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Mansion House.]

MANSION HOUSE HOUSEHOLD AND EXPENDITURE.

he orders prosecutions at the City expense whenever he thinks the public good requires it. The salary of the Recorder is £2,500 per annum, besides fees; the Common Serjeant £1,000, with an income from other sources of £843 per annum. The solicitor is supposed to make £5,000 per

annum.

"The Lord Mayor resides in the Mansion House, the first stone of which was laid the 25th of October, 1739. This house, with the furniture, cost £70,985 13s. 2d., the principal part of which was paid from the fines received from persons who wished to be excused from serving the office of sheriff. About £9,000 was paid out of the City's income. The plate cost £11,531 16s. 3d., which has been very considerably added to since by the Lord Mayors for the time being, averaging about £500 per annum.

"Attached to the household is

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Clerk of the Cocket Office. Gate porter

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"These sums, added to the allowance to the Lord Mayor, and the ground-rent and taxes of the Mansion House (amounting to about £692 12s. 6d. per annum), and other expenses, it is expected, cost the City about £19,038 16s. 10d. per annum. There are also four attorneys of the Mayor's court, who formerly boarded at the Mansion House, but are now allowed £105 per annum in lieu of the table. The plate-butler and the housekeeper have each £5 5s. per annum as a compliment from the City, and in addition to their wages, paid by the Lord Mayor-£45 per annum to the housekeeper, and £1 5s. per week to the plate-butler. The marshal's clothing costs £44 16s. per annum, and that of the marshal's man £13 9s. 6d. "There is also

A yeoman of the chamber, at Three serjeants of ditto,* each Master of the ceremonies

Serjeant of the channel

Yeoman of the channel

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These functionaries carve the barons of beef at the banquet on Lord Mayor's Day,

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"These sums and others, added to the previous amount, make an annual amount of expense connected with the office of Lord Mayor of £25,034 75. id.

"Most of the last-named officers walk before the Lord Mayor, dressed in black silk gowns, on all state occasions (one acting as his lordship's trainbearer), and dine with the household at a table provided at about 15s. a head, exclusive of wine, which they are allowed without restraint. In the mayoralty of Alderman Atkins, some dispute having arisen with some of the household respecting their tables, the City abolished the daily table, giving each of the officers a sum of money instead, deducting £1,000 a year from the Lord Mayor's allowance, and requiring him only to provide the swordbearer's table on state days."

The estimate made for the expenditure at the Mansion House by the committee of the Corporation, is founded upon the average of many years, but in such mayoralties as those of Curtis, Pirie, and Wilson, far more must have been spent. It is said that only one Lord Mayor ever saved anything out of his salary.

"Sir James Saunderson, Mayor in 1792-3, left behind him a minute account of the expenses of his year of office, for the edification of his successors. The document is lengthy, but we shall select a few of the more striking items. Paid-Butcher for twelve months, £781 10s. 10d.; one item in this account is for meat given to the prisoners at Ludgate, at a cost of £68 10s. 8d. The wines are, of course, expensive. 1792-Paid, late Lord Mayor's stock, £57 7s. 11d.; hock, 35 dozen, £82 14s. od.; champagne, 40 ditto, at 435., £85 19s. 9d.; claret, 154 ditto, at 34s. 10d. per dozen, £268 12s. 7d.; Burgundy, 30 ditto, £76 5s. od.; port, 8 pipes, 400 dozen, £416 4s. od. ; draught ditto, for Lord Mayor's day, £49 4s. od.; ditto, ditto, for Easter Monday, £28 4s. 3d.-£493 12s. 3d.; Madeira, 32 dozen, £59 16s. 4d.; sherry, 61 dozen, £67 Is. od.; Lisbon, one hogshead, at 34s. per dozen, £62 12s. od.; bottles to make good, broke and stole, £97 13s. 6d.; arrack, 8 8s. od.; brandy, 25 gallons, £18 11s. od.; rum, 6 ditto, £3 19s. 6d. Total, 1,309 12s. 10d."

"These items of costume are curious :-Lady Mayoress, November 30.-A hoop, £2 16s. od.; point ruffles, £12 125. od.; treble blond ditto, £7 7s. od. ; a fan, £3 3s. od.; a cap and lappets, £7 75. od. ; a cloak and sundries, £26 17s. od. ; hair ornaments, £34 os. od.; a cap, £7 18s. od.; sundries, £37 9s. Id. 1793, Jan. 26.—A silk, for 9th Nov., 3 guineas per yard, £41 6s. od.; a petticoat (Madame Beauvais), £35 3s. 6d.; a

gold chain, £57 155. od.; silver silk, £13 os. od.; | tion, £o os. od.' Thus, to dress a Lord Mayor clouded satin, £5 10s. od. ; a petticoat for Easter, costs £309 25. od.; but her Ladyship cannot be £29 1s. od.; millinery, for ditto, £27 17s. 6d. ; duly arrayed at a less cost than £416 2s. od. To hair-dressing, £13 2s. 3d. July 6th.-A petticoat, dress the servants cost £724 5s. 6d." £6 16s. 8d.; millinery, £7 8s. 8d.; mantuamaker, in full, £13 14s. 6d.; milliner, in full,

Then comes a grand summing-up. "Dr. The whole state of the account, £12,173 4s. 3d." Then

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12 6s. 6d. Total, £416 25. od. The Lord Mayor's dress :-Two wigs, £9 9s. od.; a velvet suit, £54 8s. od.; other clothes, £117 13s. 4d.; hats and hose, £9 6s. 6d.; a scarlet robe, £14 8s. 6d. ; a violet ditto, £12 1s. 6d. ; a gold chain, £63 os. od.; steel buckles, £5 5s. od. ; a steel sword, £6 16s. 6d.; hair-dressing, 16 16s. 11d.-£309 25. 3d. On the page opposite to that containing this record, under the head of 'Ditto Returned,' we read 'Per Valua

follow the receipts per contra :-" At Chamberlain's Office, £3,572 8s. 4d.; Cocket Office, £892 5s. 11d.; Bridge House, £60; City Gauger, £250; freedoms, £175; fees on affidavits, £21 16s. 8d.; seals, £67 4s. 9d.; licences, 13 15s.; sheriff's fees, 13 6s. 8d.; corn fees, £15 135.; venison warrants, £14 45.; attorneys, Mayor's Court,

26 7s. 9d.; City Remembrancer, £12 125.; in lieu of baskets, £7 7s. ; vote of Common Council, £100; sale of horses and carriages, £450;

The Mansion House.]

A CARICATURE OF CITY LIFE.

wine (overplus) removed from Mansion House, £398 18s. 7d. Total received, £6,117 9s. 8d. Cost of mayoralty, as such, and independent of all private expenses, £6,055 14s. 7d."

That clever but unscrupulous tuft-hunter and smart parvenu, Theodore Hook, who talked of Bloomsbury as if it was semi-barbarous, and of citizens (whose wine he drank, and whose hospitality he so often shared) as if they could only eat venison and swallow turtle soup, has left a sketch

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elegance, he snaps off the cut-steel hilt of his sword, by accidentally bumping the whole weight of his body right-or rather, wrong-directly upon the top of it.

"Through fog and glory," says Theodore Hook, "Scropps reached Blackfriars Bridge, took water, and in the barge tasted none of the collation, for all he heard, saw, and swallowed was 'Lord Mayor' and 'your lordship,' far sweeter than nectar. At the presentation at Westminster, he saw two of the

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he trembled at the sight of them, believing them to be some extraordinary creatures, upon whom all the hair and fur grew naturally.

of the short-lived dignity of a mayor, which exactly | judges, whom he remembered on the circuit, when represents the absurd caricature of City life that then pleased his West-end readers, half of whom had derived their original wealth from the till. Scropps, the new Lord Mayor, cannot sleep all night for his greatness; the wind down the chimney sounds like the shouts of the people; the cocks crowing in the morn at the back of the house he takes for trumpets sounding his approach; and the ordinary incidental noises in the family he fancies the pop-guns at Stangate announcing his disembarkation at Westminster. Then come his droll mishaps: when he enters the state coach, and throws himself back upon his broad seat, with all imaginable dignity, in the midst of all his ease and

"Then the Lady Mayoress. There she wasSally Scropps (her maiden name was Snob). "There was my own Sally, with a plume of feathers that half filled the coach, and Jenny and Maria and young Sally, all with their backs to my horses, which were pawing with mud, and snorting and smoking like steam-engines, with nostrils like safety. valves, and four of my footmen behind the coach, like bees in a swarm.'"

Perhaps the most effective portion of the paper is the reverse of the picture. My lord and lady

"On ordinary state occasions," says "Aleph,” in the City Press, "the Lord Mayor wears a massive black silk robe, richly embroidered, and his collar and jewel; in the civic courts, a violet silk robe, furred and bordered with black velvet. The wear of the various robes was fixed by a regulation dated 1562. The present authority for the costumes is printed pamphlet (by order of the Court of Common Council), dated 1789.

and their family had just got settled in the Mansion industrious and attentive from his hope of one day House, and enjoying their dignity, when the 9th riding in that golden coach.” of November came again-the consummation of Scropps' downfall. Again did they go in state to Guildhall; again were they toasted and addressed; again were they handed in and led out, flirted with Cabinet ministers, and danced with ambassadors; and at two o'clock in the morning drove home from the scene of gaiety to the old residence in Budge Row. "Never in the world did pickled herrings or turpentine smell so powerfully as on that night when we re-entered the house. The passage looked so narrow; the drawing-room looked so small; the staircase seemed so dark; our apartments appeared so low. In the morning we assembled at breakfast. A note lay upon the table, addressed Mrs. Scropps, Budge Row.' | portcullis, from the points of which, suspended by The girls, one after the other, took it up, read the superscription, and laid it down again. A visitor was announced-a neighbour and kind friend, a man of wealth and importance. What were his first words? They were the first I had heard from a stranger since my job. How are you, Scropps? Done up, eh?'

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"Scropps! No obsequiousness, no deference, no respect. No 'My lord, I hope your lordship passed an agreeable night. And how is her ladyship, and her amiable daughters ?' No, not a bit of it! How's Mrs. S. and the gals?' This was quite natural, all as it had been. But how unlike what it was only the day before! The very servants-who, when amidst the strapping, stall-fed, gold-laced lackeys of the Mansion House, and transferred, with the chairs and tables, from one Lord Mayor to another, dared not speak, nor look, nor say their lives were their own-strutted about the house, and banged the doors, and spoke of their missis as if she had been an old apple-woman.

"So much for domestic miseries. I went out. I was shoved about in Cheapside in the most remorseless manner. My right eye had a narrow escape of being poked out by the tray of a brawny butcher's boy, who, when I civilly remonstrated, turned round and said, 'Vy, I say, who are you, I wonder? Why are you so partiklar about your hysight?' I felt an involuntary shudder. To-day,' thought I, 'I am John Ebenezer Scropps. days ago I was Lord Mayor !'”

Two

"Our Lord Mayor," says Cobbett, in his sensible way, "and his golden coach, and his gold-covered footmen and coachmen, and his golden chain, and his chaplain, and his great sword of state, please the people, and particularly the women and girls ; and when they are pleased, the men and boys are pleased. And many a young fellow has been more

"The jewelled collar (date 1534)," says Mr. Timbs, "is of pure gold, composed of a series of links, each formed of a letter S, a united York and Lancaster (or Henry VII.) rose, and a massive knot. The ends of the chain are joined by the

a ring of diamonds, hangs the jewel. The entire collar contains twenty-eight SS, fourteen roses, thirteen knots, and measures sixty-four inches. The jewel contains in the centre the City arms, cut in cameo of a delicate blue, on an olive ground. Surrounding this is a garter of bright blue, edged with white and gold, bearing the City motto, Domine, dirige nos,' in gold letters. The whole is encircled with a costly border of gold SS, alternating with rosettes of diamonds, set in silver. The jewel is suspended from the collar by a portcullis, but when worn without the collar, is hung by a broad blue ribbon. The investiture is by a massive gold chain, and, when the Lord Mayor is re-elected, by two chains."

Edward III., by his charter (dated 1534), grants the mayors of the City of London "gold, or silver, or silvered" maces, to be carried before them. The present mace, of silver-gilt, is five feet three inches long, and bears on the lower part "W. R." It is surmounted with a royal crown and the imperial arms; and the handle and staff are richly chased.

There are four swords belonging to the City of London. The "Pearl" sword, presented by Queen Elizabeth when she opened the first Royal Exchange, in 1571, and so named from its being richly set with pearls. This sword is carried before the Lord Mayor on all occasions of rejoicing and festivity. The "Sword of State," borne before the Lord Mayor as an emblem of his authority. The "Black" sword, used on fast days, in Lent, and at the death of any of the royal family. And the fourth is that placed before the Lord Mayor's chair at the Central Criminal Court.

The Corporate seal is circular. The second seal, made in the mayoralty of Sir William Walworth, 1381, is much defaced.

Saxon London.]

LONDON IN THE SAXON TIMES.

“The 'gondola,' known as the 'Lord Mayor's State Barge,'" says "Aleph," "was built in 1807, at a cost of £2,579. Built of English oak, 85 feet long by 13 feet 8 inches broad, she was at all times at liberty to pass through all the locks, and even go up the Thames as far as Oxford. She had eighteen oars and all other fittings complete, and was profusely gilt. But when the Conservancy Act took force, and the Corporation had no longer need of her, she was sold at her moorings at Messrs. Searle's, Surrey side of Westminster Bridge, on Thursday, April 5th, 1860, by Messrs. Pullen and Son, of Cripplegate. The first bid was £20, and she was ultimately knocked down for £105. Where she is or how she has fared we know not. The other barge is that famous one known to all City personages and all civic pleasure parties. It was built during the mayoralty of Sir Matthew Wood, in 1816, and received its name of Maria

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Wood from the eldest and pet daughter of that twice Lord Mayor.' It cost £3,300, and was built by Messrs. Field and White, in consequence of the old barge Crosby (built during the mayoralty of Brass Crosby, 1771) being found past repairing. Maria Wood measures 140 feet long by 19 feet wide, and draws only 2 feet 6 inches of water. The grand saloon, 56 feet long, is capable of dining 140 persons. In 1851 she cost £1,000 repairing. Like her sister, this splendid civic barge was sold at the Auction-mart, facing the Bank of England. by Messrs. Pullen and Son, on Tuesday, May 31, 1859. The sale commenced at £100, next £200, £220, and thence regular bids, till finally it got to £400, when Mr. Alderman Humphrey bid £410, and got the prize. Though no longer civic property, it is still used for excursions up the river on festive occasions. It is kept at Teddington."

CHAPTER XXXIX.

SAXON LONDON.

A Glance at Saxon London-The Three Component Parts of Saxon London-The First Saxon Bridge over the Thames-Edward the Confessor at Westminster-City Residences of the Saxon Kings-Political Position of London in Early Times-The first recorded Great Fire of London -The Early Commercial Dignity of London-The Kings of Norway and Denmark besiege London in vain—A Great Gemot held in London -Edmund Ironside elected King by the Londoners-Canute besieges them, and is driven off-The Seamen of London-Its Citizens as Electors of Kings.

OUR materials for sketching Saxon London are singularly scanty; yet some faint picture of it we may perhaps hope to convey.

Our readers must, therefore, divest their minds entirely of all remembrance of that great ocean of houses that has now spread like an inundation from the banks of the winding Thames, surging over the wooded ridges that rise northward, and widening out from Whitechapel eastward to Kensington westward. They must rather recall to their minds some small German town, belted in with a sturdy wall, raised not for ornament, but defence, with corner turrets for archers, and pierced with loops, whence the bowmen may drive their arrows at the straining workers of the catapults and mangonels (those Roman war-engines we used against the cruel Danes), and with stonecapped places of refuge along the watchmen's platforms, where the sentinels may shelter themselves during the cold and storm, when tired of peering over the battlements and looking for the crafty enemy Essex-wards or Surrey-way. No toy battlements of modern villa or tea-garden are those over which the rough-bearded men, in hoods and leather coats, lean in the summer, watching the citizens disporting themselves in the Moorfields, or

in winter sledging over the ice-pools of Finsbury. Not for mere theatrical pageant do they carry those heavy axes and tough spears. Those bossed targets are not for festival show; those buff jackets, covered with metal scales, have been tested before now by Norsemen's ponderous swords and the hatchets of the fierce Jutlanders.

In such castle rooms as antiquaries now visit, the Saxon earls and eoldermen quaffed their ale, and drank "wassail" to King Egbert or Ethelwolf. In such dungeons as we now see with a shudder at the Tower, Saxon traitors and Danish prisoners once peaked and pined.

We must imagine Saxon London as having three component parts-fortresses, convents, and huts. The girdle of wall, while it restricted space, would give a feeling of safety and snugness which in our great modern city—which is really a conglomeration, a sort of pudding-stone, of many towns and villages grown together into one shapeless mass— the citizen can never again experience. The streets would in some degree resemble those of Moscow, where, behind fortress, palace, and church, you come upon rows of mere wooden sheds, scarcely better than the log huts of the peasants, or the sombre felt tents of the Turcoman. There would be large

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