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- Costers and Cockneys
One Easter Monday. ’Arriet (watching the funeral of ’Liza).—“Nice sort of a Bank ’Oliday for ’er, poor dear.” - Costers and Cockneys
“Wot’s th’ row up the Court, Bill?” “Bob Smith was kissing my missus, and ’is old woman caught ’im. - Costers and Cockneys
’Arriet.—“Ow! I s’y, look at ’is bloomin’ ’At.” - Costers and Cockneys
“I ’ear as you don’t walk hout with ’Arry Smith any more.” “No, ’e wanted me to meet ’im incandescently, and I wouldn’t do such a thing, so I chucked ’im.” - Costers and Cockneys
“Ere y’are, Lidies’ Tormentors. ‘Two’ n penny!” - Brass to Sir John D’Abernon
For the happily increasing class of tourists who are interested in archæology, let it be noted here that the chancel of this church contains the earliest monumental brass in the kingdom, the mail-clad effigy of Sir John D’Abernon, dated 1277. Many of his race, before and after his time, lie here. The life-sized engraved figure of this Sir John, besides being the earliest, is also one of the most beautiful. Clad from head to foot in a complete suit of chain mail,his hands clasped in prayer, heraldic shield on one arm, his pennoned lance under the other, and his great two-handed sword hanging from a broad belt outside the surcoat, this is a majestic figure. His feet rest on a writhing lion, playfully represented by the engraver of the brass as biting the lance-shaft. - Esher Old Church
The reflections conjured up by an inspection of Esher old church are sad indeed, and the details of it not a little horrible to a sensitive person. There is an early nineteenth-century bone-house or above-ground vault attached to the little building, in which have been stored coffins innumerable. The coffins are gone, but many of the bony relics of poor humanity may be seen in the dusty semi-obscurity of an open archway, lying strewn among rakes and shovels. To these, when the present writer was inspecting the place, entered a fox-terrier, emerging presently with the thigh-bone of some rude forefather of the hamlet in his mouth. “Drop it!” said the churchwarden, fetching the dog a blow with his walking-stick. The dog “dropped it” accordingly, and went off, and the churchwarden kicked the bone away. I made some comment, I know not what, and the churchwarden volunteered the information that the village urchins had been used to play with these poor relics. “They’re nearly all gone now,” said he. “They used to break the windows with ’em.” - Milton’s Cottage, Chalfont St. Giles
Chalfont St. Giles lies down in the valley of the Misbourne, across the high road which runs left and right, and past the Pheasant Inn. It is a place made famous by Milton’s residence here, when he fled London and the Great Plague. The cottage—the “pretty cot,” as he aptly calls it, taken for him by Thomas Ellwood, the Quaker—is still standing, and is the last house on the left-hand side of the long village street. The poet could only have known it to be a “pretty cot” by repute, for he was blind. - The George Hotel, Ruislip
Round about “Riselip,” as its inhabitants call it, they grow hay, cabbages, potatoes, and other useful, if humble, vegetables; and, by dint of great patience and industry, manage to get them up to the London market. It is only at rare intervals that the villagers ever see a railway engine, for Ruislip is far remote from railways, and so the place and people keep their local character.Two or three remarkably quaint inns face the central space round which the old and new cottages are grouped, and the very large church stands modestly behind, its battlemented tower peering over the tumbled roofs and gable-ends with a fine effect, an effect that would be still finer were it not that the miserably poor “restoration” work of the plastered angles, done by that dreadful person, Sir Gilbert Scott, is only too apparent. - The Old Lychgate, Penshurst
- Where the Poor Live
The presence of aliens and their competition also lowers the already sufficiently low rate of wages. Houses, therefore, in these localities—once tenanted by a single family—are let off at exorbitant rates to as many as can be crammed into them. Lucky, indeed, is the married labourer who can anywhere secure a single room for{281} 4s. to 6s. a week. And such a room! No means of preparing a real meal, the family fare generally consisting of tea, “two-eyed steaks” (herrings), and a “couple of doorsteps” (two slices of bread) per head. - Hackney Coaches in London, 1637
Excessive number of Coaches in London. The preamble of a patent granted Sir Saunders Duncombe in 1634 to let Sedan chairs refers to the fact that the streets of London and Westminster “are of late time so much encumbered and pestered with the unnecessary multitude of coaches therein used”; and in 1635 Charles I. issued a proclamation on the subject. This document states that the “general and promiscuous use” of hackney coaches in great numbers causes “disturbance” to the King and Queen personally, to the nobility and others of place and degree; “pesters” the streets, breaks up the pavements and cause increase in the prices of forage. For which reasons the use of hackney coaches in London and Westminster and the suburbs is forbidden altogether, unless the passenger is making a journey of at least three miles. Within the city limits only private coaches were allowed to ply, and the owner of a coach was required to keep four good horses or geldings for the king’s service.