346 DEATH ON BOARD-WAGES: A LEGEND OF LUDGATE. Ha! is not this Ludgate? A jail, a prison, a tomb of men lock'd up Oh! at what crevice then hath comfort crept ROWLEY'S WOMAN NEVer Vexed. THE ancient Philosophers had a notion, that all bodies contained a portion of fire, under which idea they probably expressed, that some kind of interest or entertainment was to be found in every subject; and they are certainly very much in error, who suppose that anything is too barren to afford them. It is true, indeed, that the degree of excellence may vary, but then no one expects a sermon from a mountebank, or would wish to hear a grave ecclesiastic relate the adventures of Scaramouch. Assuredly, however, every study can furnish some kind of amusement; for your Antiquary knows a host of old songs, old stories, and old superstitions; your Lawyer can point to his interesting Causes Célèbres; even your most serious Divines have collected their narratives of remarkable Providences; and your Physician can tell many a curious case of Hypochondria, and many a tragical tale of disordered intellect. The Legend which follows, was derived from these latter sources; but as it's incidents happened when Time was considerably more than a century younger, let us first glance for a moment at the principal scene of the story. If the extension of a City be the surest sign of it's prosperity, then, indeed, has London arrived at an extraordinary height of glory; since the lonely fields and roads with which it was once environed, have been made to retreat before it's excursions; whilst it's triumphs have been written in the buildings which have risen on every side. The scanty fragments of it's ancient walls are now obscured, neglected, and decayed; and of it's numerous gates, those lofty and famous edifices, not one is now remaining; seeming to indicate that such is it's desire of expansion, that it has broken down it's ancient boundaries, rushed into the suburbs, and would spread itself out till there should be no end of it's dominion. When, however, the figure of ancient London was yet to be traced out by it's walls and gates, even in a mighty mass of other buildings, there stood by the side of St. Martin's Church on Ludgate-Hill, a large gloomy edifice which stretched all across the street, having a low broad arch, with two posterns for passages through it, and lighted above by seven iron-grated windows; which, from the darkness behind them, and now and then a cadaverous-looking being seen within, sufficiently declared it to be a Prison-house. It's only decorations consisted of some stone bands and pilasters between the centre windows, and a niche containing an effigy-ad vivum, as it was reported, of that very questionable old Briton, King Lud, facing St. Paul's, and another, of Queen Elizabeth, standing in the Western front. Above each figure was a shield of arms cut in stone, and on the roof was a kind of balustrade enclosing leads, on which the pri soners were allowed to walk, a wooden tower, and a clock. Without looking back to those ancient days when gate-houses were first used for prisons, we may observe, that time was, when the cells of Ludgate were the most liberal and reputable places of confinement in the City; being endowed with the gifts of many charitable Londoners, and the compassionate provision made by some of it's former tenants, when Fortune turned on them her sunny side, and brought them into happier hours. Then, indeed, garnish was unknown; the gloomy lodgings were alike free and equal to all comers; and the thousand fees which the prison-house is wont to exact from poverty, were prohibited, as the benefaction-table expressed it, "As the keepers shall answer The prison itself was intended as a privileged place of confinement for such free Citizens as the Law had only a slight misunderstanding with, as a matter of trespass, debt, or the like, which could there be either ended, or mended, as occasion should serve; whilst, during their confinement, they were entitled to participate in all the benefactions which were engraven on brass, and made payable for ever. But since all things change with time, the course of years had the strange and opposite effect of at once decreasing the prisoners' benefits, and enlarging the keeper's profits; so that one tenant states that when he claimed certain of the monthly gifts, amounting to 3s. 4d. his own expenses reduced his share to a balance of 4d. However, the ancient liberty of begging at the prison-grates was still allowed to them; which, tradition said, had made the fortune of a famous Lord Mayor in days of old, and at two boxes the passengers were invited to shew their charity towards the captives. Beside one of the portals of this Gate, a strong iron-grated hatch surmounted with spikes, led into those additional buildings erected by Dame Agnes and Sir Stephen Foster, the first of which was a stone room called "the Watch Hall," communicating with a quadrangle, and the interior of the prison; and in this Hall sat the Turnkey with one of the prisoners, elected by the rest to the office of an Assistant, his duty being to see all the visitors of Ludgate, and to call the persons they enquired for; to attend at the |