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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.
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Technical stuff:
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f/2.8
21 mm
16min 10 sec.
ISO 50
2 x Lee Big Stopper
Total of 20 stops
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
High temps and high humidity means high probability I will be wearing shorts soon! Couldn’t resist. One of the few occasions where I love wearing beige pantyhose!💕
Malibu Fine Art Sea Cave 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.
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Join my new 45EPIC fine art landscapes page on facebook!
In the admist of an electronic gaming trade show. Game publishers go through great lengths to lure retailers and potential video game buyers.
SquareEnix can be spotted on the side of 3 office buildings in Downtown L.A. promoting the upcoming fantasy RPG "Final Fantasy XIII" during the Electronic Entertainment Expo 2009 (E3 2009) trade show.
This is just another example how major the gaming industry has become.
Grasslands National Park, SK.
In researching this animal, I found Wikipedia very informative. Here's another excerpt on how this species facing extinction was helped to survive by a hunter-based conservation organization:
"At the turn of the 20th century, members of the wildlife conservation group Boone and Crockett Club had determined that extinction of the pronghorn was more of a probability than a possibility. In a letter from George Bird Grinnell, Boone and Crockett Club chairman of the game preservation committee, to Walter L. Fisher, Secretary of the Interior, Grinnell stated, "The Club is much concerned about the fate of the pronghorn which appears to be everywhere rapidly diminishing." By the 1920s, hunting pressure had reduced the pronghorn population to about 13,000.[6] Boone and Crockett Club member Charles Sheldon, in a letter to fellow member Grinnell, wrote, "Personally, I think that the antelope are doomed, yet every attempt should be made to save them."
Although the Club had begun their efforts to save the pronghorn in 1910 by funding and restocking the Wichita Game Refuge in Kansas, the National Bison Range in Montana, and the Wind Cave National Park, in South Dakota, most of the efforts were doomed since experience demonstrated that after initial increases the pronghorns would die off because of the fenced enclosures.
In 1927, Grinnell spearheaded efforts along with the help of T. Gilbert Pearson of Grinnell's National Audubon Society to create the Charles Sheldon Antelope Refuge in northern Nevada. About 2900 acres of land were jointly purchased by the two organizations and subsequently turned over to the Biological Survey as a pronghorn refuge. This donation was contingent upon the government's adding 30,000 acres of surrounding public lands.
On June 20, 1929, President Hoover included the required public lands upon request of the Department of Agriculture and the Department of the Interior after learning that the Boone and Crockett Club and the National Audubon Society were underwriting the private land buyout. On January 26, 1931, Hoover signed the executive order for the refuge. On December 31, 1936, president Franklin Roosevelt signed an executive order creating a 549,000-acre tract; this was the true beginning for pronghorn recovery in North America.
Protection of habitat and hunting restrictions have allowed pronghorn numbers to recover to an estimated population between 500,000 and 1,000,000 (excluding the Sonoran pronghorn, which is down to about 200). Some recent decline has occurred in a few localized populations, due to bluetongue disease, which is spread from sheep, but the overall trend has been positive since conservation measures were put in place.
Pronghorn migration corridors are threatened by habitat fragmentation and the blocking of traditional routes. In a migration study conducted by Lava Lake Institute for Science and Conservation and the Wildlife Conservation Society, at one point, the migration corridor bottlenecks to an area only 200 yards wide.
Pronghorns are now quite numerous, and outnumbered people in Wyoming and parts of northern Colorado until just recently. They are legally hunted in western states for purposes of population control and food. No major range-wide threats exist, although localized declines are taking place, particularly to the Sonoran pronghorn, mainly as a result of, among others, livestock grazing, the construction of roads, fences, and other barriers that prevent access to historical habitat, illegal hunting, insufficient forage and water, and lack of recruitment.
Three subspecies are considered endangered in all (A. a. sonoriensis, A. a. peninsularis), or part of their ranges (A. a. mexicana). Populations of the Sonoran pronghorn in Arizona and Mexico are protected under the Endangered Species Act (since 1967), and a recovery plan for this subspecies has been prepared by U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. Mexican animals are listed on CITES Appendix I. Pronghorns have game-animal status in all of the western states of the United States, and permits are required to trap or shoot pronghorns."
PROJ 595 Week 8 Final Exam
Purchase here
Description
1. (TCOs A and B) An EVM analysis employs which factors to evaluate risks? (Points : 5)
Risk and impact
Probability and urgency
Impact and probability
Decision trees and reliability of data
Question 2. 2. (TCO G) You have completed all design drawings and have a complete scope for your project. You need to hire a contractor to build the product to your designs. Which type of contract would be best in this situation? (Points : 5)
FPEPA
T&M
CPIF
FP
Question 3. 3. (TCO D) In which risk response strategy is the responsibility for the risk moved to a third party? (Points : 5)
Transference and sharing
Exploitation and avoidance
Acceptance and enhancement
Mitigation and active acceptance
4. (TCOs A and B) You have been appointed as a project manager for a high-dollar project for a government agency, and you have been asked by your boss to identify the stakeholder groups and the individuals who make up those groups in order to start the stakeholder analysis. Identify at least six groups of stakeholders and the individuals who comprise those groups, and explain when the stakeholder identification process should take place during the planning of the project. (Points : 20)
5. (TCO B) Due to globalization within your industry, you have been appointed as the project manager for an R & D project. Your task is to create a new technologically advanced solar cell. You want to employ the PMBOK® Guide risk management process. Senior management would like you to briefly describe the process and all its steps. Please create a short briefing for senior management below. (Points : 40)
12. (TCO I) You are the project manager on a critical project for your corporation. You have decided to employ fault-tree analysis on your project. What is fault-tree analysis, and how can it be applied to your project? (Points : 25)
11. (TCO H) Senior management is concerned about risk owners on your project. What is the role of a risk owner in the risk management process? (Points : 20)
9. (TCO F) You are a project manager for a large healthcare R & D project. Senior management has asked you to utilize a sensitivity analysis and a tornado diagram to quantify risks on your project. Senior management’s major concern is the price of raw materials in the development of the new drug. Describe how to perform a sensitivity analysis and use a tornado diagram to quantify risks to your project. (Points : 25)
10. (TCO G) Describe and discuss when one should use an FPEPA contract. Compare and contrast this to a typical FP contract. (Points : 20)
8. (TCO E) Senior management has just returned from a risk management workshop. One of the topics was reserve analysis. Management does not completely understand the concept and asks you what the purpose is of performing reserve analysis during the risk management process. (Points : 20)
7. (TCO D) You are the project manager for an important healthcare project. You are performing qualitative risk analysis. Below are the values of probability and impact for the top six risks that were given to you by project team. Assuming a neutral stakeholder tolerance, which risks must be addressed proactively if possible?(Points : 25)
6. (TCO C) You are the project manager for a large health information technology project. You are confronted with an important decision on your project: How much scenario testing is appropriate for this project? Employ decision tree analysis to provide senior management with the best course of action for this decision.
For this decision, you have three possible choices: no scenario testing of the design, moderate scenario testing of the design, or full scenario testing of the design. No scenario testing will incur no additional costs due to testing and has a 10% chance of a successful implementation. If it is unsuccessful, rework costs are likely to be $30 million. Moderate scenario testing will cost $5 million and has a 50% chance of success. If it is unsuccessful, rework costs are likely to be $30 million. Full scenario testing will cost $10 million and has a 90% chance of success. If it is unsuccessful, rework costs are likely to be $30 million. Which solution is appropriate for this project? (Points : 40)
Best viewed Original size.
Midland Railway built (1902) 3F 0-6-0 43754 spent all of its BR career allocated to Gloucester Barnwood (85E) depot, with the probability that much of that spent outstationed at Tewkesbury sub-shed where it is pictured - c.1958.
It was withdrawn from service on 17/11/1962.
Note the fine collection of fire irons propped up against the wall to the left.
Much of the following detail from www.steamsheds.co.uk
Tewkesbury, a subshed of Gloucester Barnwood (85E) MPD, was situated to the west of Tewkesbury station on the north side of the Quay branch. It was a brick built single road, straight, dead-end shed with a gable style slate roof. A ramped coal stage and water column were provided. It originally opened on 21/07/1840 and finally closed on 7th September 1962. The site was eventually developed for housing.
The large building with the chimney and roof lights was not part of the shed.
© 2015 - 53A Models of Hull Collection. Scanned from the original 120 monochrome negative; photograph by the late James S Doubleday.
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"I've been asked countless times how my powers work. And the best way I can try to explain it is that life is just charted by impacts and trajectories. A new impact leads to a new trajectory and then another and another. And I, well, I just dance between the impacts." - Domino
Character History
Domino (Neena Thurman) is a character appearing in American comic books published by Marvel Comics. The character is best known as a member of the mutant team X-Force. Created by writer Fabian Nicieza and artist/co-writer Rob Liefeld, Domino made her first full cover story appearance in X-Force #8 (March 1992) as an original member of the Wild Pack team led by the mutant Cable.
In addition to her exceptional marksmanship and hand-to-hand skills, Domino possesses mutant probability-altering powers. She often uses her skills as a mercenary, but has also been the partner, confidante, and love interest of the superhero Cable, a lieutenant in his militant group X-Force, and a member of the X-Men.
In other media outside comics, Domino has primarily appeared in video games, though she has made minor animated television appearances and a live-action film appearance in Deadpool 2 (2018), portrayed by Zazie Beetz.
Liefeld spoke on the conception of the character stating "I was obsessed with the game dominoes. And I always thought that a character who was 100% black and white would be a tremendous visual. So when the time came for New Mutants #98 I got the full reigns and I’m writing and drawing the book I had Deadpool, Domino, and Gideon....“What’s up with the luck power?” I told him that when you play dominoes, it’s a game of chance. When I pitched it to my editors they said, “Yeah, go with that. That’s good.”
Publication history
Apart from being a mainstay character in the first series of X-Force, Domino has had two limited self-titled series, one of which had her teaming with Puck against Lady Deathstrike and Donald Pierce. The second revealed her childhood.
The first female Domino to appear in Marvel comics was not the genuine Neena Thurman. A Domino imposter, a mutant shapeshifter named Copycat, first appeared in The New Mutants #98 (Feb. 1991), and continued to assume Neena's role in X-Force for a time.
The real Domino was first published in the main flashback story recalled by Cable in X-Force #8 (March 1992). Her current narrative, brief cameo, second appearance was published on the last page of X-Force #11 (June 1992).
Domino received two self-titled limited series. The first came in 1997 and ran for 3 issues. The next ran for four issues in 2003. She has also appeared in a number of issues of Cable & Deadpool (Marvel, 2004/2006 series), and joined the first Wolverine-led X-Force as of X-Force vol. 3 #8 (Dec. 2008).
Domino appeared in her own three-issue miniseries with Wolverine entitled X-Force: Sex and Violence, written by Christopher Yost and Craig Kyle and drawn by Gabriele Dell'Otto.
The story centers upon Domino and Wolverine's mission to resolve a situation from Domino's recent past. Chris Yost has said, "It's a chance for us to go in-depth into a couple of the characters.
In the story, Domino has a hit put out on her and Wolverine finds out about it. Essentially, it's the two of them going out to get that hit removed." Yost adds that the characters are up against the worst killers on the planet.
Domino was part of the main roster in Cable and X-Force (by Dennis Hopeless and Salvador Larroca), from 2012 to 2014. She guest stars in the 2014 X-Force, beginning in issue #7.
Domino starred in her own series again starting in 2018, which led into a limited series in 2019 titled Domino: Hotshots where she leads an all-female team. These were written by Gail Simone and drawn by David Baldeon.
Fictional History
Early Years
The woman who would become known as Domino was actually the result of a top-secret government breeding program intended to develop the perfect weapon, the clandestine super-soldier program Project Armageddon.
There she was subjected to tests by Dr. Rossini, which included at one point being given a cat she named "Christmas".
Domino was the only test subject to survive, but her "luck" power was deemed a failure to meet the project's goals. Domino's biological mother broke her out of the project and left her with Father Rudolpho Boschelli, in the Church of the Sacred Heart in Chicago. Domino eventually left the Church and became a mercenary.
Later, while working for the NSA, Domino was assigned to guard the genius Dr. Milo Thurman, whose analytical ability made him too dangerous for the government to let him roam free. Over time, Domino and Thurman fell in love and were married.
Thurman had a thing for Dante's "Inferno" and called Dom "Beatrice". The two separated after a raid on the facility by AIM, with Milo believing Domino had been killed during the altercation.
Six Pack
Domino later became a member of the mercenary group the Wild Pack, later known as the Six Pack. Six Pack was led by the mutant mercenary Cable and Domino became intimate with him. Wild Pack was mostly contracted to Mr. Tolliver, an arms dealer and used Cable's orbiting space station, Graymalkin, as a means of teleporting, or "body sliding", in and out of situations.
On a mission in Afghanistan, Six Pack learned that Stryfe was in charge of Mr. Tolliver's opium routes and they were contracted to take out the Soviet armored carriers that were in this route's way. After a brief battle, Stryfe and A.D.A.M. Unit Zero teleported away.
Cable scrapped the mission, much to the disliking of the team. Angry, Mr. Tolliver sent agents to kill Six Pack, but they were defeated. On another mission, Six Pack invaded a Hydra research facility in search of a stolen component.
Once inside, Hammer accidentally triggered a fail-safe and Baron von Strucker's image appeared everywhere, threatening to kill Six Pack, but they quickly retrieved the device and body slid out. Six Pack later found-out that they were working for A.I.M..
Feeling used, Six Pack decided to go after Stryfe in Uruguay. After entering an underground bunker, Six Pack battled their way into a control room, where Hammer began to download secret information from Stryfe onto a CD.
While waiting for the disk to finish downloading, Stryfe teleported behind Kane and grabbed his neck, demanding Hammer to give him the CD. Before Hammer could give Stryfe the CD, Cable shot him from behind.
Stryfe grabbed the disk telekinetically and set-off a self-destruct on the bunker. Cable teleported away, leaving Six Pack to fend for themselves. Domino went her separate way.
X-Force
Sometime later, Mr. Tolliver abducted Domino, replacing her with the shape-shifting mutant Copycat, so as to spy on Cable’s activities. Domino was watched-over and abused by Pico Halfghanagan and kept locked away for more than a year, while Copycat lived her life.
Arriving at Tolliver's base, Cable shot Pico and found Domino, in chains. After rescuing Domino, the pair battled Deadpool and Tolliver was seemingly killed in a helicopter explosion. As he teleported away, Cable requested Domino to track down X-Force.
While searching for X-Force, Domino found Copycat and rounded-up Grizzly and Hammer, former members of Six Pack. The group found Cable, Kane, and G.W. Bridge, all former members of Six Pack and, after a brief battle, Domino again went her own way.
After the loss of several squadmates, Cable asked Domino to join him as part of X-Force. Reluctant to work alongside people who knew Copycat as Domino better than her, Dom ultimately agreed.
During her time with the X-Force, Domino came into conflict with Donald Pierce and Lady Deathstrike, who had captured Milo Thurman and were attempting to download his mind to a computer. Dom stopped the process, but it cost Thurman his life.
Then, during Operation: Zero Tolerance, Domino was captured by a Prime Sentinel named Ekaterina Gryaznova. Domino had seriously injured Gryaznova three years previously while rescuing Dr. Rebecca Schuyler, when the robot Gryaznova had been piloting through a long distance cybernetic link was destroyed.
As revenge for these acts, Gryaznova had Domino implanted with a neural blocker that interfered with her synaptic relays, effectively shorting out her power and her coordination. The experience left Domino shaken, and as a result, she chose to leave X-Force, believing she could be of no use to the team in her current condition.
However, Dom was still very dangerous, proving it to herself by stopping a bank robbery single-handedly, which brought her to the attention of a federal agent. She also collaborated with Interpol to help take down a known criminal who was employing the services of the assassin known as Arcade to hire a new bodyguard. The assignment required her to fight a number of the world's top fighters, and also a former teammate, Shatterstar.
Following this, Domino had a volatile run in with Cable at his new safe-house in Hell's Kitchen, and an almost fatal encounter with the assassin Blockade, whose mind Cable vengefully wiped.
After recovering from Blockade's attack, Domino was found by Jesse Aaronson, who helped her find Gryaznova in exchange for Dom's help in finding his brother. During the fight with the "Gryphon" (Gryaznova's new identity), Jesse used his power to disrupt machinery to disable Dom's implant. So far it has stayed off. They then rejoined X-Force.
The FBI agent, who had begun tracking Domino after the bank robbery she'd foiled, finally caught up with her. Just as he was about to confront her, Dom was snatched out of the timeline by Halloween Jack, a refugee from the year 2099, who was fixated on Dom and tried to warn her about the impending death of her X-Force teammates. Dom ignored him and was returned to her normal timeline.
Much later, after the High Evolutionary had temporarily removed the powers of all the mutants on the planet and X-Force recruited Pete Wisdom to teach X-Force, Dom left the team and disappeared.
She resurfaced later, possessed by Aentaros, one of the malevolent spirits called The Undying. Aentaros planned to use Domino to kill Randall Shire, a mutant who was himself possessed by another Undying. With the fate of the world hanging in the balance, Domino was defeated by Cable, who managed to immobilize her with a special weapon. When Cable defeated Aentaros and the Undying, Dom escaped from custody, and resumed her "merc" ways to make some cash.
She was targeted for assassination by Marcus Tsung, a mutant with the power to murder, and so returned to X-Force for help. X-Force just barely managed to hold off Tsung, who was finally put down by Pete Wisdom's sister Romany, who also removed an alien symbiote from Dom's body. Dom remained with X-Force through the team faking their death after an LMD bomb almost killed them.
However, when X-Force came upon a top-secret plot to use alien technology to recreate a planet-moving engine, they apparently could not stop the bio-engineered defenders of the facility. Only Domino got out, and the rest of X-Force was presumed dead following the explosion they set off, leveling the alien tech base.
X-Corporation
Shortly thereafter, Domino was recruited by Professor X into the X-Corporation, an organization intended to monitor mutant rights violations. Domino was set up in Hong Kong, but when her partner Risque was killed, she called in the X-Men.
Together the mutants uncovered the truth behind John Sublime 's "Third Species" movement -namely, that he was harvesting body parts from living mutants to create his U-Men- and freed the mutant named Xorn. On this mission, Domino sported a special contact lens, with laser and zoom functions, and probably a good deal more.
Dom was also seen with the no-longer deceased X-Forcers at a press conference held by the new X-Force (led by Coach and the Orphan at the time).
The Perfect Weapon
During her solo period, Domino began to search for her mother, leading her to a secret base in Florida where she found a boy who had the same eye tattoo. The boy, Lazarus, was revealed to be her half-brother, and the true result of the Perfect Weapon program.
Dom was then confronted by her mother, who led a fanatical group of quasi-priests who were against the project, and was forced to shoot her to save Lazarus's life. She then took Lazarus to the church she was raised in (though her mother subsequently abducted him from there).
Domino then hooked up with Cable again, in his quest to find and destroy the new Weapon X Program and its secret Neverland base.
New Six Pack
Months later, when Cable unleashed and then purged the Facade virus all over the globe, she joined a new Six Pack team tasked with bringing Cable down. Cable did not stop the Pack's infiltration of his station, Providence, but also did not allow them to do any damage until Deadpool had neutralized his mental abilities. Domino and the Six Pack, however, were temporarily trapped in Cable's mind until Deadpool re-booted Cable's immune system with an infant Phalanx.
Rumekistan & Post-Civil War
Domino assassinated Flag-Smasher in Rumekistan, clearing the way for Cable to take over. She did not agree with his agenda.
Domino led a revolt to free the 198, with her former teammates Shatterstar and Caliban. She left Six Pack, which disbanded again after that the majority of the members had been captured and deported from Rumekistan.
She then joined Cable on Providence for a time, until a battle with the Hecatomb caused the island stronghold to sink into the ocean and Cable was presumed dead.
The Punisher
Domino was later recruited by her old friend G. W. Bridge to be, alongside Silver Sable and the Contessa, part of a new task force, this time against The Punisher. When a fake Punisher started targeting civilians, she was the only team member to believe in Castle's innocence.
Rejoining X-Force
After the Punisher stint, Domino found Wolverine and his new black ops team, X-Force, in Tokyo and joined them in trying to capture Vanisher. Questions to Domino's authenticity were raised by X-23 when she failed to make a shot her powers should have assured. She was later injured during the confrontation with The Right, her reflexes and "luck" ability not saving her from a bullet.
Later, on behalf of Wolverine, Domino was asked to stop in a cemetery to deliver flowers to a deceased loved one. While there she came across Spiral, Chimera, and Lady Deathstrike who had dug up the body of Kwannon.
After a brief fight she wounded Chimera and the women teleported off with Kwannon's body. Domino managed to strike back by replacing Jean Grey's body before the Red Queen could take it as her host.
Shortly afterward Domino accidentally saw Red Hulk transform, thus revealing his secret identity to her. Red Hulk attacked Domino, collapsing the building they were standing on, however she survived.
Doc Samson informed Red Hulk of this and told him he must form a team to hunt down and kill Domino in 24 hours before she could tell anyone of her knowledge. The team, Code Red, tracked her down to a bar in Hell's Kitchen. Preparing to capture Domino, she revealed that the other people in the bar were all members of X-Force, who prepared to fight Code Red.
Post-Regenesis
Domino was assigned by Cyclops as a member of Storm's security-recon team, tasked with the responsibility of safeguarding Utopia from all foreign threats. She fought with them during the war against the Avengers.
Back With X-Force
After the events of Avengers vs. X-Men, Domino left Utopia like all the mutants who lived there. She later joined Cable's new X-Force group.
Mercs for Money
Domino had formed a second incarnation of the Mercs for Money which consisted of Gorilla-Man, Machine Man, and Masacre. When they arrived to help Deadpool when it came to freeing Negasonic Teenage Warhead from Umbral Dynamics, Domino informed Deadpool that they were there to help and that she was calling the shots.
Weapon X-Force
Domino became one of the several mutants targeted by the resurfaced Weapon X as part of the organization's process to refine their mutant-hunting cyborgs.
She was saved from a pair of Weapon X's hunting cyborgs by a time-displaced older version of Logan and Sabretooth, who were working together to investigate Weapon X's attacks since they were also targets.
Following the destruction of Weapon X, the team of mutants turned their alliance into a mutant-rescue squad, and started by taking back the name Weapon X.
Throughout Weapon X's subsequent adventures, Domino developed a casual romantic relationship with Warpath.
Quickly after Logan ceded field leadership to Sabretooth due to his ailing health, both Lady Deathstrike and Victor started planning to break off to become mercenaries. Domino expressed interest in joining them since she previously lamented the lack of payment, though this resulted in her and Warpath falling out, as well as his eventual departure from the team.
After welcoming Omega Red into the team's ranks, Victor successfully shifted the team's modus operandi to become mercenaries, and the group was additionally rebranded as Weapon X-Force.
The Posse
After an encounter with Diamondback on a job, the two became close friends, and Domino formed a mercenary group called the Posse, together with her other close friend Outlaw. In one of their missions they were attacked by the mutant Adelbert Greywing who had been hired by someone called 'Topaz'.
When Domino was thrown a surprise birthday party by Outlaw and Diamondback (and given a puppy as a present), she was attacked by the woman called 'Topaz', who was accompanied by an old man.
After the attack on Domino, the old man started to regain his youth and he revealed that he was Prototype, a mutant that had been held at the Project Armageddon Facility alongside Domino when they were children.
Prototype's mutant power interacted with Domino's in such a way that for every good thing that happened to Domino, he would be injured or prematurely age, but for every bad thing that happened to her, he would gain youth and strength. Prototype and Topaz tried to kill Outlaw and Diamondback, but Outlaw killed Prototype. Domino had travelled to Hong Kong to train with Shang-Chi, whom she had also pursued a romance with. There she was again attacked by Topaz, but was able to overpower and kill her, with the help of Outlaw and Diamondback.
On a mission to retrieve an artifact, the Posse expanded to include Black Widow, White Fox, and Atlas Bear (although Black Widow only stayed for that mission).
Krakoa
After mutant sovereignty was declared on Krakoa, Charles Xavier asked Domino to investigate a series of shell companies with financial ties to anti-mutant politicians and businesses.
Following a lead to Seoul, Domino infiltrated a secret meeting but attacked them when they attempted to subject her to a blood purity test. She was overpowered, put in stasis, and partially flayed, with the humans taking skin grafts from her to bypass Krakoa's defenses.
After being rescued by Wolverine and Kid Omega and taken to Krakoa's Healing Gardens, Domino was made a part of Krakoa's now black-ops security agency X-Force by Professor X.
On their first mission, XENO launched several attacks against shell companies owned by Professor Xavier. After being fitted with organic technology created by Forge, she, Wolverine and Quentin were sent to a clean research facility in Silicon Valley that was being attacked by a team of mercs. Kid Omega was killed and Wolverine cut in half when the mercs blew up the Krakoan gate while they were traveling through it, leaving Domino stranded on the other side with Logan's bottom half.
Thanks to his healing factor, Wolverine survived and warned Domino to hurry up before the attackers could escape. With the gate down, Domino contacted Beast and Sage and asked them to tell Black Tom to find Gateway in order to teleport them to the facility.
Once done Forge showed up to join them in his own organic armor, they retrieved Wolverine's lower body and then prepared to teleport to Wolverine's location. Once they arrived Domino became consumed with anger over the way she'd been treated and killed two of the attackers, Domino was about to kill the last of them despite Beast ordering her to stand down as they needed a prisoner alive to know more about the attack, but after discovering that the last attacker wasn't a bioweapon like the ones she encountered previously she spared his life.
Powers
Psychic Probability Manipulation: Domino is a mutant with the ability to subliminally and psionically initiate random kinetic phenomena that affect probability in her favor by making improbable (but not impossible) things to occur within her line of sight, thus causing her to have "good luck" and her opponents to have "bad luck."
This phenomenon can be anything from an enemy's equipment failure to hitting just the right switch with a stray shot to shut down an overloading nuclear reactor. The full extent of her powers is still unknown.
This subconsciously controlled talent is triggered when she is in a stressful situation (such as fighting or escaping). This effect constantly emanates from her body at all times and is completely subconscious. However, it is also largely participatory - in order for the luck to take effect, Domino herself must engage in an action whose chance she can affect.
For example, if Domino were to stand before a hail of bullets, she would be shot. Instead, she must take action; in attempting to avoid the gunfire, she will miraculously bob and weave just right to avoid every single shot.
Normally, Domino cannot consciously control her ability and the only way to activate it is to put herself in a position in which she could be harmed. She was practicing the cognitive control over her ability for years and recently had shown a result of this training when she caused a lightning bolt to hit two Sentinels.
Enhanced Agility & Reflexes: As a byproduct of her probability abilities, Domino's cerebral cortex emits a current of bio-electric pulses down her spine to instinctively guide her movements during such situations, which has the added effect of augmenting her natural reflexes and agility to near-superhuman levels.
Abilities
Master Marksman: Neena is extremely skilled in hitting her targets with effortless accuracy and sometimes uses her probability manipulation to make impossible shots.
Master Assassin: As an assassin, Neena uses her martial arts skills, enhanced agility & reflexes, and marksmanship to assassinate her targets.
Master Martial Artist: Neena is an highly skilled in significant techniques of hand-to-hand combat and martial arts.
Expert Acrobat: Neena uses her enhanced agility to perform difficult acrobatic feats with no effort.
Weaknesses
Alektorophobia: Domino has a crippling fear of chickens.
Weapons
Various firearms and knives; staff that fires unspecified ammunition, can be used for balance when jumping, and is equipped with sensors.
Notes
Domino's real name was eventually revealed as Neena Thurman. For a long time, she was called "Beatrice," a name that was a play on her luck powers, as Beatrice is derived from 'beatus,' the Latin word for 'lucky.'
⚡ Happy 🎯 Heroclix 💫 Friday! 👽
_____________________________
A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.
Secret Identity: Neena Thurman
Publisher: Marvel
First appearance: The New Mutants #98 (February 1991)
Created by: Fabian Nicieza (Writer)
Rob Liefeld (Artist)
In my part of the world, Europe, for most people who currently live, the probability that they exist is really very small. This is the result of two European based wars. In my case I needed both my parents to survive WWII, and 4 grandparents to survive WWI, not to mention other skirmishes along the way. Given that 3 of those 6 people mentioned above saw active service throughout an entire war, the chances of them surviving was quite low. If it weren't for the failed booby trap, surviving an aeroplane crash, being picked up alive on a battlefield when they were clearing the dead, and coming out of battles where only 20% survived, along with hundreds of other lucky breaks, then I wouldn't exist.
I sometimes feel my life is tough, but this puts it into perspective for me. How lucky I am.
For all that made sacrifices for my generation to prosper, I thank them.
But it doesn't end there, we need to consider whether we need to make sacrifices for future generations to prosper.
What are the biggest threats to our children's children, and how can we reduce the risk and withdraw from the battlefield?
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!
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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
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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
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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:
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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!
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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.
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Female Hummingbird IDs can be quite iffy. The other probabilities of similar species here are the Black-chinned and Costa's. Anna's has a straight, short bill and white supercilium. Its tail is reported to project beyond the wing tips but you need the ideal perspective of a perched bird to determine this. I also base my ID selection on the straight bill shape, but other local Hummers have similar bills. The blooms on which the Hummer is accessing are those of Parry's Penstemon, an early blooming native flower that seems to be the current choice of several birds and insects that thrive on nectar.
IMG_9740; Anna's Hummingbird
A return visit to St Mary.
I was last here about 6 years ago, parking in the little square one warm September afternoon.
Much colder in March, but plenty of parking spaces, and St Mary was surprisingly open.
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The church stands in the village square removed from the main road. The flint rubble construction and severe restoration of the exterior does not look welcoming, but the interior is most appealing with plenty of light flooding through the clerestory windows. The rectangular piers of both north and south arcades with their pointed arches and boldly carved stops are of late twelfth-century date. Between them hang some eighteenth-century text boards. The character of the church is given in the main by late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century work. The high altar has four charmingly painted panels by John Ripley Wilmer in Pre-Raphaelite style, executed in 1907. At the opposite end of the church are the organ loft, font cover and baptistry, all designed by F.C. Eden, who restored the church in the early 1900s. He also designed the west window of the south aisle as part of a larger scheme which was not completed. In the south chancel wall are two windows of great curiosity. One contains a fifteenth-century figure of St Thomas Becket while the other shows figures of David and Saul. This dates from the nineteenth century and was painted by Frank Wodehouse who was the then vicar's brother. The face of David was based on that of Mme Carlotta Patti, the opera singer, while Gladstone and Disraeli can be identified hovering in the background! It is a shame that it has deteriorated badly.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Elham
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ELEHAM,
OR, as it is as frequently written, Elham, lies the next parish south-eastward from Stelling. It was written in the time of the Saxons both Uleham and Æiham, in Domesday, Albam. Philipott says, it was antiently written Helham, denoting the situation of it to be a valley among the hills, whilst others suppose, but with little probability, that it took its name from the quantity of eels which the Nailbourn throws out when it begins to run. There are Seven boroughsin it, of Bladbean, Boyke, Canterwood, Lyminge, Eleham, Town, Sibton, and Hurst.
Eleham is said to be the largest parish in the eastern parts of this county, extending itself in length from north to south, through the Nailbourn valley, about three miles and an half; and in breadth five miles and a half, that is, from part of Stelling-minnis, within the bounds of it, across the valley to Eleham down and Winteridge, and the southern part of Swinfield-minnis, almost up to Hairn-forstal, in Uphill Folkestone. The village, or town of Eleham, as it is usually called, is situated in the above-mentioned valley, rather on a rise, on the side of the stream. It is both healthy and pleasant, the houses in it being mostly modern and wellbuilt, of brick and fashed. As an instance of the healthiness of this parish, there have been within these few years several inhabitants of it buried here, of the ages of 95, 97, and 99, and one of 105; the age of 40 years being esteemed that of a young person, in this parish. The church, with the vicarage on the side of the church-yard, is situated on the eastern side of it, and the court lodge at a small distance from it. This is now no more than a small mean cottage, thatched, of, I believe, only two rooms on a floor, and unsit for habitation. It appears to be the remains of a much larger edifice, and is built of quarry-stone, with small arched gothic windows and doors, the frames of which are of ashlar stone, and seemingly very antient indeed. It is still accounted a market-town, the market having been obtained to it by prince Edward, afterwards king Edward I. in his father's life-time, anno 35 Henry III. to be held on a Monday weekly, which, though disused for a regular constancy, is held in the market-house here once in five or six years, to keep up the claim to the right of it; besides which there are three markets regularly held, for the buying and selling of cattle, in every year, on Palm, Easter, and Whit Mondays, and one fair on Oct. 20th, by the alteration of the stile, being formerly held on the day of St. Dionis, Oct. 9, for toys and pedlary. The Nailbourn, as has been already mentioned before, in the description of Liminage, runs along this valley northward, entering this parish southward, by the hamlet of Ottinge, and running thence by the town of Eleham, and at half a mile's distance, by the hamlet of North Eleham, where there are several deep ponds, in which are from time to time quantities of eels, and so on to Brompton's Pot and Wingmere, at the northern extremity of this parish. The soil in the valley is mostly an unfertile red earth, mixed with many flints; but the hills on each side of it, which are very frequent and steep, extend to a wild romantic country, with frequent woods and uninclosed downs, where the soil consists mostly of chalk, excepting towards Stelling and Swinfield minnis's, where it partakes of a like quality to that of the valley, tance,by the hamlet of North Eleham, where there only still more poor and barren. At the north-west corner of the parish, on the hill, is Eleham park, being a large wood, belonging to the lord of Eleham manor.
Dr. Plot says, he was informed, that there was the custom of borough English prevailing over some copyhold lands in this parish, the general usage of which is, that the youngest son should inherit all the lands and tenements which his father had within the borough, &c. but I cannot find any here subject to it. On the contrary, the custom here is, to give the whole estate to the eldest son, who pays to the younger ones their proportions of it, as valued by the homage of the manor, in money.
At the time of taking the survey of Domesday, anno 1080, this place was part of the possessions of the bishop of Baieux, under the general title of whose lands it is thus entered in it:
In Honinberg hundred, the bishop of Baieux holds in demesne Alham. It was taxed at six sulins. The arable land is twenty-four carucates. In demesne there are five carucates and forty-one villeins, with eight borderers having eighteen carucates. There is a church, and eight servants, and two mills of six shillings, and twenty eight acres of meadow. Wood for the pannage of one hundred hogs. In the time of king Edward the Confessor, and afterwards, it was worth thirty pounds, now forty, and yet it yields fifty pounds. Ederic held this manor of king Edward.
Four years after the bishop was disgraced, and all his possessions were consiscated to the crown, whence this manor seems to have been granted to William de Albineto, or Albini, surnamed Pincerna, who had followed the Conqueror from Normandy in his expedition hither. He was succeeded by his son, of the same name, who was made Earl of Arundel anno 15 king Stephen, and Alida his daughter carried it in marriage to John, earl of Ewe, in Normandy, whose eldest son Henry, earl of Ewe, was slain at the siege of Ptolemais in 1217, leaving Alice his sole daughter and heir, who entitled her husband Ralph D'Issondon to the possession of this manor, as well as to the title of earl of Ewe. She died in the reign of king Henry III. possessed of this manor, with the advowson of the church, and sealed with Barry, a label of six points, as appears by a deed in the Surrenden library; after which it appears to have come into the possession of prince Edward, the king's eldest son, who in the 35th year of it obtained the grant of a market on a Monday, and a fair, at this manor, (fn. 1) and afterwards, in the 41st year of that reign, alienated it to archbishop Boniface, who, left he should still further inflame that enmity which this nation had conceived against him, among other foreigners and aliens, by thus increasing his possessions in it, passed this manor away to Roger de Leyborne, who died possessed of it in the 56th year of that reign, at which time it appears that there was a park here; (fn. 2) and in his name it continued till Juliana de Leyborne, daughter of Thomas, became the sole heir of their possessions, from the greatness of which she was usually called the Infanta of Kent. She was thrice married, yet she had no issue by either of her husbands, all of whom she survived, and died in the 41st year of king Edward III. upon which this manor, among the rest of her estates, escheated to the crown, there being no one who could make claim to them, by direct or even by collateral alliance. (fn. 3) Afterwards it continued in the crown till king Richard II. vested it in feoffees in trust, towards the endowment of St. Stephen's chapel, in his palace of Westminster, which he had in his 22d year, completed and made collegiate, and had the year before granted to the dean and canons this manor, among others, in mortmain. (fn. 4) All which was confirmed by king Henry IV. and VI. and by king Edward IV. in their first years; the latter of whom, in his 9th year, granted to them a fair in this parish yearly, on the Monday after Palm-Sunday, and on the Wednesday following, with all liberties, &c. In which situation it continued till the 1st year of king Edward VI. when this college was, with all its possessions, surrendered into the king's hands, where this manor did not continue long; for the king in his 5th year, granted it to Edward, lord Clinton and Saye, and he reconveyed it to the crown the same year. After which the king demised it, for the term of eighty years, to Sir Edward Wotton, one of his privy council, whose son Thomas Wotton, esq. sold his interest in it to Alexander Hamon, esq. of Acrise, who died in 1613, leaving two daughters his coheirs, the youngest of whom Catherine, married to Sir Robert Lewknor, entitled him to it; he was at his death succeeded by his son Hamon Lewknor, esq. but the reversion in see having been purchased of the crown some few years before the expiration of the above-mentioned term, which ended the last year of king James I.'s reign, to Sir Charles Herbert, master of the revels. He at the latter end of king Charles I.'s reign, alienated it to Mr. John Aelst, merchant, of London; after which, I find by the court rolls, that it was vested in Thomas Alderne, John Fisher, and Roger Jackson, esqrs. who in the year 1681 conveyed it to Sir John Williams, whose daughter and sole heir Penelope carried it in marriage to Thomas Symonds, esq. of Herefordshire, by the heirs of whose only surviving son Thomas Symonds Powell, esq. of Pengethley, in that county, it has been lately sold to Sir Henry Oxenden, bart. who is now entitled to it.
A court leet and court baron is held for this manor, which is very extensive. There is much copyhold land held of it. The demesnes of it are tithe-free. There is a yearly rent charge, payable for ever out of it, of 87l. 13s. 1d. to the ironmongers company, in London.
Shottlesfield is a manor, situated at the southeast boundary of this parish, the house standing partly in Liminge, at a small distance southward from the street or hamlet of the same name. It was, as early as the reign of king Edward II. the inheritance of a family called le Grubbe, some of whom had afterwards possessions about Yalding and Eythorne. Thomas le Grubbe was possessed of it in the 3d year of that reign, and wrote himself of Shottlesfeld, and from him it continued down by paternal descent to John Grubbe, who in the 2d year of king Richard III. conveyed it by sale to Thomas Brockman, of Liminge, (fn. 5) whose grandson Henry Brockman, in the 1st year of queen Mary, alienated it to George Fogge, esq. of Braborne, and he, in the beginning of queen Elizabeth's reign, sold it to Bing, who, before the end of that reign, passed it away to Mr. John Masters, of Sandwich, from whom it descended to Sir Edward Masters, of Canterbury, who at his decease, soon after the death of Charles I. gave it to his second son, then LL. D. from whose heirs it was alienated to Hetherington, whose last surviving son the Rev. William Hetherington, of North Cray place, died possessed of it unmarried in 1778, and by will devised it, among his other estates, to Thomas Coventry, esq. of London, who lately died possessed of it s. p. and the trustees of his will are now entitled to it.
The manor of Bowick, now called Boyke, is situated likewise in the eastern part of this parish, in the borough of its own name, which was in very antient times the residence of the Lads, who in several of their old evidences were written De Lad, by which name there is an antient farm, once reputed a manor, still known, as it has been for many ages before, in the adjoining parish of Acrise, which till the reign of queen Elizabeth, was in the tenure of this family. It is certain that they were resident here at Bowick in the beginning of king Henry VI.'s reign, and in the next of Edward IV. as appears by the registers of their wills in the office at Canterbury, they constantly stiled themselves of Eleham. Thomas Lade, of Bowick, died possessed of it in 1515, as did his descendant Vincent Lade in 1563, anno 6 Elizabeth. Soon after which it passed by purchase into the name of Nethersole, from whence it quickly afterwards was alienated to Aucher, and thence again to Wroth, who at the latter end of king Charles I.'s reign sold it to Elgar; whence, after some intermission, it was sold to Thomas Scott, esq. of Liminge, whose daughter and coheir Elizabeth, married to William Turner, esq. of the Friars, in Canterbury, at length, in her right, became possessed of it; his only surviving daughter and heir Bridget married David Papillon, esq. of Acrise, and entitled him to this manor, and his grandson Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise, is the present owner of it.
Mount and Bladbean are two manors, situated on the hills, on the opposite sides of this parish, the former near the eastern, and the latter near the western boundaries of it; the latter being antiently called Bladbean, alias Jacobs-court, a name now quite forgotten. Both these manors appear to have been in the reign of the Conqueror, part of the possessions of Anschitillus de Ros, who is mentioned in Domesday as holding much land in the western part of this county, their principal manor there being that of Horton, near Farningham. One of this family made a grant of it to the Cosentons, of Cosenton, in Aylesford, to hold of their barony of Ros, as of their manor of Horton before-mentioned, by knight's service. In the 7th year of Edward III. Sir Stephen de Cosenton obtained a charter of freewarren for his lands here. He was the son of Sir William de Cosenton, sheriff anno 35 Edward I. and was sometimes written of Cosenton, and sometimes of Mount, in Eleham. At length his descendant dying in the beginning of king Henry VIII.'s reign, without male issue, his three daughters, married to Duke, Wood, and Alexander Hamon, esq. became his coheirs, and shared a large inheritance between them, and upon their division of it, the manor of Bladbean, alias Jacobs-court, was allotted to Wood, and Mount to Alexander Hamon.
The manor of Bladbean, alias Jacobs-court, was afterwards alienated by the heirs of Wood to Thomas Stoughton, esq. of St. Martin's, near Canterbury, who by will in 1591 (fn. 6) gave this manor, with its rents and services, to Elizabeth his daughter and coheir, married to Thomas Wilde, esq. of St. Martin's, whose grandson Colonel Dudley Wilde, at his death in 1653, s. p. devised it to his widow, from whom it went by sale to Hills, and Mr. James Hills, in 1683, passed it away to Mr. Daniel Woollet, whose children divided this estate among them; a few years after which John Brice became, by purchase of it at different times, possessed of the whole of it, which he in 1729 conveyed by sale to Mr. Valentine Sayer, of Sandwich, who died possessed of it in 1766, and the heirs of his eldest son Mr. George Sayer, of Sandwich, are now entitled to it.
The manor of Mount, now called Mount court, which was allotted as above-mentioned, to Alexander Hamon, continued down to his grandson, of the same name, who died possessed of it in 1613, leaving two daughters his coheirs, the youngest of whom, Catherine, entitled her husband Sir Robert Lewknor, to it, in whose descendants it continued till Robert Lewknor, esq. his grandson, in 1666, alienated it, with other lands in this parish, to Thomas Papillon, esq. of Lubenham, in Leicestershire, whose descendant Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise, is the present proprietor of it.
Ladwood is another manor in this parish, lying at the eastern boundary of it, likewise on the hills next to Acrise. It was written in old evidences Ladswood, whence it may with probability be conjectured, that before its being converted into a farm of arable land, and the erecting of a habitation here, it was a wood belonging to the family of Lad, resident at Bowick; but since the latter end of king Edward III.'s reign, it continued uninterrupted in the family of Rolse till the reign of king Charles II. soon after which it was alienated to Williams, in which name it remained till Penelope, daughter of Sir John Williams, carried it in marriage to Thomas Symonds, esq. the heirs of whose only surviving son Thomas Symonds Powell, esq. sold it to David Papillon, esq. whose son Thomas Papillon, esq. now possesses it.
The manor of Canterwood, as appears by an old manuscript, seemingly of the time of Henry VIII. was formerly the estate of Thomas de Garwinton, of Welle, lying in the eastern part of the parish, and who lived in the reigns of Edward II. and III. whose greatgrandson William Garwinton, dying s. p. Joane his kinswoman, married to Richard Haut, was, in the 9th year of king Henry IV. found to be his heir, not only in this manor, but much other land in these parts, and their son Richard Haut having an only daughter and heir Margery, she carried this manor in marriage to William Isaak. After which, as appears from the court-rolls, which do not reach very high, that the family of Hales became possessed of it, in which it staid till the end of queen Elizabeth's reign, when it went by sale to Manwood, from which name it was alienated to Sir Robert Lewknor, whose grandson Robert Lewknor, esq. in 1666 sold it, with other lands in this parish already mentioned, to Thomas Papillon, esq. of Lu benham, in Leicestershire, whose descendant Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise, is the present owner of it.
Oxroad, now usually called Ostrude, is a manor, situated a little distance eastward from North Eleham. It had antiently owners of the same name; Andrew de Oxroad held it of the countess of Ewe, in the reign of king Edward I. by knight's service, as appears by the book of them in the king's remembrancer's office. In the 20th year of king Edward III. John, son of Simon atte Welle, held it of the earl of Ewe by the like service. After which the Hencles became possessed of it, from the reign of king Henry IV. to that of king Henry VIII. when Isabel, daughter of Tho. Hencle, marrying John Beane, entitled him to it, and in his descendants it continued till king Charles I.'s reign, when it was alienated to Mr. Daniel Shatterden, gent. of this parish, descended from those of Shatterden, in Great Chart, which place they had possessed for many generations. At length, after this manor had continued for some time in his descendants, it was sold to Adams, in which name it remained till the heirs of Randall Adams passed it away by sale to Papillon, in whose family it still continues, being now the property of Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise.
Hall, alias Wingmere, is a manor, situated in the valley at the northern boundary of this parish, next to Barham, in which some part of the demesne lands of it lie. It is held of the manor of Eleham, and had most probably once owners of the name of Wigmere, as it was originally spelt, of which name there was a family in East Kent, and in several antient evidences there is mention made of William de Wigmere and others of this name. However this be, the family of Brent appear to have been for several generations possessed of this manor, and continued so till Thomas Brent, of Wilsborough, dying in 1612,s. p. it passed into the family of Dering, of Surrenden; for in king James I.'s reign Edward Dering, gent. of Egerton, eldest son of John, the fourth son of John Dering, esq, of Surren den, who had married Thomas Brent's sister, was become possessed of it; and his only son and heir Thomas Dering, gent. in 1649, alienated it to William Codd, gent. (fn. 7) of Watringbury, who was succeeded in it by his son James Codd, esq. of Watringbury, who died s. p. in 1708, being then sheriff of this county, and being possessed at his death of this manor in fee, in gavelkind; upon which it came to the representatives of his two aunts, Jane, the wife of Boys Ore, and Anne, of Robert Wood, and they, in 1715, by fine levied, entitled Thomas Manley, and Elizabeth, his wife, to the possession of this manor for their lives, and afterwards to them in fee, in separate moieties. He died s. p. in 1716, and by will gave his moiety to John Pollard; on whose death s. p. it came, by the limitation in the above will, to Joshua Monger, whose only daughter and heir Rachael carried it in marriage to her husband Arthur Pryor, and they in 1750 joined in the sale of it to Mr. Richard Halford, gent. of Canterbury. The other moiety of this manor seems to have been devised by Elizabeth Manley above-mentioned, at her death, to her nephew Thomas Kirkby, whose sons Thomas, John, and Manley Kirkby, joined, in the above year, in the conveyance of it to Mr. Richard Halford above-mentioned, who then became possessed of the whole of it. He was third son of Richard Halford, clerk, rector of the adjoining parish of Liminge, descended from the Halfords, of Warwickshire, as appears by his will in the Prerogative-office, Canterbury, by which he devised to his several sons successively in tail, the estate in Warwickshire, which he was entitled to by the will of his kinsman William Halford, gent, of that county. They bear for their arms, Argent, a greybound passant, sable, on a chief of the second, three fleurs de lis, or. He died possessed of it in 1766, leaving by Mary his wife, daughter of Mr. Christopher Creed, of Canterbury, one son Richard Halford, gent. now of Canterbury; and two daughters, Mary married to Mr. John Peirce, surgeon, of Canterbury; and Sarah. In 1794, Mr. Peirce purchased the shares of Mr. Richard and Mrs. Sarah Halford, and he is now the present owner of this manor. He bears for his arms, Azure field, wavy bend, or, two unicorns heads, proper.
The manor OF Clavertigh is situated on the hills at the north-west boundary of this parish, next to Liminge, which antiently belonged to the abbey of Bradsole, or St. Radigund, near Dover, and it continued among the possessions of it till the 27th year of king Henry VIII. when by the act then passed, it was suppressed, as not having the clear yearly revenue of two hundred pounds, and was surrendered into the king's hands, who in his 29th year, granted the scite of this priory, with all its lands and possessions, among which this manor was included, with certain exceptions, however, mentioned in it, to archbishop Cranmer, who in the 38th year of that reign, conveyed this manor of Clavertigh, with lands called Monkenlands, late belonging to the same priory in this parish, back again to the king, who that same year granted all those premises to Sir James Hales, one of the justices of the common pleas, to hold in capite, (fn. 8) and he, in the beginning of king Edward VI.'s reign, passed them away to Peter Heyman, esq. one of the gentlemen of that prince's bedchamber who seems to have had a new grant of them from the crown, in the 2d year of that reign. He was succeeded by his eldest son, Ralph Heyman, esq. of Sellindge, whose descendant Sir Peter Heyman, bart. alienated the manor of Clavetigh to Sir Edward Honywood, of Evington, created a baronet in 1660, in whose descendants this manor has continued down to Sir John Honywood, bart. of Evington, who is the present possessor of it.
Charities.
Jonas Warley, D. D. gave by will in 1722, 50l. to be put out on good security, the produce to be given yearly in bread on every Sunday in the year, after divine service, to six poor widows, to each of them a two-penny loaf. The money is now vested in the vicar and churchwardens, and the produce of it being no more than 2l. 5s. per annum, only a three-halfpenny loaf is given to each widow.
Land in this parish, of the annual produce of 1l. was given by a person unknown, to be disposed of to the indigent. It is vested in the minister, churchwardens, and overseers.
Four small cottages were given to the parish, by a person unknown, and are now inhabited by poor persons. They are vested in the churchwardens and overseers.
Sir John Williams, by will in 1725, founded A CHARITY SCHOOL in this parish for six poor boys, legal inhabitants, and born in this parish, to be taught reading, writing, and accounts, to be cloathed once in two years; and one such boy to be bound out apprentice, as often as money sufficient could be raised for that use. The minister, churchwardens, and overseers to be trustees, who have power to nominate others to assist them in the management of it. The master has a house to live in, and the lands given to it are let by the trustees.
The poor constantly relieved are about seventy-five, casually fifty-five.
Eleham is within the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the diocese of Canterbury, and deanry of its own name.
The church, which is dedicated to St. Mary, is large and handsome, consisting of three isles, the middle one having an upper range of windows, and one chancel, having a tower steeple, with a spire shast on it, at the west end, in which are eight bells, a clock, and chimes. Within the altar-rails is a memorial for John Somner, gent. son of the learned William Somner, of Canterbury, obt. 1695; arms, Ermine, a chevron voided. In the chancel a brass plate for Michael Pyx, of Folkestone, mayor and once high bailisf to Yarmouth, obt. 1601. Another for Nicholas Moore, gent. of Bettenham, in Cranbrooke; he died at Wingmer in 1577. In the middle isle a memorial for Captain William Symons, obt. 1674; arms, Parted per pale, and fess, three trefoils slipt. A brass plate for John Hill, dean and vicar of Eleham, obt. 1730. In this church was a lamp burning, called the light of Wyngmer, given before the year 1468, probably by one of the owners of that manor.
The church of Eleham was given by archbishop Boniface, lord of the manor of Eleham, and patron of this church appendant to it, at the instance of Walter de Merton, then canon of St. Paul's, and afterwards bishop of Rochester, to the college founded by the latter in 1263, at Maldon, in Surry. (fn. 9) After which the archbishop, in 1268, appropriated this church to the college, whenever it should become vacant by the death or cession of the rector of it, saving a reasonable vicarage of thirty marcs, to be endowed by him in it, to which the warden of the college should present to him and his successors, a fit vicar, as often as it should be vacant, to be nominated to the warden by the archbishop; otherwise the archbishop and his successors should freely from thence dispose of the vicarage for that turn. (fn. 10)
¶The year before this, Walter de Merton had begun a house in Oxford, whither some of the scholars were from time to time to resort for the advancement of their studies, to which the whole society of Maldon was, within a few years afterwards, removed, and both societies united at Oxford, under the name of the warden and fellows of Merton college. This portion of thirty marcs, which was a stated salary, and not tithes, &c. to that amount, was continued by a subsequent composition or decree of archbishop Warham, in 1532; but in 1559, the college, of their own accord, agreed to let the vicarial tithes, &c. to Thomas Carden, then vicar, at an easy rent, upon his discharging the college from the before-mentioned portion of thirty marcs: and this lease, with the like condition, has been renewed to every subsequent vicar ever since; and as an addition to their income, the vicars have for some time had another lease, of some wood grounds here, from the college. (fn. 11)
The appropriation or parsonage of this church is now held by lease from the warden and fellows, by the Rev. John Kenward Shaw Brooke, of Town-Malling. The archbishop nominates a clerk to the vicarage of it, whom the warden and fellows above-mentioned present to him for institution.
This vicarage is valued in the king's books at twenty pounds, (being the original endowment of thirty marcs), and the yearly tenths at two pounds, the clear yearly certified value of it being 59l. 15s. 2d. In 1640 it was valued at one hundred pounds per annum. Communicants six hundred. It is now of about the yearly value of one hundred and fifty pounds.
All the lands in this parish pay tithes to the rector or vicar, excepting Parkgate farm, Farthingsole farm, and Eleham-park wood, all belonging to the lord of Eleham manor, which claim a modus in lieu of tithes, of twenty shillings yearly paid to the vicar. The manor farm of Clavertigh, belonging to Sir John Honywood, bart and a parcel of lands called Mount Bottom, belonging to the Rev. Mr. Thomas Tournay, of Dover, claim a like modus in lieu of tithes.
Cryo Unit: Debating the Anomaly's Purpose
The symphony crescendoed. The clean, sharp notes of logic warped and bent under the immense pressure of the anomaly until they were no longer math, but music. The 45 per cent probability became a deep, resonant cello note, a vibration I felt not in my ears, but in the very cryo-fluid that suspended me, a sound of immense tearing, of a promise being kept.
Through the flickering haze of my dissolving consciousness, I registered a distant, silent violence. The reinforced shell of my vessel, the ship that had been my world, was succumbing to the temporal distortions and gravitational shears. A deep groan echoed, not as sound, but as a wave of pressure against my capsule, the final scream of tortured metal. The debris field depicted in my frantic risk analyses was no longer a simulation; it was my reality, a cloud of shattered components tumbling past me in a slow, hypnotic dance of destruction.
“External vessel integrity compromised,” the sterile voice stated, as calm as if reporting the morning weather. “Life support functions rerouted to capsule autonomy. Standby.”
No longer on a ship, I was the ship itself. This metallic sarcophagus, this capsule, was my new universe—a solitary seed pod launched into a precisely orchestrated storm.
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Agent 47: great, a robot that can't be shot down
Sentinel: WARNING. damage to shell detected. probability of enemy success, 0%
(wait.. I'll be back to upload the rest. I just noticed the album doesn't have all the pictures in it..)
Female Hummingbird IDs can be quite iffy. The other probabilities of similar species here are the Black-chinned and Costa's. Anna's has a straight, short bill and white supercilium. Its tail is reported to project beyond the wing tips but you need the ideal perspective of a perched bird to determine this. I also base my ID selection on the straight bill shape, but other local Hummers have similar bills. The blooms on which the Hummer is accessing are those of Parry's Penstemon, an early blooming native flower that seems to be the current choice of several birds and insects that thrive on nectar.
IMG_9769; Anna's Hummingbird & Parry's Penstemon
The probability disruptor beta got a little out of hand, I'm afraid. The wavefront is propagating slowly; we all should have a fair amount of time before things...change.
November 2015
by Michael Arnzen www.gorelets.com
process: shot of Gypsy Witch Fortune Telling playing card layout --> Decim8 app --> color leveling in Photoshop
Look for my horror novel in playing cards, Play Dead, available on amazon and elsewhere, from publisher Raw Dog Screaming Press. rawdogscreaming.com
A return visit to St Mary.
I was last here about 6 years ago, parking in the little square one warm September afternoon.
Much colder in March, but plenty of parking spaces, and St Mary was surprisingly open.
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The church stands in the village square removed from the main road. The flint rubble construction and severe restoration of the exterior does not look welcoming, but the interior is most appealing with plenty of light flooding through the clerestory windows. The rectangular piers of both north and south arcades with their pointed arches and boldly carved stops are of late twelfth-century date. Between them hang some eighteenth-century text boards. The character of the church is given in the main by late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century work. The high altar has four charmingly painted panels by John Ripley Wilmer in Pre-Raphaelite style, executed in 1907. At the opposite end of the church are the organ loft, font cover and baptistry, all designed by F.C. Eden, who restored the church in the early 1900s. He also designed the west window of the south aisle as part of a larger scheme which was not completed. In the south chancel wall are two windows of great curiosity. One contains a fifteenth-century figure of St Thomas Becket while the other shows figures of David and Saul. This dates from the nineteenth century and was painted by Frank Wodehouse who was the then vicar's brother. The face of David was based on that of Mme Carlotta Patti, the opera singer, while Gladstone and Disraeli can be identified hovering in the background! It is a shame that it has deteriorated badly.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Elham
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ELEHAM,
OR, as it is as frequently written, Elham, lies the next parish south-eastward from Stelling. It was written in the time of the Saxons both Uleham and Æiham, in Domesday, Albam. Philipott says, it was antiently written Helham, denoting the situation of it to be a valley among the hills, whilst others suppose, but with little probability, that it took its name from the quantity of eels which the Nailbourn throws out when it begins to run. There are Seven boroughsin it, of Bladbean, Boyke, Canterwood, Lyminge, Eleham, Town, Sibton, and Hurst.
Eleham is said to be the largest parish in the eastern parts of this county, extending itself in length from north to south, through the Nailbourn valley, about three miles and an half; and in breadth five miles and a half, that is, from part of Stelling-minnis, within the bounds of it, across the valley to Eleham down and Winteridge, and the southern part of Swinfield-minnis, almost up to Hairn-forstal, in Uphill Folkestone. The village, or town of Eleham, as it is usually called, is situated in the above-mentioned valley, rather on a rise, on the side of the stream. It is both healthy and pleasant, the houses in it being mostly modern and wellbuilt, of brick and fashed. As an instance of the healthiness of this parish, there have been within these few years several inhabitants of it buried here, of the ages of 95, 97, and 99, and one of 105; the age of 40 years being esteemed that of a young person, in this parish. The church, with the vicarage on the side of the church-yard, is situated on the eastern side of it, and the court lodge at a small distance from it. This is now no more than a small mean cottage, thatched, of, I believe, only two rooms on a floor, and unsit for habitation. It appears to be the remains of a much larger edifice, and is built of quarry-stone, with small arched gothic windows and doors, the frames of which are of ashlar stone, and seemingly very antient indeed. It is still accounted a market-town, the market having been obtained to it by prince Edward, afterwards king Edward I. in his father's life-time, anno 35 Henry III. to be held on a Monday weekly, which, though disused for a regular constancy, is held in the market-house here once in five or six years, to keep up the claim to the right of it; besides which there are three markets regularly held, for the buying and selling of cattle, in every year, on Palm, Easter, and Whit Mondays, and one fair on Oct. 20th, by the alteration of the stile, being formerly held on the day of St. Dionis, Oct. 9, for toys and pedlary. The Nailbourn, as has been already mentioned before, in the description of Liminage, runs along this valley northward, entering this parish southward, by the hamlet of Ottinge, and running thence by the town of Eleham, and at half a mile's distance, by the hamlet of North Eleham, where there are several deep ponds, in which are from time to time quantities of eels, and so on to Brompton's Pot and Wingmere, at the northern extremity of this parish. The soil in the valley is mostly an unfertile red earth, mixed with many flints; but the hills on each side of it, which are very frequent and steep, extend to a wild romantic country, with frequent woods and uninclosed downs, where the soil consists mostly of chalk, excepting towards Stelling and Swinfield minnis's, where it partakes of a like quality to that of the valley, tance,by the hamlet of North Eleham, where there only still more poor and barren. At the north-west corner of the parish, on the hill, is Eleham park, being a large wood, belonging to the lord of Eleham manor.
Dr. Plot says, he was informed, that there was the custom of borough English prevailing over some copyhold lands in this parish, the general usage of which is, that the youngest son should inherit all the lands and tenements which his father had within the borough, &c. but I cannot find any here subject to it. On the contrary, the custom here is, to give the whole estate to the eldest son, who pays to the younger ones their proportions of it, as valued by the homage of the manor, in money.
At the time of taking the survey of Domesday, anno 1080, this place was part of the possessions of the bishop of Baieux, under the general title of whose lands it is thus entered in it:
In Honinberg hundred, the bishop of Baieux holds in demesne Alham. It was taxed at six sulins. The arable land is twenty-four carucates. In demesne there are five carucates and forty-one villeins, with eight borderers having eighteen carucates. There is a church, and eight servants, and two mills of six shillings, and twenty eight acres of meadow. Wood for the pannage of one hundred hogs. In the time of king Edward the Confessor, and afterwards, it was worth thirty pounds, now forty, and yet it yields fifty pounds. Ederic held this manor of king Edward.
Four years after the bishop was disgraced, and all his possessions were consiscated to the crown, whence this manor seems to have been granted to William de Albineto, or Albini, surnamed Pincerna, who had followed the Conqueror from Normandy in his expedition hither. He was succeeded by his son, of the same name, who was made Earl of Arundel anno 15 king Stephen, and Alida his daughter carried it in marriage to John, earl of Ewe, in Normandy, whose eldest son Henry, earl of Ewe, was slain at the siege of Ptolemais in 1217, leaving Alice his sole daughter and heir, who entitled her husband Ralph D'Issondon to the possession of this manor, as well as to the title of earl of Ewe. She died in the reign of king Henry III. possessed of this manor, with the advowson of the church, and sealed with Barry, a label of six points, as appears by a deed in the Surrenden library; after which it appears to have come into the possession of prince Edward, the king's eldest son, who in the 35th year of it obtained the grant of a market on a Monday, and a fair, at this manor, (fn. 1) and afterwards, in the 41st year of that reign, alienated it to archbishop Boniface, who, left he should still further inflame that enmity which this nation had conceived against him, among other foreigners and aliens, by thus increasing his possessions in it, passed this manor away to Roger de Leyborne, who died possessed of it in the 56th year of that reign, at which time it appears that there was a park here; (fn. 2) and in his name it continued till Juliana de Leyborne, daughter of Thomas, became the sole heir of their possessions, from the greatness of which she was usually called the Infanta of Kent. She was thrice married, yet she had no issue by either of her husbands, all of whom she survived, and died in the 41st year of king Edward III. upon which this manor, among the rest of her estates, escheated to the crown, there being no one who could make claim to them, by direct or even by collateral alliance. (fn. 3) Afterwards it continued in the crown till king Richard II. vested it in feoffees in trust, towards the endowment of St. Stephen's chapel, in his palace of Westminster, which he had in his 22d year, completed and made collegiate, and had the year before granted to the dean and canons this manor, among others, in mortmain. (fn. 4) All which was confirmed by king Henry IV. and VI. and by king Edward IV. in their first years; the latter of whom, in his 9th year, granted to them a fair in this parish yearly, on the Monday after Palm-Sunday, and on the Wednesday following, with all liberties, &c. In which situation it continued till the 1st year of king Edward VI. when this college was, with all its possessions, surrendered into the king's hands, where this manor did not continue long; for the king in his 5th year, granted it to Edward, lord Clinton and Saye, and he reconveyed it to the crown the same year. After which the king demised it, for the term of eighty years, to Sir Edward Wotton, one of his privy council, whose son Thomas Wotton, esq. sold his interest in it to Alexander Hamon, esq. of Acrise, who died in 1613, leaving two daughters his coheirs, the youngest of whom Catherine, married to Sir Robert Lewknor, entitled him to it; he was at his death succeeded by his son Hamon Lewknor, esq. but the reversion in see having been purchased of the crown some few years before the expiration of the above-mentioned term, which ended the last year of king James I.'s reign, to Sir Charles Herbert, master of the revels. He at the latter end of king Charles I.'s reign, alienated it to Mr. John Aelst, merchant, of London; after which, I find by the court rolls, that it was vested in Thomas Alderne, John Fisher, and Roger Jackson, esqrs. who in the year 1681 conveyed it to Sir John Williams, whose daughter and sole heir Penelope carried it in marriage to Thomas Symonds, esq. of Herefordshire, by the heirs of whose only surviving son Thomas Symonds Powell, esq. of Pengethley, in that county, it has been lately sold to Sir Henry Oxenden, bart. who is now entitled to it.
A court leet and court baron is held for this manor, which is very extensive. There is much copyhold land held of it. The demesnes of it are tithe-free. There is a yearly rent charge, payable for ever out of it, of 87l. 13s. 1d. to the ironmongers company, in London.
Shottlesfield is a manor, situated at the southeast boundary of this parish, the house standing partly in Liminge, at a small distance southward from the street or hamlet of the same name. It was, as early as the reign of king Edward II. the inheritance of a family called le Grubbe, some of whom had afterwards possessions about Yalding and Eythorne. Thomas le Grubbe was possessed of it in the 3d year of that reign, and wrote himself of Shottlesfeld, and from him it continued down by paternal descent to John Grubbe, who in the 2d year of king Richard III. conveyed it by sale to Thomas Brockman, of Liminge, (fn. 5) whose grandson Henry Brockman, in the 1st year of queen Mary, alienated it to George Fogge, esq. of Braborne, and he, in the beginning of queen Elizabeth's reign, sold it to Bing, who, before the end of that reign, passed it away to Mr. John Masters, of Sandwich, from whom it descended to Sir Edward Masters, of Canterbury, who at his decease, soon after the death of Charles I. gave it to his second son, then LL. D. from whose heirs it was alienated to Hetherington, whose last surviving son the Rev. William Hetherington, of North Cray place, died possessed of it unmarried in 1778, and by will devised it, among his other estates, to Thomas Coventry, esq. of London, who lately died possessed of it s. p. and the trustees of his will are now entitled to it.
The manor of Bowick, now called Boyke, is situated likewise in the eastern part of this parish, in the borough of its own name, which was in very antient times the residence of the Lads, who in several of their old evidences were written De Lad, by which name there is an antient farm, once reputed a manor, still known, as it has been for many ages before, in the adjoining parish of Acrise, which till the reign of queen Elizabeth, was in the tenure of this family. It is certain that they were resident here at Bowick in the beginning of king Henry VI.'s reign, and in the next of Edward IV. as appears by the registers of their wills in the office at Canterbury, they constantly stiled themselves of Eleham. Thomas Lade, of Bowick, died possessed of it in 1515, as did his descendant Vincent Lade in 1563, anno 6 Elizabeth. Soon after which it passed by purchase into the name of Nethersole, from whence it quickly afterwards was alienated to Aucher, and thence again to Wroth, who at the latter end of king Charles I.'s reign sold it to Elgar; whence, after some intermission, it was sold to Thomas Scott, esq. of Liminge, whose daughter and coheir Elizabeth, married to William Turner, esq. of the Friars, in Canterbury, at length, in her right, became possessed of it; his only surviving daughter and heir Bridget married David Papillon, esq. of Acrise, and entitled him to this manor, and his grandson Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise, is the present owner of it.
Mount and Bladbean are two manors, situated on the hills, on the opposite sides of this parish, the former near the eastern, and the latter near the western boundaries of it; the latter being antiently called Bladbean, alias Jacobs-court, a name now quite forgotten. Both these manors appear to have been in the reign of the Conqueror, part of the possessions of Anschitillus de Ros, who is mentioned in Domesday as holding much land in the western part of this county, their principal manor there being that of Horton, near Farningham. One of this family made a grant of it to the Cosentons, of Cosenton, in Aylesford, to hold of their barony of Ros, as of their manor of Horton before-mentioned, by knight's service. In the 7th year of Edward III. Sir Stephen de Cosenton obtained a charter of freewarren for his lands here. He was the son of Sir William de Cosenton, sheriff anno 35 Edward I. and was sometimes written of Cosenton, and sometimes of Mount, in Eleham. At length his descendant dying in the beginning of king Henry VIII.'s reign, without male issue, his three daughters, married to Duke, Wood, and Alexander Hamon, esq. became his coheirs, and shared a large inheritance between them, and upon their division of it, the manor of Bladbean, alias Jacobs-court, was allotted to Wood, and Mount to Alexander Hamon.
The manor of Bladbean, alias Jacobs-court, was afterwards alienated by the heirs of Wood to Thomas Stoughton, esq. of St. Martin's, near Canterbury, who by will in 1591 (fn. 6) gave this manor, with its rents and services, to Elizabeth his daughter and coheir, married to Thomas Wilde, esq. of St. Martin's, whose grandson Colonel Dudley Wilde, at his death in 1653, s. p. devised it to his widow, from whom it went by sale to Hills, and Mr. James Hills, in 1683, passed it away to Mr. Daniel Woollet, whose children divided this estate among them; a few years after which John Brice became, by purchase of it at different times, possessed of the whole of it, which he in 1729 conveyed by sale to Mr. Valentine Sayer, of Sandwich, who died possessed of it in 1766, and the heirs of his eldest son Mr. George Sayer, of Sandwich, are now entitled to it.
The manor of Mount, now called Mount court, which was allotted as above-mentioned, to Alexander Hamon, continued down to his grandson, of the same name, who died possessed of it in 1613, leaving two daughters his coheirs, the youngest of whom, Catherine, entitled her husband Sir Robert Lewknor, to it, in whose descendants it continued till Robert Lewknor, esq. his grandson, in 1666, alienated it, with other lands in this parish, to Thomas Papillon, esq. of Lubenham, in Leicestershire, whose descendant Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise, is the present proprietor of it.
Ladwood is another manor in this parish, lying at the eastern boundary of it, likewise on the hills next to Acrise. It was written in old evidences Ladswood, whence it may with probability be conjectured, that before its being converted into a farm of arable land, and the erecting of a habitation here, it was a wood belonging to the family of Lad, resident at Bowick; but since the latter end of king Edward III.'s reign, it continued uninterrupted in the family of Rolse till the reign of king Charles II. soon after which it was alienated to Williams, in which name it remained till Penelope, daughter of Sir John Williams, carried it in marriage to Thomas Symonds, esq. the heirs of whose only surviving son Thomas Symonds Powell, esq. sold it to David Papillon, esq. whose son Thomas Papillon, esq. now possesses it.
The manor of Canterwood, as appears by an old manuscript, seemingly of the time of Henry VIII. was formerly the estate of Thomas de Garwinton, of Welle, lying in the eastern part of the parish, and who lived in the reigns of Edward II. and III. whose greatgrandson William Garwinton, dying s. p. Joane his kinswoman, married to Richard Haut, was, in the 9th year of king Henry IV. found to be his heir, not only in this manor, but much other land in these parts, and their son Richard Haut having an only daughter and heir Margery, she carried this manor in marriage to William Isaak. After which, as appears from the court-rolls, which do not reach very high, that the family of Hales became possessed of it, in which it staid till the end of queen Elizabeth's reign, when it went by sale to Manwood, from which name it was alienated to Sir Robert Lewknor, whose grandson Robert Lewknor, esq. in 1666 sold it, with other lands in this parish already mentioned, to Thomas Papillon, esq. of Lu benham, in Leicestershire, whose descendant Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise, is the present owner of it.
Oxroad, now usually called Ostrude, is a manor, situated a little distance eastward from North Eleham. It had antiently owners of the same name; Andrew de Oxroad held it of the countess of Ewe, in the reign of king Edward I. by knight's service, as appears by the book of them in the king's remembrancer's office. In the 20th year of king Edward III. John, son of Simon atte Welle, held it of the earl of Ewe by the like service. After which the Hencles became possessed of it, from the reign of king Henry IV. to that of king Henry VIII. when Isabel, daughter of Tho. Hencle, marrying John Beane, entitled him to it, and in his descendants it continued till king Charles I.'s reign, when it was alienated to Mr. Daniel Shatterden, gent. of this parish, descended from those of Shatterden, in Great Chart, which place they had possessed for many generations. At length, after this manor had continued for some time in his descendants, it was sold to Adams, in which name it remained till the heirs of Randall Adams passed it away by sale to Papillon, in whose family it still continues, being now the property of Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise.
Hall, alias Wingmere, is a manor, situated in the valley at the northern boundary of this parish, next to Barham, in which some part of the demesne lands of it lie. It is held of the manor of Eleham, and had most probably once owners of the name of Wigmere, as it was originally spelt, of which name there was a family in East Kent, and in several antient evidences there is mention made of William de Wigmere and others of this name. However this be, the family of Brent appear to have been for several generations possessed of this manor, and continued so till Thomas Brent, of Wilsborough, dying in 1612,s. p. it passed into the family of Dering, of Surrenden; for in king James I.'s reign Edward Dering, gent. of Egerton, eldest son of John, the fourth son of John Dering, esq, of Surren den, who had married Thomas Brent's sister, was become possessed of it; and his only son and heir Thomas Dering, gent. in 1649, alienated it to William Codd, gent. (fn. 7) of Watringbury, who was succeeded in it by his son James Codd, esq. of Watringbury, who died s. p. in 1708, being then sheriff of this county, and being possessed at his death of this manor in fee, in gavelkind; upon which it came to the representatives of his two aunts, Jane, the wife of Boys Ore, and Anne, of Robert Wood, and they, in 1715, by fine levied, entitled Thomas Manley, and Elizabeth, his wife, to the possession of this manor for their lives, and afterwards to them in fee, in separate moieties. He died s. p. in 1716, and by will gave his moiety to John Pollard; on whose death s. p. it came, by the limitation in the above will, to Joshua Monger, whose only daughter and heir Rachael carried it in marriage to her husband Arthur Pryor, and they in 1750 joined in the sale of it to Mr. Richard Halford, gent. of Canterbury. The other moiety of this manor seems to have been devised by Elizabeth Manley above-mentioned, at her death, to her nephew Thomas Kirkby, whose sons Thomas, John, and Manley Kirkby, joined, in the above year, in the conveyance of it to Mr. Richard Halford above-mentioned, who then became possessed of the whole of it. He was third son of Richard Halford, clerk, rector of the adjoining parish of Liminge, descended from the Halfords, of Warwickshire, as appears by his will in the Prerogative-office, Canterbury, by which he devised to his several sons successively in tail, the estate in Warwickshire, which he was entitled to by the will of his kinsman William Halford, gent, of that county. They bear for their arms, Argent, a greybound passant, sable, on a chief of the second, three fleurs de lis, or. He died possessed of it in 1766, leaving by Mary his wife, daughter of Mr. Christopher Creed, of Canterbury, one son Richard Halford, gent. now of Canterbury; and two daughters, Mary married to Mr. John Peirce, surgeon, of Canterbury; and Sarah. In 1794, Mr. Peirce purchased the shares of Mr. Richard and Mrs. Sarah Halford, and he is now the present owner of this manor. He bears for his arms, Azure field, wavy bend, or, two unicorns heads, proper.
The manor OF Clavertigh is situated on the hills at the north-west boundary of this parish, next to Liminge, which antiently belonged to the abbey of Bradsole, or St. Radigund, near Dover, and it continued among the possessions of it till the 27th year of king Henry VIII. when by the act then passed, it was suppressed, as not having the clear yearly revenue of two hundred pounds, and was surrendered into the king's hands, who in his 29th year, granted the scite of this priory, with all its lands and possessions, among which this manor was included, with certain exceptions, however, mentioned in it, to archbishop Cranmer, who in the 38th year of that reign, conveyed this manor of Clavertigh, with lands called Monkenlands, late belonging to the same priory in this parish, back again to the king, who that same year granted all those premises to Sir James Hales, one of the justices of the common pleas, to hold in capite, (fn. 8) and he, in the beginning of king Edward VI.'s reign, passed them away to Peter Heyman, esq. one of the gentlemen of that prince's bedchamber who seems to have had a new grant of them from the crown, in the 2d year of that reign. He was succeeded by his eldest son, Ralph Heyman, esq. of Sellindge, whose descendant Sir Peter Heyman, bart. alienated the manor of Clavetigh to Sir Edward Honywood, of Evington, created a baronet in 1660, in whose descendants this manor has continued down to Sir John Honywood, bart. of Evington, who is the present possessor of it.
Charities.
Jonas Warley, D. D. gave by will in 1722, 50l. to be put out on good security, the produce to be given yearly in bread on every Sunday in the year, after divine service, to six poor widows, to each of them a two-penny loaf. The money is now vested in the vicar and churchwardens, and the produce of it being no more than 2l. 5s. per annum, only a three-halfpenny loaf is given to each widow.
Land in this parish, of the annual produce of 1l. was given by a person unknown, to be disposed of to the indigent. It is vested in the minister, churchwardens, and overseers.
Four small cottages were given to the parish, by a person unknown, and are now inhabited by poor persons. They are vested in the churchwardens and overseers.
Sir John Williams, by will in 1725, founded A CHARITY SCHOOL in this parish for six poor boys, legal inhabitants, and born in this parish, to be taught reading, writing, and accounts, to be cloathed once in two years; and one such boy to be bound out apprentice, as often as money sufficient could be raised for that use. The minister, churchwardens, and overseers to be trustees, who have power to nominate others to assist them in the management of it. The master has a house to live in, and the lands given to it are let by the trustees.
The poor constantly relieved are about seventy-five, casually fifty-five.
Eleham is within the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the diocese of Canterbury, and deanry of its own name.
The church, which is dedicated to St. Mary, is large and handsome, consisting of three isles, the middle one having an upper range of windows, and one chancel, having a tower steeple, with a spire shast on it, at the west end, in which are eight bells, a clock, and chimes. Within the altar-rails is a memorial for John Somner, gent. son of the learned William Somner, of Canterbury, obt. 1695; arms, Ermine, a chevron voided. In the chancel a brass plate for Michael Pyx, of Folkestone, mayor and once high bailisf to Yarmouth, obt. 1601. Another for Nicholas Moore, gent. of Bettenham, in Cranbrooke; he died at Wingmer in 1577. In the middle isle a memorial for Captain William Symons, obt. 1674; arms, Parted per pale, and fess, three trefoils slipt. A brass plate for John Hill, dean and vicar of Eleham, obt. 1730. In this church was a lamp burning, called the light of Wyngmer, given before the year 1468, probably by one of the owners of that manor.
The church of Eleham was given by archbishop Boniface, lord of the manor of Eleham, and patron of this church appendant to it, at the instance of Walter de Merton, then canon of St. Paul's, and afterwards bishop of Rochester, to the college founded by the latter in 1263, at Maldon, in Surry. (fn. 9) After which the archbishop, in 1268, appropriated this church to the college, whenever it should become vacant by the death or cession of the rector of it, saving a reasonable vicarage of thirty marcs, to be endowed by him in it, to which the warden of the college should present to him and his successors, a fit vicar, as often as it should be vacant, to be nominated to the warden by the archbishop; otherwise the archbishop and his successors should freely from thence dispose of the vicarage for that turn. (fn. 10)
¶The year before this, Walter de Merton had begun a house in Oxford, whither some of the scholars were from time to time to resort for the advancement of their studies, to which the whole society of Maldon was, within a few years afterwards, removed, and both societies united at Oxford, under the name of the warden and fellows of Merton college. This portion of thirty marcs, which was a stated salary, and not tithes, &c. to that amount, was continued by a subsequent composition or decree of archbishop Warham, in 1532; but in 1559, the college, of their own accord, agreed to let the vicarial tithes, &c. to Thomas Carden, then vicar, at an easy rent, upon his discharging the college from the before-mentioned portion of thirty marcs: and this lease, with the like condition, has been renewed to every subsequent vicar ever since; and as an addition to their income, the vicars have for some time had another lease, of some wood grounds here, from the college. (fn. 11)
The appropriation or parsonage of this church is now held by lease from the warden and fellows, by the Rev. John Kenward Shaw Brooke, of Town-Malling. The archbishop nominates a clerk to the vicarage of it, whom the warden and fellows above-mentioned present to him for institution.
This vicarage is valued in the king's books at twenty pounds, (being the original endowment of thirty marcs), and the yearly tenths at two pounds, the clear yearly certified value of it being 59l. 15s. 2d. In 1640 it was valued at one hundred pounds per annum. Communicants six hundred. It is now of about the yearly value of one hundred and fifty pounds.
All the lands in this parish pay tithes to the rector or vicar, excepting Parkgate farm, Farthingsole farm, and Eleham-park wood, all belonging to the lord of Eleham manor, which claim a modus in lieu of tithes, of twenty shillings yearly paid to the vicar. The manor farm of Clavertigh, belonging to Sir John Honywood, bart and a parcel of lands called Mount Bottom, belonging to the Rev. Mr. Thomas Tournay, of Dover, claim a like modus in lieu of tithes.
Epic Fine Art Malibu Seascape Landscape Photography: Elliot McGucken Fine Art Nature Photography!
New book! Epic Landscape Photography: The Principles of Fine Art Nature Photography!
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Working on a couple photography books! 45EPIC GODDESS PHOTOGRAPHY: A classic guide to exalting the archetypal woman. And 45EPIC Fine Art Landscape Photography!
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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
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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:
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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!
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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.
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A return visit to St Mary.
I was last here about 6 years ago, parking in the little square one warm September afternoon.
Much colder in March, but plenty of parking spaces, and St Mary was surprisingly open.
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The church stands in the village square removed from the main road. The flint rubble construction and severe restoration of the exterior does not look welcoming, but the interior is most appealing with plenty of light flooding through the clerestory windows. The rectangular piers of both north and south arcades with their pointed arches and boldly carved stops are of late twelfth-century date. Between them hang some eighteenth-century text boards. The character of the church is given in the main by late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century work. The high altar has four charmingly painted panels by John Ripley Wilmer in Pre-Raphaelite style, executed in 1907. At the opposite end of the church are the organ loft, font cover and baptistry, all designed by F.C. Eden, who restored the church in the early 1900s. He also designed the west window of the south aisle as part of a larger scheme which was not completed. In the south chancel wall are two windows of great curiosity. One contains a fifteenth-century figure of St Thomas Becket while the other shows figures of David and Saul. This dates from the nineteenth century and was painted by Frank Wodehouse who was the then vicar's brother. The face of David was based on that of Mme Carlotta Patti, the opera singer, while Gladstone and Disraeli can be identified hovering in the background! It is a shame that it has deteriorated badly.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Elham
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ELEHAM,
OR, as it is as frequently written, Elham, lies the next parish south-eastward from Stelling. It was written in the time of the Saxons both Uleham and Æiham, in Domesday, Albam. Philipott says, it was antiently written Helham, denoting the situation of it to be a valley among the hills, whilst others suppose, but with little probability, that it took its name from the quantity of eels which the Nailbourn throws out when it begins to run. There are Seven boroughsin it, of Bladbean, Boyke, Canterwood, Lyminge, Eleham, Town, Sibton, and Hurst.
Eleham is said to be the largest parish in the eastern parts of this county, extending itself in length from north to south, through the Nailbourn valley, about three miles and an half; and in breadth five miles and a half, that is, from part of Stelling-minnis, within the bounds of it, across the valley to Eleham down and Winteridge, and the southern part of Swinfield-minnis, almost up to Hairn-forstal, in Uphill Folkestone. The village, or town of Eleham, as it is usually called, is situated in the above-mentioned valley, rather on a rise, on the side of the stream. It is both healthy and pleasant, the houses in it being mostly modern and wellbuilt, of brick and fashed. As an instance of the healthiness of this parish, there have been within these few years several inhabitants of it buried here, of the ages of 95, 97, and 99, and one of 105; the age of 40 years being esteemed that of a young person, in this parish. The church, with the vicarage on the side of the church-yard, is situated on the eastern side of it, and the court lodge at a small distance from it. This is now no more than a small mean cottage, thatched, of, I believe, only two rooms on a floor, and unsit for habitation. It appears to be the remains of a much larger edifice, and is built of quarry-stone, with small arched gothic windows and doors, the frames of which are of ashlar stone, and seemingly very antient indeed. It is still accounted a market-town, the market having been obtained to it by prince Edward, afterwards king Edward I. in his father's life-time, anno 35 Henry III. to be held on a Monday weekly, which, though disused for a regular constancy, is held in the market-house here once in five or six years, to keep up the claim to the right of it; besides which there are three markets regularly held, for the buying and selling of cattle, in every year, on Palm, Easter, and Whit Mondays, and one fair on Oct. 20th, by the alteration of the stile, being formerly held on the day of St. Dionis, Oct. 9, for toys and pedlary. The Nailbourn, as has been already mentioned before, in the description of Liminage, runs along this valley northward, entering this parish southward, by the hamlet of Ottinge, and running thence by the town of Eleham, and at half a mile's distance, by the hamlet of North Eleham, where there are several deep ponds, in which are from time to time quantities of eels, and so on to Brompton's Pot and Wingmere, at the northern extremity of this parish. The soil in the valley is mostly an unfertile red earth, mixed with many flints; but the hills on each side of it, which are very frequent and steep, extend to a wild romantic country, with frequent woods and uninclosed downs, where the soil consists mostly of chalk, excepting towards Stelling and Swinfield minnis's, where it partakes of a like quality to that of the valley, tance,by the hamlet of North Eleham, where there only still more poor and barren. At the north-west corner of the parish, on the hill, is Eleham park, being a large wood, belonging to the lord of Eleham manor.
Dr. Plot says, he was informed, that there was the custom of borough English prevailing over some copyhold lands in this parish, the general usage of which is, that the youngest son should inherit all the lands and tenements which his father had within the borough, &c. but I cannot find any here subject to it. On the contrary, the custom here is, to give the whole estate to the eldest son, who pays to the younger ones their proportions of it, as valued by the homage of the manor, in money.
At the time of taking the survey of Domesday, anno 1080, this place was part of the possessions of the bishop of Baieux, under the general title of whose lands it is thus entered in it:
In Honinberg hundred, the bishop of Baieux holds in demesne Alham. It was taxed at six sulins. The arable land is twenty-four carucates. In demesne there are five carucates and forty-one villeins, with eight borderers having eighteen carucates. There is a church, and eight servants, and two mills of six shillings, and twenty eight acres of meadow. Wood for the pannage of one hundred hogs. In the time of king Edward the Confessor, and afterwards, it was worth thirty pounds, now forty, and yet it yields fifty pounds. Ederic held this manor of king Edward.
Four years after the bishop was disgraced, and all his possessions were consiscated to the crown, whence this manor seems to have been granted to William de Albineto, or Albini, surnamed Pincerna, who had followed the Conqueror from Normandy in his expedition hither. He was succeeded by his son, of the same name, who was made Earl of Arundel anno 15 king Stephen, and Alida his daughter carried it in marriage to John, earl of Ewe, in Normandy, whose eldest son Henry, earl of Ewe, was slain at the siege of Ptolemais in 1217, leaving Alice his sole daughter and heir, who entitled her husband Ralph D'Issondon to the possession of this manor, as well as to the title of earl of Ewe. She died in the reign of king Henry III. possessed of this manor, with the advowson of the church, and sealed with Barry, a label of six points, as appears by a deed in the Surrenden library; after which it appears to have come into the possession of prince Edward, the king's eldest son, who in the 35th year of it obtained the grant of a market on a Monday, and a fair, at this manor, (fn. 1) and afterwards, in the 41st year of that reign, alienated it to archbishop Boniface, who, left he should still further inflame that enmity which this nation had conceived against him, among other foreigners and aliens, by thus increasing his possessions in it, passed this manor away to Roger de Leyborne, who died possessed of it in the 56th year of that reign, at which time it appears that there was a park here; (fn. 2) and in his name it continued till Juliana de Leyborne, daughter of Thomas, became the sole heir of their possessions, from the greatness of which she was usually called the Infanta of Kent. She was thrice married, yet she had no issue by either of her husbands, all of whom she survived, and died in the 41st year of king Edward III. upon which this manor, among the rest of her estates, escheated to the crown, there being no one who could make claim to them, by direct or even by collateral alliance. (fn. 3) Afterwards it continued in the crown till king Richard II. vested it in feoffees in trust, towards the endowment of St. Stephen's chapel, in his palace of Westminster, which he had in his 22d year, completed and made collegiate, and had the year before granted to the dean and canons this manor, among others, in mortmain. (fn. 4) All which was confirmed by king Henry IV. and VI. and by king Edward IV. in their first years; the latter of whom, in his 9th year, granted to them a fair in this parish yearly, on the Monday after Palm-Sunday, and on the Wednesday following, with all liberties, &c. In which situation it continued till the 1st year of king Edward VI. when this college was, with all its possessions, surrendered into the king's hands, where this manor did not continue long; for the king in his 5th year, granted it to Edward, lord Clinton and Saye, and he reconveyed it to the crown the same year. After which the king demised it, for the term of eighty years, to Sir Edward Wotton, one of his privy council, whose son Thomas Wotton, esq. sold his interest in it to Alexander Hamon, esq. of Acrise, who died in 1613, leaving two daughters his coheirs, the youngest of whom Catherine, married to Sir Robert Lewknor, entitled him to it; he was at his death succeeded by his son Hamon Lewknor, esq. but the reversion in see having been purchased of the crown some few years before the expiration of the above-mentioned term, which ended the last year of king James I.'s reign, to Sir Charles Herbert, master of the revels. He at the latter end of king Charles I.'s reign, alienated it to Mr. John Aelst, merchant, of London; after which, I find by the court rolls, that it was vested in Thomas Alderne, John Fisher, and Roger Jackson, esqrs. who in the year 1681 conveyed it to Sir John Williams, whose daughter and sole heir Penelope carried it in marriage to Thomas Symonds, esq. of Herefordshire, by the heirs of whose only surviving son Thomas Symonds Powell, esq. of Pengethley, in that county, it has been lately sold to Sir Henry Oxenden, bart. who is now entitled to it.
A court leet and court baron is held for this manor, which is very extensive. There is much copyhold land held of it. The demesnes of it are tithe-free. There is a yearly rent charge, payable for ever out of it, of 87l. 13s. 1d. to the ironmongers company, in London.
Shottlesfield is a manor, situated at the southeast boundary of this parish, the house standing partly in Liminge, at a small distance southward from the street or hamlet of the same name. It was, as early as the reign of king Edward II. the inheritance of a family called le Grubbe, some of whom had afterwards possessions about Yalding and Eythorne. Thomas le Grubbe was possessed of it in the 3d year of that reign, and wrote himself of Shottlesfeld, and from him it continued down by paternal descent to John Grubbe, who in the 2d year of king Richard III. conveyed it by sale to Thomas Brockman, of Liminge, (fn. 5) whose grandson Henry Brockman, in the 1st year of queen Mary, alienated it to George Fogge, esq. of Braborne, and he, in the beginning of queen Elizabeth's reign, sold it to Bing, who, before the end of that reign, passed it away to Mr. John Masters, of Sandwich, from whom it descended to Sir Edward Masters, of Canterbury, who at his decease, soon after the death of Charles I. gave it to his second son, then LL. D. from whose heirs it was alienated to Hetherington, whose last surviving son the Rev. William Hetherington, of North Cray place, died possessed of it unmarried in 1778, and by will devised it, among his other estates, to Thomas Coventry, esq. of London, who lately died possessed of it s. p. and the trustees of his will are now entitled to it.
The manor of Bowick, now called Boyke, is situated likewise in the eastern part of this parish, in the borough of its own name, which was in very antient times the residence of the Lads, who in several of their old evidences were written De Lad, by which name there is an antient farm, once reputed a manor, still known, as it has been for many ages before, in the adjoining parish of Acrise, which till the reign of queen Elizabeth, was in the tenure of this family. It is certain that they were resident here at Bowick in the beginning of king Henry VI.'s reign, and in the next of Edward IV. as appears by the registers of their wills in the office at Canterbury, they constantly stiled themselves of Eleham. Thomas Lade, of Bowick, died possessed of it in 1515, as did his descendant Vincent Lade in 1563, anno 6 Elizabeth. Soon after which it passed by purchase into the name of Nethersole, from whence it quickly afterwards was alienated to Aucher, and thence again to Wroth, who at the latter end of king Charles I.'s reign sold it to Elgar; whence, after some intermission, it was sold to Thomas Scott, esq. of Liminge, whose daughter and coheir Elizabeth, married to William Turner, esq. of the Friars, in Canterbury, at length, in her right, became possessed of it; his only surviving daughter and heir Bridget married David Papillon, esq. of Acrise, and entitled him to this manor, and his grandson Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise, is the present owner of it.
Mount and Bladbean are two manors, situated on the hills, on the opposite sides of this parish, the former near the eastern, and the latter near the western boundaries of it; the latter being antiently called Bladbean, alias Jacobs-court, a name now quite forgotten. Both these manors appear to have been in the reign of the Conqueror, part of the possessions of Anschitillus de Ros, who is mentioned in Domesday as holding much land in the western part of this county, their principal manor there being that of Horton, near Farningham. One of this family made a grant of it to the Cosentons, of Cosenton, in Aylesford, to hold of their barony of Ros, as of their manor of Horton before-mentioned, by knight's service. In the 7th year of Edward III. Sir Stephen de Cosenton obtained a charter of freewarren for his lands here. He was the son of Sir William de Cosenton, sheriff anno 35 Edward I. and was sometimes written of Cosenton, and sometimes of Mount, in Eleham. At length his descendant dying in the beginning of king Henry VIII.'s reign, without male issue, his three daughters, married to Duke, Wood, and Alexander Hamon, esq. became his coheirs, and shared a large inheritance between them, and upon their division of it, the manor of Bladbean, alias Jacobs-court, was allotted to Wood, and Mount to Alexander Hamon.
The manor of Bladbean, alias Jacobs-court, was afterwards alienated by the heirs of Wood to Thomas Stoughton, esq. of St. Martin's, near Canterbury, who by will in 1591 (fn. 6) gave this manor, with its rents and services, to Elizabeth his daughter and coheir, married to Thomas Wilde, esq. of St. Martin's, whose grandson Colonel Dudley Wilde, at his death in 1653, s. p. devised it to his widow, from whom it went by sale to Hills, and Mr. James Hills, in 1683, passed it away to Mr. Daniel Woollet, whose children divided this estate among them; a few years after which John Brice became, by purchase of it at different times, possessed of the whole of it, which he in 1729 conveyed by sale to Mr. Valentine Sayer, of Sandwich, who died possessed of it in 1766, and the heirs of his eldest son Mr. George Sayer, of Sandwich, are now entitled to it.
The manor of Mount, now called Mount court, which was allotted as above-mentioned, to Alexander Hamon, continued down to his grandson, of the same name, who died possessed of it in 1613, leaving two daughters his coheirs, the youngest of whom, Catherine, entitled her husband Sir Robert Lewknor, to it, in whose descendants it continued till Robert Lewknor, esq. his grandson, in 1666, alienated it, with other lands in this parish, to Thomas Papillon, esq. of Lubenham, in Leicestershire, whose descendant Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise, is the present proprietor of it.
Ladwood is another manor in this parish, lying at the eastern boundary of it, likewise on the hills next to Acrise. It was written in old evidences Ladswood, whence it may with probability be conjectured, that before its being converted into a farm of arable land, and the erecting of a habitation here, it was a wood belonging to the family of Lad, resident at Bowick; but since the latter end of king Edward III.'s reign, it continued uninterrupted in the family of Rolse till the reign of king Charles II. soon after which it was alienated to Williams, in which name it remained till Penelope, daughter of Sir John Williams, carried it in marriage to Thomas Symonds, esq. the heirs of whose only surviving son Thomas Symonds Powell, esq. sold it to David Papillon, esq. whose son Thomas Papillon, esq. now possesses it.
The manor of Canterwood, as appears by an old manuscript, seemingly of the time of Henry VIII. was formerly the estate of Thomas de Garwinton, of Welle, lying in the eastern part of the parish, and who lived in the reigns of Edward II. and III. whose greatgrandson William Garwinton, dying s. p. Joane his kinswoman, married to Richard Haut, was, in the 9th year of king Henry IV. found to be his heir, not only in this manor, but much other land in these parts, and their son Richard Haut having an only daughter and heir Margery, she carried this manor in marriage to William Isaak. After which, as appears from the court-rolls, which do not reach very high, that the family of Hales became possessed of it, in which it staid till the end of queen Elizabeth's reign, when it went by sale to Manwood, from which name it was alienated to Sir Robert Lewknor, whose grandson Robert Lewknor, esq. in 1666 sold it, with other lands in this parish already mentioned, to Thomas Papillon, esq. of Lu benham, in Leicestershire, whose descendant Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise, is the present owner of it.
Oxroad, now usually called Ostrude, is a manor, situated a little distance eastward from North Eleham. It had antiently owners of the same name; Andrew de Oxroad held it of the countess of Ewe, in the reign of king Edward I. by knight's service, as appears by the book of them in the king's remembrancer's office. In the 20th year of king Edward III. John, son of Simon atte Welle, held it of the earl of Ewe by the like service. After which the Hencles became possessed of it, from the reign of king Henry IV. to that of king Henry VIII. when Isabel, daughter of Tho. Hencle, marrying John Beane, entitled him to it, and in his descendants it continued till king Charles I.'s reign, when it was alienated to Mr. Daniel Shatterden, gent. of this parish, descended from those of Shatterden, in Great Chart, which place they had possessed for many generations. At length, after this manor had continued for some time in his descendants, it was sold to Adams, in which name it remained till the heirs of Randall Adams passed it away by sale to Papillon, in whose family it still continues, being now the property of Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise.
Hall, alias Wingmere, is a manor, situated in the valley at the northern boundary of this parish, next to Barham, in which some part of the demesne lands of it lie. It is held of the manor of Eleham, and had most probably once owners of the name of Wigmere, as it was originally spelt, of which name there was a family in East Kent, and in several antient evidences there is mention made of William de Wigmere and others of this name. However this be, the family of Brent appear to have been for several generations possessed of this manor, and continued so till Thomas Brent, of Wilsborough, dying in 1612,s. p. it passed into the family of Dering, of Surrenden; for in king James I.'s reign Edward Dering, gent. of Egerton, eldest son of John, the fourth son of John Dering, esq, of Surren den, who had married Thomas Brent's sister, was become possessed of it; and his only son and heir Thomas Dering, gent. in 1649, alienated it to William Codd, gent. (fn. 7) of Watringbury, who was succeeded in it by his son James Codd, esq. of Watringbury, who died s. p. in 1708, being then sheriff of this county, and being possessed at his death of this manor in fee, in gavelkind; upon which it came to the representatives of his two aunts, Jane, the wife of Boys Ore, and Anne, of Robert Wood, and they, in 1715, by fine levied, entitled Thomas Manley, and Elizabeth, his wife, to the possession of this manor for their lives, and afterwards to them in fee, in separate moieties. He died s. p. in 1716, and by will gave his moiety to John Pollard; on whose death s. p. it came, by the limitation in the above will, to Joshua Monger, whose only daughter and heir Rachael carried it in marriage to her husband Arthur Pryor, and they in 1750 joined in the sale of it to Mr. Richard Halford, gent. of Canterbury. The other moiety of this manor seems to have been devised by Elizabeth Manley above-mentioned, at her death, to her nephew Thomas Kirkby, whose sons Thomas, John, and Manley Kirkby, joined, in the above year, in the conveyance of it to Mr. Richard Halford above-mentioned, who then became possessed of the whole of it. He was third son of Richard Halford, clerk, rector of the adjoining parish of Liminge, descended from the Halfords, of Warwickshire, as appears by his will in the Prerogative-office, Canterbury, by which he devised to his several sons successively in tail, the estate in Warwickshire, which he was entitled to by the will of his kinsman William Halford, gent, of that county. They bear for their arms, Argent, a greybound passant, sable, on a chief of the second, three fleurs de lis, or. He died possessed of it in 1766, leaving by Mary his wife, daughter of Mr. Christopher Creed, of Canterbury, one son Richard Halford, gent. now of Canterbury; and two daughters, Mary married to Mr. John Peirce, surgeon, of Canterbury; and Sarah. In 1794, Mr. Peirce purchased the shares of Mr. Richard and Mrs. Sarah Halford, and he is now the present owner of this manor. He bears for his arms, Azure field, wavy bend, or, two unicorns heads, proper.
The manor OF Clavertigh is situated on the hills at the north-west boundary of this parish, next to Liminge, which antiently belonged to the abbey of Bradsole, or St. Radigund, near Dover, and it continued among the possessions of it till the 27th year of king Henry VIII. when by the act then passed, it was suppressed, as not having the clear yearly revenue of two hundred pounds, and was surrendered into the king's hands, who in his 29th year, granted the scite of this priory, with all its lands and possessions, among which this manor was included, with certain exceptions, however, mentioned in it, to archbishop Cranmer, who in the 38th year of that reign, conveyed this manor of Clavertigh, with lands called Monkenlands, late belonging to the same priory in this parish, back again to the king, who that same year granted all those premises to Sir James Hales, one of the justices of the common pleas, to hold in capite, (fn. 8) and he, in the beginning of king Edward VI.'s reign, passed them away to Peter Heyman, esq. one of the gentlemen of that prince's bedchamber who seems to have had a new grant of them from the crown, in the 2d year of that reign. He was succeeded by his eldest son, Ralph Heyman, esq. of Sellindge, whose descendant Sir Peter Heyman, bart. alienated the manor of Clavetigh to Sir Edward Honywood, of Evington, created a baronet in 1660, in whose descendants this manor has continued down to Sir John Honywood, bart. of Evington, who is the present possessor of it.
Charities.
Jonas Warley, D. D. gave by will in 1722, 50l. to be put out on good security, the produce to be given yearly in bread on every Sunday in the year, after divine service, to six poor widows, to each of them a two-penny loaf. The money is now vested in the vicar and churchwardens, and the produce of it being no more than 2l. 5s. per annum, only a three-halfpenny loaf is given to each widow.
Land in this parish, of the annual produce of 1l. was given by a person unknown, to be disposed of to the indigent. It is vested in the minister, churchwardens, and overseers.
Four small cottages were given to the parish, by a person unknown, and are now inhabited by poor persons. They are vested in the churchwardens and overseers.
Sir John Williams, by will in 1725, founded A CHARITY SCHOOL in this parish for six poor boys, legal inhabitants, and born in this parish, to be taught reading, writing, and accounts, to be cloathed once in two years; and one such boy to be bound out apprentice, as often as money sufficient could be raised for that use. The minister, churchwardens, and overseers to be trustees, who have power to nominate others to assist them in the management of it. The master has a house to live in, and the lands given to it are let by the trustees.
The poor constantly relieved are about seventy-five, casually fifty-five.
Eleham is within the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the diocese of Canterbury, and deanry of its own name.
The church, which is dedicated to St. Mary, is large and handsome, consisting of three isles, the middle one having an upper range of windows, and one chancel, having a tower steeple, with a spire shast on it, at the west end, in which are eight bells, a clock, and chimes. Within the altar-rails is a memorial for John Somner, gent. son of the learned William Somner, of Canterbury, obt. 1695; arms, Ermine, a chevron voided. In the chancel a brass plate for Michael Pyx, of Folkestone, mayor and once high bailisf to Yarmouth, obt. 1601. Another for Nicholas Moore, gent. of Bettenham, in Cranbrooke; he died at Wingmer in 1577. In the middle isle a memorial for Captain William Symons, obt. 1674; arms, Parted per pale, and fess, three trefoils slipt. A brass plate for John Hill, dean and vicar of Eleham, obt. 1730. In this church was a lamp burning, called the light of Wyngmer, given before the year 1468, probably by one of the owners of that manor.
The church of Eleham was given by archbishop Boniface, lord of the manor of Eleham, and patron of this church appendant to it, at the instance of Walter de Merton, then canon of St. Paul's, and afterwards bishop of Rochester, to the college founded by the latter in 1263, at Maldon, in Surry. (fn. 9) After which the archbishop, in 1268, appropriated this church to the college, whenever it should become vacant by the death or cession of the rector of it, saving a reasonable vicarage of thirty marcs, to be endowed by him in it, to which the warden of the college should present to him and his successors, a fit vicar, as often as it should be vacant, to be nominated to the warden by the archbishop; otherwise the archbishop and his successors should freely from thence dispose of the vicarage for that turn. (fn. 10)
¶The year before this, Walter de Merton had begun a house in Oxford, whither some of the scholars were from time to time to resort for the advancement of their studies, to which the whole society of Maldon was, within a few years afterwards, removed, and both societies united at Oxford, under the name of the warden and fellows of Merton college. This portion of thirty marcs, which was a stated salary, and not tithes, &c. to that amount, was continued by a subsequent composition or decree of archbishop Warham, in 1532; but in 1559, the college, of their own accord, agreed to let the vicarial tithes, &c. to Thomas Carden, then vicar, at an easy rent, upon his discharging the college from the before-mentioned portion of thirty marcs: and this lease, with the like condition, has been renewed to every subsequent vicar ever since; and as an addition to their income, the vicars have for some time had another lease, of some wood grounds here, from the college. (fn. 11)
The appropriation or parsonage of this church is now held by lease from the warden and fellows, by the Rev. John Kenward Shaw Brooke, of Town-Malling. The archbishop nominates a clerk to the vicarage of it, whom the warden and fellows above-mentioned present to him for institution.
This vicarage is valued in the king's books at twenty pounds, (being the original endowment of thirty marcs), and the yearly tenths at two pounds, the clear yearly certified value of it being 59l. 15s. 2d. In 1640 it was valued at one hundred pounds per annum. Communicants six hundred. It is now of about the yearly value of one hundred and fifty pounds.
All the lands in this parish pay tithes to the rector or vicar, excepting Parkgate farm, Farthingsole farm, and Eleham-park wood, all belonging to the lord of Eleham manor, which claim a modus in lieu of tithes, of twenty shillings yearly paid to the vicar. The manor farm of Clavertigh, belonging to Sir John Honywood, bart and a parcel of lands called Mount Bottom, belonging to the Rev. Mr. Thomas Tournay, of Dover, claim a like modus in lieu of tithes.
Few kilometers from Harar, you can find a market for Khat, open 24/24, 7/7. I showed the pictures of this market to people around Ethiopia who buy everyday few branches of khat, and they could not believe it!
If you see someone in Yemen with a swollen cheek and tossing small greenish leaves in his mouth in a smoky room ina deafening hurly-burly, there is high probability that he is a khat (pronounce “cot”; as well spelled qat in Yemen, gat or qaad in Somalia, jad, chad or chat in Ethiopia, tohai, tschat or miraa in Kenya, marungi in Uganda and Rwanda; in latin Catha edulis) user.
Whether this flowering evergreen tree with large shrubs is native of the Horn of Africa or the Arabian Peninsula is still unknown. The fresh khat leaves are alternatively chewed and kept in the cheek and the juice swallowed. Some swallow the leaves and juice altogether, but others prefer to spit it once they have lost all their properties.
Khat leaves contain a drug made up of two alkaloid molecules (cathine and cathinone organic compounds), which have psychotropic effects. This substance influences on the brain, causing excitement, euphoria, and loss of appetite and sleepiness. It is much appreciated by workers, long journey drivers and students, since it enhances concentration and muscular force. Low consumers say it acts like a strong coffee, but khat is as powerful as amphetamines some scientists reckon. Anyhow it is somewhat addictive and some of the biggest users have been reported prone to withdrawal symptoms. Therefore at a high dose, khat can lead to mental diseases as psychosis or cause heart problems. Frequently used, the cathinone leads to a rise of blood pressure and heart rate. Also it was given evidence that a long-term use of khat favors oral cancers.
More than the substance itself, it is the particular context of its use that makes khat attractive. On the contrary of some hallucinogen drugs that favor soul-searching, khat brings openness and mental clearness, enabling easier relationships with fellow consumers. And more than the plant itself, it is the consumption of sugary drinks (in order to mask the slight bitterness) and tobacco associated with khat chewing which is problematic.
An estimated 10 million people are khat users in the world today. The biggest consumption is in Yemen, followed by Ethiopia. Somalia as well copes with a large number of consumers whereas it has been prohibited by Al-Shebaab Islamic militancy movement that controls parts of the Somali territory since “it is responsible for youth unemployment”, they said.
It is prohibited as a drug in most western countries, except the Netherlands, where khat trading is free and the U.K., where it is considered as a class C drug but legally sold in a few groceries. The Somali diaspora’s consumption is a problem when khat is reputed illegal in the country they settled in: they must infringe the law if they want to keep on chewing.
Kenya, Yemen and Ethiopia are major international producers. Fresh khat leaves have passed to be one of Ethiopia’s biggest exports crops, still ranking after coffee but close. Ethiopian khat is grown in the Kaffa area, while it is sold in Harar in the East. Neighboring Awadai city, where it is legal and as widespread as coffee or alcohol, is entirely devoted to the selling of khat. It is an international hub from which every night, loaded trucks leave for Somalia, Djibouti and the Arabian Peninsula, while planes take of in direction of Amsterdam and London airports. Indeed, khat must keep fresh to have the maximum efficiency. An estimated 25,000 kilograms per day are sold through Awadai hub market.
Khat growing is twice as profitable as coffee. Therefore, over the past few years, it has been replacing the small family farms crops, and it has endangered a lot the coffee economy.
Especially men consider khat get-togethers as a social institution or habit that contributes to the creation of a cultural identity. Eventually, the khat chewing ritual has been taking place for centuries among the societies of the horn of Africa and the Arabian Peninsula (Yemen, Oman, Saudi Arabia), where a lot of people consume khat on a daily basis. They even call the leaves “the Muslims’ alcohol”.
Women are less prone than men to khat consumption. Still some of them chew it as well. In some countries female Khat chewers are associated with sexual working. Khat affects pregnant women by reducing maternal daily food intake and mean birth weight of the offspring.
Money is another important issue. Indeed, khat is relatively costly.
Economically speaking, khat diverts household income that could have been used for nutritious food, home improvements, education or other family needs that people on those countries are in very big need for. For some families, one person’s daily consumption price is equivalent amount for feeding the whole family. It is clear that, poverty, poor health, poor housing, poor education and social isolation are common characteristics of those that use khat.
Meles Zenawi, Ethiopia’s president is reputed to have been a khat addict before taking office. The Christian preachers condemn khat use.
© Eric Lafforgue
A return visit to St Mary.
I was last here about 6 years ago, parking in the little square one warm September afternoon.
Much colder in March, but plenty of parking spaces, and St Mary was surprisingly open.
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The church stands in the village square removed from the main road. The flint rubble construction and severe restoration of the exterior does not look welcoming, but the interior is most appealing with plenty of light flooding through the clerestory windows. The rectangular piers of both north and south arcades with their pointed arches and boldly carved stops are of late twelfth-century date. Between them hang some eighteenth-century text boards. The character of the church is given in the main by late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century work. The high altar has four charmingly painted panels by John Ripley Wilmer in Pre-Raphaelite style, executed in 1907. At the opposite end of the church are the organ loft, font cover and baptistry, all designed by F.C. Eden, who restored the church in the early 1900s. He also designed the west window of the south aisle as part of a larger scheme which was not completed. In the south chancel wall are two windows of great curiosity. One contains a fifteenth-century figure of St Thomas Becket while the other shows figures of David and Saul. This dates from the nineteenth century and was painted by Frank Wodehouse who was the then vicar's brother. The face of David was based on that of Mme Carlotta Patti, the opera singer, while Gladstone and Disraeli can be identified hovering in the background! It is a shame that it has deteriorated badly.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Elham
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ELEHAM,
OR, as it is as frequently written, Elham, lies the next parish south-eastward from Stelling. It was written in the time of the Saxons both Uleham and Æiham, in Domesday, Albam. Philipott says, it was antiently written Helham, denoting the situation of it to be a valley among the hills, whilst others suppose, but with little probability, that it took its name from the quantity of eels which the Nailbourn throws out when it begins to run. There are Seven boroughsin it, of Bladbean, Boyke, Canterwood, Lyminge, Eleham, Town, Sibton, and Hurst.
Eleham is said to be the largest parish in the eastern parts of this county, extending itself in length from north to south, through the Nailbourn valley, about three miles and an half; and in breadth five miles and a half, that is, from part of Stelling-minnis, within the bounds of it, across the valley to Eleham down and Winteridge, and the southern part of Swinfield-minnis, almost up to Hairn-forstal, in Uphill Folkestone. The village, or town of Eleham, as it is usually called, is situated in the above-mentioned valley, rather on a rise, on the side of the stream. It is both healthy and pleasant, the houses in it being mostly modern and wellbuilt, of brick and fashed. As an instance of the healthiness of this parish, there have been within these few years several inhabitants of it buried here, of the ages of 95, 97, and 99, and one of 105; the age of 40 years being esteemed that of a young person, in this parish. The church, with the vicarage on the side of the church-yard, is situated on the eastern side of it, and the court lodge at a small distance from it. This is now no more than a small mean cottage, thatched, of, I believe, only two rooms on a floor, and unsit for habitation. It appears to be the remains of a much larger edifice, and is built of quarry-stone, with small arched gothic windows and doors, the frames of which are of ashlar stone, and seemingly very antient indeed. It is still accounted a market-town, the market having been obtained to it by prince Edward, afterwards king Edward I. in his father's life-time, anno 35 Henry III. to be held on a Monday weekly, which, though disused for a regular constancy, is held in the market-house here once in five or six years, to keep up the claim to the right of it; besides which there are three markets regularly held, for the buying and selling of cattle, in every year, on Palm, Easter, and Whit Mondays, and one fair on Oct. 20th, by the alteration of the stile, being formerly held on the day of St. Dionis, Oct. 9, for toys and pedlary. The Nailbourn, as has been already mentioned before, in the description of Liminage, runs along this valley northward, entering this parish southward, by the hamlet of Ottinge, and running thence by the town of Eleham, and at half a mile's distance, by the hamlet of North Eleham, where there are several deep ponds, in which are from time to time quantities of eels, and so on to Brompton's Pot and Wingmere, at the northern extremity of this parish. The soil in the valley is mostly an unfertile red earth, mixed with many flints; but the hills on each side of it, which are very frequent and steep, extend to a wild romantic country, with frequent woods and uninclosed downs, where the soil consists mostly of chalk, excepting towards Stelling and Swinfield minnis's, where it partakes of a like quality to that of the valley, tance,by the hamlet of North Eleham, where there only still more poor and barren. At the north-west corner of the parish, on the hill, is Eleham park, being a large wood, belonging to the lord of Eleham manor.
Dr. Plot says, he was informed, that there was the custom of borough English prevailing over some copyhold lands in this parish, the general usage of which is, that the youngest son should inherit all the lands and tenements which his father had within the borough, &c. but I cannot find any here subject to it. On the contrary, the custom here is, to give the whole estate to the eldest son, who pays to the younger ones their proportions of it, as valued by the homage of the manor, in money.
At the time of taking the survey of Domesday, anno 1080, this place was part of the possessions of the bishop of Baieux, under the general title of whose lands it is thus entered in it:
In Honinberg hundred, the bishop of Baieux holds in demesne Alham. It was taxed at six sulins. The arable land is twenty-four carucates. In demesne there are five carucates and forty-one villeins, with eight borderers having eighteen carucates. There is a church, and eight servants, and two mills of six shillings, and twenty eight acres of meadow. Wood for the pannage of one hundred hogs. In the time of king Edward the Confessor, and afterwards, it was worth thirty pounds, now forty, and yet it yields fifty pounds. Ederic held this manor of king Edward.
Four years after the bishop was disgraced, and all his possessions were consiscated to the crown, whence this manor seems to have been granted to William de Albineto, or Albini, surnamed Pincerna, who had followed the Conqueror from Normandy in his expedition hither. He was succeeded by his son, of the same name, who was made Earl of Arundel anno 15 king Stephen, and Alida his daughter carried it in marriage to John, earl of Ewe, in Normandy, whose eldest son Henry, earl of Ewe, was slain at the siege of Ptolemais in 1217, leaving Alice his sole daughter and heir, who entitled her husband Ralph D'Issondon to the possession of this manor, as well as to the title of earl of Ewe. She died in the reign of king Henry III. possessed of this manor, with the advowson of the church, and sealed with Barry, a label of six points, as appears by a deed in the Surrenden library; after which it appears to have come into the possession of prince Edward, the king's eldest son, who in the 35th year of it obtained the grant of a market on a Monday, and a fair, at this manor, (fn. 1) and afterwards, in the 41st year of that reign, alienated it to archbishop Boniface, who, left he should still further inflame that enmity which this nation had conceived against him, among other foreigners and aliens, by thus increasing his possessions in it, passed this manor away to Roger de Leyborne, who died possessed of it in the 56th year of that reign, at which time it appears that there was a park here; (fn. 2) and in his name it continued till Juliana de Leyborne, daughter of Thomas, became the sole heir of their possessions, from the greatness of which she was usually called the Infanta of Kent. She was thrice married, yet she had no issue by either of her husbands, all of whom she survived, and died in the 41st year of king Edward III. upon which this manor, among the rest of her estates, escheated to the crown, there being no one who could make claim to them, by direct or even by collateral alliance. (fn. 3) Afterwards it continued in the crown till king Richard II. vested it in feoffees in trust, towards the endowment of St. Stephen's chapel, in his palace of Westminster, which he had in his 22d year, completed and made collegiate, and had the year before granted to the dean and canons this manor, among others, in mortmain. (fn. 4) All which was confirmed by king Henry IV. and VI. and by king Edward IV. in their first years; the latter of whom, in his 9th year, granted to them a fair in this parish yearly, on the Monday after Palm-Sunday, and on the Wednesday following, with all liberties, &c. In which situation it continued till the 1st year of king Edward VI. when this college was, with all its possessions, surrendered into the king's hands, where this manor did not continue long; for the king in his 5th year, granted it to Edward, lord Clinton and Saye, and he reconveyed it to the crown the same year. After which the king demised it, for the term of eighty years, to Sir Edward Wotton, one of his privy council, whose son Thomas Wotton, esq. sold his interest in it to Alexander Hamon, esq. of Acrise, who died in 1613, leaving two daughters his coheirs, the youngest of whom Catherine, married to Sir Robert Lewknor, entitled him to it; he was at his death succeeded by his son Hamon Lewknor, esq. but the reversion in see having been purchased of the crown some few years before the expiration of the above-mentioned term, which ended the last year of king James I.'s reign, to Sir Charles Herbert, master of the revels. He at the latter end of king Charles I.'s reign, alienated it to Mr. John Aelst, merchant, of London; after which, I find by the court rolls, that it was vested in Thomas Alderne, John Fisher, and Roger Jackson, esqrs. who in the year 1681 conveyed it to Sir John Williams, whose daughter and sole heir Penelope carried it in marriage to Thomas Symonds, esq. of Herefordshire, by the heirs of whose only surviving son Thomas Symonds Powell, esq. of Pengethley, in that county, it has been lately sold to Sir Henry Oxenden, bart. who is now entitled to it.
A court leet and court baron is held for this manor, which is very extensive. There is much copyhold land held of it. The demesnes of it are tithe-free. There is a yearly rent charge, payable for ever out of it, of 87l. 13s. 1d. to the ironmongers company, in London.
Shottlesfield is a manor, situated at the southeast boundary of this parish, the house standing partly in Liminge, at a small distance southward from the street or hamlet of the same name. It was, as early as the reign of king Edward II. the inheritance of a family called le Grubbe, some of whom had afterwards possessions about Yalding and Eythorne. Thomas le Grubbe was possessed of it in the 3d year of that reign, and wrote himself of Shottlesfeld, and from him it continued down by paternal descent to John Grubbe, who in the 2d year of king Richard III. conveyed it by sale to Thomas Brockman, of Liminge, (fn. 5) whose grandson Henry Brockman, in the 1st year of queen Mary, alienated it to George Fogge, esq. of Braborne, and he, in the beginning of queen Elizabeth's reign, sold it to Bing, who, before the end of that reign, passed it away to Mr. John Masters, of Sandwich, from whom it descended to Sir Edward Masters, of Canterbury, who at his decease, soon after the death of Charles I. gave it to his second son, then LL. D. from whose heirs it was alienated to Hetherington, whose last surviving son the Rev. William Hetherington, of North Cray place, died possessed of it unmarried in 1778, and by will devised it, among his other estates, to Thomas Coventry, esq. of London, who lately died possessed of it s. p. and the trustees of his will are now entitled to it.
The manor of Bowick, now called Boyke, is situated likewise in the eastern part of this parish, in the borough of its own name, which was in very antient times the residence of the Lads, who in several of their old evidences were written De Lad, by which name there is an antient farm, once reputed a manor, still known, as it has been for many ages before, in the adjoining parish of Acrise, which till the reign of queen Elizabeth, was in the tenure of this family. It is certain that they were resident here at Bowick in the beginning of king Henry VI.'s reign, and in the next of Edward IV. as appears by the registers of their wills in the office at Canterbury, they constantly stiled themselves of Eleham. Thomas Lade, of Bowick, died possessed of it in 1515, as did his descendant Vincent Lade in 1563, anno 6 Elizabeth. Soon after which it passed by purchase into the name of Nethersole, from whence it quickly afterwards was alienated to Aucher, and thence again to Wroth, who at the latter end of king Charles I.'s reign sold it to Elgar; whence, after some intermission, it was sold to Thomas Scott, esq. of Liminge, whose daughter and coheir Elizabeth, married to William Turner, esq. of the Friars, in Canterbury, at length, in her right, became possessed of it; his only surviving daughter and heir Bridget married David Papillon, esq. of Acrise, and entitled him to this manor, and his grandson Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise, is the present owner of it.
Mount and Bladbean are two manors, situated on the hills, on the opposite sides of this parish, the former near the eastern, and the latter near the western boundaries of it; the latter being antiently called Bladbean, alias Jacobs-court, a name now quite forgotten. Both these manors appear to have been in the reign of the Conqueror, part of the possessions of Anschitillus de Ros, who is mentioned in Domesday as holding much land in the western part of this county, their principal manor there being that of Horton, near Farningham. One of this family made a grant of it to the Cosentons, of Cosenton, in Aylesford, to hold of their barony of Ros, as of their manor of Horton before-mentioned, by knight's service. In the 7th year of Edward III. Sir Stephen de Cosenton obtained a charter of freewarren for his lands here. He was the son of Sir William de Cosenton, sheriff anno 35 Edward I. and was sometimes written of Cosenton, and sometimes of Mount, in Eleham. At length his descendant dying in the beginning of king Henry VIII.'s reign, without male issue, his three daughters, married to Duke, Wood, and Alexander Hamon, esq. became his coheirs, and shared a large inheritance between them, and upon their division of it, the manor of Bladbean, alias Jacobs-court, was allotted to Wood, and Mount to Alexander Hamon.
The manor of Bladbean, alias Jacobs-court, was afterwards alienated by the heirs of Wood to Thomas Stoughton, esq. of St. Martin's, near Canterbury, who by will in 1591 (fn. 6) gave this manor, with its rents and services, to Elizabeth his daughter and coheir, married to Thomas Wilde, esq. of St. Martin's, whose grandson Colonel Dudley Wilde, at his death in 1653, s. p. devised it to his widow, from whom it went by sale to Hills, and Mr. James Hills, in 1683, passed it away to Mr. Daniel Woollet, whose children divided this estate among them; a few years after which John Brice became, by purchase of it at different times, possessed of the whole of it, which he in 1729 conveyed by sale to Mr. Valentine Sayer, of Sandwich, who died possessed of it in 1766, and the heirs of his eldest son Mr. George Sayer, of Sandwich, are now entitled to it.
The manor of Mount, now called Mount court, which was allotted as above-mentioned, to Alexander Hamon, continued down to his grandson, of the same name, who died possessed of it in 1613, leaving two daughters his coheirs, the youngest of whom, Catherine, entitled her husband Sir Robert Lewknor, to it, in whose descendants it continued till Robert Lewknor, esq. his grandson, in 1666, alienated it, with other lands in this parish, to Thomas Papillon, esq. of Lubenham, in Leicestershire, whose descendant Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise, is the present proprietor of it.
Ladwood is another manor in this parish, lying at the eastern boundary of it, likewise on the hills next to Acrise. It was written in old evidences Ladswood, whence it may with probability be conjectured, that before its being converted into a farm of arable land, and the erecting of a habitation here, it was a wood belonging to the family of Lad, resident at Bowick; but since the latter end of king Edward III.'s reign, it continued uninterrupted in the family of Rolse till the reign of king Charles II. soon after which it was alienated to Williams, in which name it remained till Penelope, daughter of Sir John Williams, carried it in marriage to Thomas Symonds, esq. the heirs of whose only surviving son Thomas Symonds Powell, esq. sold it to David Papillon, esq. whose son Thomas Papillon, esq. now possesses it.
The manor of Canterwood, as appears by an old manuscript, seemingly of the time of Henry VIII. was formerly the estate of Thomas de Garwinton, of Welle, lying in the eastern part of the parish, and who lived in the reigns of Edward II. and III. whose greatgrandson William Garwinton, dying s. p. Joane his kinswoman, married to Richard Haut, was, in the 9th year of king Henry IV. found to be his heir, not only in this manor, but much other land in these parts, and their son Richard Haut having an only daughter and heir Margery, she carried this manor in marriage to William Isaak. After which, as appears from the court-rolls, which do not reach very high, that the family of Hales became possessed of it, in which it staid till the end of queen Elizabeth's reign, when it went by sale to Manwood, from which name it was alienated to Sir Robert Lewknor, whose grandson Robert Lewknor, esq. in 1666 sold it, with other lands in this parish already mentioned, to Thomas Papillon, esq. of Lu benham, in Leicestershire, whose descendant Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise, is the present owner of it.
Oxroad, now usually called Ostrude, is a manor, situated a little distance eastward from North Eleham. It had antiently owners of the same name; Andrew de Oxroad held it of the countess of Ewe, in the reign of king Edward I. by knight's service, as appears by the book of them in the king's remembrancer's office. In the 20th year of king Edward III. John, son of Simon atte Welle, held it of the earl of Ewe by the like service. After which the Hencles became possessed of it, from the reign of king Henry IV. to that of king Henry VIII. when Isabel, daughter of Tho. Hencle, marrying John Beane, entitled him to it, and in his descendants it continued till king Charles I.'s reign, when it was alienated to Mr. Daniel Shatterden, gent. of this parish, descended from those of Shatterden, in Great Chart, which place they had possessed for many generations. At length, after this manor had continued for some time in his descendants, it was sold to Adams, in which name it remained till the heirs of Randall Adams passed it away by sale to Papillon, in whose family it still continues, being now the property of Thomas Papillon, esq. of Acrise.
Hall, alias Wingmere, is a manor, situated in the valley at the northern boundary of this parish, next to Barham, in which some part of the demesne lands of it lie. It is held of the manor of Eleham, and had most probably once owners of the name of Wigmere, as it was originally spelt, of which name there was a family in East Kent, and in several antient evidences there is mention made of William de Wigmere and others of this name. However this be, the family of Brent appear to have been for several generations possessed of this manor, and continued so till Thomas Brent, of Wilsborough, dying in 1612,s. p. it passed into the family of Dering, of Surrenden; for in king James I.'s reign Edward Dering, gent. of Egerton, eldest son of John, the fourth son of John Dering, esq, of Surren den, who had married Thomas Brent's sister, was become possessed of it; and his only son and heir Thomas Dering, gent. in 1649, alienated it to William Codd, gent. (fn. 7) of Watringbury, who was succeeded in it by his son James Codd, esq. of Watringbury, who died s. p. in 1708, being then sheriff of this county, and being possessed at his death of this manor in fee, in gavelkind; upon which it came to the representatives of his two aunts, Jane, the wife of Boys Ore, and Anne, of Robert Wood, and they, in 1715, by fine levied, entitled Thomas Manley, and Elizabeth, his wife, to the possession of this manor for their lives, and afterwards to them in fee, in separate moieties. He died s. p. in 1716, and by will gave his moiety to John Pollard; on whose death s. p. it came, by the limitation in the above will, to Joshua Monger, whose only daughter and heir Rachael carried it in marriage to her husband Arthur Pryor, and they in 1750 joined in the sale of it to Mr. Richard Halford, gent. of Canterbury. The other moiety of this manor seems to have been devised by Elizabeth Manley above-mentioned, at her death, to her nephew Thomas Kirkby, whose sons Thomas, John, and Manley Kirkby, joined, in the above year, in the conveyance of it to Mr. Richard Halford above-mentioned, who then became possessed of the whole of it. He was third son of Richard Halford, clerk, rector of the adjoining parish of Liminge, descended from the Halfords, of Warwickshire, as appears by his will in the Prerogative-office, Canterbury, by which he devised to his several sons successively in tail, the estate in Warwickshire, which he was entitled to by the will of his kinsman William Halford, gent, of that county. They bear for their arms, Argent, a greybound passant, sable, on a chief of the second, three fleurs de lis, or. He died possessed of it in 1766, leaving by Mary his wife, daughter of Mr. Christopher Creed, of Canterbury, one son Richard Halford, gent. now of Canterbury; and two daughters, Mary married to Mr. John Peirce, surgeon, of Canterbury; and Sarah. In 1794, Mr. Peirce purchased the shares of Mr. Richard and Mrs. Sarah Halford, and he is now the present owner of this manor. He bears for his arms, Azure field, wavy bend, or, two unicorns heads, proper.
The manor OF Clavertigh is situated on the hills at the north-west boundary of this parish, next to Liminge, which antiently belonged to the abbey of Bradsole, or St. Radigund, near Dover, and it continued among the possessions of it till the 27th year of king Henry VIII. when by the act then passed, it was suppressed, as not having the clear yearly revenue of two hundred pounds, and was surrendered into the king's hands, who in his 29th year, granted the scite of this priory, with all its lands and possessions, among which this manor was included, with certain exceptions, however, mentioned in it, to archbishop Cranmer, who in the 38th year of that reign, conveyed this manor of Clavertigh, with lands called Monkenlands, late belonging to the same priory in this parish, back again to the king, who that same year granted all those premises to Sir James Hales, one of the justices of the common pleas, to hold in capite, (fn. 8) and he, in the beginning of king Edward VI.'s reign, passed them away to Peter Heyman, esq. one of the gentlemen of that prince's bedchamber who seems to have had a new grant of them from the crown, in the 2d year of that reign. He was succeeded by his eldest son, Ralph Heyman, esq. of Sellindge, whose descendant Sir Peter Heyman, bart. alienated the manor of Clavetigh to Sir Edward Honywood, of Evington, created a baronet in 1660, in whose descendants this manor has continued down to Sir John Honywood, bart. of Evington, who is the present possessor of it.
Charities.
Jonas Warley, D. D. gave by will in 1722, 50l. to be put out on good security, the produce to be given yearly in bread on every Sunday in the year, after divine service, to six poor widows, to each of them a two-penny loaf. The money is now vested in the vicar and churchwardens, and the produce of it being no more than 2l. 5s. per annum, only a three-halfpenny loaf is given to each widow.
Land in this parish, of the annual produce of 1l. was given by a person unknown, to be disposed of to the indigent. It is vested in the minister, churchwardens, and overseers.
Four small cottages were given to the parish, by a person unknown, and are now inhabited by poor persons. They are vested in the churchwardens and overseers.
Sir John Williams, by will in 1725, founded A CHARITY SCHOOL in this parish for six poor boys, legal inhabitants, and born in this parish, to be taught reading, writing, and accounts, to be cloathed once in two years; and one such boy to be bound out apprentice, as often as money sufficient could be raised for that use. The minister, churchwardens, and overseers to be trustees, who have power to nominate others to assist them in the management of it. The master has a house to live in, and the lands given to it are let by the trustees.
The poor constantly relieved are about seventy-five, casually fifty-five.
Eleham is within the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the diocese of Canterbury, and deanry of its own name.
The church, which is dedicated to St. Mary, is large and handsome, consisting of three isles, the middle one having an upper range of windows, and one chancel, having a tower steeple, with a spire shast on it, at the west end, in which are eight bells, a clock, and chimes. Within the altar-rails is a memorial for John Somner, gent. son of the learned William Somner, of Canterbury, obt. 1695; arms, Ermine, a chevron voided. In the chancel a brass plate for Michael Pyx, of Folkestone, mayor and once high bailisf to Yarmouth, obt. 1601. Another for Nicholas Moore, gent. of Bettenham, in Cranbrooke; he died at Wingmer in 1577. In the middle isle a memorial for Captain William Symons, obt. 1674; arms, Parted per pale, and fess, three trefoils slipt. A brass plate for John Hill, dean and vicar of Eleham, obt. 1730. In this church was a lamp burning, called the light of Wyngmer, given before the year 1468, probably by one of the owners of that manor.
The church of Eleham was given by archbishop Boniface, lord of the manor of Eleham, and patron of this church appendant to it, at the instance of Walter de Merton, then canon of St. Paul's, and afterwards bishop of Rochester, to the college founded by the latter in 1263, at Maldon, in Surry. (fn. 9) After which the archbishop, in 1268, appropriated this church to the college, whenever it should become vacant by the death or cession of the rector of it, saving a reasonable vicarage of thirty marcs, to be endowed by him in it, to which the warden of the college should present to him and his successors, a fit vicar, as often as it should be vacant, to be nominated to the warden by the archbishop; otherwise the archbishop and his successors should freely from thence dispose of the vicarage for that turn. (fn. 10)
¶The year before this, Walter de Merton had begun a house in Oxford, whither some of the scholars were from time to time to resort for the advancement of their studies, to which the whole society of Maldon was, within a few years afterwards, removed, and both societies united at Oxford, under the name of the warden and fellows of Merton college. This portion of thirty marcs, which was a stated salary, and not tithes, &c. to that amount, was continued by a subsequent composition or decree of archbishop Warham, in 1532; but in 1559, the college, of their own accord, agreed to let the vicarial tithes, &c. to Thomas Carden, then vicar, at an easy rent, upon his discharging the college from the before-mentioned portion of thirty marcs: and this lease, with the like condition, has been renewed to every subsequent vicar ever since; and as an addition to their income, the vicars have for some time had another lease, of some wood grounds here, from the college. (fn. 11)
The appropriation or parsonage of this church is now held by lease from the warden and fellows, by the Rev. John Kenward Shaw Brooke, of Town-Malling. The archbishop nominates a clerk to the vicarage of it, whom the warden and fellows above-mentioned present to him for institution.
This vicarage is valued in the king's books at twenty pounds, (being the original endowment of thirty marcs), and the yearly tenths at two pounds, the clear yearly certified value of it being 59l. 15s. 2d. In 1640 it was valued at one hundred pounds per annum. Communicants six hundred. It is now of about the yearly value of one hundred and fifty pounds.
All the lands in this parish pay tithes to the rector or vicar, excepting Parkgate farm, Farthingsole farm, and Eleham-park wood, all belonging to the lord of Eleham manor, which claim a modus in lieu of tithes, of twenty shillings yearly paid to the vicar. The manor farm of Clavertigh, belonging to Sir John Honywood, bart and a parcel of lands called Mount Bottom, belonging to the Rev. Mr. Thomas Tournay, of Dover, claim a like modus in lieu of tithes.
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St. Albans School (STA) is an independent college preparatory day and boarding school for boys in grades 4–12, located in Washington, D.C. The school is named after Saint Alban, traditionally regarded as the first British martyr.[1] Within the St. Albans community, the school is commonly referred to as "S-T-A." It enrolls approximately 545 day students from grades 4 through 12, approximately 30 boarding students from grades 9 through 12, and is affiliated with the National Cathedral School for Girls (NCS) and the co-ed Beauvoir School – The National Cathedral Elementary School for PreKindergarten-3 students, all of which are located on the grounds of the Washington National Cathedral on Mount St. Alban in Washington. St. Albans, along with its affiliated schools on the Cathedral Close and the Washington National Cathedral, are members of the Protestant Episcopal Cathedral Foundation.
The school was founded in 1909, with $300,000 ($7.2 million in 2015 dollars) in funding bequeathed by Harriet Lane Johnston, niece of President James Buchanan.[1] Initially, it was a school for boy choristers to the Washington National Cathedral, a program that the school continues today.[1]
The school mascot is the bulldog, a symbol adopted under the school’s fourth headmaster, Canon Charles S. Martin, because of Martin’s fondness for his pet bulldogs.[1] The St. Albans motto, "Pro Ecclesia et Pro Patria," translates to "For Church and Country.[1]" St. Albans requires all students to attend Chapel twice a week in The Little Sanctuary. The school seeks to develop in its students a sense of moral responsibility through Chapel, its Honor Code, and a co-curricular social service program.
St. Albans in 2012
A 2004 article in the Wall Street Journal found that among U.S. schools, St. Albans had the 11th-highest success rate in placing graduates at 10 selective universities.[2] In 2012, St. Albans sent 24 out of its 75 graduates, or 32%, to an Ivy league School, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, or Stanford, making its matriculation one of the best in the country. The class of 2013 similarly fared well, with 21 graduates attending Ivy League schools or Stanford and 2 each attending the University of Chicago and the United States Military Academy. From the 76 member class of 2014, 16 headed to the Ivy League, 2 to Stanford, 1 to Duke, and 4 to the University of Chicago.
A 2015 article in "Business Insider" ranked St. Albans the smartest boarding school in America.[3]
Almost 75% of the faculty at the school have advanced degrees.[4] The school also maintains one writer-in-residence, who teaches English classes while developing his or her work. (A past writer-in-residence is Curtis Sittenfeld, who worked on her best-selling novel Prep while at St. Albans.)[5] The school's seventh headmaster is Vance Wilson, who has also recently served as the President of the International Boys School Coalition (IBSC), a world-wide organization for all-boys schools.[6]
The school opened its new Upper School building - Marriott Hall - in 2009–2010. The firm Skidmore, Owings, and Merrill LLP, designed the new building, which has been the subject of articles in numerous publications, including The Washington Post, The Architects Newspaper, Building Stone Magazine, Arch Daily, Architecture DC, Mid-Atlantic Real Estate Journal, Construction, School Planning & Management, and American Society of Civil Engineers.[7]
Contents [hide]
1Admissions and financial aid
2Athletics
3Extracurriculars and clubs
4School of Public Service
5Summer programs
6Notable alumni
7References
8External links
Admissions and financial aid[edit]
St. Albans
The St. Albans application process begins in the fall prior to the student's intended year of attendance. In September, a family may schedule a tour and interview, both of which occur during a single visit and are a required component of the application process. In addition to the visit, a general application form, personal statement, teacher recommendations, standardized testing, and a school transcript are required for the application. Decisions become available in March.
St. Albans operates a need-blind admission policy. As a result, a student's application for financial aid has no bearing on his application for admission.[8]
The St. Albans Skip Grant Program offers financial aid and other support to enrolled students from a diversity of socioeconomic and ethnic backgrounds. This program was started by former St. Albans teacher Brooks Johnson and is now named after the program’s second director, former teacher, coach, and athletic director, Oliver “Skip” Grant.[9]
Athletics[edit]
Along with academics and social service, the athletic program at St. Albans is considered co-curricular and all students are required to participate. St. Albans competes in the Interstate Athletic Conference (IAC), a league of independent schools in the Washington, D.C. area. In addition to fielding varsity teams in 14 sports: cross country, football, soccer, aquatics, basketball, indoor soccer, ice hockey, wrestling, track and field, lacrosse, baseball, tennis, golf, and crew, the school offers the Voyageur Outdoor Experiential Education program in which students can participate in such sports as indoor rock climbing on a climbing wall and white water kayaking. St. Albans rock climbers compete in the Washington Area Interscholastic Climbing League and kayakers no longer participate in interscholastic competition on the Great Falls rapids of the Potomac River, because the other schools decided to stop competing.
In recent years, programs that have experienced success and produced significant numbers of intercollegiate athletes include baseball, crew, cross-country, football, and lacrosse. The crew team won the Virginia State Rowing Championships in 2010 and 2011, placed second at the Stotesbury Cup Regatta in 2010 and first in 2011, and placed fourth at the Scholastic Rowing Association of America Regatta in 2010 and third in 2011; cross-country has won seven IAC banners in the last 10 years, and in 2009, won the DC-MD Private Schools Championship; football has won three IAC banners in the last four years; lacrosse won the IAC in 2007. The varsity soccer team also won the IAC Championship outright in 2012 by defeating Landon in the tournament final. In addition, they emerged victorious in the first ever DCSAA tournament against Maret, securing the treble (IAC regular season champions, IAC tournament champions, DCSAA champions). On May 6, 2014, the lacrosse team knocked off then-second ranked in the nation Georgetown Prep (MD) in the last athletic contest on Saterlee-Henderson Field. A construction project renovating the athletic facilities was completed in September 2015[10] During the 2015 season, the team repeated as soccer champions, defeating Georgetown Prep in the IAC tournament final, and Washington International School in the DCSAA tournament final.
Extracurriculars and clubs[edit]
St. Albans has one official student newspaper, The Saint Albans News, founded in 1930. Students publish several books annually: the Albanian, the yearbook, Grace, a collection of chapel homilies, and Gyre, a literary magazine that includes a CD featuring music by the students and faculty. There is also one non-official student newspaper, The Independent.
The school also sponsors many political clubs including the decades-old Government Club which encourages debates between liberals and conservatives, and a Model United Nations club that competes in conferences on the East Coast of the United States. Academic teams such as "It's Academic," Fed Challenge, JETS, and a math team are also popular. Fundraising groups for charity are commonplace at the school, and most dances held at the school donate profits to charity.
St. Albans has an active student vestry that gives homilies in Chapel and invites guest speakers to chapel services. Each grade elects three vestry members. Form VI (Grade 12) has three vestry members in addition to the Senior Warden, a student who presides over the vestry.
The Upper School has a student council that serves on the disciplinary councils and organizes social events and the annual school Diversity Day (every year a different topic regarding diversity is addressed though speakers, discussion groups, and films). Each grade has three prefects, one of whom is the class president. There is also a Head Prefect, always a Form VI (Grade 12) student.
School of Public Service[edit]
The Lane-Johnston building of St. Albans School in 1910.
St. Albans established its School of Public Service ("SPS") in 2002. SPS is a residential public policy, politics, and public service program that takes place for a four-week period each summer, beginning in late June. Nearly 40 rising high school seniors are selected to participate in SPS, located at St. Albans School. SPS admits both male and female students who have already shown a great deal of interest in public service, as well as an ability to positively influence others. While in the program, students gain experiences designed to heighten not only an interest in public service but also their probability of entering into and succeeding in a career in civic leadership. SPS students are held to a high level of scholarship, using case studies (including some from Harvard's Kennedy School of Government) that are more commonly used at the graduate level.[11]
In addition to using the case study method—used for graduate study in law, business, and public policy—SPS students continue the dynamic learning experience outside the classroom through policy simulations, speakers, and visits and meetings with public servants from State Department Foreign Service Officers to serving Army and Marine officers. In the past several years, SPS students have (in simulation) run congressional campaigns, negotiated their way through a dangerous crisis with North Korea, taken steps to contain a flu pandemic sweeping the nation, and argued and decided Supreme Court cases on First Amendment and national security issues. In the "real" world, the SPS students have, among other things, visited the White House to talk with the White House Chief of Staff, had lunch with the Governor of Maryland, hosted a formal dinner for Ambassadors from around the world, attended screenings of "Meet the Press" and talked with host David Gregory, met with members of the U.S. Supreme Court, and chatted about fiscal policy with the Chairman of the Federal Reserve.
Summer programs[edit]
St. Albans offers a number of camps and classes in the summer designed for children of various ages and interests and fostering both intellectual and physical development. The diverse curriculum consists of core academic classes, as well as specialty courses in such fields as technology and study skills. On the athletic front, St. Albans has once again partnered with Headfirst, a provider of sports instruction and other recreational activities, and Power Through Sports Basketball to offer an impressive variety of camps to students. The school also offers before and after care, as well as a daily “cool down” in the St. Albans indoor pool for full-day campers. Its academic classes consist of things like robotics and chemistry.
Notable alumni[edit]
David C. Acheson, son of former Secretary of State Dean Acheson, lawyer, former United States Assistant Secretary of the Treasury, President of the Atlantic Council, attended and went on to graduate from Groton School[12]
K. Shankar Bajpai '44, former Indian Ambassador to the United States, China, the Netherlands, and High Commissioner to Pakistan
Malcolm Baker '87, professor at Harvard Business School and former Olympic rower
Marion Christopher Barry, businessman, son of former DC mayor Marion Barry
Charles F. Bass, United States Congressman from New Hampshire
Evan Bayh '74, former United States Senator for Indiana[13]
Ralph Becker, Mayor of Salt Lake City
Odell Beckham Jr., current wide receiver for the New York Giants, attended 7th grade after his home town was struck by Hurricane Katrina.
John Bellinger '77, legal advisor to the State Department
James Bennet, editor-in-chief of The Atlantic Monthly magazine[14]
Michael Bennet '83, United States Senator for Colorado
James Boasberg '81, District Judge on the United States District Court for the District of Columbia
Tom Boasberg '82, Superintendent of Denver Public Schools
Joshua Bolten '72, former White House Chief of Staff[15]
David Bosco, journalist and assistant professor of international politics at American University
Keith Bradsher '82, journalist, The New York Times chief Hong-Kong correspondent
Brooke "Untz" Brewer '16, Former NFL athlete and World Class Sprinter
Clancy Brown '77, American actor (The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension, The Shawshank Redemption, Carnivàle, and Starship Troopers) and chairman of the board of Brown Publishing Company
Olin Browne '77, Professional golfer, 3-time PGA Tour event champion[16]
Garnett Bruce '85, American opera director
Neil Bush '73, son of former President of the United States George H.W. Bush, brother of former U.S. President George W. Bush[17]
Josh Byrnes, General Manager for the San Diego Padres
Goodloe Byron '45, United States congressman from Maryland's 6th District
John Casey '57, novelist
Michael Collins '48, Apollo 11 astronaut[18]
Peter Cook, Bloomberg anchor and journalist
Walter J. Cummings, Jr., Solicitor General of the United States from 1952 to 1953; judge on the United States Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit
Jonathan Daniels '18, White House Press Secretary, author
Eli Whitney Debevoise II '70, U.S. Executive Director of The World Bank
Brandon Victor Dixon '99, Tony-nominated Broadway actor
George M. Ferris, Jr. '44, President of the firm Ferris Baker Watts
Miles Fisher '02, television and film actor
Harold Ford Jr. '88, former United States congressman and current head of the Democratic Leadership Council[19]
Rodney Frelinghuysen '64, Congressman from New Jersey
David Gardner, co-founder of The Motley Fool
Tom Gardner, co-founder of The Motley Fool
James W. Gilchrist, Maryland Assemblyman representing Montgomery County, Maryland
Al Gore Jr. '65, former Congressman and United States Senator from Tennessee, Nobel laureate, and the 45th Vice President of the United States.
Donald E. Graham '62, former chairman of The Washington Post
Thomas N.E. Greville '27, American mathematician
Paul Greenberg '86, former CEO of CollegeHumor and current CEO of fashion magazine Nylon
Ernest Graves, Jr. '41, Lieutenant general, former director of Defense Security Cooperation Agency
Frederick Hauck '58, astronaut, commander of Space Shuttle Discovery
André Heinz '88, American environmentalist and H. John Heinz IV, members of the Heinz family
Samuel Herrick '28, American astronomer, professor at UCLA
Bill Hobby '49, Texas Lieutenant Governor 1973–91
Stuart Holliday '83, former U.S. Representative for Special Political Affairs in the United Nations and President of Meridian International Center
Jesse Hubbard '94, professional lacrosse player[20]
Danny Hultzen '08, baseball pitcher, 2nd overall pick of the 2011 Major League Baseball Draft by the Seattle Mariners
Brit Hume '61, Fox News television anchor[21]
Reed Hundt '65, former FCC Chairman[22]
Prince Feisal bin Al Hussein of Jordan '81, son of King Hussein and Princess Muna al-Hussein, and the younger brother of king Abdullah II.
Adi Ignatius '76, editor-in-chief of Harvard Business Review.
David Ignatius '68, Washington Post Columnist, author of Body of Lies[23]
Uzodinma Iweala '00, critically acclaimed author[24]
Jesse Jackson, Jr. '84, United States congressman, son of the Rev. Jesse Jackson, Sr.[25]
Steven Berlin Johnson '86, popular science author
Bo Jones '64, former publisher and CEO of the Washington Post, director of the Associated Press
Draper L. Kauffman, past Superintendent of the United States Naval Academy
Thomas Kean '53, former governor of New Jersey, chairman of the 9/11 Commission, attended 4th and 5th grades
Edward Kennedy, Jr. '79, founder of the Marwood Group, son of senator Ted Kennedy
Randall Kennedy '73, Harvard Law School professor
Tyler Kent, American diplomat convicted of spying for the Nazi Germany government during World War II
John Kerry, 68th United States Secretary of State, Democratic candidate in the United States presidential election, 2004; attended lower school for several years before graduating from St. Paul's School in New Hampshire
Nick Kotz '51, American journalist, author, and historian who won the Pulitzer Prize for National Reporting in 1968
Damian Kulash '94, lead singer of rock band OK Go[26]
Robert D. Lamberton '60, classics scholar, poet, and translator, professor at Washington University in St. Louis
Tom Ligon '58, character actor, Paint Your Wagon (film), Bang the Drum Slowly, The Young and the Restless, Oz
Henry Cabot Lodge, Jr., former United States Senator from Massachusetts, United States Ambassador to United Nations, South Vietnam, and Special Envoy to the Vatican, and 1960 Vice Presidential Candidate.
John Davis Lodge, 79th Governor of Connecticut, and former United States Ambassador to Spain, Argentina, and Switzerland.
Nick Lowery '74, former professional football player, Kansas City Chiefs
C. Max Magee '96, founder of The Millions
J. W. Marriott, Jr. '50, billionaire, chairman and former CEO of Marriott International
Richard E. Marriott '56, billionaire, brother of J. W. Marriott, Jr. and CEO of Host Hotels & Resorts
Jay Pierrepont Moffat, Jr. '49, U.S. diplomat, ambassador to Chad
William H. Mondale '80, Assistant Attorney General for the State of Minnesota, son of former Vice President of the United States Walter Mondale
Arthur Cotton Moore '54, architect known for the Washington Harbour development, renovation of the Thomas Jefferson Building, and the restoration of The Cairo.
Bill Oakley '84, former executive producer of The Simpsons
Jonathan Ogden '92, former professional football player, 2000 Super Bowl Champion, 2013 NFL Hall of Fame inductee Baltimore Ravens
Jameson Parker, former co-star of 1980s television series Simon & Simon
Michael J. Petrucelli, Founder, Clearpath Inc., Deputy Director and Acting Director of US Citizenship and Immigration Services at the US Department of Homeland Security
Laughlin Phillips '42, former director of The Phillips Collection
David Plotz '86, writer and editor at Slate
Ben Quayle, son of Dan Quayle and former Congressman from Arizona
John D. Rockefeller V '88, lecturer at Johns Hopkins University, eldest son of West Virginia Senator Jay Rockefeller, and fifth generation member of the Rockefeller family
Justin Rockefeller '98, political activist and fifth generation member of the Rockefeller family
James Roosevelt, son of Franklin Roosevelt, Congressman from California, attended and went on to graduate from Groton School
Kermit Roosevelt III '88, novelist, law professor University of Pennsylvania
Mark Roosevelt '74, superintendent of the Pittsburgh Public Schools, President of Antioch College
Alex Ross '86, music critic of The New Yorker, MacArthur Fellow
Luke Russert '04, NBC correspondent and XM Satellite radio host, son of Tim Russert,[27]
Hib Sabin '53, American sculptor and educator
Barton Seaver '97, Chef and author
Timothy Shriver '77, Chairman of Special Olympics[28] son of Eunice Kennedy Shriver and Sargent Shriver;
Bruce Smathers, former Florida Secretary of State, son of US Senator George Smathers
Frank M. Snowden III '64, son of African American scholar Frank M. Snowden, Jr., Professor of History at Yale University[29]
Tomas Eduardo Müller Sproat '63, Chilean Ambassador to the United Kingdom
Burr Steers, director of the film Igby Goes Down
Andrew Stevovich '66, artist
Ned Temko '70, editor of The Jewish Chronicle
Russell E. Train '37, former Director of the EPA, Founder Chairman Emeritus of World Wildlife Fund
James "Jimmie"Trimble III '43, baseball player and marine, killed in action at Iwo Jima [30]
Gore Vidal, author/writer, attended and went on to graduate from Phillips Exeter Academy
Peter Jon de Vos '56, former United States Ambassador to Mozambique, Cape Verde, Guinea-Bissau, Liberia, Tanzania, and Costa Rica
The Walkmen, musicians (four out of the five members attended)[26]
John Warner, former United States Secretary of the Navy, five-term Republican Senator from Virginia, attended but did not graduate
Josh Weinstein '84, former executive producer of The Simpsons
Jonathan Williams, American poet, founder of The Jargon Society
John C. White '94, Louisiana Superintendent of Education since 2012[31]
Sheldon Whitehouse, Rhode Island Attorney General and Senator, attended and went on to graduate from St. Paul's School
Thomas Wilner '62, lawyer at Shearman & Sterling who represented Guantanamo Bay detention camp detainees
Robert Wisdom '72, actor, played Bunny Colvin on HBO's The Wire
Paul Woodruff '60, classicist, professor, dean at the University of Texas at Austin
Jeffrey Wright '83, Emmy and Tony Award-winning actor (Angels in America, Basquiat, Syriana)[32]
Joon Yun '86, Korean-American physician and hedge fund manager
Jeffrey Zients '84, Director of the Office of Management & Budget, Businessman, first Chief Performance Officer of the United States
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
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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.
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I took these photos on a chance encounter, at Maligne Lake, Jasper National Park. We visited just to see the scenery, and were totally taken by surprise when the moose turned up. I think moose would have been one of the highest of my list of animals to see in Canada, but I thought it was pretty low down in terms of probability. I think we just got very lucky to stumble on them in such spectacular surroundings.
We were able to sit and watch this mother and calf for about 30 mins or so. They seemed pretty relaxed.
An der Adresse Bahngasse 3 in Wiener Neustadt befand sich ab dem Jahr 1245 bis 1809 eine Kommende des Deutschen Ritterordens. Mit hoher Wahrscheinlichkeit hat Erzherzog Johann von Österreich, der diesem Ritterorden angehörte, in diesem Haus zwischen 1805 und 1809 an Versammlungen des Ordens teilgenommen. Nach 1809 wurde das Haus an Textilhersteller verpachtet, 1918 verkauft.
At the address Bahngasse 3 at Wiener Neustadt was situated beginning with the year 1245 a commandry of the German chivalric order. In all probability has Archduke John of Austria, who was member of this order, in this house between 1805 and 1809 joined some meetings of that order. After 1809 the house was leased to textile manufacturers and sold in 1918.
Few kilometers from Harar, you can find a market for Khat, open 24/24, 7/7. I showed the pictures of this market to people around Ethiopia who buy everyday few branches of khat, and they could not believe it!
If you see someone in Yemen with a swollen cheek and tossing small greenish leaves in his mouth in a smoky room ina deafening hurly-burly, there is high probability that he is a khat (pronounce “cot”; as well spelled qat in Yemen, gat or qaad in Somalia, jad, chad or chat in Ethiopia, tohai, tschat or miraa in Kenya, marungi in Uganda and Rwanda; in latin Catha edulis) user.
Whether this flowering evergreen tree with large shrubs is native of the Horn of Africa or the Arabian Peninsula is still unknown. The fresh khat leaves are alternatively chewed and kept in the cheek and the juice swallowed. Some swallow the leaves and juice altogether, but others prefer to spit it once they have lost all their properties.
Khat leaves contain a drug made up of two alkaloid molecules (cathine and cathinone organic compounds), which have psychotropic effects. This substance influences on the brain, causing excitement, euphoria, and loss of appetite and sleepiness. It is much appreciated by workers, long journey drivers and students, since it enhances concentration and muscular force. Low consumers say it acts like a strong coffee, but khat is as powerful as amphetamines some scientists reckon. Anyhow it is somewhat addictive and some of the biggest users have been reported prone to withdrawal symptoms. Therefore at a high dose, khat can lead to mental diseases as psychosis or cause heart problems. Frequently used, the cathinone leads to a rise of blood pressure and heart rate. Also it was given evidence that a long-term use of khat favors oral cancers.
More than the substance itself, it is the particular context of its use that makes khat attractive. On the contrary of some hallucinogen drugs that favor soul-searching, khat brings openness and mental clearness, enabling easier relationships with fellow consumers. And more than the plant itself, it is the consumption of sugary drinks (in order to mask the slight bitterness) and tobacco associated with khat chewing which is problematic.
An estimated 10 million people are khat users in the world today. The biggest consumption is in Yemen, followed by Ethiopia. Somalia as well copes with a large number of consumers whereas it has been prohibited by Al-Shebaab Islamic militancy movement that controls parts of the Somali territory since “it is responsible for youth unemployment”, they said.
It is prohibited as a drug in most western countries, except the Netherlands, where khat trading is free and the U.K., where it is considered as a class C drug but legally sold in a few groceries. The Somali diaspora’s consumption is a problem when khat is reputed illegal in the country they settled in: they must infringe the law if they want to keep on chewing.
Kenya, Yemen and Ethiopia are major international producers. Fresh khat leaves have passed to be one of Ethiopia’s biggest exports crops, still ranking after coffee but close. Ethiopian khat is grown in the Kaffa area, while it is sold in Harar in the East. Neighboring Awadai city, where it is legal and as widespread as coffee or alcohol, is entirely devoted to the selling of khat. It is an international hub from which every night, loaded trucks leave for Somalia, Djibouti and the Arabian Peninsula, while planes take of in direction of Amsterdam and London airports. Indeed, khat must keep fresh to have the maximum efficiency. An estimated 25,000 kilograms per day are sold through Awadai hub market.
Khat growing is twice as profitable as coffee. Therefore, over the past few years, it has been replacing the small family farms crops, and it has endangered a lot the coffee economy.
Especially men consider khat get-togethers as a social institution or habit that contributes to the creation of a cultural identity. Eventually, the khat chewing ritual has been taking place for centuries among the societies of the horn of Africa and the Arabian Peninsula (Yemen, Oman, Saudi Arabia), where a lot of people consume khat on a daily basis. They even call the leaves “the Muslims’ alcohol”.
Women are less prone than men to khat consumption. Still some of them chew it as well. In some countries female Khat chewers are associated with sexual working. Khat affects pregnant women by reducing maternal daily food intake and mean birth weight of the offspring.
Money is another important issue. Indeed, khat is relatively costly.
Economically speaking, khat diverts household income that could have been used for nutritious food, home improvements, education or other family needs that people on those countries are in very big need for. For some families, one person’s daily consumption price is equivalent amount for feeding the whole family. It is clear that, poverty, poor health, poor housing, poor education and social isolation are common characteristics of those that use khat.
Meles Zenawi, Ethiopia’s president is reputed to have been a khat addict before taking office. The Christian preachers condemn khat use.
© Eric Lafforgue
+++ 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 Parder was a successor of the Tiger I & II tanks, combining the latter's thick armor with the armor sloping used on the Panther medium tank (which was, in fact, inspired by Soviet designs, most of all by the T-34). While several Entwicklungspanzer designs were under development, the Parder was a short-term attempt to overcome the Tiger II's main shortcoming: its weight of almost seventy metric tons (it was protected by up to 180 mm/7.1" of front armor!), the resulting lack of mobility and an overburdened drivetrain originally intended for a lighter vehicle. Leaking seals and gaskets also took their toll on reliability.
In order to keep the development phase short the Parder used basically the same chassis as the Tiger II, as well as the engine, transmission and the long barreled 8.8 cm KwK 43 L/71 gun. But it reveiced a new hull with optimized armor and many detail modifications that reduced the overall weight by more than ten tons, getting overall weight back to the level of the Tiger I
The SdKfz. 190 used a conventional hull design with sloped armor from all sides, resembling the layout of the T-34 a lot. Its was so effective that the front armor could be reduced to 120 mm (4.7 in) with only little loss in protection. The crew was reduced to four, only the driver remained in the hull and the front machine gun was omitted, too.
The 'Parder' (archaic German term for leopard), how the vehicle was semi-officially christened by the Entwicklungskommission Panzer, had a rear mounted engine and used nine steel-tired overlapping road wheels per side with internal springing, mounted on transverse torsion bars.
The turret had been designed by Krupp and featured a rounded front and steeply sloped sides, with a difficult-to-manufacture curved bulge on the turret's left side to accommodate the commander's cupola (often related to as the "Porsche" turret). The powerful 8.8 cm KwK 43 L/71 gun was combined with the Turmzielfernrohr 9d (German "turret telescopic sight") monocular sight by Leitz - a very accurate and deadly weapon.
During practice, the estimated probability of a first round hit on a 2 m (6 ft 7 in) high, 2.5 m (8 ft 2 in) wide target only dropped below 100 percent at ranges beyond 1,000 m (0.62 mi), to 95–97 percent at 1,500 metres (0.93 mi) and 85–87 percent at 2,000 m (1.2 mi), depending on ammunition type. Recorded combat performance was lower, but still over 80 percent at 1,000 m, in the 60s at 1,500 m and the 40s at 2,000 m.
Penetration of armored plate inclined at 30 degrees was 202 and 132 mm (8.0 and 5.2 in) at 100 m (110 yd) and 2,000 m (1.2 mi) respectively for the Panzergranate 39/43 projectile (PzGr—armor-piercing shell), and 238 and 153 mm (9.4 and 6.0 in) for the PzGr. 40/43 projectile between the same ranges. The Sprenggranate 43 (SpGr) high-explosive round was available for soft targets, or the Hohlgranate or Hohlgeschoss 39 (HlGr—HEAT or High explosive anti-tank warhead) round, which had 90 mm (3.5 in) penetration at any range, could be used as a dual-purpose munition against soft or armored targets.
Like all German tanks, the Parder had a gasoline engine; in this case the same 700 PS (690 hp, 515 kW) V-12 Maybach HL 230 P30 which powered the Panther, Tiger I and Tiger II tanks. The Tiger II was under-powered with it, though, and consumed a lot of fuel, which was in short supply for the Germans, but in the Parder it proved to be adequate, even though performance was not oustanding. The transmission was the Maybach OLVAR EG 40 12 16 Model B, giving eight forward gears and four reverse, which drove the steering gear.
In order to distribute the tank's weight an extra wide track was used, but this meant that each tank was issued with two sets of tracks: a normal "battle track" and a narrower "transport" version used during rail movement. The transport tracks reduced the overall width of the load and could be used to drive the tank short distances on firm ground.
The Parder was, like many German late war designs, rushed into combat, but thanks to its Tiger I & II heritage many mechanical teething problems had already been corrected. Reliability was considerably improved compared to the much heavier Tiger II, and the Parder did prove to be a very effective fighting vehicle, especially in a defensive role. However, some design flaws, such as its weak final drive units, were never corrected due to raw material shortages, and more tanks were given up by the crews than actually destroyed in combat.
The Parder was issued to heavy tank battalions of the Army (Schwere Heerespanzerabteilung – abbreviated s.H.Pz.Abt) where it replaced the Tiger I & II.
Specifications:
Crew Four (commander, gunner, loader, driver)
Weight 54 tonnes (60 short tons)
Length 7.02 metres (23 ft in) (hull only)
10.64 metres (34 ft 10 1/3 in) with gun forward
Width 3.88 metres (12 ft 9 in)
4.14 metres (13 ft 6 3/4 in) with optional Thoma shields
Height 2.84 metres (9 ft 4 in) w/o AA machine gun
Suspension torsion-bar
Ground clearance: 495 to 510 mm (1 ft 7.5 in to 1 ft 8.1 in)
Fuel capacity: 820 l (180 imp gal; 220 US gal)
Armor:
30–120 mm (1.2 – 4.7 in)
Performance:
Speed
- Maximum, road: 41.5 km/h (25.8 mph)
- Sustained, road: 38 km/h (24 mph)
- Cross country: 15 to 20 km/h (9.3 to 12.4 mph)
Operational range: 240 km (150 mi)
Power/weight: 12,96 PS/tonne (11,5 hp/ton)
Engine:
V-12 Maybach HL 230 P30 gasoline with 700 PS (690 hp, 515 kW)
Transmission:
Maybach OLVAR EG 40 12 16 B (8 forward and 4 reverse)
Armament:
1× 8.8 cm KwK 43 L/71 with 80 rounds
1× co-axial 7.92 mm Maschinengewehr 34 with 3.000 rounds
The kit and its assembly:
Something different… a whif tank! This was spawned from curiosity and the “wish” to build a German vehicle that would fit right into the E-25… E-100 range of experimental tanks.
It was to become a battle tank, and while browsing options and donation kits, I settled upon a replacement for the formidable but heavy and cumbersome Tiger B, also known as Tiger II, Königstiger or (wrongfully translated) King Tiger.
Anyway, creating a tank that would look (late war) German and still be whiffy was trickier than expected, and finally easier than expected, too. My solution would be a kit bashing: using many Tiger B parts (including the stylish Porsche tower and the running gear) and combining it with a hull that would offer better armor angles and look less “boxy”.
I effectively bashed two kits: one is the excellent 1:72 early Tiger B from Dragon, the other is Roden’s Soviet IS-3 tank – also very nice, even though the styrene is somewhat brittle.
My biggest fear was the running gear – combining the IS-3 hull with the Tiger B’s totally different legs scared me a lot – until I found that the parts from both kits (the Tiger B’s lower hull with all the suspension and the IS-3’s upper hull) could be combined rather easily combined. Just some cuts and improvised intersections, and the “new” tank hull was done!
As a side effect, the huge turret moved forward, and this considerably changes the silhouette. The IS-3’s opening had only to be widened slightly in order to accept the Porsche turret. Things matched up pretty well, also concerning size and proportions.
Otherwise, not much was changed. All wheels and tracks come from the Trumpeter Tiger B, the turret was also borrowed wholesale. I just changed some details (e. g. moving the spare track elements to the hull front), added some handles and also a heavy AA machine gun on the commander’s cupola, which is OOB, too.
Too simple? Well, for me it was not enough. For a more personal edge to the kit I decided to add Thoma skirts! Not the massive 5mm plates you frequently see on late Panzer IV tanks and its derivatives, rather the mesh type – lighter, less material-consuming, and a very special detail.
These were scratched. There are PE sets available, but that was too expensive and I was not certain if such items would fit in shape and size? So I made a cardboard template for the flanks and built a pair of skirts from styrene strips and a fine PET mesh that I had salvaged from a wallet long time ago.
The stuff is hard to glue onto something, so the styrene frame had to carry the mesh parts – and it works! The attachments to the hull were also scratched from styrene.
The Thoma shields add more width to the flat tank, but I think that they set the kit even more apart than just the borrowed IS-3 hull?
Painting and markings:
Hmmm, not totally happy with the finish. This was supposed to become a simple Hinterhalt (Ambush) paint scheme in Dark Yellow, Olive Green and Red Brown, but I did so much weathering that not much from the scheme can be recognized…
Painting was straightforward, though – I used Humbrol 94 and 173 as well as Modelmaster’s RAL 6003 as basic colors. The scheme’s benchmark is the official Tiger B scheme.
The basic colors received mottles in green on the yellow and yellow on the green and brown, and then the thing was thoroughly weathered with a black ink wash, dry-brushing, some aquarelle paint to simulate dust, and finally some pigments that simulate mud.
The tracks are made from soft vinyl, and also received a paint treatment in order to get rid of that shiny vinyl look: at first, with a mix of black and silver, which was immediately wiped off again, and later with a second, similar turn with silver and dark brown.
The mud was added just before the whole running gear was mounted as one of the final assembly stages, and final retouches were made with acrylic umbra paint.
Alas, I think I overdid it – much of the formidable and very attractive paint scheme was lost, even though the yucky, brownish finish now also works fine and looks like rough duty?
So, an experiment with good and bad results. Certainly not the last whif tank (at least one more on the agenda), and after so many aircraft a new kind of challenge. ^^