The Fleet: Its Rivers, Prison, and Marriages. John Ashton
whilst the pediment of the statue was utilized as a camera obscura. I don't think they knew exactly what they were about, for one party wanted it to be called Boadicea's Cross, another went in for it being nationally named St. George's Cross; but the goodness of the late king was more popular, and carried the day, and we now enjoy the nominis umbra of King's Cross, instead of the old cognomen of Battle Bridge. It had a very brief existence. It was built between 1830 and 1835, and was demolished in 1845; the stucco statue only having been in situ for ten years. It is said that the nose of this regal statue had, for its base, an earthen draining tile, and that it was offered to a gentleman for sixpence!
There hardly seems to be any connection between "the first gentleman in Europe" and dustmen, but there is a slight link. Battle Bridge was peculiarly the home of the necessary dustman, and in a song called "The Literary Dustman," commencing—
"They call me Adam Bell, 'tis clear
That Adam vos the fust man,
And by a co-in-side-ance queer
Vy I'm the fust of dustmen,"
is the following verse:—
"Great sculptors all conwarse wi' me,
And call my taste divine, sirs,
King George's statty at King's Cross,
Vos built from my design, sirs."
Close by here, in Gray's Inn Road, was a mountain of refuse and dust; but it was as profitable as were the heaps of Mr. Boffin in Charles Dickens's "Our Mutual Friend." This mound once had a curious clearance, so it is said. It was bought in its entirety, and sent over to Russia, to help make bricks to rebuild Moscow; and the ground on which it stood was, in 1826, sold to a Company for £15,000.
DUST HEAP AT BATTLE BRIDGE.
"My dawning Genus fust did peep,
Near Battle Bridge,'tis plain, sirs:
You recollect the cinder heap,
Vot stood in Gray's Inn Lane, sirs?"
Let us turn to a sweeter subject, and gossip about St. Chad's Well, the site of which is now occupied by the Metropolitan Railway at King's Cross. St. Chad is a saint in the English calendar, and might have been a distinguished temperance leader, if the number of wells dedicated to him, is any criterion. He lived in the seventh century, and was educated at Lindisfarne (at least so Bede says), and afterwards became Bishop of Lichfield, and, at his death, his soul is said to have been accompanied to heaven by angels and sweet music.
A good modern account is given in Hone's "Every Day Book," vol. i. pp. 323, 4, 5, which, as it was taken from actual observation about fifty years since, may well be transcribed. Speaking of the aforesaid dust-heap he says:—
"Opposite to this unsightly site, and on the right hand side of the road, is an anglewise faded inscription—
"It stands, or rather dejects, over an elderly pair of wooden gates, one whereof opens on a scene which the unaccustomed eye may take for the pleasure-ground of Giant Despair. Trees stand as if made not to vegetate, clipped hedges seem unwilling to decline, and nameless weeds straggle weakly upon unlimited borders. If you look upwards you perceive, painted on an octagon board, 'Health restored and preserved.' Further on, towards the left, stands a low, old-fashioned, comfortable-looking, large-windowed dwelling, and, ten to one, but there also stands at the open door, an ancient ailing female, in a black bonnet, a clean, coloured cotton gown, and a check apron, her silver hair only in part tucked beneath the narrow border of a frilled cap, with a sedate and patient, yet somewhat inquiring look. She gratuitously tells you that 'the gardens' of 'St. Chad's Well' are for 'Circulation' by paying for the waters, of which you may drink as much, or as little, or nothing, as you please, at one guinea per year, 9s. 6d. quarterly, 4s. 6d. monthly, or 1s. 6d. weekly. You qualify for a single visit by paying sixpence, and a large glass tumbler, full of warm water, is handed to you. As a stranger, you are told, that 'St. Chad's Well was famous at one time.'
"Should you be inquisitive, the dame will instruct you, with an earnest eye, that 'people are not what they were,' 'things are not as they used to be,' and she 'can't tell what'll happen next.' Oracles have not ceased. While drinking St. Chad's water, you observe an immense copper, into which it is poured, wherein it is heated to due efficacy, and from whence it is drawn by a cock, into glasses. You also remark, hanging on the wall, a 'tribute of gratitude,' versified, and inscribed on vellum, beneath a pane of glass stained by the hand of time, and let into a black frame. This is an effusion for value received from St. Chad's invaluable water. But, above all, there is a full-sized portrait in oil, of a stout, comely personage, with a ruddy countenance, in a coat or cloak, supposed scarlet, a laced cravat falling down the breast, and a small red nightcap carelessly placed on the head, conveying the idea that it was painted for the likeness of some opulent butcher, who flourished in the reign of Queen Anne. Ask the dame about it, and she refers you to 'Rhone.' [20] This is a tall old man, who would be taller if he were not bent by years. 'I am ninety-four,' he will tell you, 'this present year of our Lord, one thousand, eight hundred, and twenty-five.' All that he has to communicate concerning the portrait is, 'I have heard say it is the portrait of St. Chad.' Should you venture to differ, he adds, 'this is the opinion of most people who come here.' You may gather that it is his own undoubted belief.
"On pacing the garden alleys, and peeping at the places of retirement, you imagine the whole may have been improved and beautified, for the last time, by some countryman of William III., who came over and died in the same year with that king, and whose works here, in wood and box, have been following him piecemeal ever since.
"St. Chad's Well is scarcely known in the neighbourhood save by its sign-board of invitation and forbidding externals; … it is haunted, not frequented. A few years, and it will be with its waters, as with the water of St. Pancras' Well, which is enclosed in the garden of a private house, near old St. Pancras Churchyard."
But, although the prophecy in "Hone" was destined to be fulfilled, yet it was twelve years before it came about, and it was not until September 14, 1837, that Messrs. Warlters and Co. sold, at Garraway's Coffee House, Change Alley, Cornhill, the "valuable Copyhold Property, situate in Gray's Inn Lane, near King's Cross, Battle Bridge," which consisted of "The well-known and valuable Premises, Dwelling-house, Large Garden, and Offices, with the very celebrated Spring of Saline Water called St. Chad's Well, which, in proper hands, would produce an inexhaustible Revenue, as its qualities are allowed by the first Physicians to be unequalled."
ST. CHAD'S WELL.
It was a good sized piece of ground; in shape of a somewhat irregular triangle, of which the base measured about 200 feet, and from apex to base 95 feet. It was Copyhold. The vendor was not to be asked for a title prior to 1793, and it was held of the Manor of Cantlowes or Cantlers, subject to a small fine, certain, of 6s. 8d., on death or alienation, and to a Quit Rent of 5d. per annum. We should say, nowadays, that the assessment was very small, as, including the large gardens, both back and front, the whole was only valued, including the Saline Spring, at £81 10s. per annum, of which £21 10s. was let off, but which formed but a small portion of the property.
What would not the waters of St. Chad's Well cure? Really I think the proprietor hardly knew himself, for a handbill I have before me commences—"The celebrity of these waters being confined chiefly to its own immediate vicinity for a number of years; the present proprietor has thought proper to give more extensive publicity to the existence of a nostrum provided by Nature, through Divine Providence, approaching nearest that great desideratum of scientific men and mankind in general, throughout