed instrument, as the identical dagger with which Walworth killed Wat Tyler.
Hosier Lane, like Pie Corner, used to be a great resort during the time of Bartholomew Fair, "all the houses," it is said in Strype, "generally being made public for tippling."
We return now from our excursion to the north of St. Sepulchre's, and continue our rambles to the west, and before speaking of what is, let us refer to what has been.
Turnagain Lane is not far from this. "Near unto this Seacoal Lane," remarks Stow, "in the turning towards Holborn Conduit, is Turnagain Lane, or rather, as in a record of the 5th of Edward III., Windagain Lane, for that it goeth down west to Fleet Dyke, from whence men must turn again the same way they came, but there it stopped." There used to be a proverb, "He must take him a house in Turnagain Lane."
A conduit formerly stood on Snow Hill, a little below the church. It is described as a building with four equal sides, ornamented with four columns and pediment, surmounted by a pyramid, on which stood a lamb—a rebus on the name of Lamb, from whose conduit in Red Lion Street the water came. There had been a conduit there, however, before Lamb's day, which was towards the close of the sixteenth century.
At No. 37, King Street, Snow Hill, there used to be a ladies' charity school, which was established in 1702, and remained in the parish 145 years. Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale were subscribers to this school, and Johnson drew from it his story of Betty Broom, in "The Idler." The world of domestic service, in Betty's days, seems to have been pretty much as now. Betty was a poor girl, bred in the country at a charity-school, maintained by the contributions of wealthy neighbours. The patronesses visited the school from time to time, to see how the pupils got on, and everything went well, till "at last, the chief of the subscribers having passed a winter in London, came down full of an opinion new and strange to the whole country. She held it little less than criminal to teach poor girls to read and write. They who are born to poverty, she said, are born to ignorance, and will work the harder the less they know. She told her friends that London was in confusion by the insolence of servants; that scarcely a girl could be got for all-work, since education had made such numbers of fine ladies, that nobody would now accept a lower title than that of a waiting-maid, or something that might qualify her to wear laced shoes and long ruffles, and to sit at work in the parlour window. But she was resolved, for her part, to spoil no more girls. Those who were to live by their hands should neither read nor write out of her pocket. The world was bad enough already, and she would have no part in making it worse.
"She was for a long time warmly opposed; but she persevered in her notions, and withdrew her subscription. Few listen, without a desire of conviction, to those who advise them to spare their money. Her example and her arguments gained ground daily; and in less than a year the whole parish was convinced that the nation would be ruined if the children of the poor were taught to read and write." So the school was dissolved, and Betty with the rest was turned adrift into the wide and cold world; and her adventures there any one may read in "The Idler" for himself.
There is an entry in the school minutes of 1763, to the effect that the ladies of the committee censured the schoolmistress for listening to the story of the Cock Lane ghost, and "desired her to keep her belief in the article to herself."
Skinner Street—now one of the names of the past—which ran by the south side of St. Sepulchre's, and formed the connecting link between Newgate Street and Holborn, received its name from Alderman Skinner, through whose exertions, about 1802, it was principally built. The following account of Skinner Street is from the picturesque pen of Mr. William Harvey ("Aleph"), whose long familiarity with the places he describes renders doubly valuable his many contributions to the history of London scenes and people:—"As a building speculation," he says, writing in 1863, "it was a failure. When the buildings were ready for occupation, tall and substantial as they really were, the high rents frightened intending shopkeepers. Tenants were not to be had; and in order to get over the money difficulty, a lottery, sanctioned by Parliament, was commenced. Lotteries were then common tricks of finance, and nobody wondered at the new venture; but even the most desperate fortune-hunters were slow to invest their capital, and the tickets hung sadly on hand. The day for the drawing was postponed several times, and when it came, there was little or no excitement on the subject, and whoever rejoiced in becoming a house-owner on such easy terms, the original projectors and builders were understood to have suffered considerably. The winners found the property in a very unfinished condition. Few of the dwellings were habitable, and as funds were often wanting, a majority of the houses remained empty, and the shops unopened. After two or three years things began to improve; the vast many-storeyed house which then covered the site of Commercial Place was converted into a warehousing depôt; a capital house opposite the 'Saracen's Head' was taken by a hosier of the name of Theobald, who, opening his shop with the determination of selling the best hosiery, and nothing else, was able to convince the citizens that his hose was first-rate, and, desiring only a living profit, succeeded, after thirty years of unwearied industry, in accumulating a large fortune. Theobald was possessed of literary tastes, and at the sale of Sir Walter Scott's manuscripts was a liberal purchaser. He also collected a library of exceedingly choice books, and when aristocratic customers purchased stockings of him, was soon able to interest them in matters of far higher interest…
"The most remarkable shop—but it was on the left-hand side, at a corner house—was that established for the sale of children's books. It boasted an immense extent of window-front, extending from the entrance into Snow Hill, and towards Fleet Market. Many a time have I lingered with loving eyes over those fascinating story-books, so rich in gaily-coloured prints; such careful editions of the marvellous old histories, 'Puss in Boots,' 'Cock Robin,' 'Cinderella,' and the like. Fortunately the front was kept low, so as exactly to suit the capacity of a childish admirer. . . . . But Skinner Street did not prosper much, and never could compete with even the dullest portions of Holborn. I have spoken of some reputable shops; but you know the proverb, 'One swallow will not make a summer,' and it was a declining neighbourhood almost before it could be called new. In 1810 the commercial depôt, which had been erected at a cost of £25,000, and was the chief prize in the lottery, was destroyed by fire, never to be rebuilt—a heavy blow and discouragement to Skinner Street, from which it never rallied. Perhaps the periodical hanging-days exercised an unfavourable influence, collecting, as they frequently did, all the thieves and vagabonds of London. I never sympathised with Pepys or Charles Fox in their passion for public executions, and made it a point to avoid those ghastly sights; but early of a Monday morning, when I had just reached the end of Giltspur Street, a miserable wretch had just been turned off from the platform of the debtors' door, and I was made the unwilling witness of his last struggles. That scene haunted me for months, and I often used to ask myself, 'Who that could help it would live in Skinner Street?' The next unpropitious event in these parts was the unexpected closing of the child's library. What could it mean? Such a well-to-do establishment shut up? Yes, the whole army of shutters looked blankly on the inquirer, and forbade even a single glance at 'Sinbad' or 'Robinson Crusoe.' It would soon be re-opened, we naturally thought; but the shutters never came down again. The whole house was deserted; not even a messenger in bankruptcy, or an ancient Charley, was found to regard the playful double knocks of the neighbouring juveniles. Gradually the glass of all the windows got broken in, a heavy cloud of black dust, solidifying into inches thick, gathered on sills and doors and brickwork, till the whole frontage grew as gloomy as Giant Despair's Castle. Not long after, the adjoining houses shared the same fate, and they remained from year to year without the slightest sign of life—absolute scarecrows, darkening with their uncomfortable shadows the busy streets. Within half a mile, in Stamford Street, Blackfriars, there are (1863) seven houses in a similar predicament— window-glass demolished, doors cracked from top to bottom, spiders' webs hanging from every projecting sill or parapet. What can it mean? The loss in the article of rents alone must be over £1,000 annually. If the real owners are at feud with imaginary owners, surely the property might be rendered valuable, and the proceeds invested. Even the lawyers can derive no profit from such hopeless abandonment. I am told the whole mischief arose out of a Chancery suit. Can it be the famous 'Jarndyce v. Jarndyce' case? And have all the heirs starved each other out? If so, what hinders our lady the Queen from taking possession? Any change would be an improvement, for these dead houses make the streets they cumber as dispiriting and comfortless as graveyards. Busy fancy will sometimes people them, and fill the dreary rooms with strange guests. Do the victims of guilt congregate in these dark dens? Do wretches 'unfriended by the world or the world's law,' seek refuge in these deserted nooks, mourning in the silence of despair over their former lives, and anticipating the future in unappeasable agony? Such things have been—the silence and desolation of these doomed dwellings make them the more suitable for such tenants."
A street is nothing without a mystery, so a mystery let these old tumble-down houses remain, whilst we go on to tell that, in front of No. 58, the sailor Cashman was hung in 1817, as we have already mentioned, for plundering a gunsmith's shop there. William Godwin, the author of "Caleb Williams," kept a bookseller's shop for several years in Skinner Street, at No. 41, and published school-books in the name of Edward Baldwin. On the wall there was a stone carving of Æsop reciting one of his fables to children.
The most noteworthy event of the life of Godwin was his marriage with the celebrated Mary Wollstonecraft, authoress of a "Vindication of the Rights of Women," whose congenial mind, in politics and morals, he ardently admired. Godwin's account of the way in which they got on together is worth reading:—"Ours," he writes, "was not an idle happiness, a paradise of selfish and transitory pleasures. It is, perhaps, scarcely necessary to mention, that influenced by ideas I had long entertained, I engaged an apartment about twenty doors from our house, in the Polygon, Somers Town, which I designed for the purpose of my study and literary occupations. Trifles, however, will be interesting to some readers, when they relate to the last period of the life of such a person as Mary. I will add, therefore, that we were both of us of opinion, that it was possible for two persons to be too uniformly in each other's society. Influenced by that opinion, it was my practice to repair to the apartment I have mentioned as soon as I rose, and frequently not to make my appearance in the Polygon till the hour of dinner. We agreed in condemning the notion, prevalent in many situations in life, that a man and his wife cannot visit in mixed society but in company with each other, and we rather sought occasions of deviating from than of complying with this rule. By this means, though, for the most part, we spent the latter half of each day in one another's society, yet we were in no danger of satiety. We seemed to combine, in a considerable degree, the novelty and lively sensation of a visit with the more delicious and heartfelt pleasure of a domestic life."
This philosophic union, to Godwin's inexpressible affliction, did not last more than eighteen months, at the end of which time Mrs. Godwin died, leaving an only daughter, who in the course of time became the second wife of the poet Shelley, and was the author of the wild and extraordinary tale of "Frankenstein."
With the rain falling harder, it was a bit of a route march to Holborn and my next church, the stunning St Sepulchre, which was also open.
-----------------------------------------------------
St Sepulchre-without-Newgate, also known as the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (Holborn), is an Anglican church in the City of London. It is located on Holborn Viaduct, almost opposite the Old Bailey. In medieval times it stood just outside ("without") the now-demolished old city wall, near the Newgate. It has been a living of St John's College, Oxford, since 1622.
The original Saxon church on the site was dedicated to St Edmund the King and Martyr. During the Crusades in the 12th century the church was renamed St Edmund and the Holy Sepulchre, in reference to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. The name eventually became contracted to St Sepulchre.
The church is today the largest parish church in the City. It was completely rebuilt in the 15th century but was gutted by the Great Fire of London in 1666,[1] which left only the outer walls, the tower and the porch standing[2] -. Modified in the 18th century, the church underwent extensive restoration in 1878. It narrowly avoided destruction in the Second World War, although the 18th-century watch-house in its churchyard (erected to deter grave-robbers) was completely destroyed and had to be rebuilt.
The interior of the church is a wide, roomy space with a coffered ceiling[3] installed in 1834. The Vicars' old residence has recently been renovated into a modern living quarter.
During the reign of Mary I in 1555, St Sepulchre's vicar, John Rogers, was burned as a heretic.
St Sepulchre is named in the nursery rhyme Oranges and Lemons as the "bells of Old Bailey". Traditionally, the great bell would be rung to mark the execution of a prisoner at the nearby gallows at Newgate. The clerk of St Sepulchre's was also responsible for ringing a handbell outside the condemned man's cell in Newgate Prison to inform him of his impending execution. This handbell, known as the Execution Bell, now resides in a glass case to the south of the nave.
The church has been the official musicians' church for many years and is associated with many famous musicians. Its north aisle (formerly a chapel dedicated to Stephen Harding) is dedicated as the Musicians' Chapel, with four windows commemorating John Ireland, the singer Dame Nellie Melba, Walter Carroll and the conductor Sir Henry Wood respectively.[4] Wood, who "at the age of fourteen, learned to play the organ" at this church [1] and later became its organist, also has his ashes buried in this church.
The south aisle of the church holds the regimental chapel of the Royal Fusiliers (City of London Regiment), and its gardens are a memorial garden to that regiment.[5] The west end of the north aisle has various memorials connected with the City of London Rifles (the 6th Battalion London Regiment). The church was designated a Grade I listed building on 4 January 1950.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Sepulchre-without-Newgate
The Early History of St. Sepulchre's—Its Destruction in 1666—The Exterior and Interior—The Early Popularity of the Church—Interments here—Roger Ascham, the Author of the "Schoolmaster"—Captain John Smith, and his Romantic Adventures—Saved by an Indian Girl— St. Sepulchre's Churchyard—Accommodation for a Murderess—The Martyr Rogers—An Odd Circumstance—Good Company for the Dead—A Leap from the Tower—A Warning Bell and a Last Admonition—Nosegays for the Condemned—The Route to the Gallows-tree— The Deeds of the Charitable—The "Saracen's Head"—Description by Dickens—Giltspur Street—Giltspur Street Compter—A Disreputable Condition—Pie Corner—Hosier Lane—A Spurious Relic—The Conduit on Snow Hill—A Ladies' Charity School—Turnagain Lane—Poor Betty!—A Schoolmistress Censured—Skinner Street—Unpropitious Fortune—William Godwin—An Original Married Life.
Many interesting associations—Principally, however, connected with the annals of crime and the execution of the laws of England—belong to the Church of St. Sepulchre, or St. 'Pulchre. This sacred edifice—anciently known as St. Sepulchre's in the Bailey, or by Chamberlain Gate (now Newgate)—stands at the eastern end of the slight acclivity of Snow Hill, and between Smithfield and the Old Bailey. The genuine materials for its early history are scanty enough. It was probably founded about the commencement of the twelfth century, but of the exact date and circumstances of its origin there is no record whatever. Its name is derived from the Holy Sepulchre of our Saviour at Jerusalem, to the memory of which it was first dedicated.
The earliest authentic notice of the church, according to Maitland, is of the year 1178, at which date it was given by Roger, Bishop of Sarum, to the Prior and Canons of St. Bartholomew. These held the right of advowson until the dissolution of monasteries by Henry VIII., and from that time until 1610 it remained in the hands of the Crown. James I., however, then granted "the rectory and its appurtenances, with the advowson of the vicarage," to Francis Phillips and others. The next stage in its history is that the rectory was purchased by the parishioners, to be held in fee-farm of the Crown, and the advowson was obtained by the President and Fellows of St. John the Baptist College, at Oxford.
The church was rebuilt about the middle of the fifteenth century, when one of the Popham family, who had been Chancellor of Normandy and Treasurer of the King's Household, with distinguished liberality erected a handsome chapel on the south side of the choir, and the very beautiful porch still remaining at the south-west corner of the building. "His image," Stow says, "fair graven in stone, was fixed over the said porch."
The dreadful fire of 1666 almost destroyed St. Sepulchre's, but the parishioners set energetically to work, and it was "rebuilt and beautified both within and without." The general reparation was under the direction of Sir Christopher Wren, and nothing but the walls of the old building, and these not entirely, were suffered to remain. The work was done rapidly, and the whole was completed within four years.
"The tower," says Mr. Godwin, "retained its original aspect, and the body of the church, after its restoration, presented a series of windows between buttresses, with pointed heads filled with tracery, crowned by a string-course and battlements. In this form it remained till the year 1790, when it appears the whole fabric was found to be in a state of great decay, and it was resolved to repair it throughout. Accordingly the walls of the church were cased with Portland stone, and all the windows were taken out and replaced by others with plain semi-circular heads, as now seen—certainly agreeing but badly with the tower and porch of the building, but according with the then prevailing spirit of economy. The battlements, too, were taken down, and a plain stone parapet was substituted, so that at this time (with the exception of the roof, which was wagon-headed, and presented on the outside an unsightly swell, visible above the parapet) the church assumed its present appearance." The ungainly roof was removed, and an entirely new one erected, about 1836.
At each corner of the tower—"one of the most ancient," says the author of "Londinium Redivivum," "in the outline of the circuit of London" —there are spires, and on the spires there are weathercocks. These have been made use of by Howell to point a moral: "Unreasonable people," says he, "are as hard to reconcile as the vanes of St. Sepulchre's tower, which never look all four upon one point of the heavens." Nothing can be said with certainty as to the date of the tower, but it is not without the bounds of probability that it formed part of the original building. The belfry is reached by a small winding staircase in the south-west angle, and a similar staircase in an opposite angle leads to the summit. The spires at the corners, and some of the tower windows, have very recently undergone several alterations, which have added much to the picturesqueness and beauty of the church.
The chief entrance to St. Sepulchre's is by a porch of singular beauty, projecting from the south side of the tower, at the western end of the church. The groining of the ceiling of this porch, it has been pointed out, takes an almost unique form; the ribs are carved in bold relief, and the bosses at the intersections represent angels' heads, shields, roses, &c., in great variety.
Coming now to the interior of the church, we find it divided into three aisles, by two ranges of Tuscan columns. The aisles are of unequal widths, that in the centre being the widest, that to the south the narrowest. Semi-circular arches connect the columns on either side, springing directly from their capitals, without the interposition of an entablature, and support a large dental cornice, extending round the church. The ceiling of the middle aisle is divided into seven compartments, by horizontal bands, the middle compartment being formed into a small dome.
The aisles have groined ceilings, ornamented at the angles with doves, &c., and beneath every division of the groining are small windows, to admit light to the galleries. Over each of the aisles there is a gallery, very clumsily introduced, which dates from the time when the church was built by Wren, and extends the whole length, excepting at the chancel. The front of the gallery, which is of oak, is described by Mr. Godwin as carved into scrolls, branches, &c., in the centre panel, on either side, with the initials "C. R.," enriched with carvings of laurel, which have, however, he says, "but little merit."
At the east end of the church there are three semicircular-headed windows. Beneath the centre one is a large Corinthian altar-piece of oak, displaying columns, entablatures, &c., elaborately carved and gilded.
The length of the church, exclusive of the ambulatory, is said to be 126 feet, the breadth 68 feet, and the height of the tower 140 feet.
A singularly ugly sounding-board, extending over the preacher, used to stand at the back of the pulpit, at the east end of the church. It was in the shape of a large parabolic reflector, about twelve feet in diameter, and was composed of ribs of mahogany.
At the west end of the church there is a large organ, said to be the oldest and one of the finest in London. It was built in 1677, and has been greatly enlarged. Its reed-stops (hautboy, clarinet, &c.) are supposed to be unrivalled. In Newcourt's time the church was taken notice of as "remarkable for possessing an exceedingly fine organ, and the playing is thought so beautiful, that large congregations are attracted, though some of the parishioners object to the mode of performing divine service."
On the north side of the church, Mr. Godwin mentions, is a large apartment known as "St. Stephen's Chapel." This building evidently formed a somewhat important part of the old church, and was probably appropriated to the votaries of the saint whose name it bears.
Between the exterior and the interior of the church there is little harmony. "For example," says Mr. Godwin, "the columns which form the south aisle face, in some instances, the centre of the large windows which occur in the external wall of the church, and in others the centre of the piers, indifferently." This discordance may likely enough have arisen from the fact that when the church was rebuilt, or rather restored, after the Great Fire, the works were done without much attention from Sir Christopher Wren.
St. Sepulchre's appears to have enjoyed considerable popularity from the earliest period of its history, if one is to judge from the various sums left by well-disposed persons for the support of certain fraternities founded in the church—namely, those of St. Katherine, St. Michael, St. Anne, and Our Lady—and by others, for the maintenance of chantry priests to celebrate masses at stated intervals for the good of their souls. One of the fraternities just named—that of St. Katherine— originated, according to Stow, in the devotion of some poor persons in the parish, and was in honour of the conception of the Virgin Mary. They met in the church on the day of the Conception, and there had the mass of the day, and offered to the same, and provided a certain chaplain daily to celebrate divine service, and to set up wax lights before the image belonging to the fraternity, on all festival days.
The most famous of all who have been interred in St. Sepulchre's is Roger Ascham, the author of the "Schoolmaster," and the instructor of Queen Elizabeth in Greek and Latin. This learned old worthy was born in 1515, near Northallerton, in Yorkshire. He was educated at Cambridge University, and in time rose to be the university orator, being notably zealous in promoting what was then a novelty in England—the study of the Greek language. To divert himself after the fatigue of severe study, he used to devote himself to archery. This drew down upon him the censure of the all-work-and-no-play school; and in defence of himself, Ascham, in 1545, published "Toxophilus," a treatise on his favourite sport. This book is even yet well worthy of perusal, for its enthusiasm, and for its curious descriptions of the personal appearance and manners of the principal persons whom the author had seen and conversed with. Henry VIII. rewarded him with a pension of £10 per annum, a considerable sum in those days. In 1548, Ascham, on the death of William Grindall, who had been his pupil, was appointed instructor in the learned languages to Lady Elizabeth, afterwards the good Queen Bess. At the end of two years he had some dispute with, or took a disgust at, Lady Elizabeth's attendants, resigned his situation, and returned to his college. Soon after this he was employed as secretary to the English ambassador at the court of Charles V. of Germany, and remained abroad till the death of Edward VI. During his absence he had been appointed Latin secretary to King Edward. Strangely enough, though Queen Mary and her ministers were Papists, and Ascham a Protestant, he was retained in his office of Latin secretary, his pension was increased to £20, and he was allowed to retain his fellowship and his situation as university orator. In 1554 he married a lady of good family, by whom he had a considerable fortune, and of whom, in writing to a friend, he gives, as might perhaps be expected, an excellent character. On the accession of Queen Elizabeth, in 1558, she not only required his services as Latin secretary, but as her instructor in Greek, and he resided at Court during the remainder of his life. He died in consequence of his endeavours to complete a Latin poem which he intended to present to the queen on the New Year's Day of 1569. He breathed his last two days before 1568 ran out, and was interred, according to his own directions, in the most private manner, in St. Sepulchre's Church, his funeral sermon being preached by Dr. Andrew Nowell, Dean of St. Paul's. He was universally lamented; and even the queen herself not only showed great concern, but was pleased to say that she would rather have lost ten thousand pounds than her tutor Ascham, which, from that somewhat closehanded sovereign, was truly an expression of high regard.
Ascham, like most men, had his little weaknesses. He had too great a propensity to dice and cock-fighting. Bishop Nicholson would try to convince us that this is an unfounded calumny, but, as it is mentioned by Camden, and other contemporary writers, it seems impossible to deny it. He died, from all accounts, in indifferent circumstances. "Whether," says Dr. Johnson, referring to this, "Ascham was poor by his own fault, or the fault of others, cannot now be decided; but it is certain that many have been rich with less merit. His philological learning would have gained him honour in any country; and among us it may justly call for that reverence which all nations owe to those who first rouse them from ignorance, and kindle among them the light of literature." His most valuable work, "The Schoolmaster," was published by his widow. The nature of this celebrated performance may be gathered from the title: "The Schoolmaster; or a plain and perfite way of teaching children to understand, write, and speak the Latin tongue. … And commodious also for all such as have forgot the Latin tongue, and would by themselves, without a schoolmaster, in short time, and with small pains, recover a sufficient habilitie to understand, write, and speak Latin: by Roger Ascham, ann. 1570. At London, printed by John Daye, dwelling over Aldersgate," a printer, by the way, already mentioned by us a few chapters back (see page 208), as having printed several noted works of the sixteenth century.
Dr. Johnson remarks that the instruction recommended in "The Schoolmaster" is perhaps the best ever given for the study of languages.
Here also lies buried Captain John Smith, a conspicuous soldier of fortune, whose romantic adventures and daring exploits have rarely been surpassed. He died on the 21st of June, 1631. This valiant captain was born at Willoughby, in the county of Lincoln, and helped by his doings to enliven the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. He had a share in the wars of Hungary in 1602, and in three single combats overcame three Turks, and cut off their heads. For this, and other equally brave deeds, Sigismund, Duke of Transylvania, gave him his picture set in gold, with a pension of three hundred ducats; and allowed him to bear three Turks' heads proper as his shield of arms. He afterwards went to America, where he had the misfortune to fall into the hands of the Indians. He escaped from them, however, at last, and resumed his brilliant career by hazarding his life in naval engagements with pirates and Spanish men-of-war. The most important act of his life was the share he had in civilising the natives of New England, and reducing that province to obedience to Great Britain. In connection with his tomb in St. Sepulchre's, he is mentioned by Stow, in his "Survey," as "some time Governor of Virginia and Admiral of New England."
Certainly the most interesting events of his chequered career were his capture by the Indians, and the saving of his life by the Indian girl Pocahontas, a story of adventure that charms as often as it is told. Bancroft, the historian of the United States, relates how, during the early settlement of Virginia, Smith left the infant colony on an exploring expedition, and not only ascended the river Chickahominy, but struck into the interior. His companions disobeyed his instructions, and being surprised by the Indians, were put to death. Smith preserved his own life by calmness and self-possession. Displaying a pocket-compass, he amused the savages by an explanation of its power, and increased their admiration of his superior genius by imparting to them some vague conceptions of the form of the earth, and the nature of the planetary system. To the Indians, who retained him as their prisoner, his captivity was a more strange event than anything of which the traditions of their tribes preserved the memory. He was allowed to send a letter to the fort at Jamestown, and the savage wonder was increased, for he seemed by some magic to endow the paper with the gift of intelligence. It was evident that their captive was a being of a high order, and then the question arose, Was his nature beneficent, or was he to be dreaded as a dangerous enemy? Their minds were bewildered, and the decision of his fate was referred to the chief Powhatan, and before Powhatan Smith was brought. "The fears of the feeble aborigines," says Bancroft, "were about to prevail, and his immediate death, already repeatedly threatened and repeatedly delayed, would have been inevitable, but for the timely intercession of Pocahontas, a girl twelve years old, the daughter of Powhatan, whose confiding fondness Smith had easily won, and who firmly clung to his neck, as his head was bowed down to receive the stroke of the tomahawks. His fearlessness, and her entreaties, persuaded the council to spare the agreeable stranger, who could make hatchets for her father, and rattles and strings of beads for herself, the favourite child. The barbarians, whose decision had long been held in suspense by the mysterious awe which Smith had inspired, now resolved to receive him as a friend, and to make him a partner of their councils. They tempted him to join their bands, and lend assistance in an attack upon the white men at Jamestown; and when his decision of character succeeded in changing the current of their thoughts, they dismissed him with mutual promises of friendship and benevolence. Thus the captivity of Smith did itself become a benefit to the colony; for he had not only observed with care the country between the James and the Potomac, and had gained some knowledge of the language and manners of the natives, but he now established a peaceful intercourse between the English and the tribes of Powhatan."
On the monument erected to Smith in St. Sepulchre's Church, the following quaint lines were formerly inscribed:—
"Here lies one conquered that hath conquered kings,
Subdued large territories, and done things
Which to the world impossible would seem,
But that the truth is held in more esteem.
Shall I report his former service done,
In honour of his God, and Christendom?
How that he did divide, from pagans three,
Their heads and lives, types of his chivalry?—
For which great service, in that climate done,
Brave Sigismundus, King of Hungarion,
Did give him, as a coat of arms, to wear
These conquered heads, got by his sword and spear.
Or shall I tell of his adventures since
Done in Virginia, that large continent?
How that he subdued kings unto his yoke,
And made those heathens flee, as wind doth smoke;
And made their land, being so large a station,
An habitation for our Christian nation,
Where God is glorified, their wants supplied;
Which else for necessaries, must have died.
But what avails his conquests, now he lies
Interred in earth, a prey to worms and flies?
Oh! may his soul in sweet Elysium sleep,
Until the Keeper, that all souls doth keep,
Return to judgment; and that after thence
With angels he may have his recompense."
Sir Robert Peake, the engraver, also found a last resting-place here. He is known as the master of William Faithorne—the famous English engraver of the seventeenth century—and governor of Basing House for the king during the Civil War under Charles I. He died in 1667. Here also was interred the body of Dr. Bell, grandfather of the originator of a well-known system of education.
"The churchyard of St. Sepulchre's," we learn from Maitland, "at one time extended so far into the street on the south side of the church, as to render the passage-way dangerously narrow. In 1760 the churchyard was, in consequence, levelled, and thrown open to the public. But this led to much inconvenience, and it was re-enclosed in 1802."
Sarah Malcolm, the murderess, was buried in the churchyard of St. Sepulchre's in 1733. This coldhearted and keen-eyed monster in human form has had her story told by us already. The parishioners seem, on this occasion, to have had no such scruples as had been exhibited by their predecessors a hundred and fifty years previous at the burial of Awfield, a traitor. We shall see presently that in those more remote days they were desirous of having at least respectable company for their deceased relatives and friends in the churchyard.
"For a long period," says Mr. Godwin (1838), "the church was surrounded by low mean buildings, by which its general appearance was hidden; but these having been cleared away, and the neighbourhood made considerably more open, St. Sepulchre's now forms a somewhat pleasing object, notwithstanding that the tower and a part of the porch are so entirely dissimilar in style to the remainder of the building." And since Godwin's writing the surroundings of the church have been so improved that perhaps few buildings in the metropolis stand more prominently before the public eye.
In the glorious roll of martyrs who have suffered at the stake for their religious principles, a vicar of St. Sepulchre's, the Reverend John Rogers, occupies a conspicuous place. He was the first who was burned in the reign of the Bloody Mary. This eminent person had at one time been chaplain to the English merchants at Antwerp, and while residing in that city had aided Tindal and Coverdale in their great work of translating the Bible. He married a German lady of good position, by whom he had a large family, and was enabled, by means of her relations, to reside in peace and safety in Germany. It appeared to be his duty, however, to return to England, and there publicly profess and advocate his religious convictions, even at the risk of death. He crossed the sea; he took his place in the pulpit at St. Paul's Cross; he preached a fearless and animated sermon, reminding his astonished audience of the pure and wholesome doctrine which had been promulgated from that pulpit in the days of the good King Edward, and solemnly warning them against the pestilent idolatry and superstition of these new times. It was his last sermon. He was apprehended, tried, condemned, and burned at Smithfield. We described, when speaking of Smithfield, the manner in which he met his fate.
Connected with the martyrdom of Rogers an odd circumstance is quoted in the "Churches of London." It is stated that when the bishops had resolved to put to death Joan Bocher, a friend came to Rogers and earnestly entreated his influence that the poor woman's life might be spared, and other means taken to prevent the spread of her heterodox doctrines. Rogers, however, contended that she should be executed; and his friend then begged him to choose some other kind of death, which should be more agreeable to the gentleness and mercy prescribed in the gospel. "No," replied Rogers, "burning alive is not a cruel death, but easy enough." His friend hearing these words, expressive of so little regard for the sufferings of a fellow-creature, answered him with great vehemence, at the same time striking Rogers' hand, "Well, it may perhaps so happen that you yourself shall have your hands full of this mild burning." There is no record of Rogers among the papers belonging to St. Sepulchre's, but this may easily be accounted for by the fact that at the Great Fire of 1666 nearly all the registers and archives were destroyed.
A noteworthy incident in the history of St. Sepulchre's was connected with the execution, in 1585, of Awfield, for "sparcinge abrood certen lewed, sedicious, and traytorous bookes." "When he was executed," says Fleetwood, the Recorder, in a letter to Lord Burleigh, July 7th of that year, "his body was brought unto St. Pulcher's to be buryed, but the parishioners would not suffer a traytor's corpse to be laid in the earth where their parents, wives, children, kindred, masters, and old neighbours did rest; and so his carcass was returned to the burial-ground near Tyburn, and there I leave it."
Another event in the history of the church is a tale of suicide. On the 10th of April, 1600, a man named William Dorrington threw himself from the roof of the tower, leaving there a prayer for forgiveness.
We come now to speak of the connection of St. Sepulchre's with the neighbouring prison of Newgate. Being the nearest church to the prison, that connection naturally was intimate. Its clock served to give the time to the hangman when there was an execution in the Old Bailey, and many a poor wretch's last moments must it have regulated.
On the right-hand side of the altar a board with a list of charitable donations and gifts used to contain the following item:—"1605. Mr. Robert Dowe gave, for ringing the greatest bell in this church on the day the condemned prisoners are executed, and for other services, for ever, concerning such condemned prisoners, for which services the sexton is paid £16s. 8d.—£50.
It was formerly the practice for the clerk or bellman of St. Sepulchre's to go under Newgate, on the night preceding the execution of a criminal, ring his bell, and repeat the following wholesome advice:—
"All you that in the condemned hold do lie,
Prepare you, for to-morrow you shall die;
Watch all, and pray, the hour is drawing near
That you before the Almighty must appear;
Examine well yourselves, in time repent,
That you may not to eternal flames be sent.
And when St. Sepulchre's bell to-morrow tolls,
The Lord above have mercy on your souls.
Past twelve o'clock!"
This practice is explained by a passage in Munday's edition of Stow, in which it is told that a Mr. John Dowe, citizen and merchant taylor of London, gave £50 to the parish church of St. Sepulchre's, under the following conditions:—After the several sessions of London, on the night before the execution of such as were condemned to death, the clerk of the church was to go in the night-time, and also early in the morning, to the window of the prison in which they were lying. He was there to ring "certain tolls with a hand-bell" appointed for the purpose, and was afterwards, in a most Christian manner, to put them in mind of their present condition and approaching end, and to exhort them to be prepared, as they ought to be, to die. When they were in the cart, and brought before the walls of the church, the clerk was to stand there ready with the same bell, and, after certain tolls, rehearse a prayer, desiring all the people there present to pray for the unfortunate criminals. The beadle, also, of Merchant Taylors' Hall was allowed an "honest stipend" to see that this ceremony was regularly performed.
The affecting admonition—"affectingly good," Pennant calls it—addressed to the prisoners in Newgate, on the night before execution, ran as follows:—
"You prisoners that are within,
Who, for wickedness and sin,
after many mercies shown you, are now appointed to die to-morrow in the forenoon; give ear and understand that, to-morrow morning, the greatest bell of St. Sepulchre's shall toll for you, in form and manner of a passing-bell, as used to be tolled for those that are at the point of death; to the end that all godly people, hearing that bell, and knowing it is for your going to your deaths, may be stirred up heartily to pray to God to bestow his grace and mercy upon you, whilst you live. I beseech you, for Jesus Christ's sake, to keep this night in watching and prayer, to the salvation of your own souls while there is yet time and place for mercy; as knowing to-morrow you must appear before the judgment-seat of your Creator, there to give an account of all things done in this life, and to suffer eternal torments for your sins committed against Him, unless, upon your hearty and unfeigned repentance, you find mercy through the merits, death, and passion of your only Mediator and Advocate, Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return to Him."
And the following was the admonition to condemned criminals, as they were passing by St. Sepulchre's Church wall to execution:—" All good people, pray heartily unto God for these poor sinners, who are now going to their death, for whom this great bell doth toll.
"You that are condemned to die, repent with lamentable tears; ask mercy of the Lord, for the salvation of your own souls, through the [merits, death, and passion of Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return unto Him.
"Lord have mercy upon you;
Christ have mercy upon you.
Lord have mercy upon you;
Christ have mercy upon you."
The charitable Mr. Dowe, who took such interest in the last moments of the occupants of the condemned cell, was buried in the church of St. Botolph, Aldgate.
Another curious custom observed at St. Sepulchre's was the presentation of a nosegay to every criminal on his way to execution at Tyburn. No doubt the practice had its origin in some kindly feeling for the poor unfortunates who were so soon to bid farewell to all the beauties of earth. One of the last who received a nosegay from the steps of St. Sepulchre's was "Sixteen-string Jack," alias John Rann, who was hanged, in 1774, for robbing the Rev. Dr. Bell of his watch and eighteen pence in money, in Gunnersbury Lane, on the road to Brentford. Sixteen-string Jack wore the flowers in his button-hole as he rode dolefully to the gallows. This was witnessed by John Thomas Smith, who thus describes the scene in his admirable anecdotebook, "Nollekens and his Times:"—" I remember well, when I was in my eighth year, Mr. Nollekens calling at my father's house, in Great Portland Street, and taking us to Oxford Street, to see the notorious Jack Rann, commonly called Sixteenstring Jack, go to Tyburn to be hanged. … The criminal was dressed in a pea-green coat, with an immense nosegay in the button-hole, which had been presented to him at St. Sepulchre's steps; and his nankeen small-clothes, we were told, were tied at each knee with sixteen strings. After he had passed, and Mr. Nollekens was leading me home by the hand, I recollect his stooping down to me and observing, in a low tone of voice, 'Tom, now, my little man, if my father-in-law, Mr. Justice Welch, had been high constable, we could have walked by the side of the cart all the way to Tyburn.'"
When criminals were conveyed from Newgate to Tyburn, the cart passed up Giltspur Street, and through Smithfield, to Cow Lane. Skinner Street had not then been built, and the Crooked Lane which turned down by St. Sepulchre's, as well as Ozier Lane, did not afford sufficient width to admit of the cavalcade passing by either of them, with convenience, to Holborn Hill, or "the Heavy Hill," as it used to be called. The procession seems at no time to have had much of the solemn element about it. "The heroes of the day were often," says a popular writer, "on good terms with the mob, and jokes were exchanged between the men who were going to be hanged and the men who deserved to be."
"On St. Paul's Day," says Mr. Timbs (1868), "service is performed in St. Sepulchre's, in accordance with the will of Mr. Paul Jervis, who, in 1717, devised certain land in trust that a sermon should be preached in the church upon every Paul's Day upon the excellence of the liturgy o the Church of England; the preacher to receive 40s. for such sermon. Various sums are also bequeathed to the curate, the clerk, the treasurer, and masters of the parochial schools. To the poor of the parish he bequeathed 20s. a-piece to ten of the poorest householders within that part of the parish of St. Sepulchre commonly called Smithfield quarter, £4 to the treasurer of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, and 6s. 8d. yearly to the clerk, who shall attend to receive the same. The residue of the yearly rents and profits is to be distributed unto and amongst such poor people of the parish of St. Sepulchre's, London, who shall attend the service and sermon. At the close of the service the vestry-clerk reads aloud an extract from the will, and then proceeds to the distribution of the money. In the evening the vicar, churchwardens, and common councilmen of the precinct dine together."
In 1749, a Mr. Drinkwater made a praiseworthy bequest. He left the parish of St. Sepulchre £500 to be lent in sums of £25 to industrious young tradesmen. No interest was to be charged, and the money was to be lent for four years.
Next to St. Sepulchre's, on Snow Hill, used to stand the famous old inn of the "Saracen's Head." It was only swept away within the last few years by the ruthless army of City improvers: a view of it in course of demolition was given on page 439. It was one of the oldest of the London inns which bore the "Saracen's Head" for a sign. One of Dick Tarlton's jests makes mention of the "Saracen's Head" without Newgate, and Stow, describing this neighbourhood, speaks particularly of "a fair large inn for receipt of travellers" that "hath to sign the 'Saracen's Head.'" The courtyard had, to the last, many of the characteristics of an old English inn; there were galleries all round leading to the bedrooms, and a spacious gateway through which the dusty mail-coaches used to rumble, the tired passengers creeping forth "thanking their stars in having escaped the highwaymen and the holes and sloughs of the road." Into that courtyard how many have come on their first arrival in London with hearts beating high with hope, some of whom have risen to be aldermen and sit in state as lord mayor, whilst others have gone the way of the idle apprentice and come to a sad end at Tyburn! It was at this inn that Nicholas Nickleby and his uncle waited upon the Yorkshire schoolmaster Squeers, of Dotheboys Hall. Mr. Dickens describes the tavern as it existed in the last days of mail-coaching, when it was a most important place for arrivals and departures in London:—
"Next to the jail, and by consequence near to Smithfield also, and the Compter and the bustle and noise of the City, and just on that particular part of Snow Hill where omnibus horses going eastwards seriously think of falling down on purpose, and where horses in hackney cabriolets going westwards not unfrequently fall by accident, is the coach-yard of the 'Saracen's Head' inn, its portals guarded by two Saracen's heads and shoulders, which it was once the pride and glory of the choice spirits of this metropolis to pull down at night, but which have for some time remained in undisturbed tranquillity, possibly because this species of humour is now confined to St. James's parish, where doorknockers are preferred as being more portable, and bell-wires esteemed as convenient tooth-picks. Whether this be the reason or not, there they are, frowning upon you from each side of the gateway; and the inn itself, garnished with another Saracen's head, frowns upon you from the top of the yard; while from the door of the hind-boot of all the red coaches that are standing therein, there glares a small Saracen's head with a twin expression to the large Saracen's head below, so that the general appearance of the pile is of the Saracenic order."
To explain the use of the Saracen's head as an inn sign various reasons have been given. "When our countrymen," says Selden, "came home from fighting with the Saracens and were beaten by them, they pictured them with huge, big, terrible faces (as you still see the 'Saracen's Head' is), when in truth they were like other men. But this they did to save their own credit." Or the sign may have been adopted by those who had visited the Holy Land either as pilgrims or to fight the Saracens. Others, again, hold that it was first set up in compliment to the mother of Thomas à Becket, who was the daughter of a Saracen. However this may be, it is certain that the use of the sign in former days was very general.
Running past the east end of St. Sepulchre's, from Newgate into West Smithfield, is Giltspur Street, anciently called Knightriders Street. This interesting thoroughfare derives its name from the knights with their gilt spurs having been accustomed to ride this way to the jousts and tournaments which in days of old were held in Smithfield.
In this street was Giltspur Street Compter, a debtors' prison and house of correction appertaining to the sheriffs of London and Middlesex. It stood over against St. Sepulchre's Church, and was removed hither from the east side of Wood Street, Cheapside, in 1791. At the time of its removal it was used as a place of imprisonment for debtors, but the yearly increasing demands upon the contracted space caused that department to be given up, and City debtors were sent to Whitecross Street. The architect was Dance, to whom we are also indebted for the grim pile of Newgate. The Compter was a dirty and appropriately convictlooking edifice. It was pulled down in 1855. Mr. Hepworth Dixon gave an interesting account of this City House of Correction, not long before its demolition, in his "London Prisons" (1850). "Entering," he says, "at the door facing St. Sepulchre's, the visitor suddenly finds himself in a low dark passage, leading into the offices of the gaol, and branching off into other passages, darker, closer, more replete with noxious smells, than even those of Newgate. This is the fitting prelude to what follows. The prison, it must be noticed, is divided into two principal divisions, the House of Correction and the Compter. The front in Giltspur Street, and the side nearest to Newgate Street, is called the Compter. In its wards are placed detenues of various kinds—remands, committals from the police-courts, and generally persons waiting for trial, and consequently still unconvicted. The other department, the House of Correction, occupies the back portion of the premises, abutting on Christ's Hospital. Curious it is to consider how thin a wall divides these widely-separate worlds! And sorrowful it is to think what a difference of destiny awaits the children—destiny inexorable, though often unearned in either case—who, on the one side of it or the other, receive an eleemosynary education! The collegian and the criminal! Who shall say how much mere accident— circumstances over which the child has little power —determines to a life of usefulness or mischief? From the yards of Giltspur Street prison almost the only objects visible, outside of the gaol itself, are the towers of Christ's Hospital; the only sounds audible, the shouts of the scholars at their play. The balls of the hospital boys often fall within the yards of the prison. Whether these sights and sounds ever cause the criminal to pause and reflect upon the courses of his life, we will not say, but the stranger visiting the place will be very apt to think for him. …
"In the department of the prison called the House of Correction, minor offenders within the City of London are imprisoned. No transports are sent hither, nor is any person whose sentence is above three years in length." This able writer then goes on to tell of the many crying evils connected with the institution—the want of air, the over-crowded state of the rooms, the absence of proper cellular accommodation, and the vicious intercourse carried on amongst the prisoners. The entire gaol, when he wrote, only contained thirty-six separate sleeping-rooms. Now by the highest prison calculation—and this, be it noted, proceeds on the assumption that three persons can sleep in small, miserable, unventilated cells, which are built for only one, and are too confined for that, being only about one-half the size of the model cell for one at Pentonville—it was only capable of accommodating 203 prisoners, yet by the returns issued at Michaelmas, 1850, it contained 246!
A large section of the prison used to be devoted to female delinquents, but lately it was almost entirely given up to male offenders.
"The House of Correction, and the Compter portion of the establishment," says Mr. Dixon, "are kept quite distinct, but it would be difficult to award the palm of empire in their respective facilities for demoralisation. We think the Compter rather the worse of the two. You are shown into a room, about the size of an apartment in an ordinary dwelling-house, which will be found crowded with from thirty to forty persons, young and old, and in their ordinary costume; the low thief in his filth and rags, and the member of the swell-mob with his bright buttons, flash finery, and false jewels. Here you notice the boy who has just been guilty of his first offence, and committed for trial, learning with a greedy mind a thousand criminal arts, and listening with the precocious instinct of guilty passions to stories and conversations the most depraved and disgusting. You regard him with a mixture of pity and loathing, for he knows that the eyes of his peers are upon him, and he stares at you with a familiar impudence, and exhibits a devil-may-care countenance, such as is only to be met with in the juvenile offender. Here, too, may be seen the young clerk, taken up on suspicion—perhaps innocent—who avoids you with a shy look of pain and uneasiness: what a hell must this prison be to him! How frightful it is to think of a person really untainted with crime, compelled to herd for ten or twenty days with these abandoned wretches!
"On the other, the House of Correction side of the gaol, similar rooms will be found, full of prisoners communicating with each other, laughing and shouting without hindrance. All this is so little in accordance with existing notions of prison discipline, that one is continually fancying these disgraceful scenes cannot be in the capital of England, and in the year of grace 1850. Very few of the prisoners attend school or receive any instruction; neither is any kind of employment afforded them, except oakum-picking, and the still more disgusting labour of the treadmill. When at work, an officer is in attendance to prevent disorderly conduct; but his presence is of no avail as a protection to the less depraved. Conversation still goes on; and every facility is afforded for making acquaintances, and for mutual contamination."
After having long been branded by intelligent inspectors as a disgrace to the metropolis, Giltspur Street Compter was condemned, closed in 1854, and subsequently taken down.
Nearly opposite what used to be the site of the Compter, and adjoining Cock Lane, is the spot called Pie Corner, near which terminated the Great Fire of 1666. The fire commenced at Pudding Lane, it will be remembered, so it was singularly appropriate that it should terminate at Pie Corner. Under the date of 4th September, 1666, Pepys, in his "Diary," records that "W. Hewer this day went to see how his mother did, and comes home late, telling us how he hath been forced to remove her to Islington, her house in Pye Corner being burned; so that the fire is got so far that way." The figure of a fat naked boy stands over a public house at the corner of the lane; it used to have the following warning inscription attached:— "This boy is in memory put up of the late fire of London, occasioned by the sin of gluttony, 1666." According to Stow, Pie Corner derived its name from the sign of a well-frequented hostelry, which anciently stood on the spot. Strype makes honourable mention of Pie Corner, as "noted chiefly for cooks' shops and pigs dressed there during Bartholomew Fair." Our old writers have many references—and not all, by the way, in the best taste—to its cookstalls and dressed pork. Shadwell, for instance, in the Woman Captain (1680) speaks of "meat dressed at Pie Corner by greasy scullions;" and Ben Jonson writes in the Alchemist (1612)—
"I shall put you in mind, sir, at Pie Corner,
Taking your meal of steam in from cooks' stalls."
And in "The Great Boobee" ("Roxburgh Ballads"):
"Next day I through Pie Corner passed;
The roast meat on the stall
Invited me to take a taste;
My money was but small."
But Pie Corner seems to have been noted for more than eatables. A ballad from Tom D'Urfey's "Pills to Purge Melancholy," describing Bartholomew Fair, eleven years before the Fire of London, says:—
"At Pie-Corner end, mark well my good friend,
'Tis a very fine dirty place;
Where there's more arrows and bows. …
Than was handled at Chivy Chase."
We have already given a view of Pie Corner in our chapter on Smithfield, page 361.
Hosier Lane, running from Cow Lane to Smithfield, and almost parallel to Cock Lane, is described by "R. B.," in Strype, as a place not over-well built or inhabited. The houses were all old timber erections. Some of these—those standing at the south corner of the lane—were in the beginning of this century depicted by Mr. J. T. Smith, in his "Ancient Topography of London." He describes them as probably of the reign of James I. The rooms were small, with low, unornamented ceilings; the timber, oak, profusely used; the gables were plain, and the walls lath and plaster. They were taken down in 1809.
In the corner house, in Mr. Smith's time, there was a barber whose name was Catchpole; at least, so it was written over the door. He was rather an odd fellow, and possessed, according to his own account, a famous relic of antiquity. He would gravely show his customers a short-bladed instrument, as the identical dagger with which Walworth killed Wat Tyler.
Hosier Lane, like Pie Corner, used to be a great resort during the time of Bartholomew Fair, "all the houses," it is said in Strype, "generally being made public for tippling."
We return now from our excursion to the north of St. Sepulchre's, and continue our rambles to the west, and before speaking of what is, let us refer to what has been.
Turnagain Lane is not far from this. "Near unto this Seacoal Lane," remarks Stow, "in the turning towards Holborn Conduit, is Turnagain Lane, or rather, as in a record of the 5th of Edward III., Windagain Lane, for that it goeth down west to Fleet Dyke, from whence men must turn again the same way they came, but there it stopped." There used to be a proverb, "He must take him a house in Turnagain Lane."
A conduit formerly stood on Snow Hill, a little below the church. It is described as a building with four equal sides, ornamented with four columns and pediment, surmounted by a pyramid, on which stood a lamb—a rebus on the name of Lamb, from whose conduit in Red Lion Street the water came. There had been a conduit there, however, before Lamb's day, which was towards the close of the sixteenth century.
At No. 37, King Street, Snow Hill, there used to be a ladies' charity school, which was established in 1702, and remained in the parish 145 years. Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale were subscribers to this school, and Johnson drew from it his story of Betty Broom, in "The Idler." The world of domestic service, in Betty's days, seems to have been pretty much as now. Betty was a poor girl, bred in the country at a charity-school, maintained by the contributions of wealthy neighbours. The patronesses visited the school from time to time, to see how the pupils got on, and everything went well, till "at last, the chief of the subscribers having passed a winter in London, came down full of an opinion new and strange to the whole country. She held it little less than criminal to teach poor girls to read and write. They who are born to poverty, she said, are born to ignorance, and will work the harder the less they know. She told her friends that London was in confusion by the insolence of servants; that scarcely a girl could be got for all-work, since education had made such numbers of fine ladies, that nobody would now accept a lower title than that of a waiting-maid, or something that might qualify her to wear laced shoes and long ruffles, and to sit at work in the parlour window. But she was resolved, for her part, to spoil no more girls. Those who were to live by their hands should neither read nor write out of her pocket. The world was bad enough already, and she would have no part in making it worse.
"She was for a long time warmly opposed; but she persevered in her notions, and withdrew her subscription. Few listen, without a desire of conviction, to those who advise them to spare their money. Her example and her arguments gained ground daily; and in less than a year the whole parish was convinced that the nation would be ruined if the children of the poor were taught to read and write." So the school was dissolved, and Betty with the rest was turned adrift into the wide and cold world; and her adventures there any one may read in "The Idler" for himself.
There is an entry in the school minutes of 1763, to the effect that the ladies of the committee censured the schoolmistress for listening to the story of the Cock Lane ghost, and "desired her to keep her belief in the article to herself."
Skinner Street—now one of the names of the past—which ran by the south side of St. Sepulchre's, and formed the connecting link between Newgate Street and Holborn, received its name from Alderman Skinner, through whose exertions, about 1802, it was principally built. The following account of Skinner Street is from the picturesque pen of Mr. William Harvey ("Aleph"), whose long familiarity with the places he describes renders doubly valuable his many contributions to the history of London scenes and people:—"As a building speculation," he says, writing in 1863, "it was a failure. When the buildings were ready for occupation, tall and substantial as they really were, the high rents frightened intending shopkeepers. Tenants were not to be had; and in order to get over the money difficulty, a lottery, sanctioned by Parliament, was commenced. Lotteries were then common tricks of finance, and nobody wondered at the new venture; but even the most desperate fortune-hunters were slow to invest their capital, and the tickets hung sadly on hand. The day for the drawing was postponed several times, and when it came, there was little or no excitement on the subject, and whoever rejoiced in becoming a house-owner on such easy terms, the original projectors and builders were understood to have suffered considerably. The winners found the property in a very unfinished condition. Few of the dwellings were habitable, and as funds were often wanting, a majority of the houses remained empty, and the shops unopened. After two or three years things began to improve; the vast many-storeyed house which then covered the site of Commercial Place was converted into a warehousing depôt; a capital house opposite the 'Saracen's Head' was taken by a hosier of the name of Theobald, who, opening his shop with the determination of selling the best hosiery, and nothing else, was able to convince the citizens that his hose was first-rate, and, desiring only a living profit, succeeded, after thirty years of unwearied industry, in accumulating a large fortune. Theobald was possessed of literary tastes, and at the sale of Sir Walter Scott's manuscripts was a liberal purchaser. He also collected a library of exceedingly choice books, and when aristocratic customers purchased stockings of him, was soon able to interest them in matters of far higher interest…
"The most remarkable shop—but it was on the left-hand side, at a corner house—was that established for the sale of children's books. It boasted an immense extent of window-front, extending from the entrance into Snow Hill, and towards Fleet Market. Many a time have I lingered with loving eyes over those fascinating story-books, so rich in gaily-coloured prints; such careful editions of the marvellous old histories, 'Puss in Boots,' 'Cock Robin,' 'Cinderella,' and the like. Fortunately the front was kept low, so as exactly to suit the capacity of a childish admirer. . . . . But Skinner Street did not prosper much, and never could compete with even the dullest portions of Holborn. I have spoken of some reputable shops; but you know the proverb, 'One swallow will not make a summer,' and it was a declining neighbourhood almost before it could be called new. In 1810 the commercial depôt, which had been erected at a cost of £25,000, and was the chief prize in the lottery, was destroyed by fire, never to be rebuilt—a heavy blow and discouragement to Skinner Street, from which it never rallied. Perhaps the periodical hanging-days exercised an unfavourable influence, collecting, as they frequently did, all the thieves and vagabonds of London. I never sympathised with Pepys or Charles Fox in their passion for public executions, and made it a point to avoid those ghastly sights; but early of a Monday morning, when I had just reached the end of Giltspur Street, a miserable wretch had just been turned off from the platform of the debtors' door, and I was made the unwilling witness of his last struggles. That scene haunted me for months, and I often used to ask myself, 'Who that could help it would live in Skinner Street?' The next unpropitious event in these parts was the unexpected closing of the child's library. What could it mean? Such a well-to-do establishment shut up? Yes, the whole army of shutters looked blankly on the inquirer, and forbade even a single glance at 'Sinbad' or 'Robinson Crusoe.' It would soon be re-opened, we naturally thought; but the shutters never came down again. The whole house was deserted; not even a messenger in bankruptcy, or an ancient Charley, was found to regard the playful double knocks of the neighbouring juveniles. Gradually the glass of all the windows got broken in, a heavy cloud of black dust, solidifying into inches thick, gathered on sills and doors and brickwork, till the whole frontage grew as gloomy as Giant Despair's Castle. Not long after, the adjoining houses shared the same fate, and they remained from year to year without the slightest sign of life—absolute scarecrows, darkening with their uncomfortable shadows the busy streets. Within half a mile, in Stamford Street, Blackfriars, there are (1863) seven houses in a similar predicament— window-glass demolished, doors cracked from top to bottom, spiders' webs hanging from every projecting sill or parapet. What can it mean? The loss in the article of rents alone must be over £1,000 annually. If the real owners are at feud with imaginary owners, surely the property might be rendered valuable, and the proceeds invested. Even the lawyers can derive no profit from such hopeless abandonment. I am told the whole mischief arose out of a Chancery suit. Can it be the famous 'Jarndyce v. Jarndyce' case? And have all the heirs starved each other out? If so, what hinders our lady the Queen from taking possession? Any change would be an improvement, for these dead houses make the streets they cumber as dispiriting and comfortless as graveyards. Busy fancy will sometimes people them, and fill the dreary rooms with strange guests. Do the victims of guilt congregate in these dark dens? Do wretches 'unfriended by the world or the world's law,' seek refuge in these deserted nooks, mourning in the silence of despair over their former lives, and anticipating the future in unappeasable agony? Such things have been—the silence and desolation of these doomed dwellings make them the more suitable for such tenants."
A street is nothing without a mystery, so a mystery let these old tumble-down houses remain, whilst we go on to tell that, in front of No. 58, the sailor Cashman was hung in 1817, as we have already mentioned, for plundering a gunsmith's shop there. William Godwin, the author of "Caleb Williams," kept a bookseller's shop for several years in Skinner Street, at No. 41, and published school-books in the name of Edward Baldwin. On the wall there was a stone carving of Æsop reciting one of his fables to children.
The most noteworthy event of the life of Godwin was his marriage with the celebrated Mary Wollstonecraft, authoress of a "Vindication of the Rights of Women," whose congenial mind, in politics and morals, he ardently admired. Godwin's account of the way in which they got on together is worth reading:—"Ours," he writes, "was not an idle happiness, a paradise of selfish and transitory pleasures. It is, perhaps, scarcely necessary to mention, that influenced by ideas I had long entertained, I engaged an apartment about twenty doors from our house, in the Polygon, Somers Town, which I designed for the purpose of my study and literary occupations. Trifles, however, will be interesting to some readers, when they relate to the last period of the life of such a person as Mary. I will add, therefore, that we were both of us of opinion, that it was possible for two persons to be too uniformly in each other's society. Influenced by that opinion, it was my practice to repair to the apartment I have mentioned as soon as I rose, and frequently not to make my appearance in the Polygon till the hour of dinner. We agreed in condemning the notion, prevalent in many situations in life, that a man and his wife cannot visit in mixed society but in company with each other, and we rather sought occasions of deviating from than of complying with this rule. By this means, though, for the most part, we spent the latter half of each day in one another's society, yet we were in no danger of satiety. We seemed to combine, in a considerable degree, the novelty and lively sensation of a visit with the more delicious and heartfelt pleasure of a domestic life."
This philosophic union, to Godwin's inexpressible affliction, did not last more than eighteen months, at the end of which time Mrs. Godwin died, leaving an only daughter, who in the course of time became the second wife of the poet Shelley, and was the author of the wild and extraordinary tale of "Frankenstein."
With the rain falling harder, it was a bit of a route march to Holborn and my next church, the stunning St Sepulchre, which was also open.
-----------------------------------------------------
St Sepulchre-without-Newgate, also known as the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (Holborn), is an Anglican church in the City of London. It is located on Holborn Viaduct, almost opposite the Old Bailey. In medieval times it stood just outside ("without") the now-demolished old city wall, near the Newgate. It has been a living of St John's College, Oxford, since 1622.
The original Saxon church on the site was dedicated to St Edmund the King and Martyr. During the Crusades in the 12th century the church was renamed St Edmund and the Holy Sepulchre, in reference to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. The name eventually became contracted to St Sepulchre.
The church is today the largest parish church in the City. It was completely rebuilt in the 15th century but was gutted by the Great Fire of London in 1666,[1] which left only the outer walls, the tower and the porch standing[2] -. Modified in the 18th century, the church underwent extensive restoration in 1878. It narrowly avoided destruction in the Second World War, although the 18th-century watch-house in its churchyard (erected to deter grave-robbers) was completely destroyed and had to be rebuilt.
The interior of the church is a wide, roomy space with a coffered ceiling[3] installed in 1834. The Vicars' old residence has recently been renovated into a modern living quarter.
During the reign of Mary I in 1555, St Sepulchre's vicar, John Rogers, was burned as a heretic.
St Sepulchre is named in the nursery rhyme Oranges and Lemons as the "bells of Old Bailey". Traditionally, the great bell would be rung to mark the execution of a prisoner at the nearby gallows at Newgate. The clerk of St Sepulchre's was also responsible for ringing a handbell outside the condemned man's cell in Newgate Prison to inform him of his impending execution. This handbell, known as the Execution Bell, now resides in a glass case to the south of the nave.
The church has been the official musicians' church for many years and is associated with many famous musicians. Its north aisle (formerly a chapel dedicated to Stephen Harding) is dedicated as the Musicians' Chapel, with four windows commemorating John Ireland, the singer Dame Nellie Melba, Walter Carroll and the conductor Sir Henry Wood respectively.[4] Wood, who "at the age of fourteen, learned to play the organ" at this church [1] and later became its organist, also has his ashes buried in this church.
The south aisle of the church holds the regimental chapel of the Royal Fusiliers (City of London Regiment), and its gardens are a memorial garden to that regiment.[5] The west end of the north aisle has various memorials connected with the City of London Rifles (the 6th Battalion London Regiment). The church was designated a Grade I listed building on 4 January 1950.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Sepulchre-without-Newgate
The Early History of St. Sepulchre's—Its Destruction in 1666—The Exterior and Interior—The Early Popularity of the Church—Interments here—Roger Ascham, the Author of the "Schoolmaster"—Captain John Smith, and his Romantic Adventures—Saved by an Indian Girl— St. Sepulchre's Churchyard—Accommodation for a Murderess—The Martyr Rogers—An Odd Circumstance—Good Company for the Dead—A Leap from the Tower—A Warning Bell and a Last Admonition—Nosegays for the Condemned—The Route to the Gallows-tree— The Deeds of the Charitable—The "Saracen's Head"—Description by Dickens—Giltspur Street—Giltspur Street Compter—A Disreputable Condition—Pie Corner—Hosier Lane—A Spurious Relic—The Conduit on Snow Hill—A Ladies' Charity School—Turnagain Lane—Poor Betty!—A Schoolmistress Censured—Skinner Street—Unpropitious Fortune—William Godwin—An Original Married Life.
Many interesting associations—Principally, however, connected with the annals of crime and the execution of the laws of England—belong to the Church of St. Sepulchre, or St. 'Pulchre. This sacred edifice—anciently known as St. Sepulchre's in the Bailey, or by Chamberlain Gate (now Newgate)—stands at the eastern end of the slight acclivity of Snow Hill, and between Smithfield and the Old Bailey. The genuine materials for its early history are scanty enough. It was probably founded about the commencement of the twelfth century, but of the exact date and circumstances of its origin there is no record whatever. Its name is derived from the Holy Sepulchre of our Saviour at Jerusalem, to the memory of which it was first dedicated.
The earliest authentic notice of the church, according to Maitland, is of the year 1178, at which date it was given by Roger, Bishop of Sarum, to the Prior and Canons of St. Bartholomew. These held the right of advowson until the dissolution of monasteries by Henry VIII., and from that time until 1610 it remained in the hands of the Crown. James I., however, then granted "the rectory and its appurtenances, with the advowson of the vicarage," to Francis Phillips and others. The next stage in its history is that the rectory was purchased by the parishioners, to be held in fee-farm of the Crown, and the advowson was obtained by the President and Fellows of St. John the Baptist College, at Oxford.
The church was rebuilt about the middle of the fifteenth century, when one of the Popham family, who had been Chancellor of Normandy and Treasurer of the King's Household, with distinguished liberality erected a handsome chapel on the south side of the choir, and the very beautiful porch still remaining at the south-west corner of the building. "His image," Stow says, "fair graven in stone, was fixed over the said porch."
The dreadful fire of 1666 almost destroyed St. Sepulchre's, but the parishioners set energetically to work, and it was "rebuilt and beautified both within and without." The general reparation was under the direction of Sir Christopher Wren, and nothing but the walls of the old building, and these not entirely, were suffered to remain. The work was done rapidly, and the whole was completed within four years.
"The tower," says Mr. Godwin, "retained its original aspect, and the body of the church, after its restoration, presented a series of windows between buttresses, with pointed heads filled with tracery, crowned by a string-course and battlements. In this form it remained till the year 1790, when it appears the whole fabric was found to be in a state of great decay, and it was resolved to repair it throughout. Accordingly the walls of the church were cased with Portland stone, and all the windows were taken out and replaced by others with plain semi-circular heads, as now seen—certainly agreeing but badly with the tower and porch of the building, but according with the then prevailing spirit of economy. The battlements, too, were taken down, and a plain stone parapet was substituted, so that at this time (with the exception of the roof, which was wagon-headed, and presented on the outside an unsightly swell, visible above the parapet) the church assumed its present appearance." The ungainly roof was removed, and an entirely new one erected, about 1836.
At each corner of the tower—"one of the most ancient," says the author of "Londinium Redivivum," "in the outline of the circuit of London" —there are spires, and on the spires there are weathercocks. These have been made use of by Howell to point a moral: "Unreasonable people," says he, "are as hard to reconcile as the vanes of St. Sepulchre's tower, which never look all four upon one point of the heavens." Nothing can be said with certainty as to the date of the tower, but it is not without the bounds of probability that it formed part of the original building. The belfry is reached by a small winding staircase in the south-west angle, and a similar staircase in an opposite angle leads to the summit. The spires at the corners, and some of the tower windows, have very recently undergone several alterations, which have added much to the picturesqueness and beauty of the church.
The chief entrance to St. Sepulchre's is by a porch of singular beauty, projecting from the south side of the tower, at the western end of the church. The groining of the ceiling of this porch, it has been pointed out, takes an almost unique form; the ribs are carved in bold relief, and the bosses at the intersections represent angels' heads, shields, roses, &c., in great variety.
Coming now to the interior of the church, we find it divided into three aisles, by two ranges of Tuscan columns. The aisles are of unequal widths, that in the centre being the widest, that to the south the narrowest. Semi-circular arches connect the columns on either side, springing directly from their capitals, without the interposition of an entablature, and support a large dental cornice, extending round the church. The ceiling of the middle aisle is divided into seven compartments, by horizontal bands, the middle compartment being formed into a small dome.
The aisles have groined ceilings, ornamented at the angles with doves, &c., and beneath every division of the groining are small windows, to admit light to the galleries. Over each of the aisles there is a gallery, very clumsily introduced, which dates from the time when the church was built by Wren, and extends the whole length, excepting at the chancel. The front of the gallery, which is of oak, is described by Mr. Godwin as carved into scrolls, branches, &c., in the centre panel, on either side, with the initials "C. R.," enriched with carvings of laurel, which have, however, he says, "but little merit."
At the east end of the church there are three semicircular-headed windows. Beneath the centre one is a large Corinthian altar-piece of oak, displaying columns, entablatures, &c., elaborately carved and gilded.
The length of the church, exclusive of the ambulatory, is said to be 126 feet, the breadth 68 feet, and the height of the tower 140 feet.
A singularly ugly sounding-board, extending over the preacher, used to stand at the back of the pulpit, at the east end of the church. It was in the shape of a large parabolic reflector, about twelve feet in diameter, and was composed of ribs of mahogany.
At the west end of the church there is a large organ, said to be the oldest and one of the finest in London. It was built in 1677, and has been greatly enlarged. Its reed-stops (hautboy, clarinet, &c.) are supposed to be unrivalled. In Newcourt's time the church was taken notice of as "remarkable for possessing an exceedingly fine organ, and the playing is thought so beautiful, that large congregations are attracted, though some of the parishioners object to the mode of performing divine service."
On the north side of the church, Mr. Godwin mentions, is a large apartment known as "St. Stephen's Chapel." This building evidently formed a somewhat important part of the old church, and was probably appropriated to the votaries of the saint whose name it bears.
Between the exterior and the interior of the church there is little harmony. "For example," says Mr. Godwin, "the columns which form the south aisle face, in some instances, the centre of the large windows which occur in the external wall of the church, and in others the centre of the piers, indifferently." This discordance may likely enough have arisen from the fact that when the church was rebuilt, or rather restored, after the Great Fire, the works were done without much attention from Sir Christopher Wren.
St. Sepulchre's appears to have enjoyed considerable popularity from the earliest period of its history, if one is to judge from the various sums left by well-disposed persons for the support of certain fraternities founded in the church—namely, those of St. Katherine, St. Michael, St. Anne, and Our Lady—and by others, for the maintenance of chantry priests to celebrate masses at stated intervals for the good of their souls. One of the fraternities just named—that of St. Katherine— originated, according to Stow, in the devotion of some poor persons in the parish, and was in honour of the conception of the Virgin Mary. They met in the church on the day of the Conception, and there had the mass of the day, and offered to the same, and provided a certain chaplain daily to celebrate divine service, and to set up wax lights before the image belonging to the fraternity, on all festival days.
The most famous of all who have been interred in St. Sepulchre's is Roger Ascham, the author of the "Schoolmaster," and the instructor of Queen Elizabeth in Greek and Latin. This learned old worthy was born in 1515, near Northallerton, in Yorkshire. He was educated at Cambridge University, and in time rose to be the university orator, being notably zealous in promoting what was then a novelty in England—the study of the Greek language. To divert himself after the fatigue of severe study, he used to devote himself to archery. This drew down upon him the censure of the all-work-and-no-play school; and in defence of himself, Ascham, in 1545, published "Toxophilus," a treatise on his favourite sport. This book is even yet well worthy of perusal, for its enthusiasm, and for its curious descriptions of the personal appearance and manners of the principal persons whom the author had seen and conversed with. Henry VIII. rewarded him with a pension of £10 per annum, a considerable sum in those days. In 1548, Ascham, on the death of William Grindall, who had been his pupil, was appointed instructor in the learned languages to Lady Elizabeth, afterwards the good Queen Bess. At the end of two years he had some dispute with, or took a disgust at, Lady Elizabeth's attendants, resigned his situation, and returned to his college. Soon after this he was employed as secretary to the English ambassador at the court of Charles V. of Germany, and remained abroad till the death of Edward VI. During his absence he had been appointed Latin secretary to King Edward. Strangely enough, though Queen Mary and her ministers were Papists, and Ascham a Protestant, he was retained in his office of Latin secretary, his pension was increased to £20, and he was allowed to retain his fellowship and his situation as university orator. In 1554 he married a lady of good family, by whom he had a considerable fortune, and of whom, in writing to a friend, he gives, as might perhaps be expected, an excellent character. On the accession of Queen Elizabeth, in 1558, she not only required his services as Latin secretary, but as her instructor in Greek, and he resided at Court during the remainder of his life. He died in consequence of his endeavours to complete a Latin poem which he intended to present to the queen on the New Year's Day of 1569. He breathed his last two days before 1568 ran out, and was interred, according to his own directions, in the most private manner, in St. Sepulchre's Church, his funeral sermon being preached by Dr. Andrew Nowell, Dean of St. Paul's. He was universally lamented; and even the queen herself not only showed great concern, but was pleased to say that she would rather have lost ten thousand pounds than her tutor Ascham, which, from that somewhat closehanded sovereign, was truly an expression of high regard.
Ascham, like most men, had his little weaknesses. He had too great a propensity to dice and cock-fighting. Bishop Nicholson would try to convince us that this is an unfounded calumny, but, as it is mentioned by Camden, and other contemporary writers, it seems impossible to deny it. He died, from all accounts, in indifferent circumstances. "Whether," says Dr. Johnson, referring to this, "Ascham was poor by his own fault, or the fault of others, cannot now be decided; but it is certain that many have been rich with less merit. His philological learning would have gained him honour in any country; and among us it may justly call for that reverence which all nations owe to those who first rouse them from ignorance, and kindle among them the light of literature." His most valuable work, "The Schoolmaster," was published by his widow. The nature of this celebrated performance may be gathered from the title: "The Schoolmaster; or a plain and perfite way of teaching children to understand, write, and speak the Latin tongue. … And commodious also for all such as have forgot the Latin tongue, and would by themselves, without a schoolmaster, in short time, and with small pains, recover a sufficient habilitie to understand, write, and speak Latin: by Roger Ascham, ann. 1570. At London, printed by John Daye, dwelling over Aldersgate," a printer, by the way, already mentioned by us a few chapters back (see page 208), as having printed several noted works of the sixteenth century.
Dr. Johnson remarks that the instruction recommended in "The Schoolmaster" is perhaps the best ever given for the study of languages.
Here also lies buried Captain John Smith, a conspicuous soldier of fortune, whose romantic adventures and daring exploits have rarely been surpassed. He died on the 21st of June, 1631. This valiant captain was born at Willoughby, in the county of Lincoln, and helped by his doings to enliven the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. He had a share in the wars of Hungary in 1602, and in three single combats overcame three Turks, and cut off their heads. For this, and other equally brave deeds, Sigismund, Duke of Transylvania, gave him his picture set in gold, with a pension of three hundred ducats; and allowed him to bear three Turks' heads proper as his shield of arms. He afterwards went to America, where he had the misfortune to fall into the hands of the Indians. He escaped from them, however, at last, and resumed his brilliant career by hazarding his life in naval engagements with pirates and Spanish men-of-war. The most important act of his life was the share he had in civilising the natives of New England, and reducing that province to obedience to Great Britain. In connection with his tomb in St. Sepulchre's, he is mentioned by Stow, in his "Survey," as "some time Governor of Virginia and Admiral of New England."
Certainly the most interesting events of his chequered career were his capture by the Indians, and the saving of his life by the Indian girl Pocahontas, a story of adventure that charms as often as it is told. Bancroft, the historian of the United States, relates how, during the early settlement of Virginia, Smith left the infant colony on an exploring expedition, and not only ascended the river Chickahominy, but struck into the interior. His companions disobeyed his instructions, and being surprised by the Indians, were put to death. Smith preserved his own life by calmness and self-possession. Displaying a pocket-compass, he amused the savages by an explanation of its power, and increased their admiration of his superior genius by imparting to them some vague conceptions of the form of the earth, and the nature of the planetary system. To the Indians, who retained him as their prisoner, his captivity was a more strange event than anything of which the traditions of their tribes preserved the memory. He was allowed to send a letter to the fort at Jamestown, and the savage wonder was increased, for he seemed by some magic to endow the paper with the gift of intelligence. It was evident that their captive was a being of a high order, and then the question arose, Was his nature beneficent, or was he to be dreaded as a dangerous enemy? Their minds were bewildered, and the decision of his fate was referred to the chief Powhatan, and before Powhatan Smith was brought. "The fears of the feeble aborigines," says Bancroft, "were about to prevail, and his immediate death, already repeatedly threatened and repeatedly delayed, would have been inevitable, but for the timely intercession of Pocahontas, a girl twelve years old, the daughter of Powhatan, whose confiding fondness Smith had easily won, and who firmly clung to his neck, as his head was bowed down to receive the stroke of the tomahawks. His fearlessness, and her entreaties, persuaded the council to spare the agreeable stranger, who could make hatchets for her father, and rattles and strings of beads for herself, the favourite child. The barbarians, whose decision had long been held in suspense by the mysterious awe which Smith had inspired, now resolved to receive him as a friend, and to make him a partner of their councils. They tempted him to join their bands, and lend assistance in an attack upon the white men at Jamestown; and when his decision of character succeeded in changing the current of their thoughts, they dismissed him with mutual promises of friendship and benevolence. Thus the captivity of Smith did itself become a benefit to the colony; for he had not only observed with care the country between the James and the Potomac, and had gained some knowledge of the language and manners of the natives, but he now established a peaceful intercourse between the English and the tribes of Powhatan."
On the monument erected to Smith in St. Sepulchre's Church, the following quaint lines were formerly inscribed:—
"Here lies one conquered that hath conquered kings,
Subdued large territories, and done things
Which to the world impossible would seem,
But that the truth is held in more esteem.
Shall I report his former service done,
In honour of his God, and Christendom?
How that he did divide, from pagans three,
Their heads and lives, types of his chivalry?—
For which great service, in that climate done,
Brave Sigismundus, King of Hungarion,
Did give him, as a coat of arms, to wear
These conquered heads, got by his sword and spear.
Or shall I tell of his adventures since
Done in Virginia, that large continent?
How that he subdued kings unto his yoke,
And made those heathens flee, as wind doth smoke;
And made their land, being so large a station,
An habitation for our Christian nation,
Where God is glorified, their wants supplied;
Which else for necessaries, must have died.
But what avails his conquests, now he lies
Interred in earth, a prey to worms and flies?
Oh! may his soul in sweet Elysium sleep,
Until the Keeper, that all souls doth keep,
Return to judgment; and that after thence
With angels he may have his recompense."
Sir Robert Peake, the engraver, also found a last resting-place here. He is known as the master of William Faithorne—the famous English engraver of the seventeenth century—and governor of Basing House for the king during the Civil War under Charles I. He died in 1667. Here also was interred the body of Dr. Bell, grandfather of the originator of a well-known system of education.
"The churchyard of St. Sepulchre's," we learn from Maitland, "at one time extended so far into the street on the south side of the church, as to render the passage-way dangerously narrow. In 1760 the churchyard was, in consequence, levelled, and thrown open to the public. But this led to much inconvenience, and it was re-enclosed in 1802."
Sarah Malcolm, the murderess, was buried in the churchyard of St. Sepulchre's in 1733. This coldhearted and keen-eyed monster in human form has had her story told by us already. The parishioners seem, on this occasion, to have had no such scruples as had been exhibited by their predecessors a hundred and fifty years previous at the burial of Awfield, a traitor. We shall see presently that in those more remote days they were desirous of having at least respectable company for their deceased relatives and friends in the churchyard.
"For a long period," says Mr. Godwin (1838), "the church was surrounded by low mean buildings, by which its general appearance was hidden; but these having been cleared away, and the neighbourhood made considerably more open, St. Sepulchre's now forms a somewhat pleasing object, notwithstanding that the tower and a part of the porch are so entirely dissimilar in style to the remainder of the building." And since Godwin's writing the surroundings of the church have been so improved that perhaps few buildings in the metropolis stand more prominently before the public eye.
In the glorious roll of martyrs who have suffered at the stake for their religious principles, a vicar of St. Sepulchre's, the Reverend John Rogers, occupies a conspicuous place. He was the first who was burned in the reign of the Bloody Mary. This eminent person had at one time been chaplain to the English merchants at Antwerp, and while residing in that city had aided Tindal and Coverdale in their great work of translating the Bible. He married a German lady of good position, by whom he had a large family, and was enabled, by means of her relations, to reside in peace and safety in Germany. It appeared to be his duty, however, to return to England, and there publicly profess and advocate his religious convictions, even at the risk of death. He crossed the sea; he took his place in the pulpit at St. Paul's Cross; he preached a fearless and animated sermon, reminding his astonished audience of the pure and wholesome doctrine which had been promulgated from that pulpit in the days of the good King Edward, and solemnly warning them against the pestilent idolatry and superstition of these new times. It was his last sermon. He was apprehended, tried, condemned, and burned at Smithfield. We described, when speaking of Smithfield, the manner in which he met his fate.
Connected with the martyrdom of Rogers an odd circumstance is quoted in the "Churches of London." It is stated that when the bishops had resolved to put to death Joan Bocher, a friend came to Rogers and earnestly entreated his influence that the poor woman's life might be spared, and other means taken to prevent the spread of her heterodox doctrines. Rogers, however, contended that she should be executed; and his friend then begged him to choose some other kind of death, which should be more agreeable to the gentleness and mercy prescribed in the gospel. "No," replied Rogers, "burning alive is not a cruel death, but easy enough." His friend hearing these words, expressive of so little regard for the sufferings of a fellow-creature, answered him with great vehemence, at the same time striking Rogers' hand, "Well, it may perhaps so happen that you yourself shall have your hands full of this mild burning." There is no record of Rogers among the papers belonging to St. Sepulchre's, but this may easily be accounted for by the fact that at the Great Fire of 1666 nearly all the registers and archives were destroyed.
A noteworthy incident in the history of St. Sepulchre's was connected with the execution, in 1585, of Awfield, for "sparcinge abrood certen lewed, sedicious, and traytorous bookes." "When he was executed," says Fleetwood, the Recorder, in a letter to Lord Burleigh, July 7th of that year, "his body was brought unto St. Pulcher's to be buryed, but the parishioners would not suffer a traytor's corpse to be laid in the earth where their parents, wives, children, kindred, masters, and old neighbours did rest; and so his carcass was returned to the burial-ground near Tyburn, and there I leave it."
Another event in the history of the church is a tale of suicide. On the 10th of April, 1600, a man named William Dorrington threw himself from the roof of the tower, leaving there a prayer for forgiveness.
We come now to speak of the connection of St. Sepulchre's with the neighbouring prison of Newgate. Being the nearest church to the prison, that connection naturally was intimate. Its clock served to give the time to the hangman when there was an execution in the Old Bailey, and many a poor wretch's last moments must it have regulated.
On the right-hand side of the altar a board with a list of charitable donations and gifts used to contain the following item:—"1605. Mr. Robert Dowe gave, for ringing the greatest bell in this church on the day the condemned prisoners are executed, and for other services, for ever, concerning such condemned prisoners, for which services the sexton is paid £16s. 8d.—£50.
It was formerly the practice for the clerk or bellman of St. Sepulchre's to go under Newgate, on the night preceding the execution of a criminal, ring his bell, and repeat the following wholesome advice:—
"All you that in the condemned hold do lie,
Prepare you, for to-morrow you shall die;
Watch all, and pray, the hour is drawing near
That you before the Almighty must appear;
Examine well yourselves, in time repent,
That you may not to eternal flames be sent.
And when St. Sepulchre's bell to-morrow tolls,
The Lord above have mercy on your souls.
Past twelve o'clock!"
This practice is explained by a passage in Munday's edition of Stow, in which it is told that a Mr. John Dowe, citizen and merchant taylor of London, gave £50 to the parish church of St. Sepulchre's, under the following conditions:—After the several sessions of London, on the night before the execution of such as were condemned to death, the clerk of the church was to go in the night-time, and also early in the morning, to the window of the prison in which they were lying. He was there to ring "certain tolls with a hand-bell" appointed for the purpose, and was afterwards, in a most Christian manner, to put them in mind of their present condition and approaching end, and to exhort them to be prepared, as they ought to be, to die. When they were in the cart, and brought before the walls of the church, the clerk was to stand there ready with the same bell, and, after certain tolls, rehearse a prayer, desiring all the people there present to pray for the unfortunate criminals. The beadle, also, of Merchant Taylors' Hall was allowed an "honest stipend" to see that this ceremony was regularly performed.
The affecting admonition—"affectingly good," Pennant calls it—addressed to the prisoners in Newgate, on the night before execution, ran as follows:—
"You prisoners that are within,
Who, for wickedness and sin,
after many mercies shown you, are now appointed to die to-morrow in the forenoon; give ear and understand that, to-morrow morning, the greatest bell of St. Sepulchre's shall toll for you, in form and manner of a passing-bell, as used to be tolled for those that are at the point of death; to the end that all godly people, hearing that bell, and knowing it is for your going to your deaths, may be stirred up heartily to pray to God to bestow his grace and mercy upon you, whilst you live. I beseech you, for Jesus Christ's sake, to keep this night in watching and prayer, to the salvation of your own souls while there is yet time and place for mercy; as knowing to-morrow you must appear before the judgment-seat of your Creator, there to give an account of all things done in this life, and to suffer eternal torments for your sins committed against Him, unless, upon your hearty and unfeigned repentance, you find mercy through the merits, death, and passion of your only Mediator and Advocate, Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return to Him."
And the following was the admonition to condemned criminals, as they were passing by St. Sepulchre's Church wall to execution:—" All good people, pray heartily unto God for these poor sinners, who are now going to their death, for whom this great bell doth toll.
"You that are condemned to die, repent with lamentable tears; ask mercy of the Lord, for the salvation of your own souls, through the [merits, death, and passion of Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return unto Him.
"Lord have mercy upon you;
Christ have mercy upon you.
Lord have mercy upon you;
Christ have mercy upon you."
The charitable Mr. Dowe, who took such interest in the last moments of the occupants of the condemned cell, was buried in the church of St. Botolph, Aldgate.
Another curious custom observed at St. Sepulchre's was the presentation of a nosegay to every criminal on his way to execution at Tyburn. No doubt the practice had its origin in some kindly feeling for the poor unfortunates who were so soon to bid farewell to all the beauties of earth. One of the last who received a nosegay from the steps of St. Sepulchre's was "Sixteen-string Jack," alias John Rann, who was hanged, in 1774, for robbing the Rev. Dr. Bell of his watch and eighteen pence in money, in Gunnersbury Lane, on the road to Brentford. Sixteen-string Jack wore the flowers in his button-hole as he rode dolefully to the gallows. This was witnessed by John Thomas Smith, who thus describes the scene in his admirable anecdotebook, "Nollekens and his Times:"—" I remember well, when I was in my eighth year, Mr. Nollekens calling at my father's house, in Great Portland Street, and taking us to Oxford Street, to see the notorious Jack Rann, commonly called Sixteenstring Jack, go to Tyburn to be hanged. … The criminal was dressed in a pea-green coat, with an immense nosegay in the button-hole, which had been presented to him at St. Sepulchre's steps; and his nankeen small-clothes, we were told, were tied at each knee with sixteen strings. After he had passed, and Mr. Nollekens was leading me home by the hand, I recollect his stooping down to me and observing, in a low tone of voice, 'Tom, now, my little man, if my father-in-law, Mr. Justice Welch, had been high constable, we could have walked by the side of the cart all the way to Tyburn.'"
When criminals were conveyed from Newgate to Tyburn, the cart passed up Giltspur Street, and through Smithfield, to Cow Lane. Skinner Street had not then been built, and the Crooked Lane which turned down by St. Sepulchre's, as well as Ozier Lane, did not afford sufficient width to admit of the cavalcade passing by either of them, with convenience, to Holborn Hill, or "the Heavy Hill," as it used to be called. The procession seems at no time to have had much of the solemn element about it. "The heroes of the day were often," says a popular writer, "on good terms with the mob, and jokes were exchanged between the men who were going to be hanged and the men who deserved to be."
"On St. Paul's Day," says Mr. Timbs (1868), "service is performed in St. Sepulchre's, in accordance with the will of Mr. Paul Jervis, who, in 1717, devised certain land in trust that a sermon should be preached in the church upon every Paul's Day upon the excellence of the liturgy o the Church of England; the preacher to receive 40s. for such sermon. Various sums are also bequeathed to the curate, the clerk, the treasurer, and masters of the parochial schools. To the poor of the parish he bequeathed 20s. a-piece to ten of the poorest householders within that part of the parish of St. Sepulchre commonly called Smithfield quarter, £4 to the treasurer of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, and 6s. 8d. yearly to the clerk, who shall attend to receive the same. The residue of the yearly rents and profits is to be distributed unto and amongst such poor people of the parish of St. Sepulchre's, London, who shall attend the service and sermon. At the close of the service the vestry-clerk reads aloud an extract from the will, and then proceeds to the distribution of the money. In the evening the vicar, churchwardens, and common councilmen of the precinct dine together."
In 1749, a Mr. Drinkwater made a praiseworthy bequest. He left the parish of St. Sepulchre £500 to be lent in sums of £25 to industrious young tradesmen. No interest was to be charged, and the money was to be lent for four years.
Next to St. Sepulchre's, on Snow Hill, used to stand the famous old inn of the "Saracen's Head." It was only swept away within the last few years by the ruthless army of City improvers: a view of it in course of demolition was given on page 439. It was one of the oldest of the London inns which bore the "Saracen's Head" for a sign. One of Dick Tarlton's jests makes mention of the "Saracen's Head" without Newgate, and Stow, describing this neighbourhood, speaks particularly of "a fair large inn for receipt of travellers" that "hath to sign the 'Saracen's Head.'" The courtyard had, to the last, many of the characteristics of an old English inn; there were galleries all round leading to the bedrooms, and a spacious gateway through which the dusty mail-coaches used to rumble, the tired passengers creeping forth "thanking their stars in having escaped the highwaymen and the holes and sloughs of the road." Into that courtyard how many have come on their first arrival in London with hearts beating high with hope, some of whom have risen to be aldermen and sit in state as lord mayor, whilst others have gone the way of the idle apprentice and come to a sad end at Tyburn! It was at this inn that Nicholas Nickleby and his uncle waited upon the Yorkshire schoolmaster Squeers, of Dotheboys Hall. Mr. Dickens describes the tavern as it existed in the last days of mail-coaching, when it was a most important place for arrivals and departures in London:—
"Next to the jail, and by consequence near to Smithfield also, and the Compter and the bustle and noise of the City, and just on that particular part of Snow Hill where omnibus horses going eastwards seriously think of falling down on purpose, and where horses in hackney cabriolets going westwards not unfrequently fall by accident, is the coach-yard of the 'Saracen's Head' inn, its portals guarded by two Saracen's heads and shoulders, which it was once the pride and glory of the choice spirits of this metropolis to pull down at night, but which have for some time remained in undisturbed tranquillity, possibly because this species of humour is now confined to St. James's parish, where doorknockers are preferred as being more portable, and bell-wires esteemed as convenient tooth-picks. Whether this be the reason or not, there they are, frowning upon you from each side of the gateway; and the inn itself, garnished with another Saracen's head, frowns upon you from the top of the yard; while from the door of the hind-boot of all the red coaches that are standing therein, there glares a small Saracen's head with a twin expression to the large Saracen's head below, so that the general appearance of the pile is of the Saracenic order."
To explain the use of the Saracen's head as an inn sign various reasons have been given. "When our countrymen," says Selden, "came home from fighting with the Saracens and were beaten by them, they pictured them with huge, big, terrible faces (as you still see the 'Saracen's Head' is), when in truth they were like other men. But this they did to save their own credit." Or the sign may have been adopted by those who had visited the Holy Land either as pilgrims or to fight the Saracens. Others, again, hold that it was first set up in compliment to the mother of Thomas à Becket, who was the daughter of a Saracen. However this may be, it is certain that the use of the sign in former days was very general.
Running past the east end of St. Sepulchre's, from Newgate into West Smithfield, is Giltspur Street, anciently called Knightriders Street. This interesting thoroughfare derives its name from the knights with their gilt spurs having been accustomed to ride this way to the jousts and tournaments which in days of old were held in Smithfield.
In this street was Giltspur Street Compter, a debtors' prison and house of correction appertaining to the sheriffs of London and Middlesex. It stood over against St. Sepulchre's Church, and was removed hither from the east side of Wood Street, Cheapside, in 1791. At the time of its removal it was used as a place of imprisonment for debtors, but the yearly increasing demands upon the contracted space caused that department to be given up, and City debtors were sent to Whitecross Street. The architect was Dance, to whom we are also indebted for the grim pile of Newgate. The Compter was a dirty and appropriately convictlooking edifice. It was pulled down in 1855. Mr. Hepworth Dixon gave an interesting account of this City House of Correction, not long before its demolition, in his "London Prisons" (1850). "Entering," he says, "at the door facing St. Sepulchre's, the visitor suddenly finds himself in a low dark passage, leading into the offices of the gaol, and branching off into other passages, darker, closer, more replete with noxious smells, than even those of Newgate. This is the fitting prelude to what follows. The prison, it must be noticed, is divided into two principal divisions, the House of Correction and the Compter. The front in Giltspur Street, and the side nearest to Newgate Street, is called the Compter. In its wards are placed detenues of various kinds—remands, committals from the police-courts, and generally persons waiting for trial, and consequently still unconvicted. The other department, the House of Correction, occupies the back portion of the premises, abutting on Christ's Hospital. Curious it is to consider how thin a wall divides these widely-separate worlds! And sorrowful it is to think what a difference of destiny awaits the children—destiny inexorable, though often unearned in either case—who, on the one side of it or the other, receive an eleemosynary education! The collegian and the criminal! Who shall say how much mere accident— circumstances over which the child has little power —determines to a life of usefulness or mischief? From the yards of Giltspur Street prison almost the only objects visible, outside of the gaol itself, are the towers of Christ's Hospital; the only sounds audible, the shouts of the scholars at their play. The balls of the hospital boys often fall within the yards of the prison. Whether these sights and sounds ever cause the criminal to pause and reflect upon the courses of his life, we will not say, but the stranger visiting the place will be very apt to think for him. …
"In the department of the prison called the House of Correction, minor offenders within the City of London are imprisoned. No transports are sent hither, nor is any person whose sentence is above three years in length." This able writer then goes on to tell of the many crying evils connected with the institution—the want of air, the over-crowded state of the rooms, the absence of proper cellular accommodation, and the vicious intercourse carried on amongst the prisoners. The entire gaol, when he wrote, only contained thirty-six separate sleeping-rooms. Now by the highest prison calculation—and this, be it noted, proceeds on the assumption that three persons can sleep in small, miserable, unventilated cells, which are built for only one, and are too confined for that, being only about one-half the size of the model cell for one at Pentonville—it was only capable of accommodating 203 prisoners, yet by the returns issued at Michaelmas, 1850, it contained 246!
A large section of the prison used to be devoted to female delinquents, but lately it was almost entirely given up to male offenders.
"The House of Correction, and the Compter portion of the establishment," says Mr. Dixon, "are kept quite distinct, but it would be difficult to award the palm of empire in their respective facilities for demoralisation. We think the Compter rather the worse of the two. You are shown into a room, about the size of an apartment in an ordinary dwelling-house, which will be found crowded with from thirty to forty persons, young and old, and in their ordinary costume; the low thief in his filth and rags, and the member of the swell-mob with his bright buttons, flash finery, and false jewels. Here you notice the boy who has just been guilty of his first offence, and committed for trial, learning with a greedy mind a thousand criminal arts, and listening with the precocious instinct of guilty passions to stories and conversations the most depraved and disgusting. You regard him with a mixture of pity and loathing, for he knows that the eyes of his peers are upon him, and he stares at you with a familiar impudence, and exhibits a devil-may-care countenance, such as is only to be met with in the juvenile offender. Here, too, may be seen the young clerk, taken up on suspicion—perhaps innocent—who avoids you with a shy look of pain and uneasiness: what a hell must this prison be to him! How frightful it is to think of a person really untainted with crime, compelled to herd for ten or twenty days with these abandoned wretches!
"On the other, the House of Correction side of the gaol, similar rooms will be found, full of prisoners communicating with each other, laughing and shouting without hindrance. All this is so little in accordance with existing notions of prison discipline, that one is continually fancying these disgraceful scenes cannot be in the capital of England, and in the year of grace 1850. Very few of the prisoners attend school or receive any instruction; neither is any kind of employment afforded them, except oakum-picking, and the still more disgusting labour of the treadmill. When at work, an officer is in attendance to prevent disorderly conduct; but his presence is of no avail as a protection to the less depraved. Conversation still goes on; and every facility is afforded for making acquaintances, and for mutual contamination."
After having long been branded by intelligent inspectors as a disgrace to the metropolis, Giltspur Street Compter was condemned, closed in 1854, and subsequently taken down.
Nearly opposite what used to be the site of the Compter, and adjoining Cock Lane, is the spot called Pie Corner, near which terminated the Great Fire of 1666. The fire commenced at Pudding Lane, it will be remembered, so it was singularly appropriate that it should terminate at Pie Corner. Under the date of 4th September, 1666, Pepys, in his "Diary," records that "W. Hewer this day went to see how his mother did, and comes home late, telling us how he hath been forced to remove her to Islington, her house in Pye Corner being burned; so that the fire is got so far that way." The figure of a fat naked boy stands over a public house at the corner of the lane; it used to have the following warning inscription attached:— "This boy is in memory put up of the late fire of London, occasioned by the sin of gluttony, 1666." According to Stow, Pie Corner derived its name from the sign of a well-frequented hostelry, which anciently stood on the spot. Strype makes honourable mention of Pie Corner, as "noted chiefly for cooks' shops and pigs dressed there during Bartholomew Fair." Our old writers have many references—and not all, by the way, in the best taste—to its cookstalls and dressed pork. Shadwell, for instance, in the Woman Captain (1680) speaks of "meat dressed at Pie Corner by greasy scullions;" and Ben Jonson writes in the Alchemist (1612)—
"I shall put you in mind, sir, at Pie Corner,
Taking your meal of steam in from cooks' stalls."
And in "The Great Boobee" ("Roxburgh Ballads"):
"Next day I through Pie Corner passed;
The roast meat on the stall
Invited me to take a taste;
My money was but small."
But Pie Corner seems to have been noted for more than eatables. A ballad from Tom D'Urfey's "Pills to Purge Melancholy," describing Bartholomew Fair, eleven years before the Fire of London, says:—
"At Pie-Corner end, mark well my good friend,
'Tis a very fine dirty place;
Where there's more arrows and bows. …
Than was handled at Chivy Chase."
We have already given a view of Pie Corner in our chapter on Smithfield, page 361.
Hosier Lane, running from Cow Lane to Smithfield, and almost parallel to Cock Lane, is described by "R. B.," in Strype, as a place not over-well built or inhabited. The houses were all old timber erections. Some of these—those standing at the south corner of the lane—were in the beginning of this century depicted by Mr. J. T. Smith, in his "Ancient Topography of London." He describes them as probably of the reign of James I. The rooms were small, with low, unornamented ceilings; the timber, oak, profusely used; the gables were plain, and the walls lath and plaster. They were taken down in 1809.
In the corner house, in Mr. Smith's time, there was a barber whose name was Catchpole; at least, so it was written over the door. He was rather an odd fellow, and possessed, according to his own account, a famous relic of antiquity. He would gravely show his customers a short-bladed instrument, as the identical dagger with which Walworth killed Wat Tyler.
Hosier Lane, like Pie Corner, used to be a great resort during the time of Bartholomew Fair, "all the houses," it is said in Strype, "generally being made public for tippling."
We return now from our excursion to the north of St. Sepulchre's, and continue our rambles to the west, and before speaking of what is, let us refer to what has been.
Turnagain Lane is not far from this. "Near unto this Seacoal Lane," remarks Stow, "in the turning towards Holborn Conduit, is Turnagain Lane, or rather, as in a record of the 5th of Edward III., Windagain Lane, for that it goeth down west to Fleet Dyke, from whence men must turn again the same way they came, but there it stopped." There used to be a proverb, "He must take him a house in Turnagain Lane."
A conduit formerly stood on Snow Hill, a little below the church. It is described as a building with four equal sides, ornamented with four columns and pediment, surmounted by a pyramid, on which stood a lamb—a rebus on the name of Lamb, from whose conduit in Red Lion Street the water came. There had been a conduit there, however, before Lamb's day, which was towards the close of the sixteenth century.
At No. 37, King Street, Snow Hill, there used to be a ladies' charity school, which was established in 1702, and remained in the parish 145 years. Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale were subscribers to this school, and Johnson drew from it his story of Betty Broom, in "The Idler." The world of domestic service, in Betty's days, seems to have been pretty much as now. Betty was a poor girl, bred in the country at a charity-school, maintained by the contributions of wealthy neighbours. The patronesses visited the school from time to time, to see how the pupils got on, and everything went well, till "at last, the chief of the subscribers having passed a winter in London, came down full of an opinion new and strange to the whole country. She held it little less than criminal to teach poor girls to read and write. They who are born to poverty, she said, are born to ignorance, and will work the harder the less they know. She told her friends that London was in confusion by the insolence of servants; that scarcely a girl could be got for all-work, since education had made such numbers of fine ladies, that nobody would now accept a lower title than that of a waiting-maid, or something that might qualify her to wear laced shoes and long ruffles, and to sit at work in the parlour window. But she was resolved, for her part, to spoil no more girls. Those who were to live by their hands should neither read nor write out of her pocket. The world was bad enough already, and she would have no part in making it worse.
"She was for a long time warmly opposed; but she persevered in her notions, and withdrew her subscription. Few listen, without a desire of conviction, to those who advise them to spare their money. Her example and her arguments gained ground daily; and in less than a year the whole parish was convinced that the nation would be ruined if the children of the poor were taught to read and write." So the school was dissolved, and Betty with the rest was turned adrift into the wide and cold world; and her adventures there any one may read in "The Idler" for himself.
There is an entry in the school minutes of 1763, to the effect that the ladies of the committee censured the schoolmistress for listening to the story of the Cock Lane ghost, and "desired her to keep her belief in the article to herself."
Skinner Street—now one of the names of the past—which ran by the south side of St. Sepulchre's, and formed the connecting link between Newgate Street and Holborn, received its name from Alderman Skinner, through whose exertions, about 1802, it was principally built. The following account of Skinner Street is from the picturesque pen of Mr. William Harvey ("Aleph"), whose long familiarity with the places he describes renders doubly valuable his many contributions to the history of London scenes and people:—"As a building speculation," he says, writing in 1863, "it was a failure. When the buildings were ready for occupation, tall and substantial as they really were, the high rents frightened intending shopkeepers. Tenants were not to be had; and in order to get over the money difficulty, a lottery, sanctioned by Parliament, was commenced. Lotteries were then common tricks of finance, and nobody wondered at the new venture; but even the most desperate fortune-hunters were slow to invest their capital, and the tickets hung sadly on hand. The day for the drawing was postponed several times, and when it came, there was little or no excitement on the subject, and whoever rejoiced in becoming a house-owner on such easy terms, the original projectors and builders were understood to have suffered considerably. The winners found the property in a very unfinished condition. Few of the dwellings were habitable, and as funds were often wanting, a majority of the houses remained empty, and the shops unopened. After two or three years things began to improve; the vast many-storeyed house which then covered the site of Commercial Place was converted into a warehousing depôt; a capital house opposite the 'Saracen's Head' was taken by a hosier of the name of Theobald, who, opening his shop with the determination of selling the best hosiery, and nothing else, was able to convince the citizens that his hose was first-rate, and, desiring only a living profit, succeeded, after thirty years of unwearied industry, in accumulating a large fortune. Theobald was possessed of literary tastes, and at the sale of Sir Walter Scott's manuscripts was a liberal purchaser. He also collected a library of exceedingly choice books, and when aristocratic customers purchased stockings of him, was soon able to interest them in matters of far higher interest…
"The most remarkable shop—but it was on the left-hand side, at a corner house—was that established for the sale of children's books. It boasted an immense extent of window-front, extending from the entrance into Snow Hill, and towards Fleet Market. Many a time have I lingered with loving eyes over those fascinating story-books, so rich in gaily-coloured prints; such careful editions of the marvellous old histories, 'Puss in Boots,' 'Cock Robin,' 'Cinderella,' and the like. Fortunately the front was kept low, so as exactly to suit the capacity of a childish admirer. . . . . But Skinner Street did not prosper much, and never could compete with even the dullest portions of Holborn. I have spoken of some reputable shops; but you know the proverb, 'One swallow will not make a summer,' and it was a declining neighbourhood almost before it could be called new. In 1810 the commercial depôt, which had been erected at a cost of £25,000, and was the chief prize in the lottery, was destroyed by fire, never to be rebuilt—a heavy blow and discouragement to Skinner Street, from which it never rallied. Perhaps the periodical hanging-days exercised an unfavourable influence, collecting, as they frequently did, all the thieves and vagabonds of London. I never sympathised with Pepys or Charles Fox in their passion for public executions, and made it a point to avoid those ghastly sights; but early of a Monday morning, when I had just reached the end of Giltspur Street, a miserable wretch had just been turned off from the platform of the debtors' door, and I was made the unwilling witness of his last struggles. That scene haunted me for months, and I often used to ask myself, 'Who that could help it would live in Skinner Street?' The next unpropitious event in these parts was the unexpected closing of the child's library. What could it mean? Such a well-to-do establishment shut up? Yes, the whole army of shutters looked blankly on the inquirer, and forbade even a single glance at 'Sinbad' or 'Robinson Crusoe.' It would soon be re-opened, we naturally thought; but the shutters never came down again. The whole house was deserted; not even a messenger in bankruptcy, or an ancient Charley, was found to regard the playful double knocks of the neighbouring juveniles. Gradually the glass of all the windows got broken in, a heavy cloud of black dust, solidifying into inches thick, gathered on sills and doors and brickwork, till the whole frontage grew as gloomy as Giant Despair's Castle. Not long after, the adjoining houses shared the same fate, and they remained from year to year without the slightest sign of life—absolute scarecrows, darkening with their uncomfortable shadows the busy streets. Within half a mile, in Stamford Street, Blackfriars, there are (1863) seven houses in a similar predicament— window-glass demolished, doors cracked from top to bottom, spiders' webs hanging from every projecting sill or parapet. What can it mean? The loss in the article of rents alone must be over £1,000 annually. If the real owners are at feud with imaginary owners, surely the property might be rendered valuable, and the proceeds invested. Even the lawyers can derive no profit from such hopeless abandonment. I am told the whole mischief arose out of a Chancery suit. Can it be the famous 'Jarndyce v. Jarndyce' case? And have all the heirs starved each other out? If so, what hinders our lady the Queen from taking possession? Any change would be an improvement, for these dead houses make the streets they cumber as dispiriting and comfortless as graveyards. Busy fancy will sometimes people them, and fill the dreary rooms with strange guests. Do the victims of guilt congregate in these dark dens? Do wretches 'unfriended by the world or the world's law,' seek refuge in these deserted nooks, mourning in the silence of despair over their former lives, and anticipating the future in unappeasable agony? Such things have been—the silence and desolation of these doomed dwellings make them the more suitable for such tenants."
A street is nothing without a mystery, so a mystery let these old tumble-down houses remain, whilst we go on to tell that, in front of No. 58, the sailor Cashman was hung in 1817, as we have already mentioned, for plundering a gunsmith's shop there. William Godwin, the author of "Caleb Williams," kept a bookseller's shop for several years in Skinner Street, at No. 41, and published school-books in the name of Edward Baldwin. On the wall there was a stone carving of Æsop reciting one of his fables to children.
The most noteworthy event of the life of Godwin was his marriage with the celebrated Mary Wollstonecraft, authoress of a "Vindication of the Rights of Women," whose congenial mind, in politics and morals, he ardently admired. Godwin's account of the way in which they got on together is worth reading:—"Ours," he writes, "was not an idle happiness, a paradise of selfish and transitory pleasures. It is, perhaps, scarcely necessary to mention, that influenced by ideas I had long entertained, I engaged an apartment about twenty doors from our house, in the Polygon, Somers Town, which I designed for the purpose of my study and literary occupations. Trifles, however, will be interesting to some readers, when they relate to the last period of the life of such a person as Mary. I will add, therefore, that we were both of us of opinion, that it was possible for two persons to be too uniformly in each other's society. Influenced by that opinion, it was my practice to repair to the apartment I have mentioned as soon as I rose, and frequently not to make my appearance in the Polygon till the hour of dinner. We agreed in condemning the notion, prevalent in many situations in life, that a man and his wife cannot visit in mixed society but in company with each other, and we rather sought occasions of deviating from than of complying with this rule. By this means, though, for the most part, we spent the latter half of each day in one another's society, yet we were in no danger of satiety. We seemed to combine, in a considerable degree, the novelty and lively sensation of a visit with the more delicious and heartfelt pleasure of a domestic life."
This philosophic union, to Godwin's inexpressible affliction, did not last more than eighteen months, at the end of which time Mrs. Godwin died, leaving an only daughter, who in the course of time became the second wife of the poet Shelley, and was the author of the wild and extraordinary tale of "Frankenstein."
With the rain falling harder, it was a bit of a route march to Holborn and my next church, the stunning St Sepulchre, which was also open.
-----------------------------------------------------
St Sepulchre-without-Newgate, also known as the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (Holborn), is an Anglican church in the City of London. It is located on Holborn Viaduct, almost opposite the Old Bailey. In medieval times it stood just outside ("without") the now-demolished old city wall, near the Newgate. It has been a living of St John's College, Oxford, since 1622.
The original Saxon church on the site was dedicated to St Edmund the King and Martyr. During the Crusades in the 12th century the church was renamed St Edmund and the Holy Sepulchre, in reference to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. The name eventually became contracted to St Sepulchre.
The church is today the largest parish church in the City. It was completely rebuilt in the 15th century but was gutted by the Great Fire of London in 1666,[1] which left only the outer walls, the tower and the porch standing[2] -. Modified in the 18th century, the church underwent extensive restoration in 1878. It narrowly avoided destruction in the Second World War, although the 18th-century watch-house in its churchyard (erected to deter grave-robbers) was completely destroyed and had to be rebuilt.
The interior of the church is a wide, roomy space with a coffered ceiling[3] installed in 1834. The Vicars' old residence has recently been renovated into a modern living quarter.
During the reign of Mary I in 1555, St Sepulchre's vicar, John Rogers, was burned as a heretic.
St Sepulchre is named in the nursery rhyme Oranges and Lemons as the "bells of Old Bailey". Traditionally, the great bell would be rung to mark the execution of a prisoner at the nearby gallows at Newgate. The clerk of St Sepulchre's was also responsible for ringing a handbell outside the condemned man's cell in Newgate Prison to inform him of his impending execution. This handbell, known as the Execution Bell, now resides in a glass case to the south of the nave.
The church has been the official musicians' church for many years and is associated with many famous musicians. Its north aisle (formerly a chapel dedicated to Stephen Harding) is dedicated as the Musicians' Chapel, with four windows commemorating John Ireland, the singer Dame Nellie Melba, Walter Carroll and the conductor Sir Henry Wood respectively.[4] Wood, who "at the age of fourteen, learned to play the organ" at this church [1] and later became its organist, also has his ashes buried in this church.
The south aisle of the church holds the regimental chapel of the Royal Fusiliers (City of London Regiment), and its gardens are a memorial garden to that regiment.[5] The west end of the north aisle has various memorials connected with the City of London Rifles (the 6th Battalion London Regiment). The church was designated a Grade I listed building on 4 January 1950.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Sepulchre-without-Newgate
The Early History of St. Sepulchre's—Its Destruction in 1666—The Exterior and Interior—The Early Popularity of the Church—Interments here—Roger Ascham, the Author of the "Schoolmaster"—Captain John Smith, and his Romantic Adventures—Saved by an Indian Girl— St. Sepulchre's Churchyard—Accommodation for a Murderess—The Martyr Rogers—An Odd Circumstance—Good Company for the Dead—A Leap from the Tower—A Warning Bell and a Last Admonition—Nosegays for the Condemned—The Route to the Gallows-tree— The Deeds of the Charitable—The "Saracen's Head"—Description by Dickens—Giltspur Street—Giltspur Street Compter—A Disreputable Condition—Pie Corner—Hosier Lane—A Spurious Relic—The Conduit on Snow Hill—A Ladies' Charity School—Turnagain Lane—Poor Betty!—A Schoolmistress Censured—Skinner Street—Unpropitious Fortune—William Godwin—An Original Married Life.
Many interesting associations—Principally, however, connected with the annals of crime and the execution of the laws of England—belong to the Church of St. Sepulchre, or St. 'Pulchre. This sacred edifice—anciently known as St. Sepulchre's in the Bailey, or by Chamberlain Gate (now Newgate)—stands at the eastern end of the slight acclivity of Snow Hill, and between Smithfield and the Old Bailey. The genuine materials for its early history are scanty enough. It was probably founded about the commencement of the twelfth century, but of the exact date and circumstances of its origin there is no record whatever. Its name is derived from the Holy Sepulchre of our Saviour at Jerusalem, to the memory of which it was first dedicated.
The earliest authentic notice of the church, according to Maitland, is of the year 1178, at which date it was given by Roger, Bishop of Sarum, to the Prior and Canons of St. Bartholomew. These held the right of advowson until the dissolution of monasteries by Henry VIII., and from that time until 1610 it remained in the hands of the Crown. James I., however, then granted "the rectory and its appurtenances, with the advowson of the vicarage," to Francis Phillips and others. The next stage in its history is that the rectory was purchased by the parishioners, to be held in fee-farm of the Crown, and the advowson was obtained by the President and Fellows of St. John the Baptist College, at Oxford.
The church was rebuilt about the middle of the fifteenth century, when one of the Popham family, who had been Chancellor of Normandy and Treasurer of the King's Household, with distinguished liberality erected a handsome chapel on the south side of the choir, and the very beautiful porch still remaining at the south-west corner of the building. "His image," Stow says, "fair graven in stone, was fixed over the said porch."
The dreadful fire of 1666 almost destroyed St. Sepulchre's, but the parishioners set energetically to work, and it was "rebuilt and beautified both within and without." The general reparation was under the direction of Sir Christopher Wren, and nothing but the walls of the old building, and these not entirely, were suffered to remain. The work was done rapidly, and the whole was completed within four years.
"The tower," says Mr. Godwin, "retained its original aspect, and the body of the church, after its restoration, presented a series of windows between buttresses, with pointed heads filled with tracery, crowned by a string-course and battlements. In this form it remained till the year 1790, when it appears the whole fabric was found to be in a state of great decay, and it was resolved to repair it throughout. Accordingly the walls of the church were cased with Portland stone, and all the windows were taken out and replaced by others with plain semi-circular heads, as now seen—certainly agreeing but badly with the tower and porch of the building, but according with the then prevailing spirit of economy. The battlements, too, were taken down, and a plain stone parapet was substituted, so that at this time (with the exception of the roof, which was wagon-headed, and presented on the outside an unsightly swell, visible above the parapet) the church assumed its present appearance." The ungainly roof was removed, and an entirely new one erected, about 1836.
At each corner of the tower—"one of the most ancient," says the author of "Londinium Redivivum," "in the outline of the circuit of London" —there are spires, and on the spires there are weathercocks. These have been made use of by Howell to point a moral: "Unreasonable people," says he, "are as hard to reconcile as the vanes of St. Sepulchre's tower, which never look all four upon one point of the heavens." Nothing can be said with certainty as to the date of the tower, but it is not without the bounds of probability that it formed part of the original building. The belfry is reached by a small winding staircase in the south-west angle, and a similar staircase in an opposite angle leads to the summit. The spires at the corners, and some of the tower windows, have very recently undergone several alterations, which have added much to the picturesqueness and beauty of the church.
The chief entrance to St. Sepulchre's is by a porch of singular beauty, projecting from the south side of the tower, at the western end of the church. The groining of the ceiling of this porch, it has been pointed out, takes an almost unique form; the ribs are carved in bold relief, and the bosses at the intersections represent angels' heads, shields, roses, &c., in great variety.
Coming now to the interior of the church, we find it divided into three aisles, by two ranges of Tuscan columns. The aisles are of unequal widths, that in the centre being the widest, that to the south the narrowest. Semi-circular arches connect the columns on either side, springing directly from their capitals, without the interposition of an entablature, and support a large dental cornice, extending round the church. The ceiling of the middle aisle is divided into seven compartments, by horizontal bands, the middle compartment being formed into a small dome.
The aisles have groined ceilings, ornamented at the angles with doves, &c., and beneath every division of the groining are small windows, to admit light to the galleries. Over each of the aisles there is a gallery, very clumsily introduced, which dates from the time when the church was built by Wren, and extends the whole length, excepting at the chancel. The front of the gallery, which is of oak, is described by Mr. Godwin as carved into scrolls, branches, &c., in the centre panel, on either side, with the initials "C. R.," enriched with carvings of laurel, which have, however, he says, "but little merit."
At the east end of the church there are three semicircular-headed windows. Beneath the centre one is a large Corinthian altar-piece of oak, displaying columns, entablatures, &c., elaborately carved and gilded.
The length of the church, exclusive of the ambulatory, is said to be 126 feet, the breadth 68 feet, and the height of the tower 140 feet.
A singularly ugly sounding-board, extending over the preacher, used to stand at the back of the pulpit, at the east end of the church. It was in the shape of a large parabolic reflector, about twelve feet in diameter, and was composed of ribs of mahogany.
At the west end of the church there is a large organ, said to be the oldest and one of the finest in London. It was built in 1677, and has been greatly enlarged. Its reed-stops (hautboy, clarinet, &c.) are supposed to be unrivalled. In Newcourt's time the church was taken notice of as "remarkable for possessing an exceedingly fine organ, and the playing is thought so beautiful, that large congregations are attracted, though some of the parishioners object to the mode of performing divine service."
On the north side of the church, Mr. Godwin mentions, is a large apartment known as "St. Stephen's Chapel." This building evidently formed a somewhat important part of the old church, and was probably appropriated to the votaries of the saint whose name it bears.
Between the exterior and the interior of the church there is little harmony. "For example," says Mr. Godwin, "the columns which form the south aisle face, in some instances, the centre of the large windows which occur in the external wall of the church, and in others the centre of the piers, indifferently." This discordance may likely enough have arisen from the fact that when the church was rebuilt, or rather restored, after the Great Fire, the works were done without much attention from Sir Christopher Wren.
St. Sepulchre's appears to have enjoyed considerable popularity from the earliest period of its history, if one is to judge from the various sums left by well-disposed persons for the support of certain fraternities founded in the church—namely, those of St. Katherine, St. Michael, St. Anne, and Our Lady—and by others, for the maintenance of chantry priests to celebrate masses at stated intervals for the good of their souls. One of the fraternities just named—that of St. Katherine— originated, according to Stow, in the devotion of some poor persons in the parish, and was in honour of the conception of the Virgin Mary. They met in the church on the day of the Conception, and there had the mass of the day, and offered to the same, and provided a certain chaplain daily to celebrate divine service, and to set up wax lights before the image belonging to the fraternity, on all festival days.
The most famous of all who have been interred in St. Sepulchre's is Roger Ascham, the author of the "Schoolmaster," and the instructor of Queen Elizabeth in Greek and Latin. This learned old worthy was born in 1515, near Northallerton, in Yorkshire. He was educated at Cambridge University, and in time rose to be the university orator, being notably zealous in promoting what was then a novelty in England—the study of the Greek language. To divert himself after the fatigue of severe study, he used to devote himself to archery. This drew down upon him the censure of the all-work-and-no-play school; and in defence of himself, Ascham, in 1545, published "Toxophilus," a treatise on his favourite sport. This book is even yet well worthy of perusal, for its enthusiasm, and for its curious descriptions of the personal appearance and manners of the principal persons whom the author had seen and conversed with. Henry VIII. rewarded him with a pension of £10 per annum, a considerable sum in those days. In 1548, Ascham, on the death of William Grindall, who had been his pupil, was appointed instructor in the learned languages to Lady Elizabeth, afterwards the good Queen Bess. At the end of two years he had some dispute with, or took a disgust at, Lady Elizabeth's attendants, resigned his situation, and returned to his college. Soon after this he was employed as secretary to the English ambassador at the court of Charles V. of Germany, and remained abroad till the death of Edward VI. During his absence he had been appointed Latin secretary to King Edward. Strangely enough, though Queen Mary and her ministers were Papists, and Ascham a Protestant, he was retained in his office of Latin secretary, his pension was increased to £20, and he was allowed to retain his fellowship and his situation as university orator. In 1554 he married a lady of good family, by whom he had a considerable fortune, and of whom, in writing to a friend, he gives, as might perhaps be expected, an excellent character. On the accession of Queen Elizabeth, in 1558, she not only required his services as Latin secretary, but as her instructor in Greek, and he resided at Court during the remainder of his life. He died in consequence of his endeavours to complete a Latin poem which he intended to present to the queen on the New Year's Day of 1569. He breathed his last two days before 1568 ran out, and was interred, according to his own directions, in the most private manner, in St. Sepulchre's Church, his funeral sermon being preached by Dr. Andrew Nowell, Dean of St. Paul's. He was universally lamented; and even the queen herself not only showed great concern, but was pleased to say that she would rather have lost ten thousand pounds than her tutor Ascham, which, from that somewhat closehanded sovereign, was truly an expression of high regard.
Ascham, like most men, had his little weaknesses. He had too great a propensity to dice and cock-fighting. Bishop Nicholson would try to convince us that this is an unfounded calumny, but, as it is mentioned by Camden, and other contemporary writers, it seems impossible to deny it. He died, from all accounts, in indifferent circumstances. "Whether," says Dr. Johnson, referring to this, "Ascham was poor by his own fault, or the fault of others, cannot now be decided; but it is certain that many have been rich with less merit. His philological learning would have gained him honour in any country; and among us it may justly call for that reverence which all nations owe to those who first rouse them from ignorance, and kindle among them the light of literature." His most valuable work, "The Schoolmaster," was published by his widow. The nature of this celebrated performance may be gathered from the title: "The Schoolmaster; or a plain and perfite way of teaching children to understand, write, and speak the Latin tongue. … And commodious also for all such as have forgot the Latin tongue, and would by themselves, without a schoolmaster, in short time, and with small pains, recover a sufficient habilitie to understand, write, and speak Latin: by Roger Ascham, ann. 1570. At London, printed by John Daye, dwelling over Aldersgate," a printer, by the way, already mentioned by us a few chapters back (see page 208), as having printed several noted works of the sixteenth century.
Dr. Johnson remarks that the instruction recommended in "The Schoolmaster" is perhaps the best ever given for the study of languages.
Here also lies buried Captain John Smith, a conspicuous soldier of fortune, whose romantic adventures and daring exploits have rarely been surpassed. He died on the 21st of June, 1631. This valiant captain was born at Willoughby, in the county of Lincoln, and helped by his doings to enliven the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. He had a share in the wars of Hungary in 1602, and in three single combats overcame three Turks, and cut off their heads. For this, and other equally brave deeds, Sigismund, Duke of Transylvania, gave him his picture set in gold, with a pension of three hundred ducats; and allowed him to bear three Turks' heads proper as his shield of arms. He afterwards went to America, where he had the misfortune to fall into the hands of the Indians. He escaped from them, however, at last, and resumed his brilliant career by hazarding his life in naval engagements with pirates and Spanish men-of-war. The most important act of his life was the share he had in civilising the natives of New England, and reducing that province to obedience to Great Britain. In connection with his tomb in St. Sepulchre's, he is mentioned by Stow, in his "Survey," as "some time Governor of Virginia and Admiral of New England."
Certainly the most interesting events of his chequered career were his capture by the Indians, and the saving of his life by the Indian girl Pocahontas, a story of adventure that charms as often as it is told. Bancroft, the historian of the United States, relates how, during the early settlement of Virginia, Smith left the infant colony on an exploring expedition, and not only ascended the river Chickahominy, but struck into the interior. His companions disobeyed his instructions, and being surprised by the Indians, were put to death. Smith preserved his own life by calmness and self-possession. Displaying a pocket-compass, he amused the savages by an explanation of its power, and increased their admiration of his superior genius by imparting to them some vague conceptions of the form of the earth, and the nature of the planetary system. To the Indians, who retained him as their prisoner, his captivity was a more strange event than anything of which the traditions of their tribes preserved the memory. He was allowed to send a letter to the fort at Jamestown, and the savage wonder was increased, for he seemed by some magic to endow the paper with the gift of intelligence. It was evident that their captive was a being of a high order, and then the question arose, Was his nature beneficent, or was he to be dreaded as a dangerous enemy? Their minds were bewildered, and the decision of his fate was referred to the chief Powhatan, and before Powhatan Smith was brought. "The fears of the feeble aborigines," says Bancroft, "were about to prevail, and his immediate death, already repeatedly threatened and repeatedly delayed, would have been inevitable, but for the timely intercession of Pocahontas, a girl twelve years old, the daughter of Powhatan, whose confiding fondness Smith had easily won, and who firmly clung to his neck, as his head was bowed down to receive the stroke of the tomahawks. His fearlessness, and her entreaties, persuaded the council to spare the agreeable stranger, who could make hatchets for her father, and rattles and strings of beads for herself, the favourite child. The barbarians, whose decision had long been held in suspense by the mysterious awe which Smith had inspired, now resolved to receive him as a friend, and to make him a partner of their councils. They tempted him to join their bands, and lend assistance in an attack upon the white men at Jamestown; and when his decision of character succeeded in changing the current of their thoughts, they dismissed him with mutual promises of friendship and benevolence. Thus the captivity of Smith did itself become a benefit to the colony; for he had not only observed with care the country between the James and the Potomac, and had gained some knowledge of the language and manners of the natives, but he now established a peaceful intercourse between the English and the tribes of Powhatan."
On the monument erected to Smith in St. Sepulchre's Church, the following quaint lines were formerly inscribed:—
"Here lies one conquered that hath conquered kings,
Subdued large territories, and done things
Which to the world impossible would seem,
But that the truth is held in more esteem.
Shall I report his former service done,
In honour of his God, and Christendom?
How that he did divide, from pagans three,
Their heads and lives, types of his chivalry?—
For which great service, in that climate done,
Brave Sigismundus, King of Hungarion,
Did give him, as a coat of arms, to wear
These conquered heads, got by his sword and spear.
Or shall I tell of his adventures since
Done in Virginia, that large continent?
How that he subdued kings unto his yoke,
And made those heathens flee, as wind doth smoke;
And made their land, being so large a station,
An habitation for our Christian nation,
Where God is glorified, their wants supplied;
Which else for necessaries, must have died.
But what avails his conquests, now he lies
Interred in earth, a prey to worms and flies?
Oh! may his soul in sweet Elysium sleep,
Until the Keeper, that all souls doth keep,
Return to judgment; and that after thence
With angels he may have his recompense."
Sir Robert Peake, the engraver, also found a last resting-place here. He is known as the master of William Faithorne—the famous English engraver of the seventeenth century—and governor of Basing House for the king during the Civil War under Charles I. He died in 1667. Here also was interred the body of Dr. Bell, grandfather of the originator of a well-known system of education.
"The churchyard of St. Sepulchre's," we learn from Maitland, "at one time extended so far into the street on the south side of the church, as to render the passage-way dangerously narrow. In 1760 the churchyard was, in consequence, levelled, and thrown open to the public. But this led to much inconvenience, and it was re-enclosed in 1802."
Sarah Malcolm, the murderess, was buried in the churchyard of St. Sepulchre's in 1733. This coldhearted and keen-eyed monster in human form has had her story told by us already. The parishioners seem, on this occasion, to have had no such scruples as had been exhibited by their predecessors a hundred and fifty years previous at the burial of Awfield, a traitor. We shall see presently that in those more remote days they were desirous of having at least respectable company for their deceased relatives and friends in the churchyard.
"For a long period," says Mr. Godwin (1838), "the church was surrounded by low mean buildings, by which its general appearance was hidden; but these having been cleared away, and the neighbourhood made considerably more open, St. Sepulchre's now forms a somewhat pleasing object, notwithstanding that the tower and a part of the porch are so entirely dissimilar in style to the remainder of the building." And since Godwin's writing the surroundings of the church have been so improved that perhaps few buildings in the metropolis stand more prominently before the public eye.
In the glorious roll of martyrs who have suffered at the stake for their religious principles, a vicar of St. Sepulchre's, the Reverend John Rogers, occupies a conspicuous place. He was the first who was burned in the reign of the Bloody Mary. This eminent person had at one time been chaplain to the English merchants at Antwerp, and while residing in that city had aided Tindal and Coverdale in their great work of translating the Bible. He married a German lady of good position, by whom he had a large family, and was enabled, by means of her relations, to reside in peace and safety in Germany. It appeared to be his duty, however, to return to England, and there publicly profess and advocate his religious convictions, even at the risk of death. He crossed the sea; he took his place in the pulpit at St. Paul's Cross; he preached a fearless and animated sermon, reminding his astonished audience of the pure and wholesome doctrine which had been promulgated from that pulpit in the days of the good King Edward, and solemnly warning them against the pestilent idolatry and superstition of these new times. It was his last sermon. He was apprehended, tried, condemned, and burned at Smithfield. We described, when speaking of Smithfield, the manner in which he met his fate.
Connected with the martyrdom of Rogers an odd circumstance is quoted in the "Churches of London." It is stated that when the bishops had resolved to put to death Joan Bocher, a friend came to Rogers and earnestly entreated his influence that the poor woman's life might be spared, and other means taken to prevent the spread of her heterodox doctrines. Rogers, however, contended that she should be executed; and his friend then begged him to choose some other kind of death, which should be more agreeable to the gentleness and mercy prescribed in the gospel. "No," replied Rogers, "burning alive is not a cruel death, but easy enough." His friend hearing these words, expressive of so little regard for the sufferings of a fellow-creature, answered him with great vehemence, at the same time striking Rogers' hand, "Well, it may perhaps so happen that you yourself shall have your hands full of this mild burning." There is no record of Rogers among the papers belonging to St. Sepulchre's, but this may easily be accounted for by the fact that at the Great Fire of 1666 nearly all the registers and archives were destroyed.
A noteworthy incident in the history of St. Sepulchre's was connected with the execution, in 1585, of Awfield, for "sparcinge abrood certen lewed, sedicious, and traytorous bookes." "When he was executed," says Fleetwood, the Recorder, in a letter to Lord Burleigh, July 7th of that year, "his body was brought unto St. Pulcher's to be buryed, but the parishioners would not suffer a traytor's corpse to be laid in the earth where their parents, wives, children, kindred, masters, and old neighbours did rest; and so his carcass was returned to the burial-ground near Tyburn, and there I leave it."
Another event in the history of the church is a tale of suicide. On the 10th of April, 1600, a man named William Dorrington threw himself from the roof of the tower, leaving there a prayer for forgiveness.
We come now to speak of the connection of St. Sepulchre's with the neighbouring prison of Newgate. Being the nearest church to the prison, that connection naturally was intimate. Its clock served to give the time to the hangman when there was an execution in the Old Bailey, and many a poor wretch's last moments must it have regulated.
On the right-hand side of the altar a board with a list of charitable donations and gifts used to contain the following item:—"1605. Mr. Robert Dowe gave, for ringing the greatest bell in this church on the day the condemned prisoners are executed, and for other services, for ever, concerning such condemned prisoners, for which services the sexton is paid £16s. 8d.—£50.
It was formerly the practice for the clerk or bellman of St. Sepulchre's to go under Newgate, on the night preceding the execution of a criminal, ring his bell, and repeat the following wholesome advice:—
"All you that in the condemned hold do lie,
Prepare you, for to-morrow you shall die;
Watch all, and pray, the hour is drawing near
That you before the Almighty must appear;
Examine well yourselves, in time repent,
That you may not to eternal flames be sent.
And when St. Sepulchre's bell to-morrow tolls,
The Lord above have mercy on your souls.
Past twelve o'clock!"
This practice is explained by a passage in Munday's edition of Stow, in which it is told that a Mr. John Dowe, citizen and merchant taylor of London, gave £50 to the parish church of St. Sepulchre's, under the following conditions:—After the several sessions of London, on the night before the execution of such as were condemned to death, the clerk of the church was to go in the night-time, and also early in the morning, to the window of the prison in which they were lying. He was there to ring "certain tolls with a hand-bell" appointed for the purpose, and was afterwards, in a most Christian manner, to put them in mind of their present condition and approaching end, and to exhort them to be prepared, as they ought to be, to die. When they were in the cart, and brought before the walls of the church, the clerk was to stand there ready with the same bell, and, after certain tolls, rehearse a prayer, desiring all the people there present to pray for the unfortunate criminals. The beadle, also, of Merchant Taylors' Hall was allowed an "honest stipend" to see that this ceremony was regularly performed.
The affecting admonition—"affectingly good," Pennant calls it—addressed to the prisoners in Newgate, on the night before execution, ran as follows:—
"You prisoners that are within,
Who, for wickedness and sin,
after many mercies shown you, are now appointed to die to-morrow in the forenoon; give ear and understand that, to-morrow morning, the greatest bell of St. Sepulchre's shall toll for you, in form and manner of a passing-bell, as used to be tolled for those that are at the point of death; to the end that all godly people, hearing that bell, and knowing it is for your going to your deaths, may be stirred up heartily to pray to God to bestow his grace and mercy upon you, whilst you live. I beseech you, for Jesus Christ's sake, to keep this night in watching and prayer, to the salvation of your own souls while there is yet time and place for mercy; as knowing to-morrow you must appear before the judgment-seat of your Creator, there to give an account of all things done in this life, and to suffer eternal torments for your sins committed against Him, unless, upon your hearty and unfeigned repentance, you find mercy through the merits, death, and passion of your only Mediator and Advocate, Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return to Him."
And the following was the admonition to condemned criminals, as they were passing by St. Sepulchre's Church wall to execution:—" All good people, pray heartily unto God for these poor sinners, who are now going to their death, for whom this great bell doth toll.
"You that are condemned to die, repent with lamentable tears; ask mercy of the Lord, for the salvation of your own souls, through the [merits, death, and passion of Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return unto Him.
"Lord have mercy upon you;
Christ have mercy upon you.
Lord have mercy upon you;
Christ have mercy upon you."
The charitable Mr. Dowe, who took such interest in the last moments of the occupants of the condemned cell, was buried in the church of St. Botolph, Aldgate.
Another curious custom observed at St. Sepulchre's was the presentation of a nosegay to every criminal on his way to execution at Tyburn. No doubt the practice had its origin in some kindly feeling for the poor unfortunates who were so soon to bid farewell to all the beauties of earth. One of the last who received a nosegay from the steps of St. Sepulchre's was "Sixteen-string Jack," alias John Rann, who was hanged, in 1774, for robbing the Rev. Dr. Bell of his watch and eighteen pence in money, in Gunnersbury Lane, on the road to Brentford. Sixteen-string Jack wore the flowers in his button-hole as he rode dolefully to the gallows. This was witnessed by John Thomas Smith, who thus describes the scene in his admirable anecdotebook, "Nollekens and his Times:"—" I remember well, when I was in my eighth year, Mr. Nollekens calling at my father's house, in Great Portland Street, and taking us to Oxford Street, to see the notorious Jack Rann, commonly called Sixteenstring Jack, go to Tyburn to be hanged. … The criminal was dressed in a pea-green coat, with an immense nosegay in the button-hole, which had been presented to him at St. Sepulchre's steps; and his nankeen small-clothes, we were told, were tied at each knee with sixteen strings. After he had passed, and Mr. Nollekens was leading me home by the hand, I recollect his stooping down to me and observing, in a low tone of voice, 'Tom, now, my little man, if my father-in-law, Mr. Justice Welch, had been high constable, we could have walked by the side of the cart all the way to Tyburn.'"
When criminals were conveyed from Newgate to Tyburn, the cart passed up Giltspur Street, and through Smithfield, to Cow Lane. Skinner Street had not then been built, and the Crooked Lane which turned down by St. Sepulchre's, as well as Ozier Lane, did not afford sufficient width to admit of the cavalcade passing by either of them, with convenience, to Holborn Hill, or "the Heavy Hill," as it used to be called. The procession seems at no time to have had much of the solemn element about it. "The heroes of the day were often," says a popular writer, "on good terms with the mob, and jokes were exchanged between the men who were going to be hanged and the men who deserved to be."
"On St. Paul's Day," says Mr. Timbs (1868), "service is performed in St. Sepulchre's, in accordance with the will of Mr. Paul Jervis, who, in 1717, devised certain land in trust that a sermon should be preached in the church upon every Paul's Day upon the excellence of the liturgy o the Church of England; the preacher to receive 40s. for such sermon. Various sums are also bequeathed to the curate, the clerk, the treasurer, and masters of the parochial schools. To the poor of the parish he bequeathed 20s. a-piece to ten of the poorest householders within that part of the parish of St. Sepulchre commonly called Smithfield quarter, £4 to the treasurer of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, and 6s. 8d. yearly to the clerk, who shall attend to receive the same. The residue of the yearly rents and profits is to be distributed unto and amongst such poor people of the parish of St. Sepulchre's, London, who shall attend the service and sermon. At the close of the service the vestry-clerk reads aloud an extract from the will, and then proceeds to the distribution of the money. In the evening the vicar, churchwardens, and common councilmen of the precinct dine together."
In 1749, a Mr. Drinkwater made a praiseworthy bequest. He left the parish of St. Sepulchre £500 to be lent in sums of £25 to industrious young tradesmen. No interest was to be charged, and the money was to be lent for four years.
Next to St. Sepulchre's, on Snow Hill, used to stand the famous old inn of the "Saracen's Head." It was only swept away within the last few years by the ruthless army of City improvers: a view of it in course of demolition was given on page 439. It was one of the oldest of the London inns which bore the "Saracen's Head" for a sign. One of Dick Tarlton's jests makes mention of the "Saracen's Head" without Newgate, and Stow, describing this neighbourhood, speaks particularly of "a fair large inn for receipt of travellers" that "hath to sign the 'Saracen's Head.'" The courtyard had, to the last, many of the characteristics of an old English inn; there were galleries all round leading to the bedrooms, and a spacious gateway through which the dusty mail-coaches used to rumble, the tired passengers creeping forth "thanking their stars in having escaped the highwaymen and the holes and sloughs of the road." Into that courtyard how many have come on their first arrival in London with hearts beating high with hope, some of whom have risen to be aldermen and sit in state as lord mayor, whilst others have gone the way of the idle apprentice and come to a sad end at Tyburn! It was at this inn that Nicholas Nickleby and his uncle waited upon the Yorkshire schoolmaster Squeers, of Dotheboys Hall. Mr. Dickens describes the tavern as it existed in the last days of mail-coaching, when it was a most important place for arrivals and departures in London:—
"Next to the jail, and by consequence near to Smithfield also, and the Compter and the bustle and noise of the City, and just on that particular part of Snow Hill where omnibus horses going eastwards seriously think of falling down on purpose, and where horses in hackney cabriolets going westwards not unfrequently fall by accident, is the coach-yard of the 'Saracen's Head' inn, its portals guarded by two Saracen's heads and shoulders, which it was once the pride and glory of the choice spirits of this metropolis to pull down at night, but which have for some time remained in undisturbed tranquillity, possibly because this species of humour is now confined to St. James's parish, where doorknockers are preferred as being more portable, and bell-wires esteemed as convenient tooth-picks. Whether this be the reason or not, there they are, frowning upon you from each side of the gateway; and the inn itself, garnished with another Saracen's head, frowns upon you from the top of the yard; while from the door of the hind-boot of all the red coaches that are standing therein, there glares a small Saracen's head with a twin expression to the large Saracen's head below, so that the general appearance of the pile is of the Saracenic order."
To explain the use of the Saracen's head as an inn sign various reasons have been given. "When our countrymen," says Selden, "came home from fighting with the Saracens and were beaten by them, they pictured them with huge, big, terrible faces (as you still see the 'Saracen's Head' is), when in truth they were like other men. But this they did to save their own credit." Or the sign may have been adopted by those who had visited the Holy Land either as pilgrims or to fight the Saracens. Others, again, hold that it was first set up in compliment to the mother of Thomas à Becket, who was the daughter of a Saracen. However this may be, it is certain that the use of the sign in former days was very general.
Running past the east end of St. Sepulchre's, from Newgate into West Smithfield, is Giltspur Street, anciently called Knightriders Street. This interesting thoroughfare derives its name from the knights with their gilt spurs having been accustomed to ride this way to the jousts and tournaments which in days of old were held in Smithfield.
In this street was Giltspur Street Compter, a debtors' prison and house of correction appertaining to the sheriffs of London and Middlesex. It stood over against St. Sepulchre's Church, and was removed hither from the east side of Wood Street, Cheapside, in 1791. At the time of its removal it was used as a place of imprisonment for debtors, but the yearly increasing demands upon the contracted space caused that department to be given up, and City debtors were sent to Whitecross Street. The architect was Dance, to whom we are also indebted for the grim pile of Newgate. The Compter was a dirty and appropriately convictlooking edifice. It was pulled down in 1855. Mr. Hepworth Dixon gave an interesting account of this City House of Correction, not long before its demolition, in his "London Prisons" (1850). "Entering," he says, "at the door facing St. Sepulchre's, the visitor suddenly finds himself in a low dark passage, leading into the offices of the gaol, and branching off into other passages, darker, closer, more replete with noxious smells, than even those of Newgate. This is the fitting prelude to what follows. The prison, it must be noticed, is divided into two principal divisions, the House of Correction and the Compter. The front in Giltspur Street, and the side nearest to Newgate Street, is called the Compter. In its wards are placed detenues of various kinds—remands, committals from the police-courts, and generally persons waiting for trial, and consequently still unconvicted. The other department, the House of Correction, occupies the back portion of the premises, abutting on Christ's Hospital. Curious it is to consider how thin a wall divides these widely-separate worlds! And sorrowful it is to think what a difference of destiny awaits the children—destiny inexorable, though often unearned in either case—who, on the one side of it or the other, receive an eleemosynary education! The collegian and the criminal! Who shall say how much mere accident— circumstances over which the child has little power —determines to a life of usefulness or mischief? From the yards of Giltspur Street prison almost the only objects visible, outside of the gaol itself, are the towers of Christ's Hospital; the only sounds audible, the shouts of the scholars at their play. The balls of the hospital boys often fall within the yards of the prison. Whether these sights and sounds ever cause the criminal to pause and reflect upon the courses of his life, we will not say, but the stranger visiting the place will be very apt to think for him. …
"In the department of the prison called the House of Correction, minor offenders within the City of London are imprisoned. No transports are sent hither, nor is any person whose sentence is above three years in length." This able writer then goes on to tell of the many crying evils connected with the institution—the want of air, the over-crowded state of the rooms, the absence of proper cellular accommodation, and the vicious intercourse carried on amongst the prisoners. The entire gaol, when he wrote, only contained thirty-six separate sleeping-rooms. Now by the highest prison calculation—and this, be it noted, proceeds on the assumption that three persons can sleep in small, miserable, unventilated cells, which are built for only one, and are too confined for that, being only about one-half the size of the model cell for one at Pentonville—it was only capable of accommodating 203 prisoners, yet by the returns issued at Michaelmas, 1850, it contained 246!
A large section of the prison used to be devoted to female delinquents, but lately it was almost entirely given up to male offenders.
"The House of Correction, and the Compter portion of the establishment," says Mr. Dixon, "are kept quite distinct, but it would be difficult to award the palm of empire in their respective facilities for demoralisation. We think the Compter rather the worse of the two. You are shown into a room, about the size of an apartment in an ordinary dwelling-house, which will be found crowded with from thirty to forty persons, young and old, and in their ordinary costume; the low thief in his filth and rags, and the member of the swell-mob with his bright buttons, flash finery, and false jewels. Here you notice the boy who has just been guilty of his first offence, and committed for trial, learning with a greedy mind a thousand criminal arts, and listening with the precocious instinct of guilty passions to stories and conversations the most depraved and disgusting. You regard him with a mixture of pity and loathing, for he knows that the eyes of his peers are upon him, and he stares at you with a familiar impudence, and exhibits a devil-may-care countenance, such as is only to be met with in the juvenile offender. Here, too, may be seen the young clerk, taken up on suspicion—perhaps innocent—who avoids you with a shy look of pain and uneasiness: what a hell must this prison be to him! How frightful it is to think of a person really untainted with crime, compelled to herd for ten or twenty days with these abandoned wretches!
"On the other, the House of Correction side of the gaol, similar rooms will be found, full of prisoners communicating with each other, laughing and shouting without hindrance. All this is so little in accordance with existing notions of prison discipline, that one is continually fancying these disgraceful scenes cannot be in the capital of England, and in the year of grace 1850. Very few of the prisoners attend school or receive any instruction; neither is any kind of employment afforded them, except oakum-picking, and the still more disgusting labour of the treadmill. When at work, an officer is in attendance to prevent disorderly conduct; but his presence is of no avail as a protection to the less depraved. Conversation still goes on; and every facility is afforded for making acquaintances, and for mutual contamination."
After having long been branded by intelligent inspectors as a disgrace to the metropolis, Giltspur Street Compter was condemned, closed in 1854, and subsequently taken down.
Nearly opposite what used to be the site of the Compter, and adjoining Cock Lane, is the spot called Pie Corner, near which terminated the Great Fire of 1666. The fire commenced at Pudding Lane, it will be remembered, so it was singularly appropriate that it should terminate at Pie Corner. Under the date of 4th September, 1666, Pepys, in his "Diary," records that "W. Hewer this day went to see how his mother did, and comes home late, telling us how he hath been forced to remove her to Islington, her house in Pye Corner being burned; so that the fire is got so far that way." The figure of a fat naked boy stands over a public house at the corner of the lane; it used to have the following warning inscription attached:— "This boy is in memory put up of the late fire of London, occasioned by the sin of gluttony, 1666." According to Stow, Pie Corner derived its name from the sign of a well-frequented hostelry, which anciently stood on the spot. Strype makes honourable mention of Pie Corner, as "noted chiefly for cooks' shops and pigs dressed there during Bartholomew Fair." Our old writers have many references—and not all, by the way, in the best taste—to its cookstalls and dressed pork. Shadwell, for instance, in the Woman Captain (1680) speaks of "meat dressed at Pie Corner by greasy scullions;" and Ben Jonson writes in the Alchemist (1612)—
"I shall put you in mind, sir, at Pie Corner,
Taking your meal of steam in from cooks' stalls."
And in "The Great Boobee" ("Roxburgh Ballads"):
"Next day I through Pie Corner passed;
The roast meat on the stall
Invited me to take a taste;
My money was but small."
But Pie Corner seems to have been noted for more than eatables. A ballad from Tom D'Urfey's "Pills to Purge Melancholy," describing Bartholomew Fair, eleven years before the Fire of London, says:—
"At Pie-Corner end, mark well my good friend,
'Tis a very fine dirty place;
Where there's more arrows and bows. …
Than was handled at Chivy Chase."
We have already given a view of Pie Corner in our chapter on Smithfield, page 361.
Hosier Lane, running from Cow Lane to Smithfield, and almost parallel to Cock Lane, is described by "R. B.," in Strype, as a place not over-well built or inhabited. The houses were all old timber erections. Some of these—those standing at the south corner of the lane—were in the beginning of this century depicted by Mr. J. T. Smith, in his "Ancient Topography of London." He describes them as probably of the reign of James I. The rooms were small, with low, unornamented ceilings; the timber, oak, profusely used; the gables were plain, and the walls lath and plaster. They were taken down in 1809.
In the corner house, in Mr. Smith's time, there was a barber whose name was Catchpole; at least, so it was written over the door. He was rather an odd fellow, and possessed, according to his own account, a famous relic of antiquity. He would gravely show his customers a short-bladed instrument, as the identical dagger with which Walworth killed Wat Tyler.
Hosier Lane, like Pie Corner, used to be a great resort during the time of Bartholomew Fair, "all the houses," it is said in Strype, "generally being made public for tippling."
We return now from our excursion to the north of St. Sepulchre's, and continue our rambles to the west, and before speaking of what is, let us refer to what has been.
Turnagain Lane is not far from this. "Near unto this Seacoal Lane," remarks Stow, "in the turning towards Holborn Conduit, is Turnagain Lane, or rather, as in a record of the 5th of Edward III., Windagain Lane, for that it goeth down west to Fleet Dyke, from whence men must turn again the same way they came, but there it stopped." There used to be a proverb, "He must take him a house in Turnagain Lane."
A conduit formerly stood on Snow Hill, a little below the church. It is described as a building with four equal sides, ornamented with four columns and pediment, surmounted by a pyramid, on which stood a lamb—a rebus on the name of Lamb, from whose conduit in Red Lion Street the water came. There had been a conduit there, however, before Lamb's day, which was towards the close of the sixteenth century.
At No. 37, King Street, Snow Hill, there used to be a ladies' charity school, which was established in 1702, and remained in the parish 145 years. Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale were subscribers to this school, and Johnson drew from it his story of Betty Broom, in "The Idler." The world of domestic service, in Betty's days, seems to have been pretty much as now. Betty was a poor girl, bred in the country at a charity-school, maintained by the contributions of wealthy neighbours. The patronesses visited the school from time to time, to see how the pupils got on, and everything went well, till "at last, the chief of the subscribers having passed a winter in London, came down full of an opinion new and strange to the whole country. She held it little less than criminal to teach poor girls to read and write. They who are born to poverty, she said, are born to ignorance, and will work the harder the less they know. She told her friends that London was in confusion by the insolence of servants; that scarcely a girl could be got for all-work, since education had made such numbers of fine ladies, that nobody would now accept a lower title than that of a waiting-maid, or something that might qualify her to wear laced shoes and long ruffles, and to sit at work in the parlour window. But she was resolved, for her part, to spoil no more girls. Those who were to live by their hands should neither read nor write out of her pocket. The world was bad enough already, and she would have no part in making it worse.
"She was for a long time warmly opposed; but she persevered in her notions, and withdrew her subscription. Few listen, without a desire of conviction, to those who advise them to spare their money. Her example and her arguments gained ground daily; and in less than a year the whole parish was convinced that the nation would be ruined if the children of the poor were taught to read and write." So the school was dissolved, and Betty with the rest was turned adrift into the wide and cold world; and her adventures there any one may read in "The Idler" for himself.
There is an entry in the school minutes of 1763, to the effect that the ladies of the committee censured the schoolmistress for listening to the story of the Cock Lane ghost, and "desired her to keep her belief in the article to herself."
Skinner Street—now one of the names of the past—which ran by the south side of St. Sepulchre's, and formed the connecting link between Newgate Street and Holborn, received its name from Alderman Skinner, through whose exertions, about 1802, it was principally built. The following account of Skinner Street is from the picturesque pen of Mr. William Harvey ("Aleph"), whose long familiarity with the places he describes renders doubly valuable his many contributions to the history of London scenes and people:—"As a building speculation," he says, writing in 1863, "it was a failure. When the buildings were ready for occupation, tall and substantial as they really were, the high rents frightened intending shopkeepers. Tenants were not to be had; and in order to get over the money difficulty, a lottery, sanctioned by Parliament, was commenced. Lotteries were then common tricks of finance, and nobody wondered at the new venture; but even the most desperate fortune-hunters were slow to invest their capital, and the tickets hung sadly on hand. The day for the drawing was postponed several times, and when it came, there was little or no excitement on the subject, and whoever rejoiced in becoming a house-owner on such easy terms, the original projectors and builders were understood to have suffered considerably. The winners found the property in a very unfinished condition. Few of the dwellings were habitable, and as funds were often wanting, a majority of the houses remained empty, and the shops unopened. After two or three years things began to improve; the vast many-storeyed house which then covered the site of Commercial Place was converted into a warehousing depôt; a capital house opposite the 'Saracen's Head' was taken by a hosier of the name of Theobald, who, opening his shop with the determination of selling the best hosiery, and nothing else, was able to convince the citizens that his hose was first-rate, and, desiring only a living profit, succeeded, after thirty years of unwearied industry, in accumulating a large fortune. Theobald was possessed of literary tastes, and at the sale of Sir Walter Scott's manuscripts was a liberal purchaser. He also collected a library of exceedingly choice books, and when aristocratic customers purchased stockings of him, was soon able to interest them in matters of far higher interest…
"The most remarkable shop—but it was on the left-hand side, at a corner house—was that established for the sale of children's books. It boasted an immense extent of window-front, extending from the entrance into Snow Hill, and towards Fleet Market. Many a time have I lingered with loving eyes over those fascinating story-books, so rich in gaily-coloured prints; such careful editions of the marvellous old histories, 'Puss in Boots,' 'Cock Robin,' 'Cinderella,' and the like. Fortunately the front was kept low, so as exactly to suit the capacity of a childish admirer. . . . . But Skinner Street did not prosper much, and never could compete with even the dullest portions of Holborn. I have spoken of some reputable shops; but you know the proverb, 'One swallow will not make a summer,' and it was a declining neighbourhood almost before it could be called new. In 1810 the commercial depôt, which had been erected at a cost of £25,000, and was the chief prize in the lottery, was destroyed by fire, never to be rebuilt—a heavy blow and discouragement to Skinner Street, from which it never rallied. Perhaps the periodical hanging-days exercised an unfavourable influence, collecting, as they frequently did, all the thieves and vagabonds of London. I never sympathised with Pepys or Charles Fox in their passion for public executions, and made it a point to avoid those ghastly sights; but early of a Monday morning, when I had just reached the end of Giltspur Street, a miserable wretch had just been turned off from the platform of the debtors' door, and I was made the unwilling witness of his last struggles. That scene haunted me for months, and I often used to ask myself, 'Who that could help it would live in Skinner Street?' The next unpropitious event in these parts was the unexpected closing of the child's library. What could it mean? Such a well-to-do establishment shut up? Yes, the whole army of shutters looked blankly on the inquirer, and forbade even a single glance at 'Sinbad' or 'Robinson Crusoe.' It would soon be re-opened, we naturally thought; but the shutters never came down again. The whole house was deserted; not even a messenger in bankruptcy, or an ancient Charley, was found to regard the playful double knocks of the neighbouring juveniles. Gradually the glass of all the windows got broken in, a heavy cloud of black dust, solidifying into inches thick, gathered on sills and doors and brickwork, till the whole frontage grew as gloomy as Giant Despair's Castle. Not long after, the adjoining houses shared the same fate, and they remained from year to year without the slightest sign of life—absolute scarecrows, darkening with their uncomfortable shadows the busy streets. Within half a mile, in Stamford Street, Blackfriars, there are (1863) seven houses in a similar predicament— window-glass demolished, doors cracked from top to bottom, spiders' webs hanging from every projecting sill or parapet. What can it mean? The loss in the article of rents alone must be over £1,000 annually. If the real owners are at feud with imaginary owners, surely the property might be rendered valuable, and the proceeds invested. Even the lawyers can derive no profit from such hopeless abandonment. I am told the whole mischief arose out of a Chancery suit. Can it be the famous 'Jarndyce v. Jarndyce' case? And have all the heirs starved each other out? If so, what hinders our lady the Queen from taking possession? Any change would be an improvement, for these dead houses make the streets they cumber as dispiriting and comfortless as graveyards. Busy fancy will sometimes people them, and fill the dreary rooms with strange guests. Do the victims of guilt congregate in these dark dens? Do wretches 'unfriended by the world or the world's law,' seek refuge in these deserted nooks, mourning in the silence of despair over their former lives, and anticipating the future in unappeasable agony? Such things have been—the silence and desolation of these doomed dwellings make them the more suitable for such tenants."
A street is nothing without a mystery, so a mystery let these old tumble-down houses remain, whilst we go on to tell that, in front of No. 58, the sailor Cashman was hung in 1817, as we have already mentioned, for plundering a gunsmith's shop there. William Godwin, the author of "Caleb Williams," kept a bookseller's shop for several years in Skinner Street, at No. 41, and published school-books in the name of Edward Baldwin. On the wall there was a stone carving of Æsop reciting one of his fables to children.
The most noteworthy event of the life of Godwin was his marriage with the celebrated Mary Wollstonecraft, authoress of a "Vindication of the Rights of Women," whose congenial mind, in politics and morals, he ardently admired. Godwin's account of the way in which they got on together is worth reading:—"Ours," he writes, "was not an idle happiness, a paradise of selfish and transitory pleasures. It is, perhaps, scarcely necessary to mention, that influenced by ideas I had long entertained, I engaged an apartment about twenty doors from our house, in the Polygon, Somers Town, which I designed for the purpose of my study and literary occupations. Trifles, however, will be interesting to some readers, when they relate to the last period of the life of such a person as Mary. I will add, therefore, that we were both of us of opinion, that it was possible for two persons to be too uniformly in each other's society. Influenced by that opinion, it was my practice to repair to the apartment I have mentioned as soon as I rose, and frequently not to make my appearance in the Polygon till the hour of dinner. We agreed in condemning the notion, prevalent in many situations in life, that a man and his wife cannot visit in mixed society but in company with each other, and we rather sought occasions of deviating from than of complying with this rule. By this means, though, for the most part, we spent the latter half of each day in one another's society, yet we were in no danger of satiety. We seemed to combine, in a considerable degree, the novelty and lively sensation of a visit with the more delicious and heartfelt pleasure of a domestic life."
This philosophic union, to Godwin's inexpressible affliction, did not last more than eighteen months, at the end of which time Mrs. Godwin died, leaving an only daughter, who in the course of time became the second wife of the poet Shelley, and was the author of the wild and extraordinary tale of "Frankenstein."
Phew, it has been a struggle, but these are the final 5 uploads from St Sepulchre: a glorious church, a church of delights if you will.
Next up, St Dunstan in the West, the photos of which have not come out well, so I will have to return, but so it goes, so it goes.
With the rain falling harder, it was a bit of a route march to Holborn and my next church, the stunning St Sepulchre, which was also open.
-----------------------------------------------------
St Sepulchre-without-Newgate, also known as the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (Holborn), is an Anglican church in the City of London. It is located on Holborn Viaduct, almost opposite the Old Bailey. In medieval times it stood just outside ("without") the now-demolished old city wall, near the Newgate. It has been a living of St John's College, Oxford, since 1622.
The original Saxon church on the site was dedicated to St Edmund the King and Martyr. During the Crusades in the 12th century the church was renamed St Edmund and the Holy Sepulchre, in reference to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. The name eventually became contracted to St Sepulchre.
The church is today the largest parish church in the City. It was completely rebuilt in the 15th century but was gutted by the Great Fire of London in 1666,[1] which left only the outer walls, the tower and the porch standing[2] -. Modified in the 18th century, the church underwent extensive restoration in 1878. It narrowly avoided destruction in the Second World War, although the 18th-century watch-house in its churchyard (erected to deter grave-robbers) was completely destroyed and had to be rebuilt.
The interior of the church is a wide, roomy space with a coffered ceiling[3] installed in 1834. The Vicars' old residence has recently been renovated into a modern living quarter.
During the reign of Mary I in 1555, St Sepulchre's vicar, John Rogers, was burned as a heretic.
St Sepulchre is named in the nursery rhyme Oranges and Lemons as the "bells of Old Bailey". Traditionally, the great bell would be rung to mark the execution of a prisoner at the nearby gallows at Newgate. The clerk of St Sepulchre's was also responsible for ringing a handbell outside the condemned man's cell in Newgate Prison to inform him of his impending execution. This handbell, known as the Execution Bell, now resides in a glass case to the south of the nave.
The church has been the official musicians' church for many years and is associated with many famous musicians. Its north aisle (formerly a chapel dedicated to Stephen Harding) is dedicated as the Musicians' Chapel, with four windows commemorating John Ireland, the singer Dame Nellie Melba, Walter Carroll and the conductor Sir Henry Wood respectively.[4] Wood, who "at the age of fourteen, learned to play the organ" at this church [1] and later became its organist, also has his ashes buried in this church.
The south aisle of the church holds the regimental chapel of the Royal Fusiliers (City of London Regiment), and its gardens are a memorial garden to that regiment.[5] The west end of the north aisle has various memorials connected with the City of London Rifles (the 6th Battalion London Regiment). The church was designated a Grade I listed building on 4 January 1950.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Sepulchre-without-Newgate
The Early History of St. Sepulchre's—Its Destruction in 1666—The Exterior and Interior—The Early Popularity of the Church—Interments here—Roger Ascham, the Author of the "Schoolmaster"—Captain John Smith, and his Romantic Adventures—Saved by an Indian Girl— St. Sepulchre's Churchyard—Accommodation for a Murderess—The Martyr Rogers—An Odd Circumstance—Good Company for the Dead—A Leap from the Tower—A Warning Bell and a Last Admonition—Nosegays for the Condemned—The Route to the Gallows-tree— The Deeds of the Charitable—The "Saracen's Head"—Description by Dickens—Giltspur Street—Giltspur Street Compter—A Disreputable Condition—Pie Corner—Hosier Lane—A Spurious Relic—The Conduit on Snow Hill—A Ladies' Charity School—Turnagain Lane—Poor Betty!—A Schoolmistress Censured—Skinner Street—Unpropitious Fortune—William Godwin—An Original Married Life.
Many interesting associations—Principally, however, connected with the annals of crime and the execution of the laws of England—belong to the Church of St. Sepulchre, or St. 'Pulchre. This sacred edifice—anciently known as St. Sepulchre's in the Bailey, or by Chamberlain Gate (now Newgate)—stands at the eastern end of the slight acclivity of Snow Hill, and between Smithfield and the Old Bailey. The genuine materials for its early history are scanty enough. It was probably founded about the commencement of the twelfth century, but of the exact date and circumstances of its origin there is no record whatever. Its name is derived from the Holy Sepulchre of our Saviour at Jerusalem, to the memory of which it was first dedicated.
The earliest authentic notice of the church, according to Maitland, is of the year 1178, at which date it was given by Roger, Bishop of Sarum, to the Prior and Canons of St. Bartholomew. These held the right of advowson until the dissolution of monasteries by Henry VIII., and from that time until 1610 it remained in the hands of the Crown. James I., however, then granted "the rectory and its appurtenances, with the advowson of the vicarage," to Francis Phillips and others. The next stage in its history is that the rectory was purchased by the parishioners, to be held in fee-farm of the Crown, and the advowson was obtained by the President and Fellows of St. John the Baptist College, at Oxford.
The church was rebuilt about the middle of the fifteenth century, when one of the Popham family, who had been Chancellor of Normandy and Treasurer of the King's Household, with distinguished liberality erected a handsome chapel on the south side of the choir, and the very beautiful porch still remaining at the south-west corner of the building. "His image," Stow says, "fair graven in stone, was fixed over the said porch."
The dreadful fire of 1666 almost destroyed St. Sepulchre's, but the parishioners set energetically to work, and it was "rebuilt and beautified both within and without." The general reparation was under the direction of Sir Christopher Wren, and nothing but the walls of the old building, and these not entirely, were suffered to remain. The work was done rapidly, and the whole was completed within four years.
"The tower," says Mr. Godwin, "retained its original aspect, and the body of the church, after its restoration, presented a series of windows between buttresses, with pointed heads filled with tracery, crowned by a string-course and battlements. In this form it remained till the year 1790, when it appears the whole fabric was found to be in a state of great decay, and it was resolved to repair it throughout. Accordingly the walls of the church were cased with Portland stone, and all the windows were taken out and replaced by others with plain semi-circular heads, as now seen—certainly agreeing but badly with the tower and porch of the building, but according with the then prevailing spirit of economy. The battlements, too, were taken down, and a plain stone parapet was substituted, so that at this time (with the exception of the roof, which was wagon-headed, and presented on the outside an unsightly swell, visible above the parapet) the church assumed its present appearance." The ungainly roof was removed, and an entirely new one erected, about 1836.
At each corner of the tower—"one of the most ancient," says the author of "Londinium Redivivum," "in the outline of the circuit of London" —there are spires, and on the spires there are weathercocks. These have been made use of by Howell to point a moral: "Unreasonable people," says he, "are as hard to reconcile as the vanes of St. Sepulchre's tower, which never look all four upon one point of the heavens." Nothing can be said with certainty as to the date of the tower, but it is not without the bounds of probability that it formed part of the original building. The belfry is reached by a small winding staircase in the south-west angle, and a similar staircase in an opposite angle leads to the summit. The spires at the corners, and some of the tower windows, have very recently undergone several alterations, which have added much to the picturesqueness and beauty of the church.
The chief entrance to St. Sepulchre's is by a porch of singular beauty, projecting from the south side of the tower, at the western end of the church. The groining of the ceiling of this porch, it has been pointed out, takes an almost unique form; the ribs are carved in bold relief, and the bosses at the intersections represent angels' heads, shields, roses, &c., in great variety.
Coming now to the interior of the church, we find it divided into three aisles, by two ranges of Tuscan columns. The aisles are of unequal widths, that in the centre being the widest, that to the south the narrowest. Semi-circular arches connect the columns on either side, springing directly from their capitals, without the interposition of an entablature, and support a large dental cornice, extending round the church. The ceiling of the middle aisle is divided into seven compartments, by horizontal bands, the middle compartment being formed into a small dome.
The aisles have groined ceilings, ornamented at the angles with doves, &c., and beneath every division of the groining are small windows, to admit light to the galleries. Over each of the aisles there is a gallery, very clumsily introduced, which dates from the time when the church was built by Wren, and extends the whole length, excepting at the chancel. The front of the gallery, which is of oak, is described by Mr. Godwin as carved into scrolls, branches, &c., in the centre panel, on either side, with the initials "C. R.," enriched with carvings of laurel, which have, however, he says, "but little merit."
At the east end of the church there are three semicircular-headed windows. Beneath the centre one is a large Corinthian altar-piece of oak, displaying columns, entablatures, &c., elaborately carved and gilded.
The length of the church, exclusive of the ambulatory, is said to be 126 feet, the breadth 68 feet, and the height of the tower 140 feet.
A singularly ugly sounding-board, extending over the preacher, used to stand at the back of the pulpit, at the east end of the church. It was in the shape of a large parabolic reflector, about twelve feet in diameter, and was composed of ribs of mahogany.
At the west end of the church there is a large organ, said to be the oldest and one of the finest in London. It was built in 1677, and has been greatly enlarged. Its reed-stops (hautboy, clarinet, &c.) are supposed to be unrivalled. In Newcourt's time the church was taken notice of as "remarkable for possessing an exceedingly fine organ, and the playing is thought so beautiful, that large congregations are attracted, though some of the parishioners object to the mode of performing divine service."
On the north side of the church, Mr. Godwin mentions, is a large apartment known as "St. Stephen's Chapel." This building evidently formed a somewhat important part of the old church, and was probably appropriated to the votaries of the saint whose name it bears.
Between the exterior and the interior of the church there is little harmony. "For example," says Mr. Godwin, "the columns which form the south aisle face, in some instances, the centre of the large windows which occur in the external wall of the church, and in others the centre of the piers, indifferently." This discordance may likely enough have arisen from the fact that when the church was rebuilt, or rather restored, after the Great Fire, the works were done without much attention from Sir Christopher Wren.
St. Sepulchre's appears to have enjoyed considerable popularity from the earliest period of its history, if one is to judge from the various sums left by well-disposed persons for the support of certain fraternities founded in the church—namely, those of St. Katherine, St. Michael, St. Anne, and Our Lady—and by others, for the maintenance of chantry priests to celebrate masses at stated intervals for the good of their souls. One of the fraternities just named—that of St. Katherine— originated, according to Stow, in the devotion of some poor persons in the parish, and was in honour of the conception of the Virgin Mary. They met in the church on the day of the Conception, and there had the mass of the day, and offered to the same, and provided a certain chaplain daily to celebrate divine service, and to set up wax lights before the image belonging to the fraternity, on all festival days.
The most famous of all who have been interred in St. Sepulchre's is Roger Ascham, the author of the "Schoolmaster," and the instructor of Queen Elizabeth in Greek and Latin. This learned old worthy was born in 1515, near Northallerton, in Yorkshire. He was educated at Cambridge University, and in time rose to be the university orator, being notably zealous in promoting what was then a novelty in England—the study of the Greek language. To divert himself after the fatigue of severe study, he used to devote himself to archery. This drew down upon him the censure of the all-work-and-no-play school; and in defence of himself, Ascham, in 1545, published "Toxophilus," a treatise on his favourite sport. This book is even yet well worthy of perusal, for its enthusiasm, and for its curious descriptions of the personal appearance and manners of the principal persons whom the author had seen and conversed with. Henry VIII. rewarded him with a pension of £10 per annum, a considerable sum in those days. In 1548, Ascham, on the death of William Grindall, who had been his pupil, was appointed instructor in the learned languages to Lady Elizabeth, afterwards the good Queen Bess. At the end of two years he had some dispute with, or took a disgust at, Lady Elizabeth's attendants, resigned his situation, and returned to his college. Soon after this he was employed as secretary to the English ambassador at the court of Charles V. of Germany, and remained abroad till the death of Edward VI. During his absence he had been appointed Latin secretary to King Edward. Strangely enough, though Queen Mary and her ministers were Papists, and Ascham a Protestant, he was retained in his office of Latin secretary, his pension was increased to £20, and he was allowed to retain his fellowship and his situation as university orator. In 1554 he married a lady of good family, by whom he had a considerable fortune, and of whom, in writing to a friend, he gives, as might perhaps be expected, an excellent character. On the accession of Queen Elizabeth, in 1558, she not only required his services as Latin secretary, but as her instructor in Greek, and he resided at Court during the remainder of his life. He died in consequence of his endeavours to complete a Latin poem which he intended to present to the queen on the New Year's Day of 1569. He breathed his last two days before 1568 ran out, and was interred, according to his own directions, in the most private manner, in St. Sepulchre's Church, his funeral sermon being preached by Dr. Andrew Nowell, Dean of St. Paul's. He was universally lamented; and even the queen herself not only showed great concern, but was pleased to say that she would rather have lost ten thousand pounds than her tutor Ascham, which, from that somewhat closehanded sovereign, was truly an expression of high regard.
Ascham, like most men, had his little weaknesses. He had too great a propensity to dice and cock-fighting. Bishop Nicholson would try to convince us that this is an unfounded calumny, but, as it is mentioned by Camden, and other contemporary writers, it seems impossible to deny it. He died, from all accounts, in indifferent circumstances. "Whether," says Dr. Johnson, referring to this, "Ascham was poor by his own fault, or the fault of others, cannot now be decided; but it is certain that many have been rich with less merit. His philological learning would have gained him honour in any country; and among us it may justly call for that reverence which all nations owe to those who first rouse them from ignorance, and kindle among them the light of literature." His most valuable work, "The Schoolmaster," was published by his widow. The nature of this celebrated performance may be gathered from the title: "The Schoolmaster; or a plain and perfite way of teaching children to understand, write, and speak the Latin tongue. … And commodious also for all such as have forgot the Latin tongue, and would by themselves, without a schoolmaster, in short time, and with small pains, recover a sufficient habilitie to understand, write, and speak Latin: by Roger Ascham, ann. 1570. At London, printed by John Daye, dwelling over Aldersgate," a printer, by the way, already mentioned by us a few chapters back (see page 208), as having printed several noted works of the sixteenth century.
Dr. Johnson remarks that the instruction recommended in "The Schoolmaster" is perhaps the best ever given for the study of languages.
Here also lies buried Captain John Smith, a conspicuous soldier of fortune, whose romantic adventures and daring exploits have rarely been surpassed. He died on the 21st of June, 1631. This valiant captain was born at Willoughby, in the county of Lincoln, and helped by his doings to enliven the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. He had a share in the wars of Hungary in 1602, and in three single combats overcame three Turks, and cut off their heads. For this, and other equally brave deeds, Sigismund, Duke of Transylvania, gave him his picture set in gold, with a pension of three hundred ducats; and allowed him to bear three Turks' heads proper as his shield of arms. He afterwards went to America, where he had the misfortune to fall into the hands of the Indians. He escaped from them, however, at last, and resumed his brilliant career by hazarding his life in naval engagements with pirates and Spanish men-of-war. The most important act of his life was the share he had in civilising the natives of New England, and reducing that province to obedience to Great Britain. In connection with his tomb in St. Sepulchre's, he is mentioned by Stow, in his "Survey," as "some time Governor of Virginia and Admiral of New England."
Certainly the most interesting events of his chequered career were his capture by the Indians, and the saving of his life by the Indian girl Pocahontas, a story of adventure that charms as often as it is told. Bancroft, the historian of the United States, relates how, during the early settlement of Virginia, Smith left the infant colony on an exploring expedition, and not only ascended the river Chickahominy, but struck into the interior. His companions disobeyed his instructions, and being surprised by the Indians, were put to death. Smith preserved his own life by calmness and self-possession. Displaying a pocket-compass, he amused the savages by an explanation of its power, and increased their admiration of his superior genius by imparting to them some vague conceptions of the form of the earth, and the nature of the planetary system. To the Indians, who retained him as their prisoner, his captivity was a more strange event than anything of which the traditions of their tribes preserved the memory. He was allowed to send a letter to the fort at Jamestown, and the savage wonder was increased, for he seemed by some magic to endow the paper with the gift of intelligence. It was evident that their captive was a being of a high order, and then the question arose, Was his nature beneficent, or was he to be dreaded as a dangerous enemy? Their minds were bewildered, and the decision of his fate was referred to the chief Powhatan, and before Powhatan Smith was brought. "The fears of the feeble aborigines," says Bancroft, "were about to prevail, and his immediate death, already repeatedly threatened and repeatedly delayed, would have been inevitable, but for the timely intercession of Pocahontas, a girl twelve years old, the daughter of Powhatan, whose confiding fondness Smith had easily won, and who firmly clung to his neck, as his head was bowed down to receive the stroke of the tomahawks. His fearlessness, and her entreaties, persuaded the council to spare the agreeable stranger, who could make hatchets for her father, and rattles and strings of beads for herself, the favourite child. The barbarians, whose decision had long been held in suspense by the mysterious awe which Smith had inspired, now resolved to receive him as a friend, and to make him a partner of their councils. They tempted him to join their bands, and lend assistance in an attack upon the white men at Jamestown; and when his decision of character succeeded in changing the current of their thoughts, they dismissed him with mutual promises of friendship and benevolence. Thus the captivity of Smith did itself become a benefit to the colony; for he had not only observed with care the country between the James and the Potomac, and had gained some knowledge of the language and manners of the natives, but he now established a peaceful intercourse between the English and the tribes of Powhatan."
On the monument erected to Smith in St. Sepulchre's Church, the following quaint lines were formerly inscribed:—
"Here lies one conquered that hath conquered kings,
Subdued large territories, and done things
Which to the world impossible would seem,
But that the truth is held in more esteem.
Shall I report his former service done,
In honour of his God, and Christendom?
How that he did divide, from pagans three,
Their heads and lives, types of his chivalry?—
For which great service, in that climate done,
Brave Sigismundus, King of Hungarion,
Did give him, as a coat of arms, to wear
These conquered heads, got by his sword and spear.
Or shall I tell of his adventures since
Done in Virginia, that large continent?
How that he subdued kings unto his yoke,
And made those heathens flee, as wind doth smoke;
And made their land, being so large a station,
An habitation for our Christian nation,
Where God is glorified, their wants supplied;
Which else for necessaries, must have died.
But what avails his conquests, now he lies
Interred in earth, a prey to worms and flies?
Oh! may his soul in sweet Elysium sleep,
Until the Keeper, that all souls doth keep,
Return to judgment; and that after thence
With angels he may have his recompense."
Sir Robert Peake, the engraver, also found a last resting-place here. He is known as the master of William Faithorne—the famous English engraver of the seventeenth century—and governor of Basing House for the king during the Civil War under Charles I. He died in 1667. Here also was interred the body of Dr. Bell, grandfather of the originator of a well-known system of education.
"The churchyard of St. Sepulchre's," we learn from Maitland, "at one time extended so far into the street on the south side of the church, as to render the passage-way dangerously narrow. In 1760 the churchyard was, in consequence, levelled, and thrown open to the public. But this led to much inconvenience, and it was re-enclosed in 1802."
Sarah Malcolm, the murderess, was buried in the churchyard of St. Sepulchre's in 1733. This coldhearted and keen-eyed monster in human form has had her story told by us already. The parishioners seem, on this occasion, to have had no such scruples as had been exhibited by their predecessors a hundred and fifty years previous at the burial of Awfield, a traitor. We shall see presently that in those more remote days they were desirous of having at least respectable company for their deceased relatives and friends in the churchyard.
"For a long period," says Mr. Godwin (1838), "the church was surrounded by low mean buildings, by which its general appearance was hidden; but these having been cleared away, and the neighbourhood made considerably more open, St. Sepulchre's now forms a somewhat pleasing object, notwithstanding that the tower and a part of the porch are so entirely dissimilar in style to the remainder of the building." And since Godwin's writing the surroundings of the church have been so improved that perhaps few buildings in the metropolis stand more prominently before the public eye.
In the glorious roll of martyrs who have suffered at the stake for their religious principles, a vicar of St. Sepulchre's, the Reverend John Rogers, occupies a conspicuous place. He was the first who was burned in the reign of the Bloody Mary. This eminent person had at one time been chaplain to the English merchants at Antwerp, and while residing in that city had aided Tindal and Coverdale in their great work of translating the Bible. He married a German lady of good position, by whom he had a large family, and was enabled, by means of her relations, to reside in peace and safety in Germany. It appeared to be his duty, however, to return to England, and there publicly profess and advocate his religious convictions, even at the risk of death. He crossed the sea; he took his place in the pulpit at St. Paul's Cross; he preached a fearless and animated sermon, reminding his astonished audience of the pure and wholesome doctrine which had been promulgated from that pulpit in the days of the good King Edward, and solemnly warning them against the pestilent idolatry and superstition of these new times. It was his last sermon. He was apprehended, tried, condemned, and burned at Smithfield. We described, when speaking of Smithfield, the manner in which he met his fate.
Connected with the martyrdom of Rogers an odd circumstance is quoted in the "Churches of London." It is stated that when the bishops had resolved to put to death Joan Bocher, a friend came to Rogers and earnestly entreated his influence that the poor woman's life might be spared, and other means taken to prevent the spread of her heterodox doctrines. Rogers, however, contended that she should be executed; and his friend then begged him to choose some other kind of death, which should be more agreeable to the gentleness and mercy prescribed in the gospel. "No," replied Rogers, "burning alive is not a cruel death, but easy enough." His friend hearing these words, expressive of so little regard for the sufferings of a fellow-creature, answered him with great vehemence, at the same time striking Rogers' hand, "Well, it may perhaps so happen that you yourself shall have your hands full of this mild burning." There is no record of Rogers among the papers belonging to St. Sepulchre's, but this may easily be accounted for by the fact that at the Great Fire of 1666 nearly all the registers and archives were destroyed.
A noteworthy incident in the history of St. Sepulchre's was connected with the execution, in 1585, of Awfield, for "sparcinge abrood certen lewed, sedicious, and traytorous bookes." "When he was executed," says Fleetwood, the Recorder, in a letter to Lord Burleigh, July 7th of that year, "his body was brought unto St. Pulcher's to be buryed, but the parishioners would not suffer a traytor's corpse to be laid in the earth where their parents, wives, children, kindred, masters, and old neighbours did rest; and so his carcass was returned to the burial-ground near Tyburn, and there I leave it."
Another event in the history of the church is a tale of suicide. On the 10th of April, 1600, a man named William Dorrington threw himself from the roof of the tower, leaving there a prayer for forgiveness.
We come now to speak of the connection of St. Sepulchre's with the neighbouring prison of Newgate. Being the nearest church to the prison, that connection naturally was intimate. Its clock served to give the time to the hangman when there was an execution in the Old Bailey, and many a poor wretch's last moments must it have regulated.
On the right-hand side of the altar a board with a list of charitable donations and gifts used to contain the following item:—"1605. Mr. Robert Dowe gave, for ringing the greatest bell in this church on the day the condemned prisoners are executed, and for other services, for ever, concerning such condemned prisoners, for which services the sexton is paid £16s. 8d.—£50.
It was formerly the practice for the clerk or bellman of St. Sepulchre's to go under Newgate, on the night preceding the execution of a criminal, ring his bell, and repeat the following wholesome advice:—
"All you that in the condemned hold do lie,
Prepare you, for to-morrow you shall die;
Watch all, and pray, the hour is drawing near
That you before the Almighty must appear;
Examine well yourselves, in time repent,
That you may not to eternal flames be sent.
And when St. Sepulchre's bell to-morrow tolls,
The Lord above have mercy on your souls.
Past twelve o'clock!"
This practice is explained by a passage in Munday's edition of Stow, in which it is told that a Mr. John Dowe, citizen and merchant taylor of London, gave £50 to the parish church of St. Sepulchre's, under the following conditions:—After the several sessions of London, on the night before the execution of such as were condemned to death, the clerk of the church was to go in the night-time, and also early in the morning, to the window of the prison in which they were lying. He was there to ring "certain tolls with a hand-bell" appointed for the purpose, and was afterwards, in a most Christian manner, to put them in mind of their present condition and approaching end, and to exhort them to be prepared, as they ought to be, to die. When they were in the cart, and brought before the walls of the church, the clerk was to stand there ready with the same bell, and, after certain tolls, rehearse a prayer, desiring all the people there present to pray for the unfortunate criminals. The beadle, also, of Merchant Taylors' Hall was allowed an "honest stipend" to see that this ceremony was regularly performed.
The affecting admonition—"affectingly good," Pennant calls it—addressed to the prisoners in Newgate, on the night before execution, ran as follows:—
"You prisoners that are within,
Who, for wickedness and sin,
after many mercies shown you, are now appointed to die to-morrow in the forenoon; give ear and understand that, to-morrow morning, the greatest bell of St. Sepulchre's shall toll for you, in form and manner of a passing-bell, as used to be tolled for those that are at the point of death; to the end that all godly people, hearing that bell, and knowing it is for your going to your deaths, may be stirred up heartily to pray to God to bestow his grace and mercy upon you, whilst you live. I beseech you, for Jesus Christ's sake, to keep this night in watching and prayer, to the salvation of your own souls while there is yet time and place for mercy; as knowing to-morrow you must appear before the judgment-seat of your Creator, there to give an account of all things done in this life, and to suffer eternal torments for your sins committed against Him, unless, upon your hearty and unfeigned repentance, you find mercy through the merits, death, and passion of your only Mediator and Advocate, Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return to Him."
And the following was the admonition to condemned criminals, as they were passing by St. Sepulchre's Church wall to execution:—" All good people, pray heartily unto God for these poor sinners, who are now going to their death, for whom this great bell doth toll.
"You that are condemned to die, repent with lamentable tears; ask mercy of the Lord, for the salvation of your own souls, through the [merits, death, and passion of Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return unto Him.
"Lord have mercy upon you;
Christ have mercy upon you.
Lord have mercy upon you;
Christ have mercy upon you."
The charitable Mr. Dowe, who took such interest in the last moments of the occupants of the condemned cell, was buried in the church of St. Botolph, Aldgate.
Another curious custom observed at St. Sepulchre's was the presentation of a nosegay to every criminal on his way to execution at Tyburn. No doubt the practice had its origin in some kindly feeling for the poor unfortunates who were so soon to bid farewell to all the beauties of earth. One of the last who received a nosegay from the steps of St. Sepulchre's was "Sixteen-string Jack," alias John Rann, who was hanged, in 1774, for robbing the Rev. Dr. Bell of his watch and eighteen pence in money, in Gunnersbury Lane, on the road to Brentford. Sixteen-string Jack wore the flowers in his button-hole as he rode dolefully to the gallows. This was witnessed by John Thomas Smith, who thus describes the scene in his admirable anecdotebook, "Nollekens and his Times:"—" I remember well, when I was in my eighth year, Mr. Nollekens calling at my father's house, in Great Portland Street, and taking us to Oxford Street, to see the notorious Jack Rann, commonly called Sixteenstring Jack, go to Tyburn to be hanged. … The criminal was dressed in a pea-green coat, with an immense nosegay in the button-hole, which had been presented to him at St. Sepulchre's steps; and his nankeen small-clothes, we were told, were tied at each knee with sixteen strings. After he had passed, and Mr. Nollekens was leading me home by the hand, I recollect his stooping down to me and observing, in a low tone of voice, 'Tom, now, my little man, if my father-in-law, Mr. Justice Welch, had been high constable, we could have walked by the side of the cart all the way to Tyburn.'"
When criminals were conveyed from Newgate to Tyburn, the cart passed up Giltspur Street, and through Smithfield, to Cow Lane. Skinner Street had not then been built, and the Crooked Lane which turned down by St. Sepulchre's, as well as Ozier Lane, did not afford sufficient width to admit of the cavalcade passing by either of them, with convenience, to Holborn Hill, or "the Heavy Hill," as it used to be called. The procession seems at no time to have had much of the solemn element about it. "The heroes of the day were often," says a popular writer, "on good terms with the mob, and jokes were exchanged between the men who were going to be hanged and the men who deserved to be."
"On St. Paul's Day," says Mr. Timbs (1868), "service is performed in St. Sepulchre's, in accordance with the will of Mr. Paul Jervis, who, in 1717, devised certain land in trust that a sermon should be preached in the church upon every Paul's Day upon the excellence of the liturgy o the Church of England; the preacher to receive 40s. for such sermon. Various sums are also bequeathed to the curate, the clerk, the treasurer, and masters of the parochial schools. To the poor of the parish he bequeathed 20s. a-piece to ten of the poorest householders within that part of the parish of St. Sepulchre commonly called Smithfield quarter, £4 to the treasurer of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, and 6s. 8d. yearly to the clerk, who shall attend to receive the same. The residue of the yearly rents and profits is to be distributed unto and amongst such poor people of the parish of St. Sepulchre's, London, who shall attend the service and sermon. At the close of the service the vestry-clerk reads aloud an extract from the will, and then proceeds to the distribution of the money. In the evening the vicar, churchwardens, and common councilmen of the precinct dine together."
In 1749, a Mr. Drinkwater made a praiseworthy bequest. He left the parish of St. Sepulchre £500 to be lent in sums of £25 to industrious young tradesmen. No interest was to be charged, and the money was to be lent for four years.
Next to St. Sepulchre's, on Snow Hill, used to stand the famous old inn of the "Saracen's Head." It was only swept away within the last few years by the ruthless army of City improvers: a view of it in course of demolition was given on page 439. It was one of the oldest of the London inns which bore the "Saracen's Head" for a sign. One of Dick Tarlton's jests makes mention of the "Saracen's Head" without Newgate, and Stow, describing this neighbourhood, speaks particularly of "a fair large inn for receipt of travellers" that "hath to sign the 'Saracen's Head.'" The courtyard had, to the last, many of the characteristics of an old English inn; there were galleries all round leading to the bedrooms, and a spacious gateway through which the dusty mail-coaches used to rumble, the tired passengers creeping forth "thanking their stars in having escaped the highwaymen and the holes and sloughs of the road." Into that courtyard how many have come on their first arrival in London with hearts beating high with hope, some of whom have risen to be aldermen and sit in state as lord mayor, whilst others have gone the way of the idle apprentice and come to a sad end at Tyburn! It was at this inn that Nicholas Nickleby and his uncle waited upon the Yorkshire schoolmaster Squeers, of Dotheboys Hall. Mr. Dickens describes the tavern as it existed in the last days of mail-coaching, when it was a most important place for arrivals and departures in London:—
"Next to the jail, and by consequence near to Smithfield also, and the Compter and the bustle and noise of the City, and just on that particular part of Snow Hill where omnibus horses going eastwards seriously think of falling down on purpose, and where horses in hackney cabriolets going westwards not unfrequently fall by accident, is the coach-yard of the 'Saracen's Head' inn, its portals guarded by two Saracen's heads and shoulders, which it was once the pride and glory of the choice spirits of this metropolis to pull down at night, but which have for some time remained in undisturbed tranquillity, possibly because this species of humour is now confined to St. James's parish, where doorknockers are preferred as being more portable, and bell-wires esteemed as convenient tooth-picks. Whether this be the reason or not, there they are, frowning upon you from each side of the gateway; and the inn itself, garnished with another Saracen's head, frowns upon you from the top of the yard; while from the door of the hind-boot of all the red coaches that are standing therein, there glares a small Saracen's head with a twin expression to the large Saracen's head below, so that the general appearance of the pile is of the Saracenic order."
To explain the use of the Saracen's head as an inn sign various reasons have been given. "When our countrymen," says Selden, "came home from fighting with the Saracens and were beaten by them, they pictured them with huge, big, terrible faces (as you still see the 'Saracen's Head' is), when in truth they were like other men. But this they did to save their own credit." Or the sign may have been adopted by those who had visited the Holy Land either as pilgrims or to fight the Saracens. Others, again, hold that it was first set up in compliment to the mother of Thomas à Becket, who was the daughter of a Saracen. However this may be, it is certain that the use of the sign in former days was very general.
Running past the east end of St. Sepulchre's, from Newgate into West Smithfield, is Giltspur Street, anciently called Knightriders Street. This interesting thoroughfare derives its name from the knights with their gilt spurs having been accustomed to ride this way to the jousts and tournaments which in days of old were held in Smithfield.
In this street was Giltspur Street Compter, a debtors' prison and house of correction appertaining to the sheriffs of London and Middlesex. It stood over against St. Sepulchre's Church, and was removed hither from the east side of Wood Street, Cheapside, in 1791. At the time of its removal it was used as a place of imprisonment for debtors, but the yearly increasing demands upon the contracted space caused that department to be given up, and City debtors were sent to Whitecross Street. The architect was Dance, to whom we are also indebted for the grim pile of Newgate. The Compter was a dirty and appropriately convictlooking edifice. It was pulled down in 1855. Mr. Hepworth Dixon gave an interesting account of this City House of Correction, not long before its demolition, in his "London Prisons" (1850). "Entering," he says, "at the door facing St. Sepulchre's, the visitor suddenly finds himself in a low dark passage, leading into the offices of the gaol, and branching off into other passages, darker, closer, more replete with noxious smells, than even those of Newgate. This is the fitting prelude to what follows. The prison, it must be noticed, is divided into two principal divisions, the House of Correction and the Compter. The front in Giltspur Street, and the side nearest to Newgate Street, is called the Compter. In its wards are placed detenues of various kinds—remands, committals from the police-courts, and generally persons waiting for trial, and consequently still unconvicted. The other department, the House of Correction, occupies the back portion of the premises, abutting on Christ's Hospital. Curious it is to consider how thin a wall divides these widely-separate worlds! And sorrowful it is to think what a difference of destiny awaits the children—destiny inexorable, though often unearned in either case—who, on the one side of it or the other, receive an eleemosynary education! The collegian and the criminal! Who shall say how much mere accident— circumstances over which the child has little power —determines to a life of usefulness or mischief? From the yards of Giltspur Street prison almost the only objects visible, outside of the gaol itself, are the towers of Christ's Hospital; the only sounds audible, the shouts of the scholars at their play. The balls of the hospital boys often fall within the yards of the prison. Whether these sights and sounds ever cause the criminal to pause and reflect upon the courses of his life, we will not say, but the stranger visiting the place will be very apt to think for him. …
"In the department of the prison called the House of Correction, minor offenders within the City of London are imprisoned. No transports are sent hither, nor is any person whose sentence is above three years in length." This able writer then goes on to tell of the many crying evils connected with the institution—the want of air, the over-crowded state of the rooms, the absence of proper cellular accommodation, and the vicious intercourse carried on amongst the prisoners. The entire gaol, when he wrote, only contained thirty-six separate sleeping-rooms. Now by the highest prison calculation—and this, be it noted, proceeds on the assumption that three persons can sleep in small, miserable, unventilated cells, which are built for only one, and are too confined for that, being only about one-half the size of the model cell for one at Pentonville—it was only capable of accommodating 203 prisoners, yet by the returns issued at Michaelmas, 1850, it contained 246!
A large section of the prison used to be devoted to female delinquents, but lately it was almost entirely given up to male offenders.
"The House of Correction, and the Compter portion of the establishment," says Mr. Dixon, "are kept quite distinct, but it would be difficult to award the palm of empire in their respective facilities for demoralisation. We think the Compter rather the worse of the two. You are shown into a room, about the size of an apartment in an ordinary dwelling-house, which will be found crowded with from thirty to forty persons, young and old, and in their ordinary costume; the low thief in his filth and rags, and the member of the swell-mob with his bright buttons, flash finery, and false jewels. Here you notice the boy who has just been guilty of his first offence, and committed for trial, learning with a greedy mind a thousand criminal arts, and listening with the precocious instinct of guilty passions to stories and conversations the most depraved and disgusting. You regard him with a mixture of pity and loathing, for he knows that the eyes of his peers are upon him, and he stares at you with a familiar impudence, and exhibits a devil-may-care countenance, such as is only to be met with in the juvenile offender. Here, too, may be seen the young clerk, taken up on suspicion—perhaps innocent—who avoids you with a shy look of pain and uneasiness: what a hell must this prison be to him! How frightful it is to think of a person really untainted with crime, compelled to herd for ten or twenty days with these abandoned wretches!
"On the other, the House of Correction side of the gaol, similar rooms will be found, full of prisoners communicating with each other, laughing and shouting without hindrance. All this is so little in accordance with existing notions of prison discipline, that one is continually fancying these disgraceful scenes cannot be in the capital of England, and in the year of grace 1850. Very few of the prisoners attend school or receive any instruction; neither is any kind of employment afforded them, except oakum-picking, and the still more disgusting labour of the treadmill. When at work, an officer is in attendance to prevent disorderly conduct; but his presence is of no avail as a protection to the less depraved. Conversation still goes on; and every facility is afforded for making acquaintances, and for mutual contamination."
After having long been branded by intelligent inspectors as a disgrace to the metropolis, Giltspur Street Compter was condemned, closed in 1854, and subsequently taken down.
Nearly opposite what used to be the site of the Compter, and adjoining Cock Lane, is the spot called Pie Corner, near which terminated the Great Fire of 1666. The fire commenced at Pudding Lane, it will be remembered, so it was singularly appropriate that it should terminate at Pie Corner. Under the date of 4th September, 1666, Pepys, in his "Diary," records that "W. Hewer this day went to see how his mother did, and comes home late, telling us how he hath been forced to remove her to Islington, her house in Pye Corner being burned; so that the fire is got so far that way." The figure of a fat naked boy stands over a public house at the corner of the lane; it used to have the following warning inscription attached:— "This boy is in memory put up of the late fire of London, occasioned by the sin of gluttony, 1666." According to Stow, Pie Corner derived its name from the sign of a well-frequented hostelry, which anciently stood on the spot. Strype makes honourable mention of Pie Corner, as "noted chiefly for cooks' shops and pigs dressed there during Bartholomew Fair." Our old writers have many references—and not all, by the way, in the best taste—to its cookstalls and dressed pork. Shadwell, for instance, in the Woman Captain (1680) speaks of "meat dressed at Pie Corner by greasy scullions;" and Ben Jonson writes in the Alchemist (1612)—
"I shall put you in mind, sir, at Pie Corner,
Taking your meal of steam in from cooks' stalls."
And in "The Great Boobee" ("Roxburgh Ballads"):
"Next day I through Pie Corner passed;
The roast meat on the stall
Invited me to take a taste;
My money was but small."
But Pie Corner seems to have been noted for more than eatables. A ballad from Tom D'Urfey's "Pills to Purge Melancholy," describing Bartholomew Fair, eleven years before the Fire of London, says:—
"At Pie-Corner end, mark well my good friend,
'Tis a very fine dirty place;
Where there's more arrows and bows. …
Than was handled at Chivy Chase."
We have already given a view of Pie Corner in our chapter on Smithfield, page 361.
Hosier Lane, running from Cow Lane to Smithfield, and almost parallel to Cock Lane, is described by "R. B.," in Strype, as a place not over-well built or inhabited. The houses were all old timber erections. Some of these—those standing at the south corner of the lane—were in the beginning of this century depicted by Mr. J. T. Smith, in his "Ancient Topography of London." He describes them as probably of the reign of James I. The rooms were small, with low, unornamented ceilings; the timber, oak, profusely used; the gables were plain, and the walls lath and plaster. They were taken down in 1809.
In the corner house, in Mr. Smith's time, there was a barber whose name was Catchpole; at least, so it was written over the door. He was rather an odd fellow, and possessed, according to his own account, a famous relic of antiquity. He would gravely show his customers a short-bladed instrument, as the identical dagger with which Walworth killed Wat Tyler.
Hosier Lane, like Pie Corner, used to be a great resort during the time of Bartholomew Fair, "all the houses," it is said in Strype, "generally being made public for tippling."
We return now from our excursion to the north of St. Sepulchre's, and continue our rambles to the west, and before speaking of what is, let us refer to what has been.
Turnagain Lane is not far from this. "Near unto this Seacoal Lane," remarks Stow, "in the turning towards Holborn Conduit, is Turnagain Lane, or rather, as in a record of the 5th of Edward III., Windagain Lane, for that it goeth down west to Fleet Dyke, from whence men must turn again the same way they came, but there it stopped." There used to be a proverb, "He must take him a house in Turnagain Lane."
A conduit formerly stood on Snow Hill, a little below the church. It is described as a building with four equal sides, ornamented with four columns and pediment, surmounted by a pyramid, on which stood a lamb—a rebus on the name of Lamb, from whose conduit in Red Lion Street the water came. There had been a conduit there, however, before Lamb's day, which was towards the close of the sixteenth century.
At No. 37, King Street, Snow Hill, there used to be a ladies' charity school, which was established in 1702, and remained in the parish 145 years. Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale were subscribers to this school, and Johnson drew from it his story of Betty Broom, in "The Idler." The world of domestic service, in Betty's days, seems to have been pretty much as now. Betty was a poor girl, bred in the country at a charity-school, maintained by the contributions of wealthy neighbours. The patronesses visited the school from time to time, to see how the pupils got on, and everything went well, till "at last, the chief of the subscribers having passed a winter in London, came down full of an opinion new and strange to the whole country. She held it little less than criminal to teach poor girls to read and write. They who are born to poverty, she said, are born to ignorance, and will work the harder the less they know. She told her friends that London was in confusion by the insolence of servants; that scarcely a girl could be got for all-work, since education had made such numbers of fine ladies, that nobody would now accept a lower title than that of a waiting-maid, or something that might qualify her to wear laced shoes and long ruffles, and to sit at work in the parlour window. But she was resolved, for her part, to spoil no more girls. Those who were to live by their hands should neither read nor write out of her pocket. The world was bad enough already, and she would have no part in making it worse.
"She was for a long time warmly opposed; but she persevered in her notions, and withdrew her subscription. Few listen, without a desire of conviction, to those who advise them to spare their money. Her example and her arguments gained ground daily; and in less than a year the whole parish was convinced that the nation would be ruined if the children of the poor were taught to read and write." So the school was dissolved, and Betty with the rest was turned adrift into the wide and cold world; and her adventures there any one may read in "The Idler" for himself.
There is an entry in the school minutes of 1763, to the effect that the ladies of the committee censured the schoolmistress for listening to the story of the Cock Lane ghost, and "desired her to keep her belief in the article to herself."
Skinner Street—now one of the names of the past—which ran by the south side of St. Sepulchre's, and formed the connecting link between Newgate Street and Holborn, received its name from Alderman Skinner, through whose exertions, about 1802, it was principally built. The following account of Skinner Street is from the picturesque pen of Mr. William Harvey ("Aleph"), whose long familiarity with the places he describes renders doubly valuable his many contributions to the history of London scenes and people:—"As a building speculation," he says, writing in 1863, "it was a failure. When the buildings were ready for occupation, tall and substantial as they really were, the high rents frightened intending shopkeepers. Tenants were not to be had; and in order to get over the money difficulty, a lottery, sanctioned by Parliament, was commenced. Lotteries were then common tricks of finance, and nobody wondered at the new venture; but even the most desperate fortune-hunters were slow to invest their capital, and the tickets hung sadly on hand. The day for the drawing was postponed several times, and when it came, there was little or no excitement on the subject, and whoever rejoiced in becoming a house-owner on such easy terms, the original projectors and builders were understood to have suffered considerably. The winners found the property in a very unfinished condition. Few of the dwellings were habitable, and as funds were often wanting, a majority of the houses remained empty, and the shops unopened. After two or three years things began to improve; the vast many-storeyed house which then covered the site of Commercial Place was converted into a warehousing depôt; a capital house opposite the 'Saracen's Head' was taken by a hosier of the name of Theobald, who, opening his shop with the determination of selling the best hosiery, and nothing else, was able to convince the citizens that his hose was first-rate, and, desiring only a living profit, succeeded, after thirty years of unwearied industry, in accumulating a large fortune. Theobald was possessed of literary tastes, and at the sale of Sir Walter Scott's manuscripts was a liberal purchaser. He also collected a library of exceedingly choice books, and when aristocratic customers purchased stockings of him, was soon able to interest them in matters of far higher interest…
"The most remarkable shop—but it was on the left-hand side, at a corner house—was that established for the sale of children's books. It boasted an immense extent of window-front, extending from the entrance into Snow Hill, and towards Fleet Market. Many a time have I lingered with loving eyes over those fascinating story-books, so rich in gaily-coloured prints; such careful editions of the marvellous old histories, 'Puss in Boots,' 'Cock Robin,' 'Cinderella,' and the like. Fortunately the front was kept low, so as exactly to suit the capacity of a childish admirer. . . . . But Skinner Street did not prosper much, and never could compete with even the dullest portions of Holborn. I have spoken of some reputable shops; but you know the proverb, 'One swallow will not make a summer,' and it was a declining neighbourhood almost before it could be called new. In 1810 the commercial depôt, which had been erected at a cost of £25,000, and was the chief prize in the lottery, was destroyed by fire, never to be rebuilt—a heavy blow and discouragement to Skinner Street, from which it never rallied. Perhaps the periodical hanging-days exercised an unfavourable influence, collecting, as they frequently did, all the thieves and vagabonds of London. I never sympathised with Pepys or Charles Fox in their passion for public executions, and made it a point to avoid those ghastly sights; but early of a Monday morning, when I had just reached the end of Giltspur Street, a miserable wretch had just been turned off from the platform of the debtors' door, and I was made the unwilling witness of his last struggles. That scene haunted me for months, and I often used to ask myself, 'Who that could help it would live in Skinner Street?' The next unpropitious event in these parts was the unexpected closing of the child's library. What could it mean? Such a well-to-do establishment shut up? Yes, the whole army of shutters looked blankly on the inquirer, and forbade even a single glance at 'Sinbad' or 'Robinson Crusoe.' It would soon be re-opened, we naturally thought; but the shutters never came down again. The whole house was deserted; not even a messenger in bankruptcy, or an ancient Charley, was found to regard the playful double knocks of the neighbouring juveniles. Gradually the glass of all the windows got broken in, a heavy cloud of black dust, solidifying into inches thick, gathered on sills and doors and brickwork, till the whole frontage grew as gloomy as Giant Despair's Castle. Not long after, the adjoining houses shared the same fate, and they remained from year to year without the slightest sign of life—absolute scarecrows, darkening with their uncomfortable shadows the busy streets. Within half a mile, in Stamford Street, Blackfriars, there are (1863) seven houses in a similar predicament— window-glass demolished, doors cracked from top to bottom, spiders' webs hanging from every projecting sill or parapet. What can it mean? The loss in the article of rents alone must be over £1,000 annually. If the real owners are at feud with imaginary owners, surely the property might be rendered valuable, and the proceeds invested. Even the lawyers can derive no profit from such hopeless abandonment. I am told the whole mischief arose out of a Chancery suit. Can it be the famous 'Jarndyce v. Jarndyce' case? And have all the heirs starved each other out? If so, what hinders our lady the Queen from taking possession? Any change would be an improvement, for these dead houses make the streets they cumber as dispiriting and comfortless as graveyards. Busy fancy will sometimes people them, and fill the dreary rooms with strange guests. Do the victims of guilt congregate in these dark dens? Do wretches 'unfriended by the world or the world's law,' seek refuge in these deserted nooks, mourning in the silence of despair over their former lives, and anticipating the future in unappeasable agony? Such things have been—the silence and desolation of these doomed dwellings make them the more suitable for such tenants."
A street is nothing without a mystery, so a mystery let these old tumble-down houses remain, whilst we go on to tell that, in front of No. 58, the sailor Cashman was hung in 1817, as we have already mentioned, for plundering a gunsmith's shop there. William Godwin, the author of "Caleb Williams," kept a bookseller's shop for several years in Skinner Street, at No. 41, and published school-books in the name of Edward Baldwin. On the wall there was a stone carving of Æsop reciting one of his fables to children.
The most noteworthy event of the life of Godwin was his marriage with the celebrated Mary Wollstonecraft, authoress of a "Vindication of the Rights of Women," whose congenial mind, in politics and morals, he ardently admired. Godwin's account of the way in which they got on together is worth reading:—"Ours," he writes, "was not an idle happiness, a paradise of selfish and transitory pleasures. It is, perhaps, scarcely necessary to mention, that influenced by ideas I had long entertained, I engaged an apartment about twenty doors from our house, in the Polygon, Somers Town, which I designed for the purpose of my study and literary occupations. Trifles, however, will be interesting to some readers, when they relate to the last period of the life of such a person as Mary. I will add, therefore, that we were both of us of opinion, that it was possible for two persons to be too uniformly in each other's society. Influenced by that opinion, it was my practice to repair to the apartment I have mentioned as soon as I rose, and frequently not to make my appearance in the Polygon till the hour of dinner. We agreed in condemning the notion, prevalent in many situations in life, that a man and his wife cannot visit in mixed society but in company with each other, and we rather sought occasions of deviating from than of complying with this rule. By this means, though, for the most part, we spent the latter half of each day in one another's society, yet we were in no danger of satiety. We seemed to combine, in a considerable degree, the novelty and lively sensation of a visit with the more delicious and heartfelt pleasure of a domestic life."
This philosophic union, to Godwin's inexpressible affliction, did not last more than eighteen months, at the end of which time Mrs. Godwin died, leaving an only daughter, who in the course of time became the second wife of the poet Shelley, and was the author of the wild and extraordinary tale of "Frankenstein."
First, wow, thanks so much everyone for your concern! So far, so good.
The good news about living in Oklahoma is that when severe weather is so common, the weathermen break everything down to probabilities beyond what's typical for any local weather...
Severe weather here isn't expected until after 5 p.m., so plenty of time to eat lunch, watch a little TV for leisure and cart all those dollies into a storm shelter just in case!
Image source:
www.flickr.com/photos/calliope/3474510093/
Read the article on opensource.com
Darwinism determining the future of cloud computing?
Part III: Moneyball medicine, narratives, probabilities, and making better medical decisions
Created by Libby Levi for opensource.com
Forex Mastery is a system which contains a course and software tools to help traders of all levels place more high probability low risk trades. This is a Support/Resistance type system but it uses proprietary levels called Bias and Key numbers.
The Bias and Key numbers of regularly updated support/resistance levels for each currency pair. These numbers are calculated by using 4 separate behind-the-scences, software programs and 8-9 technical indicators. This process of continually updated numbers have been in development for a number of years.
forexrobotrading.com/forex-mastery-2-review/
Addition of 2 new platforms for the M3 Navigator Software to operate, Trade Station and Ninja Trader. Students asked for these additional platforms and Forex Mastery delivered.
Enhancements include the Slingshot indicator and the Slingshot enhanced Market Scanner. Students have had access to these for the last several weeks, with some tremendous results. Forex Mastery had 2 students that joined them in November 2009 and have gravy trains of over 6000 and 7000 PIPs respectively, utilizing the Slingshot enhancements. This is one of the reasons why they are calling Forex Mastery a game changer.
A futuristic female android, sculpted from intricate chrome circuitry and flowing silver filaments, kneels amid a field of enormous dice. Her metallic body gleams under soft studio light, reflecting the uncertainty of chance and control. Each die seems alive, suspended between motion and fate, symbolizing the chaos of destiny encoded in algorithms. Her hair flows like liquid metal in zero gravity — a goddess of randomness, beauty, and the unending gamble of artificial creation.