CHAPTER XI.

FLEET STREET.

St. Bride's Church - Persons Interred There

Salisbury Court

Anecdote of

Richardson, the Novelist - Gough Square Doctor Johnson-Johnson's Court and Bolt Court - Wineoffice Court-Anecdote of Goldsmith - Old Conduit in Fleet Street-Bangor House-Mitre Court - Crane Court -Devil Tavern, and Its Celebrated Frequenters - Residences of Eminent Men in Fleet Street - Chancery Lane - Shire Lane -Anecdote of Coleridge - Kit-Cat Club-St. Dunstan's Church - Its Old Dial.

DESCENDING Ludgate Hill, we enter Fleet Street, one of the most interesting thoroughfares in London. As we wend our way along this famous street, let us pause for a few moments to gaze on the graceful steeple of St. Bride's Church, which, with the exception of that of Bow Church, is unquestionably the most beautiful in London. St. Bride's, moreover, in addition to its architectural merits, recalls many interesting memories of the past. Here was interred Wynkyn de Worde, the famous printer in the reign of Henry the Seventh, whose father kept the Falcon Inn in Fleet Street. He himself lived in the street, as appears by his "Fruyte of Tymes," printed in

1515, which purports to be issued from his establishment at the "sygne of the Sonne," in Fleet Street. At the west end of St. Bride's Church was interred the ill-fated poet, Richard Lovelace, and here, also, rests another bard, whose hopes were once as ambitious, John Ogilby, the translator of Homer. Half hidden by one of the pews on the south side, is the gravestone of Richardson, the novelist; and here also lies buried Sir Richard Baker, author of the "Chronicle of the Kings of England," the story of whose melancholy end belongs to our notices of the Fleet Prison.

Nor are Ogilby, Lovelace, and Sir Richard Baker the only unfortunate authors who are interred in St. Bride's Church. Here also are buried Francis Sandford, author of the "Genealogical History," who died in the Fleet in 1693, and Robert Lloyd, the poet, who, in 1764, also died in that prison. Ogilby, Sandford, Richardson, and Lloyd were buried in the present edifice; as were also Thomas Flatman, the poet, who died in 1688, and Dr. Charles Davenant, the celebrated political writer of the reign of Queen Anne. In the churchyard of St. Bride's lie the remains of Dr. Robert Levet, the intimate friend of Doctor Johnson.

It may be worth mentioning that in St. Bride's Church was buried the abandoned Mary Frith, known as Moll Cutpurse, who, from the days of James the First to those of the Commonwealth, carried on the united professions of procuress,

fortune-teller, pickpocket, thief, and receiver of stolen goods. Her most famous exploit was robbing General Fairfax upon Hounslow Heath. Butler has immortalised her in his "Hudibras:

"He Trulla loved, Trulla more bright,
Than burnished armour of her knight;
A bold virago, stout and tall,

A Joan of France, or English Mall."

Swift likewise alludes to her in his "Baucis and Philemon : "

"The ballads pasted on the wall,

Of Joan of France, and English Mall."

Moll Cutpurse died of the dropsy in the seventyfifth year of her age, and was buried in St. Bride's on the 10th of August, 1659.

St. Bride's, or rather St. Bridget's Church, is unquestionably of very ancient foundation. Originally a structure of moderate dimensions, it was in the year 1480 considerably enlarged and beautified by William Venor, a pious warden of the Fleet Prison, who erected a spacious fabric at the west end, consisting of a middle and two side aisles, to which the ancient church served as the choir. The patronage of the living was for centuries vested in the Abbot and Convent of Westminster, till, at the dissolution of the monasteries, on Westminster being elevated into a bishopric, Henry the Eighth granted the preferment to the new diocesan. On the reinstatement of the Abbot and

monks of Westminster in the reign of Queen Mary, the patronage was restored to them, but it was afterward again made over to the Dean and Chapter of Westminster, by whom it is still enjoyed. The old church having been destroyed by the great fire of London, the present noble edifice was erected on its site by Sir Christopher Wren, at the expense of £11,430.

It was in St. Bride's Churchyard that Milton took up his residence after his return from Italy in 1642. Here it was that he superintended the education of his two nephews, John and Edward Philips, as well as that of a few other youths whose parents had prevailed upon him to take their children under his charge. It was also during the period of his residence in St. Bride's Churchyard that he formed his ill-assorted marriage with his first wife, Mary Powell. "His first wife," writes Aubrey, "was brought up and lived where there was a great deal of company, merriment, and dancing; and when she came to live with her husband at Mr. Russell's, in St. Bride's Churchyard, she found it very solitary; no company coming to her, and oftentimes hearing his nephews beaten and cry. This life was irksome to her so she went to her parents at Forest Hill. He sent for her after some time, and I think his servant was evilly treated; but, as for wronging his bed, I never heard the least suspicions, nor had he of that any jealousy."

On the same side of Fleet Street as St. Bride's Church is Salisbury Court, so called from the London residence of the Bishops of Salisbury, which anciently stood on its site. Here the great Lord Clarendon was residing for a short time after the Restoration. To the literary student the principal interest attached to Salisbury Square is from its having been the residence of Richardson, the author of "Pamela" and of "Sir Charles Grandison." Here he was visited by the most eminent literary men of the last century and here he was constantly surrounded by a bevy of ardent admirers, to whom he delighted in reading aloud the last effusions of his pen. "My first recollection of Richardson," writes a lady who knew him well, "was in the house in the centre of Salisbury Square, or Salisbury Court as it was then called; and of being admitted as a playful child into his study, where I have often seen Doctor Young and others, and where I was generally caressed and rewarded with biscuits, or bonbons, of some kind or other, and sometimes with books, for which he, and some more of my friends, kindly encouraged a taste, even at that early age, which has adhered to me all my long life, and continues to be the solace of many a painful hour. I recollect that he used to drop in at my father's, for we lived nearly opposite, late in the evening, to supper; when, as he would say, he had worked as long as his eyes and nerves would let him, and was come to relax with