A short distance hence is Stanley Place, a double row ofgenteel residences; at the head of which, within that ponderous gateway, is the oldLinen Hall, once the great mart for Irish linens, but of late, owing to the decay of that branch of trade, consecrated to the sale of the famed Cheshire cheese. What! have you never yet tasted a bit of “prime old Cheshire?” Let us recommend you then to do so, on your return to the Inn; and if your fancy does not gloat over it for a month or two to come, our belief in yourgood tastewill be considerably modified.
“Onward!” is again the word, and ascending a short incline, we find ourselves on the top of another of the four great Gates of the city. We are now exactly opposite to where we set out, and have, therefore, at least half completed our circuit of the city. The West, or as it is more usually termed, theWater Gate(from the Dee having originally flowed up to its portals), is like the East and North Gates, a modern structure, having replaced the old and unsightly archway in 1789, as appears by an inscription on the west side. The custody of Chester Gates was at one time a privilege much courted by the high and mighty in the land. Thus the sergeantship of the East Gate has belonged since the time of Edward I. to the ancestors of the present Lord Crewe, of Crewe; the North Gate during that period has been in charge of the citizens; the Water Gate, on which we are now standing, in custody of the Stanleys, Earls of Derby; while the Bridge Gate, to which we shall presently come, belonged to the Earls of Shrewsbury, inheriting from their ancestors, the Troutbecks and Rabys, sergeants thereof in the fourteenth century. Below us lies a plain of sweetest verdure and most inviting beauty; and by way of diversifying our subject, we will now step down from the Gate and Walls, and find ourselves, in another chapter, treading the green sward of the old Roodeye.
The Walls, continued.—The Roodeye.—Chester Races.—The Castle of the Olden Time, and the Castle of To-day.—The Grosvenor Bridge.—Cæsar’s Tower.—Handbridge and Edgar’s Cave.—Bridgegate.—Dee Mills and Bridge.—Causeway.—Queen’s Park and Wishing Steps.—The Newgate and its Traditions.—The East Gate.
Well, here we are, on a beautiful meadow, eighty-four acres in extent, clad in Nature’s own mantle of brightest green, and bearing the euphonious name of theRoodeye. This splendid pasture, now so cheerful to look upon, has not always worn the same gay aspect. In ages past and gone—when the Saxon and the Norman held sway over the land—when colossal Liverpool was but a simple fishing-hamlet—the infant commerce of England was borne along the surging billows of the Dee, up to the very Walls of Chester. In those days the spacious lawn before us was covered with water at every tide, save only a bank or eye of land near the centre, which being surmounted by a plain substantial stone cross, acquired the name of theRoodeye, or theIsland of the Cross. Are you fond of legends?—Here then is one that may gratify your taste.
Once upon a time (you must not askwhen) the Christians of Hawarden, a few miles down the river, were in a sad strait for lack of rain. Now it so happened that in the church of that place there stood an image of the Virgin Mary, called Holy Rood. To her shrine then repaired the faithful and fearful of all classes to pray for rain. Among the rest, Lady Trawst, the wife of the governor of Hawarden, prayed so heartily and so long, that the image, grown desperate we suppose, fell down upon the lady and killed her. Mad with rage at this “answer to their prayers,” a jury of the inhabitants was summoned, and the Holy Rood summarily convicted of wilful murder and other heinous sins. Fearful, however, of the consequences if they executed the offender, the jury determined to lay her upon the beach at low water; whence the next tide carried her away to the spot where she was found,under the Walls of Chester. The citizens held apost-mortemexamination, and seeing that she wasHoly Rood, decided on burying her where she was found, and erected over her a simple stone Cross, which, tradition says, once bore an inscription to the following effect:
The Jews their God did crucify,The Hardeners theirs did drown:Because their wants she’d not supply,—And she lies under this cold stone.
The Jews their God did crucify,The Hardeners theirs did drown:Because their wants she’d not supply,—And she lies under this cold stone.
Another version affirms she was carried toSt. John’s Church, and there set up in great pomp, and that this Cross was erected on the spot where she was found.
So much for the legend: yonder is the remnant of the Cross under which her holiness was laid; and as
Little she’ll reck, if they’ll let her sleep on,We will leave her alone in her glory.
Little she’ll reck, if they’ll let her sleep on,We will leave her alone in her glory.
The spot now marks the boundary of St. Mary’s parish. The athletic sports and Olympian games of the Romans, the military displays of the Edwards and Henries, the pageants and plays of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, were each in their day “set forth” on the Roodeye before hundreds of wondering and admiring citizens. And it is pretty much the same “even in this our day;” for martial reviews and rejoicings, cricket and other athletic games are all celebrated and fostered on its rich green sward.
Why, it was only the other day, on the 2nd of April, 1856, that the rank and beauty of the county (and that beauty does reign dominant in Cheshire all the world knows) assembled on theRoodeyeto witness a grand and exciting ceremonial. For two years war had been convulsing Europe; Turkey the weak had been marked out for a prey by Russia the strong; the Eagle of the North would have trampled on the Crescent, and have blotted out its name from the catalogue of nations. But the British lion looked on from afar,—the champion of the weak girded on its ancient strength,—and with the aid of France, once its enemy, but now a gallant ally, went forth to the rescue. The result is patent to the world. In two short years the pride of the despot has been humbled, and the freedom of his almost victim assured, while Peace once again spreads its mantle over the earth. The militia of England formed the nursery at home for the armyabroad; and the militia of Cheshire in particular responded nobly to the repeated demands of their country. No wonder, then, that the Roodeye was so crowded and gay on the occasion in question,—that so many desired to witness the presentation of new banners to the gallant 1st Regiment of Royal Cheshire Militia. The Marchioness of Westminster, as the representative of the Lord Lieutenant, presented the colours, which were first duly consecrated by the amiable Bishop of the diocese.Wewere present at the ceremony; and, as the ensigns of the regiment received their handsome banners, and unfurled them to the breeze, we felt a glow of pride upon our cheek that the ancient chivalry of Cheshire still animated her loyal sons. England has once more had to learn, and will surely not this time forget the lesson, that “the only way to be certain of peace, is to be at all times amply prepared for war.”
Grand Stand, and Water Gate
But the Roodeye is perhaps chiefly famous for the splendid horse Races which are twice a-year held here; and while the courseitself is a perfect amphitheatre, and the spectator’s view of the contests magnificent and unbroken, it is not too much to say, that the fame ofChester Racesis a household word with every true lover of old English sports. Our illustration presents to us a view of the handsomeGrand Stand, with the Walls and Water Gate on the left; but for a more general view of the entire race-course, we may profitably refer to the frontispiece at the commencement of ourGuide. The viaduct on the extreme left is, with the girder-bridge over the Dee, the iron road of communication between England and Ireland; while beyond it, again, lies the “Port of Chester;” as also theRoodeye Gas Works,Workhouse, and last, not least, the iron shipbuilding yard, conducted by Mr. Cram, of this city.
We will now return to theWalls, noticing as we pass through the Water Gate, to the right, the remains of the wall of theBlack Friars’ Monastery. Proceeding southward a short distance, we arrive at a field, on the left hand, in which formerly stood the BenedictineNunnery of St. Mary. Within living memory, portions of this conventual establishment were visible from the Walls, but all traces thereof are now unfortunately obliterated. We have here a pretty close view of theCastle,Savings Bank, andSt. Bridget’s Church; but as we have now arrived at the New, or Grosvenor Road, we will approach still nearer, and while surveying and admiring the Castle of the present, ruminate a little on the Castle of past days.
When Chester Castle was first erected, whether during the British, Roman or Saxon occupation, is a problem likely never to be determined. There can be no question, however, that it existed some time previous to the Norman Conquest; for it was the chosen court and camp of Hugh Lupus the Norman, nephew of the Conqueror, and is stated by Camden to have been merelyrepairedby that powerful baron. On the death of the last Norman Earl, the Castle passed into the hands of the king (Henry III.).
“Henry of Lancaster, (afterwards Henry IV.) having taken up arms against Richard II., in 1399, mustered his army upon the banks of the Dee, under the Walls of Chester, and Sir Piers Legh of Lyme, an adherent of Richard, was beheaded, and his head set upon the top of the highest tower in the Castle. A few days afterwards, the unfortunate Richard and the Earl of Salisbury were brought prisoners to Chester, mounted (says Hall) ‘upon two little nagges, not worth forty francs,’ when the King was delivered ‘to theDuke of Gloucester’s sonne and the Earle of Arundell’s sonne, that loved him but a little, for he had put their fathers to death, who led him strait to the Castell.’
“In 1403, Henry Percy, the renowned Hotspur, visited Chester, on his way to the fatal field of Shrewsbury, and caused proclamation to be made, that King Richard was yet alive, and a prisoner in Chester Castle, where he might be seen.
“Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester, wife of theGood Duke Humphrey, was confined for several months in Chester Castle, in 1447, previous to her removal to the Isle of Man, under a sentence of perpetual imprisonment on a charge of ‘practising the King’s death.’
“Here, in 1651, the Puritans ‘sought the Lord’ by trying and condemning to death the gallant and patriotic Earl of Derby, Sir Timothy Featherstonehaugh, and Captain Benbow. According to Whitlocke, the Earl ‘attempted to escape, and was let down by a rope from the leads of his chamber; but some hearing a noise, made after him, and he was re-taken upon Dee bank.’ He was afterwards beheaded at Bolton, while Featherstonehaugh was shot in the market-place of Chester.”
And now for the Castle of the present day. The old structure was removed towards the close of the eighteenth century, and the new one erected from the plans of the late Thomas Harrison, Esq., the architect of the Grosvenor Bridge.
TheGrand Entranceoccupies the centre of a semicircular fosse, and is of the Grecian Doric order. The whole of the majestic fluted columns of this Gateway and of the Shire Hall, are constructed each, from capital to base, of a single stone. As we pass into theCastle Yard, we have at one view a fine prospect of this noble square.
“The two wings of the Castle, and the whole of the buildings to the right, are appropriated to the military; the centre to the Assize Court and County Gaol. The right wing is the officer’s barracks. There are at present in this Castle, a regiment of militia, and a battalion of artillery. The pensioners’ offices are at the back of the left wing, at one side of which is the Nisi Prius Court, Grand Jury Room, &c.
“The first floor of the new barracks on the higher wards is appropriated to theArmoury, which contains 30,000 stand of arms, and is decorated with various devices, formed solely of weapons of warfare.
“Near these buildings is an old Square Tower, calledJuliusCæsar’s, otherwiseJulius Agricola’s Tower, in which was situated theChantry of St. Mary infra Castrum. It was in this Chapel that James II. received Mass during his stay in Chester. This Tower was built soon after the Norman Conquest. There was an ancient fresco painting on the interior walls, the subject of which was Moses receiving the Table of Commandments from the Mount, whilst the Devil in a nondescript form is trying to seize them; in the back-ground are his old friendsthe Pope, and a group of ecclesiastical personages. This Tower was newly cased with red stone in 1818. The Powder Magazine is at present kept in it.” Close by stood, prior to its demolition, the ancient Shire Hall and Exchequer Court: the latter was the parliament house of the palatinate earls, and had neat carved seats for the earl and his eight barons, spiritual and temporal.
Castle, Shire Hall, and Cæsar’s Tower
“As before stated, the centre buildings contain the Assize Court and City Gaol. In front of the Hall of Justice is a portico,supported by twelve pillars in double rows. The entrances are at the sides of the portico. The interior of the Court is of a semicircular form, forty-four feet high, eighty feet diameter, and forty-four feet wide. Round the semicircle is a colonnade of twelve Ionic pillars, supporting a semi-dome, divided into four square compartments, richly embellished. Thetout ensembleis grand and imposing, and admirably adapted to give a majestic appearance to a judicial court.
“Behind this building is the Constable’s residence, a terrace in front of which commands a view of the Chapel, and Felons’ Yards below, five in number. The Debtors’ Yards form quadrangles on the right and left of the Constable’s house, on a level with the Castle Yard.”
The Churches of St. Mary, and St. Bridget, are both within a stone’s throw; but we must leave them for the present, and continue our interesting “Walk round the Walls.” In a few minutes we arrive at the angle of the Walls, where the massive ramparts of the Castle frown majestically above us, while below, the classic waters of the Dee flow languidly on, regardless of yon noble and magnificent stone Bridge, which, with its unequalled single arch of 200 feet span, crosses the river a short distance away from us. This is theGrosvenor Bridge, finished in 1832, at a cost of 30,000l.and formally opened in October of that year, by Her present Most Gracious Majesty, then Princess Victoria. It has the reputation of being thelargest stone arch in the world. Immediately to the left of the Bridge is the Cemetery, of which more hereafter.
Again we pass onwards, having on our left the higher wards of the Castle, Julius Cæsar’s Tower, and the lofty boundary wall of the new County Gaol. Cæsar’s Tower (so called) has of late years been converted into a powder magazine, and may, some day or other, make itself both heard and felt by the citizens, unless they procure the removal of the magazine to some more distant and fitting locality.
Still onwards, by the side of the Dee, and we approach the Old Dee Bridge and Mills, having on the opposite shore the suburb ofHandbridge, called by the WelshTreboeth, orburnt town, from its having been so often razed to the ground during their predatory incursions. Yonder isEdgar’s Field, so called from the palace of that Saxon monarch having been traditionally situate there. In this field is a projecting rock, partially excavated, still bearing the name ofEdgar’s Cave; and the tradition is that, in 971, that monarch was rowed from thence to St. John’s Church by six pettykings or princes, in token of their subjection to his rule. At the entrance of the cave is a rude sculpture, supposed to represent Minerva, accompanied by her usual symbol, the owl.
Where we are now standing was, fifty years ago, an ancient postern, called theShipgate, orSheepgate, from which went a ford across the river into Handbridge. The gate itself, of Roman construction, on being taken down, was carefully preserved, and now ornaments the garden of the present town clerk, J. Finchett-Maddock, Esq., in Abbey Square.
A few steps further will bring us to the South orBridge Gate, the last of the four principal Gates of the city. It is a bold and imposing structure, erected, in 1782, at the expense of the corporation, in place of the old and ponderous gateway which previously occupied its site. The old Gate is quoted in deeds as far back as the twelfth century, and appears to have been granted by the Norman Earl Randle and his Countess to one Poyns, their servant, for some meritorious but unrecorded service. From his successors it passed, through Philip le Clerc, to the families of Raby, Norris, and Troutbeck, until the honour of “custodian of the Bridge Gate” became vested at length in the Earls of Shrewsbury, who, in the seventeenth century, sold their rights to the Corporation.
Crossing over the Bridge Gate, we have now a better view of theDee Mills, a massive pile of buildings, resting on the south-west end of the Old Bridge. The Dee Mills existed on this very spot shortly after the Norman Conquest, and were for centuries a source of immense revenue to their owners, the Earls. Edward the Black Prince, as Earl of Chester, granted them for life to Sir Howel-y-Fwyal, constable of Criccaeth Castle, for his gallant conduct at the Battle of Poictiers; since which time they have passed through successive owners to the Wrench family, who are the present possessors. The Mills have been thrice destroyed by fire.
TheDee Bridgeis of great antiquity, having been erected in 1280 by the citizens, under a peremptory order to that effect from King Edward I. Previous to that date there had been awooden bridgehere, originating with that amazonian “edifier” of Chester, the Mercian Princess Ethelfleda; but that passage was continually subject to interruptions, both from the violence of the tides, and the restless zeal of the Welshmen,—hence the erection of the present Bridge. It consists at present of seven arches of irregular size, but is said to have originally boasted of two or three more, nowbuilt up. It was widened in 1826, by the addition of a projecting footpath, seven feet wide, which has somewhat destroyed its antiquated appearance from this point of view.
TheCauseway, or weir, on this side the Bridge, is recorded to have been first built by Hugh Lupus, the Conqueror’s nephew, probably about the time of the foundation of the Dee Mills. It stemmed the tide of the Dee, and of all opposition, until the period of the Commonwealth, when we find an order of parliament commanding the destruction of both Causeway and Mills; but the puritanical order appears to have been derisively set at nought; at all events, it was never carried out. An American author, writing upon this topic, facetiously remarks:—“Thedamwas built, I don’t know when. The Puritans, they say, tried to destroy it—for itsbad name, perhaps—but could not, because, like a duck, it kept under a high flood of water, until the Cavaliers, making a rush to save it, spiked their guns.”
Wending our way to the eastward, we have before us a long and interesting stretch of the meandering Dee, crossed at some distance away by a chaste, yet gossamer-looking bridge, erected in 1852, by Enoch Gerrard, Esq., the projector and proprietor ofQueen’s Park, that beautiful range of building land on the opposite side of the river. Those steps on the right, leading down to the river side, are usually known as theRecorder’s Steps, from their having been erected in 1700, for the accommodation of Roger Comberbach, Esq., then Recorder of Chester.
The Walls here run at a great height above the roadway, until we turn quick round to the northward, at a lofty flight of steps, called theWishing Steps. And why theWishing Steps, you ask? Listen, and you shall hear. There’s a small bit of “folk lore” bound up with these Steps, and we never pass by them without recalling to mind our boyhood’s attempts to master the difficulty. We were always told when a child, and we heartily believe it as a man, that whosoever shall stand at the foot of these steps, andwishfor any mundane blessing—be it the gold of Ophir, aye, or even Paradise itself—and (mind this!) run up to the head, down to the bottom, and up again to the top of these steps, without taking breath, shall have his fondest wish fulfilled, though it were to the half of the kingdom! The secret is, that no one could possibly accomplish the feat without taking breath some half dozen times.
From the top of the Wishing Steps we have a beautiful prospect of the banks of the Dee, and of the south-eastern environs of thecity. From an altitude of some sixty feet, we see beneath us the stream of Deva in all but repose, for above the Causeway the River assumes almost the smoothness of a lake. The ironSuspension Bridge, which crosses it midway, and unites the city with its handsome suburb,Queen’s Park, forms a pretty object in the landscape. Though of such spider-like construction, its capabilities and strength have been fully tested. Mr. Dredge, upon whose patent principle the bridge was erected, thus describes it:—“The Queen’s Park Bridge is 262 feet span, and 417 long, resting upon massive block masonry (about 3000 cubical feet), which is all below the surface as foundation, and upon it, on each side of the river, is a cluster of four cast-iron pillars, about 33 feet high. The bridge is 23 feet above the ordinary level of the river, and altogether it consists of about 50 tons of iron, the whole of which was wrought on the ground, and the bridge finished in about three months. Its cost was 850l.” When Mr. Gerrardfirst projected the Queen’s Park, he saw at once the necessity of providing a shorter and better pathway to the city than the old route through Handbridge, and the erection of Queen’s Park Suspension Bridge was therefore the starting point of his building operations. Nor has the result belied his confident anticipations of the popularity of the Park; for what was, but a year or two ago, a modest agricultural farm, is now fast developing into an important and delightful suburb. In fact, the salubrity of the air, and the high commanding situation of Queen’s Park, together with its beautiful river scenery, and its close proximity to the city, combine to render it peculiarly suitable for villa residences.
Queen’s Park and River, from the Wishing Steps
To our left are some handsome houses, overlooking the river; and behind them, the lofty steeple ofSt. John’s Churchattracts our especial notice and admiration. This Church is one of our many Chester lions; but, as we shall have to deal with it more at large by and bye, we will pass on now, between some obtrusive houses blocking up the view on one side, and most prolific gardens and orchards on the other, until we reach some modern steps on our left, leading down to theNewgate.
This Gate, or its predecessor, was calledWolfeldorWolfgate, as alsoPepper Gate, from its standing at the bottom of the Pepper Street. Tradition informs us that this Gate was “of old time closed up and shut, because a young man stole away a Mayor of Chester’s daughter through the same Gate, as she was playing at ball with other maidens in the Pepper Street.” Albert Smith, in his “Struggles and Adventures of Christopher Tadpole,” perpetuates this tradition, in his own happy and humorous style.There‘all who run may read’ of the sinful conduct of that wicked young man, and of that almost as froward and faulty young maiden, whose mutual frailties gave birth to the Cheshire proverb, “When the daughter is stolen, shut the Pepper Gate,”—another version of “When the steed is stolen, lock the stable door.”
Two or three paces onwards bring us to some pretty little gardens on one side, and on the other to the remains of an old turret, formerly known asThimbleby’s Tower, though why or wherefore so designated is, ‘in these latter days,’ a mystery. Beyond this is a flight of steps, leading down to theWesleyan Methodist Chapel, a commodious structure erected in 1811, the principal front of which is towards St. John’s Street; to the left of it is the School-room of the same religious community. Within a short distance from this, we mount some half dozen steps, and find ourselves on the top of theEast Gate, and enjoying a view ofthe principal Street of the city, at an altitude of some forty feet. At our back is Foregate Street, the old-fashioned mail-coach road to Birmingham and London; while in front we have Eastgate Street, the Cross, and St. Peter’s Church, which will receive more particular attention in our next chapter.
Stepping down from the Eastgate on its opposite side, we have now completed our circuit of the Walls; and our appetite being somewhat sharpened by our long walk, we will turn into the “Blossoms,” and discuss the merits of such “savoury meats” as “mine host of that ilk” is enabled to lay before us.
The Streets of Chester.—Eastgate Street and Royal Hotel.—The Ancient Rows of Chester.—An American’s “notion” of them.—The Architecture of the Rows and Streets.—The High Cross.—The Pentice and Conduit.—The City Bullbait.—St. Peter’s Church.
Let us move slowly through the street,Filled with an ever shifting train,Amid the sound of steps that beatThe murmuring walks like autumn rain.—Bryant.
Let us move slowly through the street,Filled with an ever shifting train,Amid the sound of steps that beatThe murmuring walks like autumn rain.—Bryant.
Havingadequately “refreshed the inner man,” we will now, like Don Quixote, sally forth into theStreet“in search of the picturesque,” and doubtless we shall there find much of a nature to interest and delight us.
TheEastgate, under which we are now passing, marks the termination of the old Watling Street,—the line of which is here taken up by the chief of the four great Streets of the city, as planned and excavated by the soldier colonists of once mighty Rome. We have passed from Foregate intoEastgate Street, ever thevia principalisof Chester, and still maintaining that ancient prerogative despite the revolutionary inroads of steam. It is the one great highway for all passengers and conveyances to and from the Station, and as a necessary consequence holds the proud distinction of being, for all business purposes, the main Street of the city.
This arcade on our left is theRoyal Hotel Row, and the massive pile of buildings of which it forms a part, and from which it derives its name, is theRoyal Hotel. The “Royal” is pre-eminently the chief Hotel of the city; for besides being the most central and commodious, it is at the same timepar excellencethe first and most fashionable of all our Chester Hotels, and under its present efficient management, is certainly not surpassed by any similar provincial establishment. Its capaciousAssembly Roomis, with perhaps one exception, the finest room the city can boast, and is consequently in high repute for all literary andmusical entertainments. The Royal Hotel enjoys the singular felicity of beingin three distinct parishes; thus, in a religious, as well as a commercial point of view, “it stands well!”
Royal Hotel
If you have any curiosity for modern ruins, turn up this passage in front of the Hotel, and see the baneful effects of a chancery suit on what was once a flourishing mart of commerce; and as you look upon that half roofless, tottering fabric, still known as theManchester Hall, “thank your propitious stars” that you, at least, are free from the trammels of the law.
The street immediately beyond on the left, isNewgate Street, anciently styledFleshmonger Lane, from its having been at one time the chief place of business of the butchers. Nearly opposite to it, on the right hand, isSt. Werburgh Street, which we shall notice by and bye, when we pay our visit to the Cathedral.
And here we are introduced to another unique characteristic of old Chester,—its venerable Rows. To account satisfactorily for the origin of these Rows, is a problem which has troubled far brighter heads than ours; and, indeed, all we know in the presentday is, that in reality weknow nothingof their earliest history. Some writers, with exuberant fancies, have attributed to the Rows a British foundation: while others, with greater apparent reason, consider them a vestige of the dominion of Rome, and to have been by them erected, conjointly for the purposes of recreation and defence. There are many circumstances which seem to justify this view of the case; particularly that of their resemblance to the porticoes orvestibulaspoken of by Plautus and other Latin authors. Further confirmatory of their Roman origin, we may add that there is, or was, a street in old Rome, bearing a close analogy to the Rows of Chester. Taking into account also that a Roman Bath and Lavatory exist to this very hour under one of these Rows, the arguments in favour of their Roman creation are certainly entitled to a fair amount of weight.
If it be difficult to arrive at the early history of these Rows, equally difficult is it to attempt to describe them to a stranger. Distrusting our own powers, we will call in the aid of our friend Albert Smith, who in describing the Rows of what he calls “this marvellous city,” proceeds to say that “the passenger’s footway lies right through the first floor fronts of the houses—which are cleared away altogether, and above the shop, of ordinary normal position, by the road-side; and thus, the back drawing-rooms, or whatever else they may be, are turned into more shops; and great is the puzzle of the stranger as to whether the roadway is down in the cellar, or he is up stairs on the landing, or the house has turned itself out of window; affording a literal proof of that curious state of domestic affairs so often spoken of. And first he fancies the ‘Row’—as it is termed—is like the Quadrant, with the road excavated a floor lower, and shops made under the pavement; and then it reminds him of a Thames-side tavern, with all the shutter wainscots, that divide the large convivial room into so many little philandering ones, drawn away, and the windows knocked out. And finally he arrives at the conclusion that there is nothing else in the world at all like it, except the prints published by the enterprising booksellers who live there. But very convenient is this arrangement for old ladies of weak minds who quail at meeting cattle; and young ladies of extravagant ones who doat on shopping, in spite of the weather. For it raises the first above suspicion even of danger; and shelters the second from being favoured with the visits of the clouds, who cannot here drop in upon them.”
Another description from the pen of an American, is still more intelligible. Writing to a friend on the other side of the Atlantic, he says, “The second story of most of the houses is thrown forward, as you have seen it in the old settlers’ houses at home. Sometimes it projects several feet, and is supported by posts in the sidewalk. Soon this becomes a frequent and then a continuous arrangement; the posts are generally of stone, forming an arcade,—and you walk beneath them in the shade. Sometimes, instead of posts, a solid wall supports the house above. You observe, as would be likely in an old city, that the surface is irregular, that we are ascending a slight elevation. Notwithstanding the old structure overhead, and the well-worn flagging under foot, we notice the shop fronts are filled with plate-glass, and with all the brilliancy of the most modern art and taste. Turning, to make the contrast more striking, by looking at the little windows and rude carvings of the houses opposite, we see a banister or handrail separates the side-walk from the carriage way, and are astonished, in stepping out to it, to find the street is some ten feet below us. We are evidently on the second floor of the houses. Finding steps leading down we descend into the street, and discover another tier of shops, on the roofs of which we have been walking.”
And now for our own brief sketch of the Streets and Rows. This house, near by, with the eccentric gable, and grotesquely carved front is the notable establishment of Messrs. Platt and Son, chemists. The shop itself, which is one of the most chaste and elegant in the city, deserves something more than a mere passing notice, and is worthy the careful inspection of every true ‘lover of the beautiful.’ “This shop,” says theChester Courant, “exhibits one of the most perfect and beautiful examples of the application of architectural and artistic skill and taste to the purposes of business, that we have lately witnessed. It is the joint work of Mr. Penson and Mr. J. Morris, whose combined talents in the constructive and decorative departments, have produced a most successful and elegant illustration of the manner in which the antique character of our domestic architecture can be preserved, with every regard for modern requirements and comforts. The wood-work has been well executed by Mr. Hankey; the floor is paved with fancy tiles from the celebrated manufactory of Messrs. Minton, in Staffordshire; and all the details and fittings of the establishment have been carried out with characteristic taste and propriety. We should hope that the good senseand intelligence, as well as public spirit, displayed by Mr. Platt in this judicious work of restoration, will give an impulse to other improvements in the right direction; while at the same time it excites a regret that alterations have been previously effected, in such utter disregard of the architecture of the Rows, seeing how beautifully their original appearance might have been preserved, to maintain the unique characteristic of the old city.” The hope indulged in this last paragraph has not “wastedits fragrance on the desert air,” as two neighbouring erections sufficiently testify.
Eastgate Row—Platt and Son, Chemists
Next door to Messrs. Platt’s, and half hidden by the shop which obstructs it just in front, is that favourite resort of the fair sex, the drapery establishment of the Messrs. McLellan. A few yards farther up the street, our eye rests on the gabledfaçade, and handsome shop front of Mr. Bolland, Confectioner, Bride Cake Manufacturer to her Majesty the Queen. What! you are aboutto get married, are you? Well then, “a word to the wise is sufficient for them,”—give an order to Mr. Bolland for a Chester Bride Cake, and tell him it must be of the quality once supplied to Queen Victoria, and you’ll never forget this “sweet and luscious reminiscence” of your approaching wedding-day.
Eastgate Row—Mr. Bolland, Confectioner
Eastgate Street, North Side
You will perceive that there is a covered Row also on the other side of this street, similar in character, though not in adornment, to the one we have just been noticing. This is popularly known as thePepper Alley Row, a quaint but gloomy looking region, rendered still more so by the projecting block of buildings displayed in our engraving. Here are the well known drapery establishments of Messrs. Oakes, and Ambrose Williams, and that curious old zigzag erection, occupied by Mr. Hill, Chester’s enterprising boot-maker: behind which premisesPepper Alley Row“worms its darksome way” into Northgate Street. In this Row are the roomsof theChurch of England Educational Institute, and the ChesterExcise Office.
On the ground floor of Messrs. Prichard and Dodd’s carpet warehouse in Eastgate Street, there is a curious and interesting old crypt, erected, it is supposed, in the eighth century, an illustration of which will be found in our advertising sheet.
We are now fairly arrived at theHigh Cross, and close to the spot where that sacred emblem of the faith in old time stood. This ancient landmark, which was of stone, and elaborately carved, had for centuries ornamented this part of the city, and was a relic much and deservedly prized by the citizens. The Puritans, however, on obtaining possession of the city in 1646, with their characteristic abhorrence of the beautiful, and in direct breach of the articles of surrender, demolished this “fayre crosse.” “No cross, no crown” was, in a perverted sense, the motto of these fanatics, whose “organs of destructiveness” must, beyond doubt, have been largely developed. Some fragments of the Cross were picked up at the time, and hidden within the porch of St. Peter’s Church hard by, where a century or so afterwards they were discovered, and now ornament the grounds of Netherlegh House, near this city.
Near the Cross was theConduit, to which water was of old brought in pipes to this city from St. Giles’ Well in Boughton, and this conduit it was that, according to ancient records, was made to “run with wine” on all public and festive occasions. Here also, upon the south side of St. Peter’s Church, was the Penthouse orPenticeof the city, where the mayor and magistrates of the old regime sat to administer justice with the one hand, and feed on turtle with the other. Aleanalderman was as great a curiosity in those days, as afatparish pauper would be deemed in the present. The Pentice, which, with its accessories the Stocks and the Pillory, had too long obstructed this quarter of the city, was pulled down in 1803, and its jurisdiction removed to a more commodious room in the north end of the Exchange.
This locality, crowded as it must have been before the removal of these obstructions, was also annually the scene of theCorporation Bullbait, thus vividly described by Cowdroy, a local scribe of the last century: “The Cross is famous for being the annual scene of exhibition of thatpolite playcalled a bull-bait; where four or five of thesehorned heroesare attended by several hundred lovers of thatrational amusement. Till within a few years thedramatis personæof thiselegant sceneincluded even magistracyitself, the mayor and corporation attending in their official habiliments, at the Pentice windows, not only to countenance thediversionsof thering, but to participate in a sight of itsenjoyments. A proclamation was also made by the crier of the court, with all the gravity and solemnity of an oration before aRomish sacrifice; the elegant composition of which runs thus, ‘Oyez!Oyez!Oyez!If any man stands within twenty yards of the bull-ring,let him take—what comes.’ After which followed the usual public ejaculations, for the safety of the king, and the mayor of the city;” when thebeautiesof the scene commenced, and the dogs immediatelyfell to. Here a prayer for his worship was not unseasonable, as even the ermined cloak was no security against the carcases of dead animals, with which spectators, without distinction, were occasionally saluted. In many ancient boroughs a law formerly prevailed, that no bulls should be slaughtered for food without having been first thus baited by dogs. They loved tender beefsteaks in those days!
This barbarous recreation of a bygone age has long since been put down by the strong arm of the law, and we can now from the very spot study the character of yonder Row, which commanded in those days so near a view of the revolting spectacle.
The ancient and the modern in domestic architecture here stand forth in curious juxtaposition. To the left rests a building of venerable mien, the builder of which flourished probably in the sixteenth century, when Harry the Eighth or Elizabeth swayed the sceptre of England, and when wood and plaster was the chief ingredient in houses of this description.
In the centre of our view, looking affably down on its two-gabled neighbour, is a bold and substantial building of white freestone, erected in 1837, on the site of an older and more picturesque house. This is the business retreat ofour publisher, and by the same token the oldest book establishment in the city. Here are procurable, in almost endless variety, Guides to Chester and North Wales, local prints, books of views, &c. to suit every imaginable taste and requirement. Perhaps no city in the empire has been so fully and faithfully illustrated as Chester,—Prout, Cuitt, Pickering, Sumners, and others equally celebrated in the walks of art, have plied their pencils in its honour, while the genius of the engraver and the enterprise of the publisher have given permanence to their works.
The other house depicted upon the right of our view, its front bearing the arms of the Apothecaries’ Company, is the well-known establishment ofMr. J. D. Farrer, Chemist. “Farrer’s CestrianBouquet” and “Floral Extract” are perfumes too well known to the fairéliteof Chester to need more than a passing notice here. Strangers and visitors, however, will thank us for the hint that these, and other like gems of the toilet, fragrant mementos of “rare old Chester,” are “prepared and sold only by Mr. Farrer.”
East Gate Row
Opposite to these premises stands the parishChurch of St. Peter, the site of which is supposed to have been also that of the RomanPrœtorium. Tradition ascribes the first building of this church to that Mercian celebrity, the Countess Ethelfleda, who raised an edifice in the centre of the city to the mutual honour of St. Peter and St. Paul. These two saints had, up to that time, presided over the destinies of the mother church of Chester, now the Cathedral, but a ‘new light’ having sprung up in the person of the virgin-wife, St. Werburgh, the two aforesaid apostles were relieved of their charge, and a new Church erected and dedicated to them on the spot we are now surveying. Bradshaw the monk, fromwhose quaint historic poem we have already quoted, thus records the translation:—
And the olde churche of Peter and of PauleBy a generall counsell of the spiritualte,With helpe of the Duke moost principall,Was translate to the myddes of the sayd cite,Where a paresshe churche was edified trueleIn honour of the aforesaid apostoles twayne,Whiche shall for ever by grace divine remayne.
And the olde churche of Peter and of PauleBy a generall counsell of the spiritualte,With helpe of the Duke moost principall,Was translate to the myddes of the sayd cite,Where a paresshe churche was edified trueleIn honour of the aforesaid apostoles twayne,Whiche shall for ever by grace divine remayne.
St. Paul’s connection with the church appears to have ceased before the Conquest, since which time the edifice has been once or twice rebuilt. The spire is recorded to have been re-edified in 1479, in which year theparson of the parish, with his officers, ate a goose upon the top, and cast the well-picked bones into the four streets below. The ecclesiastics of those days were a jovial crew,—none of your lean, skewery-built men, like their degenerate types of the present day,—but priests of size and substance; men who quaffed their wine and sack right merrily; and who evidently looked after thespiritsof their flocks more than after their souls. Must not those have been “good old times!” The east and part of the south sides of the church were rebuilt in 1640, just before the breaking out of the great Civil War. The “parson and goose spire” having been injured by lightning in 1780, was that same year removed. The present square steeple was rebuilt in 1813; and the illuminated clock which ornaments the south front was first publicly lit up in 1835. The interior of the church, which contains some venerable monuments, has of late years been considerably improved and beautified.
Watergate Street.—God’s Providence House.—Bishop Lloyd’s House.—The Puppet Show Explosion.—Trinity Church.—Dean Swift and the Yacht,—St. Martin’s and St. Bridget’s Churches.—The Stanley Palace.—Watergate.—Port of Chester.
Westward, ho! a few steps, and we find ourselves moving along Watergate Street; once, and when Chester was a thriving port, the chief street of the city. As with men, so
There is a tide in the affairs ofstreets,Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
There is a tide in the affairs ofstreets,Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
but the tide for Watergate Street has ebbed away, and now flows in other and more favoured channels. Still, as we shall presently see, this Street is not behind any of its neighbours in absorbing interest. You will perceive that, like Eastgate Street, it has the Cestrian characteristic on either side,—its high-level Row. The one upon the right hand, adjoining St. Peter’s Church, is, perhaps, as good a specimen as we have now left to us of the “Rows” of the last century. Had we the time to spare, a ramble along this Row, and a hole-and-corner visit to the numerous alleys that intersect it, would convince the most sceptical that there is more in Chester than meets the eye. But we must away,—for see! here is an odd-looking tenement, on the other side the street, inviting our attention. Two hundred years ago that house was in the pride of youth, and the residence of a family of “some rank and standing,” as is evidenced by the armorial bearings carved on one of the beams; but, as somebody or other (Longfellow, we believe), has justly enough observed, “it is not always May!”, in proof of which this house has of late years been occupied as a sausage shop, and now shelters the defenceless head of a barber. Small and low are the rooms of this house—absurdly so to the critic of the present generation; and so contracted is the ceiling of the Row at this point, that no man of ordinary stature can pass along without stooping. Is it not a quaint old spot? Look upat yon inscription on the cross-beam. Tradition avers that this house was the only one in the city that escaped the plague, which ravaged the city during the seventeenth century. In gratitude for that deliverance, the owner of the house is said to have carved upon the front the words we are now reading—
1652.God’s providence is mine inheritance. 1652.
1652.God’s providence is mine inheritance. 1652.
God’s Providence House, Water Gate Street
On the right hand, lower down, isGoss Street; and still lower,Crook Street, both destitute of interest to sight-seers: but,exactly opposite to Crook Street, stand three fine gable-fronted houses, the centre one of which deserves our attention and admiration. This house is, without exception, the most curious and remarkable of its kind in Chester, and one which, perhaps, has no parallel in Great Britain. Prout has immortalised it in one of his inimitable sketches, of which the accompanying woodcut is a reduced, yet faithful copy. The origin of the house seems to be lost in fable; but, in the present day, it is usually styledBishop Lloyd’s House, from the fact of that Cestrian prelate dying about the date (1615,) carved on one of the panels, and from certain coats-of-armswhich decorate the front, bearing some analogy to the bearings of his family. Grotesquely carved from the apex of the gable to the very level of the Row, this house exhibits a profusion of ornament, and an eccentricity of design, unattempted in any structure of the kind within our knowledge. It is, indeed, a unique and magnificent work of art. To say nothing of the designs in the higher compartments, it must suffice here to state, that the subjects of the lower panels lay the plan of human redemption prominently before the eye. In the first panel, we have Adam and Eve in Paradise, in a state of sinless nudity; then comes the first great consequence of the Fall, Cain murdering Abel his brother. To this follows Abraham offering up his Son Isaac; typical of the “one great Sacrifice for us all.” The seventh compartment has a curious representation of the Immaculate Conception, whereby “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.” Ridiculous have been some of the attempts of “Local Guide-makers” to arrive at the real meaning of this design: some have gravely set it down as the “Flight into Egypt;” while another and later “unfortunate” has sapiently pronounced it to be “Susannah and the Elders.” The eighth panel symbolises the completion of the great sacrifice, the Crucifixion of Christ, in Simeon’s prophecy to the Virgin,—“Yea, a sword shall pierce through thine own heart also.” The three centre compartments contain the arms of the reigning monarch, James I., England’s Solomon, as he was called,—the supposed arms and quarterings of Bishop Lloyd,—and a Latin inscription, with the date 1615. If it be true that
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever,
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever,
then will this house, as a masterpiece of art, be an object of interest and delight to strangers, “till time itself shall be no more.” We should step up into the Row at this point, and scrutinise the indescribable forms of men and beasts which ornament and support the oaken pillars in front.
Bishop Lloyd’s House, Water Gate Row
A few steps lower down the Row is a passage or alley, communicating with Commonhall Street, calledPuppet Show Entry. This passage is chiefly memorable as the scene of a most terrific explosion, which shook the city like an earthquake, on the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot, November 5th, 1772. A large room in this passage was fitted up as a sort of Marionette Theatre,—a large audience had assembled,—the puppets were going through their strange evolutions,—when, by some appallingmisfortune, eight hundred-weight of gunpowder lodged in a warehouse below suddenly blew up with a tremendous report, killing the showman and twenty-two others; eighty-three, besides, being more or less seriously injured. In remembrance of that fearful calamity, this alley has been ever since known as thePuppet Show Entry.
Where that new range of superior houses now stands, on the opposite side of the street, was, until very recently, a fine old mansion of wood and plaster, the city residence of the Mainwarings, a notable Cheshire family.
Just below we have, upon the left hand,Weaver Street, ancientlySt. Alban’s Lane, leading to the spot where the Church andMonastery of the White Friarsin times past stood. Of this monastic establishment no vestige remains, except a portion of the western wall, which is still visible from Weaver Street. The spire of this Church, which was of noble dimensions, served mariners as a landmark in steering their vessels up to the Walls of Chester.
On the right side of Watergate Street isTrinity Street, in which is the oldest dissenting chapel in the city. It was erected in 1700, by the followers and friends ofMatthew Henry, the nonconformist, a learned and earnest preacher of his day, and author of the celebrated “Commentary on the Holy Scriptures” which bears his name.
Passing Trinity Street, we arrive at the ParishChurchof theHoly and Undivided Trinity, the first foundation of which is lost in remote obscurity. So early as the year 1188, we find Walter, rector of this Church, witnessing a deed relating to the Church of Rostherne, in this county. Very little, if any, of the original Church now exists; the west side is, perhaps, the most ancient portion of the structure, as it at present stands. Prior to 1811, the steeple was surmounted by a handsome spire, which, proving on examination to be in a dilapidated state, was pulled down, and the present square tower substituted. The reason for this change is not very obvious; perhaps there may have been bickerings and dissensions in the vestry as to the relative cost of the two, and the authorities thought it best to give up thepoint, in order to make matterssquare. The advowson of the Church is vested in the Earl of Derby, having previously belonged to the Norman barony of Montalt, one of the titles created by Hugh Lupus, Earl of Chester.
The interior is worthy the inspection of the curious. Near the south-west entrance is the baptismal font, by the side of whichlies the defaced effigy of a mail-clad knight, Sir John Whitmore by name, representative in the reign of Edward III. of the Whitmores of Thurstaston, a Cheshire family of knightly lineage and renown. This monument was discovered in 1853, under a pew at the south-west end; the face, hands, and knees, having been barbarously cut away, to suit the flooring of the pew. In its perfect state, the monument must have been one of the purest symmetry and beauty, and was evidently the work of an eminent sculptor, the Westmacott or Gibson of his day. The legend runs thus:—
Hic jacet Ioannes de Whitmore, qui obiit 3 kal. Octob. A.D. 1374.
Hic jacet Ioannes de Whitmore, qui obiit 3 kal. Octob. A.D. 1374.
A brass plate on the south side of the altar commemorates the burial ofMatthew Henry, June 22nd, 1714. He who had during life been a rigid nonconformist, at the “last sad scene of all” conformed to the faith of his forefathers, and lies interred in the chancel of that parish in which he had so long ministered as a dissenter.
The bones of another celebrity “lie mouldering here,”—Dr. Parnell, the poet, Archdeacon of Clogher, who was buried in this Church, October 23, 1718. Other monuments of interest ornament (or shall we rather saydeface?) the pillars and chancel walls. In one of the western windows are some remnants of ancient stained glass, and an obituary memorial, of chaste design, has of late years been put up in one of the small east windows of St. Patrick’s aisle.
A good view of Trinity Church is obtained from the end of Nicholas Street, just opposite to that ancient hostelry, theYacht Inn. TheYachtis, without exception, the most picturesque and curious of all our Chester inns. Time was when it was the first hotel of the city, and even now, “grown grey with long and faithful service,” lacks nothing that can render it a fit home for the wayfarer, whom chance or design has brought to the old city. Americans, who lust after the ancient and venerable, and who delight in the rare timber houses of old England, will do well to select snug apartments at theYacht, for its host, Mr. White, is the very impersonation of a true British Boniface. But theYacht, apart altogether from the qualities of “mine host,” and his well-filled cellar of “Huxley’s Fine,” has other claims upon our attention. It was at this house, then in the zenith of its glory, that the eccentric and witty Dean Swift (who has not read his “Gulliver’s Travels?”) stayed, on one of his journeys intoIreland. The Dean, being of a convivial turn, invited the dignitaries of the Cathedral to a supper at theYacht, but to his great mortification not one of them appeared. Disgusted at this return to his hospitality, the Dean scratched with his diamond ring on one of the windows of this house the following distich, not over complimentary to the church or the city,—
Rotten without and mouldering within,This place and its clergy are both near akin!
Rotten without and mouldering within,This place and its clergy are both near akin!
So much for theYacht. TheCustom House, immediately opposite, with its low stuccoed front, has nothing to arrest the special notice of visitors.
Trinity Church, Yacht Inn, and Custom House
Nicholas Street, which branches off in a direct line towards the Castle, has on the right hand a terrace of well-built, first-class houses, extending as far as the corner ofGrey Friars. From the circumstance of every alternate house in this terrace being occupiedby a doctor, it has latterly acquired the appropriate cognomen ofPill-box Promenade!
Some distance up Nicholas Street, on the left hand, isSt. Martin’s Church, a humble brick building, erected in 1721, in the place of an older structure dating back to the thirteenth century. St. Martin’s parish has recently been united to that of St. Bridget, and the services of this Church are now, in consequence, discontinued.
Moving alongSt. Martin’s Ash, as this locality is termed, pastCuppin Street, where the Old Gas Works are situate, we obtain a good front view of the new Church ofSt. Bridget. This Church, or rather its predecessor, stood originally at the other end ofGrosvenor Street, immediately opposite to St. Michael’s Church, and its foundation has been by some ascribed to Offa, King of Mercia, in the eighth century. Be this as it may, there are records preserved which establish its existence at least as early as the year 1200. On the erection of theGrosvenor Bridge, it was found that this Church stood exactly in the track of the projected New Road, now calledGrosvenor Street, and an act of parliament was consequently obtained for its removal. The old Church was demolished in 1827, and the grave-stones and bodies removed, where practicable, to the new burial-ground adjoining the present Church. The first stone of the new edifice was laid October 12, 1827, by Dr. C. J. Blomfield, the present Bishop of London, who at that time presided over the see of Chester. This structure presents outwardly none of the characteristics of a Christian Church; and might easily be mistaken for some pagan temple, rather than for one dedicated to the worship of the Most High.
Returning to Watergate Street, we see before usLinen Hall Street, called formerlyLower Lane, from its being at one time the last street on this side of the city. There is nothing to interest us in this street, which terminates withSt. Martin’s in the Fields, at the rear of the Gaol, and General Infirmary. So late as the sixteenth century, there was at the further end of this street an ancient Church, quoted in old deeds as theChurch of St. Chad, but the place thereof is now nowhere to be found.
Lower still down Watergate Street, isLinen Hall Place, where the ChesterChess Clubholds its meetings, and where players of every country and clime are sure of a hearty and welcome reception.
Nearly opposite to this Place, up a narrow, inconvenientpassage, is a house which invites and eminently deserves our notice and admiration. This house is styled indifferently theOld Palace, andStanley House, from its having been originally the city palace or residence of the Stanleys of Alderley, a family of note in the county, and now ennobled. This is an elaborately carved, three-gabled house, and is perhaps the oldest unmutilated specimen of a timber house remaining in the city, the date of its erection being carved on the front,—1591. The sombre dignity of its exterior pervades also the internal construction of this house,—the large rooms, the panelled walls, the oakenfloors, the massive staircase, all pointing it out as the abode of aristocracy in the olden time.
The Old Palace, or Stanley House
From hence to theWatergateis little more than a stone’s throw; but on the left is the handsome city residence of H. Potts, Esq., representative of a family long and honourably connected with the county. This house and the locality round occupy the site of the ancientMonastery of the Black Friars, where the black-cowled faithful ‘fasted and prayed’ down to the period of the Dissolution, but of which scarcely any traces, save the fragment of a wall, are now discernible.
The passage to the right leads toStanley Place, near which, in 1779, a Roman Hypocaust, and the remains of a house, also of the same remote period, were discovered. Such portions of these remains as escaped the ruthless pickaxes of the workmen, were removed to Oulton Park, and now ornament the museum of its present worthy owner, Sir P. Grey Egerton, Bart., M.P. for the county.
Beyond the Watergate areParadise Row, overlooking theRoodeye,—and the twoCrane Streets; beyond which we are introduced to that fabulous existence of modern days,—thePortof Chester. Time was when we might have tuned our harps to a different key, but now, alas! we can only lament the fallen condition of our ancient port, and the wretched indifference of those ‘high in authority,’ who by their senseless apathy in past days have brought the maritime trade of Chester to its present lifeless and ignominious state. This is a sore subject; so we will at once retrace our steps to the Cross, and in the next chapter continue our perambulations through the city.