CHAPTER XXII.
ST. MARTIN'S-IN-THE-FIELDS.
"Why, how now, Babell, whither wilt thou build?
I see old Holbourne, Charing Crosse, the Strand,
Are going to St. Giles's-in-the-Field."—Tom Freeman's Epigrams (1614).
St. Martin's-in-the-Fields in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries—The Church built by Henry VIII.—The Church rebuilt—Description of
the Edifice—Burial of Sir Edmundbury Godfrey—Notabilities interred in the Churchyard—The Parish Rate-books—Curious Stories about
St. Martin's Church—The Royal Society of Literature—Anthropological Institute—National Society for aiding the Sick and Wounded in
War—Archbishop Tenison's Library and School—An Ancient Chapel or Oratory—Historic and Artistic Associations of St. Martin's Lane.
If we could throw ourselves mentally back three
centuries, and could take a view of the district
lying between St. James's Palace and the villages
of Charing and St. Giles's, as it appeared about the
year 1560, we should see little more than an open
tract of fields. At that time there were only three,
or, at the most, four houses towards the eastern
end of Pall Mall, and a little further a small church,
which has long since disappeared. Still nearer
to the Palace, about the centre of what is now St.
James's Square, was a well, enclosed in four low
walls. The Hay Market and Hedge Lane, as late
as the reign of Charles II., were literally lanes,
fringed on either side with hedges; and all to the
north was open country. In the ancient plans of
London the Hay Market is quite clear of buildings,
and Windmill Street derived its name, when first
built, from a windmill standing in a field on its
west side, with a small rural stable in the rear of it.
The parish of St. Martin was originally taken out
of that of St. Margaret's; and yet so rapid was its
growth, that in 1786 it had come to be "one of the
most populous within the bills of mortality," being
estimated to contain more than 5,000 houses,
although the parishes of St. Paul's, Covent Garden;
St. Anne's, Soho; St. James's, Piccadilly; and St.
George's, Hanover Square, had all been in turn
carved out of it.

THE FIRST ROYAL ACADEMY; ABOUT 1740. (See page 147.)
In very early times it is said that a chapel
dedicated to St. Martin was erected near Charing
Cross, "for the convenience of the officers of
Westminster Abbey and Palace, on their way to
Covent Garden;" and this, no doubt, was the
original "St. Martin's-in-the-Fields." But this is
only a tradition. More trustworthy is the statement that St. Martin's was built by order and at
the cost of Henry VIII., who disliked to see the
funerals of his liege subjects passing through or
past Whitehall, much as Louis XIV. of France resolved to build the Château at Versailles because
he could not help seeing the towers of St. Denis
from the terrace at Saint-Germain.
The church is so called after the chivalrous
Hungarian, St. Martin, who was Bishop of Tours
in the fourth century, and in whose honour it is
dedicated. It received its surname, "in the fields,"
like its sister church of St. Giles, from its situation
outside the City proper, when it was first taken
into the bills of mortality, in order to distinguish it
from other churches eastwards under the same
dedication.
That there was a church on or near this spot
as far back as the times of our Norman kings is
shown by a dispute, in the year 1222, between
William, Abbot of Westminster, and Eustace,
Bishop of London, in which the former claimed
for it exemption from the bishop's authority—a
claim which was decided by the Archbishop of
Canterbury in favour of the abbot. This would
appear to confirm the tradition that originally it
was a chapel for the use of the monks of Westminster, when they visited the convent whose
garden abutted on it to the east. Be this, however, as it may, the endowments of St. Martin's
Chapel fell, along with the monks to whom it
belonged, under the ruthless paw of Henry VIII.,
who is said, as already remarked, to have erected
in its stead a small parochial church. In 1607 this
church was enlarged, at the cost of Prince Henry,
son of King James I.

OLD COCKSPUR STREET.
While the Strand was inhabited by the highest
titled families, it is no matter of wonder that St.
Martin's-in-the-Fields should have been a somewhat
fashionable parish in the early Georgian era. In
1721 the church was pulled down, and the present
edifice was erected in its place. It was built by
Gibbs, the architect of the Radcliffe Library at
Oxford, and cost nearly £60,000. George I. took
a great interest in the building of the church, and
is said to have been so delighted at its completion
that he gave £100 to be distributed among the
workmen employed on it, and £1,500 more to
purchase an organ. The organ, however, was long
ago replaced by another.
The portico, of lofty Corinthian columns, is
much admired, as, indeed, is the entire west front,
to which an ascent is gained up a long flight of
steps. In the pediment are seen the royal arms in
bas-relief, beneath which is a Latin inscription
relating to the foundation of the church. The
steeple is stately and elegant, and very lofty, and
in the tower is an excellent peal of twelve bells.
"The church of St. Martin," says Mr. Gwynn,
"is esteemed one of the best in this city, though
far from being so fine as it is usually represented to
be. The absurd rustication of the windows, and
the heavy sills and trusses under them, are unpardonable blemishes, and very improperly introduced into this composition of the Corinthian
order, as it takes away the delicacy which should
be preserved in this kind of building. The steeple
itself is good, but it is so constructed that it seems
to stand upon the roof of the church, there being
no appearance of its continuation from the foundation, and consequently it seems to want support;
an error of which Gibbs is not alone guilty, but
which is very elegantly and judiciously avoided in
the turrets in front of St. Paul's; indeed, the spire
of the steeple of St. Martin's Church being
formed by internal sweeps, makes the angles too
acute, which always produces an ill effect. Upon
the whole, St. Martin's Church is composed on a
grand style of one order, and the portico is truly
noble."
Mr. Malton says, "We have in the exterior of
this church an excellent example of Roman architecture in its highest style of improvement, without
the tawdry and meretricious ornaments with which
the Romans frequently disfigured their sacred
edifices. It is also the most successful attempt
to unite the light and picturesque beauty of the
modern steeple to the sober grandeur and square
solidity of the Grecian temple. The insulated
columns in the recesses at the extremity of the
flanks of this church are striking and bold, and
once had the merit of novelty, though it is now,
by frequent imitation, become less remarkable."
Vast vaults extend from the portico to the east
end of the structure, which are light and dry, and
contain great numbers of bodies, deposited within
separate apartments, and on the floor of the open
space. These vaults, however, have for many
years been closed up, interments being no longer
permitted. The roof of the church is supported by
eight pillars, and also by four pilasters and entablatures, which support the ceilings over the aisles.
The vaulting of the nave is elaborately ornamented
with stucco-work, and the sacrarium commences
with a semi-circle and terminates in a recess. The
interior decorations are very fine. Mr. Gibbs, the
architect, in speaking of the elliptical ceiling, says
he found by experience that it is "much better for
the voice than the semi-circular, though not so
beautiful. It is divided into panels, enriched with
fret-work by Signors Artari and Bagutti, the best
fret-workers that ever came to England." Slender
Corinthian columns, raised on high pedestals, rising
to the front of the galleries, serve to support both
them and the roof, which, on the sides, rests upon
them in a very ornamental arch-work. The east
end is richly adorned with fret-work and gilding;
and over the altar is a large Venetian window,
filled with stained glass.
An allusion to the worshippers in the new church
occurs in the "London Spy," published in 1725.
"The inhabitants are now supplied with a decent
tabernacle, which can produce as handsome a show
of white hands, diamond rings, pretty snuff-boxes,
and gilt prayer-books, as any cathedral whatever.
Here the fair penitents pray in their patches, sue
for pardon in their paint, and see their heaven in
man." St. Martin's was the royal parish, and in its
registers were recorded the births of the princes
and princesses born in Westminster, previous to
the formation of St. James's parish.
In the vestry-room, on the south-east side of
the church, is an admirably-executed model of St.
Martin's Church. The vestry walls are adorned
with portraits of most of the vicars since the year
1670, many of whom attained high distinction in
the Church. There are also half-length portraits of
George I., and of Mr. Gibbs, the architect, and one
of the unfortunate Sir Edmundbury Godfrey. In
one of the windows is a painting of St. Martin
dividing his mantle with a beggar, in illustration of
the ancient legend.
In the churchyard, which is now covered with
flat stones, was buried, "with great solemnity,"
after having lain in state at Bridewell Hospital for
two days, the body of Sir Edmundbury Godfrey.
"The pall was supported by eight knights, all
justices of the peace; and in the procession were
all the city aldermen, together with seventy-two
clergymen, in full canonicals, who walked in couples
before the body, and a great multitude followed
after." The clergyman who preached the sermon
on the occasion was supported on either side by a
brother divine. A tablet to the memory of Sir
Edmundbury Godfrey was erected in the east
cloister of Westminster Abbey.
The story of the murder of Sir Edmundbury
Godfrey has been often told; but as it belongs
specially to the spot which we are now visiting, it
shall be told here once more, in the words of
Pennant:—"The infamous witnesses against his
supposed murderers declared that he was waylaid,
and inveigled into the palace under pretence of
keeping the peace between two servants who were
fighting in the yard: that he was there strangled,
his neck broke, and his own sword run through
his body; that he was kept four days before they
ventured to remove him; at length his corpse was
first carried in a sedan-chair to Soho, and then on
a horse to Primrose Hill, between Kilburn and
Hampstead. There it certainly was found, transfixed with the sword, and his money in his pocket,
and his rings on his fingers. The murder, therefore, was not by robbers, but the effect of private
revenge. But it is not probable that it was committed within these walls; for the assassins would
never have hazarded a discovery by carrying the
corpse three miles, when they could have so safely
disposed of it into the Thames. The abandoned
characters of the evidences, Prance and Bedloe,
(the former of whom had been treated with most
horrid cruelties to compel him to confess what he
declared he never was guilty of), together with the
absurd and irreconcilable testimony they gave on
the trial, has made unprejudiced times to doubt
the whole. That he was murdered there is no
doubt; he had been an active magistrate, and had
made many enemies. The marks of strangling
round his throat, and his broken neck, evince the
impossibility of his having put an end to his own
existence, as some have insinuated. But the
innocence of the three poor convicts would not
avail, the torrent of prejudice prevailing against
them; and they were executed, denying the facts
in the moment of death. One was a Protestant,
the other two Roman Catholics, and belonging to
the Chapel; so probably were fixed on by the
instigators of the accusation in order to involve
the queen in the uncharitable suspicion."
This tragedy became at the time the subject of
several medals. On one is the bust of Sir Edmundbury and two hands strangling him; on the reverse
the Pope giving his benediction to a man strangling
another on the ground. On a second, with the
same bust, is the representation of the carrying the
magistrate on horseback to Primrose Hill. A
third makes him walking with his broken neck,
and sword buried in his body; and on the reverse
St. Denis with his head in his hand, with this
inscription:—
"Godfrey walks up-hill after he was dead;
Denis walks down-hill carrying his head."
The churchyard contains also the bones of the
notorious highwayman, Jack Sheppard. Here, too,
lies buried the once famous sculptor, Roubilliac;
also the witty, but somewhat licentious, dramatist,
Farquhar, author of the Beau's Stratagem. Here
likewise lies John Hunter, the distinguished anatomist, of whom we have spoken in our account of
the museum of the Royal College of Surgeons; as
also does the illustrious philosopher, Robert Boyle.
Here, too, were buried Sir Theodore Mayerne,
Court physician, and the friend of Vandyke; and
also Nell Gwynne, whose funeral sermon was
preached by Dr. Tenison, incumbent of the parish,
and afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury.
The flat pavement on the southern side of the
church, facing the "Golden Cross," is called "the
Watermen's Burying-ground," from the number of
old Thames watermen who were brought thither to
their last long rest from Hungerford, York, and
Whitehall Stairs.
The rate-books of this parish, which (says Mr.
Cunningham) are arranged sheet by sheet, after
the manner of a Post Office directory, contain the
name of every householder in the parish, from the
levying of the first poor-law rate, in the reign of
Elizabeth, down to the present time, and the church
registers are admirably kept. The rate-books help
us to identify the dwellings of very many distinguished persons in the last century.
A curious story about this church is told by
Evelyn in his "Diary," under date Good Friday,
1687. "Dr. Tenison preached at St. Martin's.
… During the service a man came into neere
the middle of the church with his sword drawne,
with severall others in that posture: in this jealous
time it put the congregation into greate confusion;
but it appeared to be one who fled for sanctuary,
being pursued by bayliffs."
Mr. Malcolm records an event of a somewhat
similar nature which occured in this church on the
10th of September, 1729. During evening prayers
a gentleman abruptly entered, and fired two pistols
at the Rev. Mr. Taylor, who was repeating the
service; one of the bullets grazed the surplice, but
the other entered the body of Mr. Williams, farrier,
of Bedfordbury, who was sitting in a pew near the
minister. The congregation fled in alarm from the
church, but a sturdy carman resolutely proceeded
to secure the offender, which he could not effect
without a severe encounter, and much bruising
him, particularly on the head. On his examination it was found that this man, named Roger
Campaznol, was the son of the Governor of Brest,
in France; that having been cheated by his landlord, a Huguenot, resident near the Seven Dials,
of £138, his mind became deranged, so that he
was unable to distinguish the victim of his revenge.
After his committal to Newgate he made two or
three attempts to commit suicide.
In St. Martin's Place, near the church, are the
offices of the Royal Society of Literature, and of
the Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and
Ireland. The Royal Society of Literature was
instituted in 1820, and received the royal charter
in 1826. It originated in an accidental conversation between Dr. Burgess—afterwards Bishop of
St. David's and of Salisbury—and an eminent
personage connected with the royal household, in
October, 1820, respecting the various institutions
which adorn the British nation. It was agreed
that a society seemed to be wanting for the encouragement and promotion of general literature;
and that if a society somewhat resembling the
French Academy of Belles Lettres could be established it might be productive of great advantage
to the cause of knowledge. The suggestion was
communicated to Sir Benjamin Bloomfield, and by
him was mentioned to the king, to whom he had been
private secretary during the regency. His Majesty
having expressed his approbation, a general outline
of the institution was, by command, submitted to
the royal perusal. The Bishop of St. David's was
shortly afterwards summoned to Carlton House for
the purpose of devising the best mode of giving
effect to the undertaking, and was entrusted with a
full commission to arrange the plan of the society.
He accordingly invited a few of his personal friends
to assist him, and for some time they had frequent
conferences on the subject. Their first meeting
took place on the 10th of November, and the title
proposed for the Society was "Royal Society of
Literature for the Encouragement of Indigent
Merit, and the Promotion of General Literature;"
but at a subsequent meeting the objectionable
words in this title were expunged, and the title
then stood "Royal Society for the Encouragement
of Literature." In order to give signs of public
life in the Society, a part of the proposed plan was
immediately acted on—namely, the offer of prizes
for the following subjects:—
1. For the King's Premium, one hundred
guineas: "On the age, writings, and genius of
Homer; and on the state of religion, society,
learning, and the arts during that period. Collected from the writings of Homer."
2. For the Society's Premium, fifty guineas:
"Dartmoor; a poem."
3. For the Society's Premium, twenty-five
guineas: "On the History of the Greek Language,
and the present language of Greece, especially in
the Ionian Islands; and on the difference between
ancient and modern Greek." This premium was
subsequently increased to fifty guineas, and another
of the like sum was proposed for the best poem
on "The Fall of Constantinople in the Fifteenth
Century."
The first prize awarded by the Society was for
the second premium, for which five candidates
appeared. Their productions were referred to a
sub-committee, who adjudged the prize to the
writer of the poem bearing the motto "Come,
bright Improvement," which was found to be
written by Felicia Hemans.
Among the first members of the Society were
the king, two of the royal dukes, several of the
bishops, and many other distinguished persons.
In its early stages the Society met with some
opposition in different quarters; but by the middle
of the year 1823, the constitution and regulations
were completed and submitted to the king, and
were finally approved of under the royal signmanual. Stability and importance were given to
the Society by a royal charter granted in the sixth
year of George IV. in these terms:—"To our
right trusty and well-beloved Thomas, by Divine
permission Bishop of Salisbury, (fn. 1) and others of
our loving subjects who have, under our royal
patronage, formed themselves into a Society for the
advancement of literature, by the publication of
unedited remains of ancient literature, and of such
works as may be of great intrinsic value, but not of
that popular character which usually claims the
attention of publishers; by the promotion of discoveries in literature; by endeavouring to fix the
standard, as far as practicable, and to preserve the
purity of the English language, by the critical improvement of English lexicography; by the reading
at public meetings of interesting papers on history,
philosophy, poetry, philology, and the arts, and
the publication of such of those papers as shall
be approved of; by the assigning of honorary
rewards to works of great literary merit, and to important discoveries in literature; and by establishing a correspondence with learned men in foreign
countries for the purpose of literary inquiry and
information."
In 1826 George IV. made a grant to the Society
of the Crown land opposite St. Martin's Church,
and the leading and official members voluntarily
subscribed £4,300 as a building-fund, with which
they erected their present place of meeting. In
1828 the Society adopted the publications of the
Egyptian Society, and has since contributed some
important researches on the antiquities of Egypt.
For rewarding literary men the royal founder
enabled the Society to act with princely liberality,
by placing at its disposal 1,100 guineas a year, "to
be bestowed on the Associates for life, to be elected
by the officers and council, each to receive 100
guineas per annum; and the remaining 100 guineas
to be expended on two gold medals, to be bestowed
annually upon individuals whose literary merits
entitled them to the honour."
In connection with the above gift of 1,100
guineas by the king, Mr. Harford, in his "Life of
Dr. Burgess, Bishop of Salisbury" (1840), relates
the following anecdote:—"It is a curious fact,
which his majesty, George IV., himself mentioned
with a smile to the present Dean of Salisbury (Dr.
Pearson) that the Bishop, from a misconception of
his meaning, at their first interview, committed the
king as an annual subscriber of £1,000—a sum
which he had intended only as a donation to the
Society at its outset, while his annual subscription
was to have been limited to £100. As, however,
his lordship, in his zeal, had immediately proclaimed the king's munificence, and Fame, through
the medium of the press, had almost as quickly
trumpeted it with her hundred tongues throughout
the country, there was no retreat; and the king not
only cheerfully acquiesced, but amused himself with
the incident." On the death of George IV., in
1830, this gratifying bequest ceased.
A valuable library has been formed, and greatly
enriched by the lexicographical and antiquarian
publications presented by Mr. Todd, and by papers
read at meetings, and furnished by many of the
most eminent writers of the age. Several quarto
volumes have been issued.
Admission to the Royal Society of Literature is
obtained by a certificate, signed by three members,
and an election by ballot. Ordinary members
pay three guineas on admission, and two guineas
annually, or compound by a payment of twenty
guineas. At the meetings of this Society papers
are read by learned men, English and foreigners.
The Society, however, incurred considerable ridiculc
by having admitted a certain M. Cosprons, a few
years since, to read a paper, as a French savant,
under the assumed title of "M. le Duc de Rousillon." The mistake was soon found out, and the
"illustrious" soi-disant duke was never asked to
read a second paper.
The Anthropological Institute of Great Britain
and Ireland, whose rooms are in the same building
as the above Society, was established in 1863, for
the purpose of promoting the study of anthropology
in a strictly scientific manner. The annual subscription is two guineas, and a life-membership
twenty guineas. There is a small but interesting
museum, and the publications of the Society are
presented to the members. Sir John Lubbock,
Bart., is President of this Society.
In St. Martin's Place are likewise the offices of
the Friend of the Clergy Corporation, an institution, under the patronage of the Prince of Wales,
"for allowing pensions, not exceeding £40 per
annum, to the widows and orphan unmarried
daughters of clergymen of the Established Church,
and for affording temporary assistance to necessitous clergymen and their families."
St. Martin's Place is worthy of note as having
been, during the Franco-Prussian War, the headquarters of the National Society for Aiding the Sick
and Wounded, which was founded at a meeting of
the English Langue of the Order of St. John held
here in July, 1870. During the year and a half of
that terrible struggle this Society sent abroad to
Germany and France, in nearly equal proportions,
money and stores—such as lint, bandages, wine,
and surgical appliances—to the value of about
half a million, earning thereby the hearty thanks of
both the belligerent nations. After the termination
of the European struggle the Society resolved not
to disband itself, but to continue en permanence, so
as to be ready for action in case of the outbreak of
another war. Its offices, however, are transferred
to Craven Street, Strand.
In Castle Street, at the back of the National
Gallery, a library was founded by Dr. Tenison—afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury—in the year
1685, for the use of his school, over which it was
placed. In 1697, the doctor, who was then vicar
of St. Martin's, gave £1,000 towards a fund for
the maintenance of his school, and afterwards, by
the consent of Dr. Patrick, Bishop of Ely, another
sum of £500 which had been left to them jointly,
in trust, to be disposed of in charitable uses; these
two sums, together with the leasehold messuages,
for the term of forty years, he vested in trustees,
for the support of his school and library. Out of
the profits of these investments the librarian and
masters have an annual salary for teaching thirty
boys, sons of the inhabitants of St. Martin's
parish.
This institution was at first situated in Castle
Street, at the back of the Mews, which, as we
have already shown, afterwards gave place to the
National Gallery. Here it stood down to the
year 1872, when it was removed and re-opened
in Leicester Square.

WEST VIEW OF THE OLD CHURCH OF ST. MARTIN'S-IN-THE-FIELDS; PULLED DOWN IN 1721.
(From a Print published by J. T. Smith in 1808.)
The original design of the founder was to supply
the clergy and studious persons of Westminster
with a place of retirement and study. "He told
me," says Evelyn ("Diary," Feb. 15, 1684), "there
were thirty or forty young men in orders in his
parish, either governors to young gentlemen, or
chaplains to noblemen, who, being reproved by
him on occasion for frequenting taverns or coffeehouses, told him they would study or employ their
time better if they had books. This put the pious
Doctor on this design." On the 23rd Evelyn
again writes, "Afterwards I went with Sir Christopher Wren to Dr. Tenison, when we made the
drawing and estimate of the expense of the library
to be began the next spring near the Mews."
The library is not by any means confined to
theological subjects, but comprises works of general
literature. Amongst the 5,000 volumes of the
ordinary staple from which libraries were formed a
century and a half ago, are some MSS. of great
interest. The library contains a beautiful Sarum
Missal of the thirteenth century, and a magnificently illuminated Psalter of a little earlier period.
But the gems of the collection, perhaps, are the
"Psychomachia of Prudentius," and the "Versarium of Fortunatus," both apparently of the tenth
century.
By a series of misfortunes this institution, it
appears, had been reduced, of late years, to the
last stage of decay. Its slender endowment was
almost entirely lost in the South Sea Bubble, and
its resources failed altogether on the expiration of
a lease, the remainder of which has been taken by
the Commissioners of Woods and Forests for the
improvement of Charing Cross. There were in
the end no means of providing salaries for the
officers or for any of the expenses incidental to the
maintenance of a library, and the fate of an institution which ought to be interesting to all lovers of
literature came to be regarded with apprehension
and anxiety.

ST. MARTIN'S LANE, 1820.
For many years the trustees permitted a society
of subscribing members to hold its meetings, to
play at chess, and read newspapers in the readingroom; and thus a sort of club or mechanics'
institute came to hold its meetings in Archbishop
Tenison's Library, and a list of lectures was posted
outside the door. A portion even of the shelves
of the old library had been appropriated to the
books of the new society; and if clergymen and
"studious persons," more especially intended by
the founder, had resorted to Tenison's Library
for purposes of study, they would soon have
given up the attempt in despair. A late eminent
bookseller bore the following testimony as to the
state of the original library a few years previous
to its removal, in 1872, to its new quarters:—"The books and manuscripts in the library are
many of them of great curiosity, rarity, and value,
but have suffered injury from dust and neglect;
were they properly cleaned and repaired, and the
room made comfortable to readers, it would, in my
opinion, be much frequented, and accessions be
made to the library in the way of books presented." The original intention of the founder
having thus been withheld, the interest of the
parishioners and others in this library gradually
decreased, and it at length became scarcely at all
frequented on its own account. The place had
altogether a forlorn and miserable appearance;
its volumes buried in dust and exposed to the
vicissitudes of heat and damp, so that one would
be painfully reminded of the day when, under the
auspices of the three illustrious men mentioned
above, the building was planned, and of the goodly
show which Strype tells us the books with their
"gilt backs" made in his time.
The Rev. P. Hale, the librarian, some time ago
issued a "Plea for Archbishop Tenison's Library,"
in which he remarked:—"It seems to be a moral
law that every institution, in spite of the care and
munificence of its founder, should fall short of his
aim, in order to give room for the vigilance and
charity of his successor."
Attention to the subject having been thus
awakened, those most deeply interested in the
preservation of the library soon began to exert
themselves; a new building was erected in Leicester
Square, and in 1872 the institution was removed
thither, where it is hoped a new and more prosperous career is in store for the Tenison Library.
On the west side of St. Martin's Lane, near
Long Acre, is Aldridge's Horse Repository—a
middle-class "Tattersall's"—established in 1753,
where about 240 horses are sold weekly.
In Castle Street, Upper St. Martin's Lane, nearly
opposite Aldridge's Horse Repository, is the
"Artizan's Institute for Promoting General and
Technical Knowledge." This institute was established in October, 1874, for the purpose of
assisting skilled workmen to pursue the study of
history, political economy, moral philosophy,
literature, science and art (including mathematics,
physiology, chemistry, drawing, &c.), and foreign
languages; also for enabling apprentices and
others to complete their technical education, with
a special view to the manipulative department of
their various trades. Lectures, classes, discussions,
reading and conversation meetings, and a library,
are the means employed. The chief object of the
institute is to provide interesting and useful mental
occupation for the members every night of the
week, in the shape of solid instruction, rational
and elevating recreation, or stimulating interchange
of ideas.
Newton tells us, in his "London in the Olden
Time," that nearly at the end of the Strand a
country lane, without habitations, ran northwards
between the fields up to St. Giles's hospital. "A
small chapel or oratory," he adds, "we know not of
what antiquity, stood in the thirteenth century by
the east side of this lane in the fields, about a
hundred yards from the highway of the Strand."
He considers it probable that this chapel was
saved by the monks of St. Peter's Abbey, to whom
the land about the neighbourhood belonged, and
who "bestowed their benedictions on, and collected
halfpennies from the pilgrims and travellers passing
to and from the north country and the City of
Westminster."
This country road, which first obtained the
name of St. Martin's Lane about the reign of
Charles I., was bounded on the eastern side by the
wall of the Convent Garden, and opened into the
"Cock and Pie Fields," so called from a house of
that name where cakes and ale were sold.
At the bottom of St. Martin's Lane was a nest or
rookery of narrow lanes and streets, which rejoiced
in slang names, such as "Porridge Island," "The
Bermudas," and the "Straits of the Strand." The
names in course of time became classical, being
constantly imported into the comedies of the time
by Ben Jonson and other authors. From the
allusions to them which occur, it is clear that they
were occupied by a low lot of inhabitants, who
indulged in gin, ale, and fighting. Porridge Island,
especially, was filled with second-rate cook-shops.
In the World, of November 29th, 1753, we find
an allusion to "a fine gentleman whose lodgings
no one is acquainted with," as having his dinner
"served up under cover of a pewter-plate from the
cook-shops in Porridge Island." The greater part
of this rookery was swept away about the year
1830, but a considerable portion of the low courts
remain about Bedfordbury.
Many of the houses in St. Martin's Lane have
historic and artistic associations, which carry us
back to the days of George II. and the early part
of the reign of George III. Thus, for instance,
Mr. Peter Cunningham informs us that "in a
great room on the west side, nearly opposite old
'Slaughter's,' N. Home, the painter, exhibited in
1775 his celebrated 'Conjurer,' intended as a satire
on the way in which Sir Joshua Reynolds composed his pictures; and in Cecil Court, in the
following year, was born Abraham Raimbach, the
engraver."
Smith, too, tells us in his "Nollekens," that the
house No. 96, on the west side, " has a large staircase, curiously painted, of figures viewing a procession, which was executed for the famous Dr.
Misaubin, about the year 1732, by a painter named
Clermont, a Frenchman. Behind the house there
is a large room, the inside of which is given by
Hogarth in his 'Rake's Progress,' where he has
introduced portraits of the doctor and his Irish
wife."
St. Martin's Lane, if we except a few houses on
the eastern side, at the end near to St. Martin's
Church, was built between the years 1610 and
1615. Up to that time it was apparently a really
green country lane, known as West Church Lane,
with scarcely a single cottage all the way up to St.
Giles's. A little before that date we read that Sir
Hugh Platt, the most scientific horticulturist of his
age, had a garden in St. Martin's Lane. Among
its most distinguished inhabitants in its early days
were Sir John Suckling, the poet, Sir Kenelm
Digby, and D. Mytens, the painter. Here, too,
lived at one time the celebrated Earl of Shaftesbury, Dr. (afterwards Archbishop) Thomas Tenison,
whilst he was the Vicar of St. Martin's, and the
Whig poet Ambrose Philips. In this street, too,
nearly opposite where now are May's Buildings,
lived Sir Joshua Reynolds when he first came as a
young man to London; and Sir James Thornhill,
who established at the back of his house the artists'
school, out of which it is scarcely an exaggeration
to say that the Royal Academy took its beginning.
Fuseli and Roubilliac, too, in their day had studies
here; and those artists who did not actually live
in the lane, used to frequent it of an evening,
repairing as visitors to "Slaughter's Coffee-house,"
their accustomed haunt. Here Hogarth was a
constant visitor, stepping round from his quarters
hard by in Leicester Square; and many of the
larger houses, if they have not been tenanted by
artists, have been the haunts and homes of extensive picture-dealers.
Allan Cunningham tells us that Roubilliac's first
studio was in Peter's Court in this lane, a favourite
haunt of artists; "the room," he adds, "has been
since pulled down and rebuilt, and its site is now
occupied as a meeting-house by the Society of
Friends." Roubilliac afterwards removed to a
larger studio on the western side of the street,
where he died in 1762.
"At the south-west corner of this lane," writes
Stow, "there was one house wherein sometimes
were distraught and lunatic people; of what
antiquity founded, or by whom, I have not heard;
neither of its suppression. But it is said that
some time a king of England, not liking such a
kind of people to remain so near his palace, caused
them to be removed further off to Bethlehem,
without Bishopsgate; and to that hospital the said
house by Charing Cross doth yet remain." The
upper part of St. Martin's Lane was originally
termed the Terrace, implying probably that it consisted of a number of larger and more imposing
edifices built at one time.
Ben Jonson was born in Hartshorn Lane, near
Northumberland House, Charing Cross. We learn
this from Fuller, who says, "Though I cannot, with
all my industrious inquiry, find him in his cradle, yet
I can fetch him from his long coats. When a little
child he lived in Hartshorn Lane, Charing Cross,
when his mother married a bricklayer for her second
husband. He was first bred in a private school in
St. Martin's Court, then in Westminster School."
Such was St. Martin's Lane in the olden days,
before it had become the resort of loose characters,
among whom, in the words of Ben Jonson, "the
quarrelling lesson was read, and the seconds were
bottled ale and tobacco." For, to speak the truth,
St. Martin's parish would seem to have been
remarkable for tipplers. At all events, that trustworthy authority, the "London Spy," hints that
"the malt duty is nowhere better promoted than
in this part of the town."
It is to be feared that the narrow gorge by
which to the present day exit is made from St.
Martin's Lane into Trafalgar Square, is a standing
proof that two hundred years ago the "commissioners for reforming the buildings, ways, and
streets, and for regulating the hackney coaches in
London," did not do their duty quite as efficiently
as our present Metropolitan Board of Works. At
all events, John Evelyn tells us, in his "Diary,"
under date May 25th, 1662, that he and his brother
commissioners went from Scotland Yard to the
neighbourhood of St. Martin's Church, in order
"to view how St. Martin's Lane might be made
more passable into the Strand." We fear that,
although more than two centuries have passed away
since that time, the work has yet to be satisfactorily
achieved.