City Scenes.
OR
A PEEP INTO
LONDON.

LONDON
Published by Harvey & Darton

Gracechurch Street.
1828.

INTRODUCTION.

Come, peep at London’s famous town,
   Nor need you travel there;
But view the things of most renown,
   Whilst sitting in your chair.

At home, an hundred miles away,
   ’Tis easy now to look
At City Scenes, and London gay,
   In this my little book.

Yes, there in quiet you may sit,
   Beside the winter’s fire,
And see and hear as much of it,
   As ever you desire.

Or underneath the oak so grey,
   That stands upon the green,
May pass the summer’s eve away,
   And view each City Scene.

There’s great St. Paul’s, so wondrous wide,
   The Monument so tall,
And many curious things beside
   The Giants in Guildhall.

The post-boy galloping away,
   With letter-bag you’ll find:
The wharf, the ship, the lady gay,
   The beggar lame and blind.

The boatman plying at his oar,
   The gard’ner and his greens,
The knife-grinder, with many more
   Of London’s City Scenes.

CITY SCENES.

1.  Countryman on a Stage Coach.

Here is Farmer Clodpole, who lives a hundred miles from London, coming to see it at last.     They have just reached the top of a hill, and catch a fine view of the city.

“What! is that Lunnun, coachey?  Well, I’m glad to see it at last; for I, that’s only used to jog along a few miles in our cart, don’t much fancy this jumbling and jolting.  But what a smoke they are in, master coachman: I shall be glad enough to get back again, if I am always to be in such a puther.  Pray, what’s that there great round thing in the midst of the housen?  Oh! St. Paul’s: why that beats our parish church all to pieces.  Well, drive away, coachey, that I may see all the fine things; and nobody shall laugh at me any more, because I have not seen Lunnun.”

2.  The Monument.

There is the Monument: it is situated on the east side of Fish Street Hill, and is the highest column in the world.  It was erected in remembrance of the great fire of London, which broke out in Pudding Lane, very near Fish-Street Hill, destroying all the buildings from Tower Wharf in the east, to Temple church in the west; and from the north end of Mincing Lane, to the west end of Leadenhall Street; passing to Threadneedle Street, thence in a direct line to Holborn Bridge, and extending northward to Smithfield, when, after having burnt down thirteen thousand and two hundred houses, it terminated.

At that time provisions were very cheap, and many people eat to the full; so that gluttony was alleged by some as the cause of the fire; it beginning, as they said, at Pudding Lane, and ending at Pie Corner, which was the case.

The Monument is a very fine pillar, 202 feet high, having a staircase leading to the gallery, from which, on a clear day, beautiful views of the city and surrounding country may be seen.

By the inscription on the Monument, the Roman Catholics are accused of “burning this Protestant city;” but Pope, the poet, was of a different opinion, for he says,

“London’s high column, pointing to the skies,
Like a tall bully, lifts its head and lies.”

3.  Pie Corner,

West Smithfield, where you see the white projecting house, as it was left after the fire of London, which took place at midnight, 2d September, 1666, and burnt with unabated fury till the 10th of the same month.

There is also, at the corner of the lane, against a public house called the Fortune of War, a figure of a boy carved in wood, on which was painted an inscription to commemorate the event, and also stating the calamity to have been a punishment on the city for the sin of gluttony; but this being since considered a vulgar error, is not painted on the new figure, which in other respects is exactly like the old figure first put up.

4.  New London Bridge.

The new London Bridge is built from a design of the late John Rennie, Esq. engineer; and the works are conducted under the direction of John and George Rennie, Esqrs.  It stands a short distance westward of the old bridge.  The first stone was laid by John Garratt, Esq. lord mayor, on the 15th of June, 1825.

This bridge consists of five arches: the centre one is 150, those next to it 140 feet, the extreme arches 130 feet.  The roadway is nearly level, and the parapet is plain, with buttresses rising from the piers,

5.  Billingsgate,

The only fish-market in London, to which the fishing-smacks bring their cargoes.  Whoever goes to Billingsgate, at market-time, must expect to be pushed about and dirtied.  The crowd is generally very great, and the people very noisy, and some are quite abusive to strangers.

There goes a tall fish-woman sounding her cry,
“Who’ll buy my fine flounders, and oysters who’ll buy?”
Poor flounder, he heaves up his fin with a sigh,
And thinks that he has most occasion to cry;
“Ah, neighbour,” says oyster, “indeed, so do I.”

It is supposed that more money is taken at this place for shell-fish, in a year, than there is at Smithfield for butchers’ meat in