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it contains his secret instructions to his Ministry in the event of his death or capture by the enemy. The copy is a literal one.

"Instruction Secrete Pour le Conte de Finkenstein. Berlin le 10 de Janv. 1757. Dans La Situation Critique ou se trouvent nos affaires je dois Vous donnér mes Ordre pour que dans tout Les Cas Malheureux qui sont dans la posibilité des Evenemenns vous Soyez autorissé aux partis quil faut prendre. Sil arivoit (de quoi le Ciel preserve) qu'une de mes Armées en Saxse fut totallement battue oubien que Les Français chassassent les Hanovryeins de Leur païs et si etablissent et nous menassassent d'un Invassion dans la Vieille Marche, ou que les Russes penetrassent par La Nouvelle Marche, il faut Sauver la famille Royale, les principeaux Dicasteres Les Ministres et le Directoire. Si nous somes battus en Saxse du Côté de leipssic Le Lieu le plus propre pour Le transport de La famille et du Tressor est a Custrin, il faut en ce Cas que la famille Royalle et touts cidessus noméz aillent escortéz de toute la Guarnison a Custrin. Si les Russes entroient par la Nouvele Marche ou quil nous arrivat un Malheur en Lusan, il faudrait que tout Se transportat a Madgebourg, enfin Le Dernier refuge est à Stettin, mais il ne faut y aller qu'a La Derniere exstremité. La

Guarnisson la famille Royalle et le
Tresort Sont Inseparables et vont
toujours ensemble il faut y ajoutér les
Diamans de la Couronne, et L'argen-
terie des Grands Apartemens qui en
pareil Cas ainsi que la Veselle d'or
doit etre incontinent Monoyée. Sil
arivoit que je fus tué il faut que Les
affaires Continuent Leur train sans la
moindre allteration et Sans qu'on
s'apersoive qu'elles sont en d'autres
Mains, et en le Cas il faut hater ser-
ment et homages tant ici qu'en prusse
et sourtout en Silesie. Si javois la
fatalité d'etre pris prissonniér par
l'Enemy je Defend qu'on fasse La
Moindre reflextion sur ce que je pou-
rois écrire de Ma Detention. Si pareil
Malheur m'arivoit je Veux me Sa-
crifier pour L'Etat et il faut qu'on
obeisse a Mon frere le quel ainsi que
tout Mes Ministres et Generaux me
reponderont de leur Tette qu'on offrira
ni province ni ransson pour moy et
que lon Continuera la Guerre en pous-
sant Ses avantages tout Comme si je
n'avais jamais exsissté dans le Monde.
J'espere et je dois Croire que Vous
Conte Finc n'auréz pas bessoin de faire
usage de Cette Instruction mais en cas
de Malheur je vous autorisse a L'Em-
ployer, et Marque que c'est apres Une
Mure et saine Deliberation Ma ferme
et Constante Volonté je le Signe de
Ma Main et la Muni de mon Cachet.
(L.S.) FREDERIC R."

THE MAP OF LONDON A HUNDRED YEARS AGO. THE extension of the metropolis of the British empire is one of the marvels of the last century; and its still increasing population has already reached an amount sufficient for a state in itself, and exceeding many of the smaller continental governments in that particular; whilst it enormously transcends them in wealth and influence. But it is difficult, by mere numbers, to convey an idea of its importance. Figures are too abstract, and our enumeration soon fails in ideas of extension. It requires eyes practised and accustomed to large masses of population to imagine 100,000; and a million is perhaps beyond the scope of the mind, a mere idea of vastness. GENT. MAG. VOL. XLII.

It has occurred to me, however, that the extension of London may be better shown than by a declaration, that its population has attained to the enormous amount of two million souls; and, that by setting forth the space of land which has been swallowed up, in providing for the shelter of the ever-increasing bulk of its inhabitants, during the last century, a more impressive notion of its size may be obtained. I am led to this by the contemplation of an old map of London and its vicinity, published in 1762, but with improvements to 1766. The title is worth recording, it is as follows:

A PLAN OF LONDON on the same scale as that of Paris. In order to ascertain D

the difference of the extent of these two

rivals, the Abbé de la Grive's Plan of Paris, and that of London by J. Rocque, have been divided into equal squares, where London contains 39, and Paris but 29, so that the superfice of London is to that of Paris as 39 to 29, or as 5455 acres to 4028. London therefore exceeds Paris by 1427 acres, the former being 84 square miles, and Paris only 63. By J. Rocque, chorographer to his Majesty, in the Strand, London, 1762, with new improvements to the year 1766.

The latter part in italics was an addition to the original plate. The map is dedicated to the Duke of Montague.

The extreme length of London, representing a dense mass of inhabited houses, unseparated by fields, was, at this time, contained within Whitechapel and Hyde Park. At the river side it was somewhat longer, reaching to a line parallel to Stepney at one end, and to Tothill Fields on the other. On the Surrey side, it extended from Rotherhithe to the then projected bridge of Blackfriars; the road from which to St. George's Fields was planned but not yet executed. There were a few houses at the foot of Westminster Bridge, but Lambeth and Vauxhall were as yet outlying villages. The width varied: north of the Thames a few hamlets were approached,-Hoxton, Bethnal Green, and Spitalfields; and Mile End Road, on the north side, was built on continuously, but Hackney, Homerton, Newington, Dalston, were scattered villages, or hamlets, contiguous, but not yet united to each other, and in the midst of fields and gardens. Islington was equally detached, and formed a long street of dwellings, reaching from the Angel Inn to Canonbury House; and extending about half that distance down the branch called the "Lower Road." Between this and Hackney was an undisturbed range of fields, and gardens, a mile and three quarters across in a direct line. Islington has now a population nearer to 100,000; but in a Gazette, published in 1751, it is stated to have contained nearly 700 houses, including the Upper and Lower Holloway, three sides of Newington Green, and part of Kingsland, on the road to Ware." There could therefore scarcely have been more than 5000 inhabitants. The City Road is marked out, but not built

on; there are fields on each side. It was projected in 1756 and opened for traffic in 1761. The New Road appears as in consequence of an Act of Parliament an addition on the map; it was formed passed in 1756, to unite Islington to Paddington, and was violently opposed by the Duke of Bedford, who thought it came too near to his house. But, with exception of a few habitations at Bagnigge Wells and about River Head, a line drawn from the near end of the City Road to Middlesex Hospital, formed the extreme boundary of the houses. All north were fields; known by the name of Lamb's Conduit, and White Conduit Fields, the Foundling Hospital standing alone within the former. Two aristocratic mansions, Montague House and Bedford House, with their gardens, formed the boundary at this part. The former of these was then the residence of the nobleman to whom the map is dedicated, and its high gables spoke of the era of Louis XIV. It was in fact constructed by an architect sent from France-the former mansion having been destroyed by fire. This noble mansion, known so well as the British Museum, has now passed away like its former tenants, but its name is preserved by the adjoining street.

Taking the line of Oxford Street from the corner of Tottenham Court Road, we find a tolerably compact mass of dwellings reaching to Marylebone Lane, and the village of that name is connected with it. A few houses are also clustered about the corner of Tottenham Court and Hampstead Roads. One of these was the old manor-house of Tottenham Court, which gave name to the locality, an indication of which is yet preserved in two massive imposts of stone, the remains of an entrance. Here also was the Adam and Eve public house, and the scene of Hogarth's "March to Finchley." But beyond were nothing but fields all the way to Hampstead; and the "Mother Red Cap" was a solitary house of resort for cockney excursionists, at a junction of the road leading to Kentish Town. It is now entirely surrounded by a dense mass of buildings, and retains very faint traces of ever having been honoured as a suburban retreat. The following account of the walk from Oxford-street to Tottenham

Court, written just fifty years ago by Joseph Moser, esq. (which, we think, has escaped the researches of the author of the Hand-book of London,) is graphic, and not a little interesting:

Rathbone Place was built soon after Soho Square. I can still remember when the street terminated where the old buildings now end. At this place there were rails and iron gates, beyond which was a large pond surrounded with walks, a good deal resembling the reservoir in the Green Park; at the upper end of which was the same kind of sluice. Fronting this, a house much celebrated for the manufacture of Bath buns and Tunbridge water-cakes, which was connected, by a row of large and venerable elms, to another famous for conviviality, called the Cock and Pye; from which ingenious combination, the idea of which was originally Gallic,* the back fields had their dominination. In the garden of this mansion the busts of the fighting-men, cast in plaster of Paris, and curiously coloured, were exhibited. I do not mean those of Alexander, Hannibal, Cæsar, and such kind of fellows, but persons considerably more innocent, as they only hurt each other, viz. George Taylor, Broughton, Slack, and a long train of their satellites, who displayed their skill in the adjacent booth-I believe I should call it amphitheatre-at Tottenham Court.

These walks were a very pleasant promenade for the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, &c. as they were planted with trees and gravelled. On their sides, particularly on the east, a very large space of ground was laid out in gardens adorned in the rus in urbe style, with Chinese and other summerhouses, tents, leaden Mercuries, wooden Venuses, cockle-shell walks, fish-ponds, &c. according to the taste and opulence of their tenants. These delightful retreats, in which after the toils of

traffic or mechanical exertions our ancestors reposed, or rather luxuriated, were divided by lanes and allies, the intricate meanders of which it almost required the skill of Dædalus, or the clue of Queen Eleanor, to develope.

However, one way this labyrinth brought you to Tottenham Court Road, and the other to a field in which was a pond much celebrated for duck-hunting, and other metropolitan aquatic sports, which had the appellation of the Little Sea. This, I think, was the very spot whereon Whitefield's Tabernacle now stands. A very few

* Il est là comme un coq en pâte.

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Returning to Oxford Street, and pursuing our course westward, we find that, in 1766, the north side, from Marylebone Lane to Edgware Road, had just been built on; but behind, all are fields up to the village of Paddington. The map, however, marks a very significant indication of the change about to take place, the word "kiln" being found immediately in the rear of these houses.

Pursuing our imaginary walk round the metropolis 100 years ago, we will cross the Park from Tyburn to Knightsbridge; and we observe, that the latter hamlet is hardly united to the end of Piccadilly, and that Brompton, Kensington and Chelsea, are hamlets and townships, divided from each other by fields, but as yet in no way united to the mass forming London. Crossing the river to Battersea, we find ourselves upwards of three miles, in a direct line, from the nearest of those suburban hamlets, connecting with London by the Borough of Southwark. This is Newington, but between this, however, lie, by the water-side, Vauxhall and South Lambeth. A few scattered houses are on the roads between them. Walworth and Newington join each other; but Camberwell and Peckham are distant suburbs, quite encircled with pleasant fields and gardens; whilst Deptford, and Greenwich, are towns at a distance sufficient to be pronounced perfectly distinct from London.

Before I enter into a minute consideration of the changes that have taken place, and which are presented in the modern map of London and its environs, I cannot refrain from pointing out an indication of the social condition of the metropolis 100 years ago as exemplified in the map before me.

The insecurity of the roads about the metropolis, previous to the introduction of a more efficient system of police, and of the brilliant gas-lights

Mr. Peter Cunningham gives the Cock and Pye Fields as the old name for Seven Dials: which, according to the text, is a site too far to the south-east.

"When Tottenham fields with roving beauty swarms."-Gay to Pulteney.

although now a matter of tradition, was to our fathers and mothers, and still more to a previous generation, a painful and very annoying fact. But the mounted highwayman has so long disappeared that it is only by history, or from the narratives of grey-headed octogenarians, we are acquainted with the exploits of Dick Turpin or of Jerry Abershaw. Legislation has been long too fond of the in terrorem principle, but in 1766 our map tells us, that the approaches to London were fortified by gallows, the sites of which I will point out, as they are drawn on the plan in question. At the meeting of the Edgware Road with Oxford Street was the celebrated "Tyburn Tree," a structure of triangular form, probably for extensive accommodation in case of a run of business. Casting our eyes up the Edgware Road, at Cricklewood, just over Shoot-up Hill, a little beyond Kilburn, in a vacant space by the roadside, are two gallows. One appears to have a projecting arm to it, similar to what the old ale-house signs display by a country roadside; the other is in the form of a cross, and, it may be observed, each has its tenant; but this of course was introduced by the draughtsman to shew its purpose. We will now return again to Tyburn, and pursue our course to Shepherd's Bush. Here, at the point of the green, are two precisely similar to those just described. It must be remembered these were both on important roads from the metropolis, having considerable traffic, and crossing many lonely commons. I may here mention, that there was another, not indicated in this map; it was erected in 1759, a little beyond Islington, on the road to Holloway; but it may have been removed at the time of our map. On the other side of the Thames, Kennington Common was the place of public execution, and the gallows is in form of a cross. At the corner of Richmond Park, nearest Kingston, is one of triangular form; the spot is called Gallows Hill, and was doubtless for the felons convicted at the county assizes at that town. All the other roads seem to be free from these disgusting memorials of a bar barous legislation; but for the instruction of seamen, a conspicuous and projecting point of the Isle of Dogs has

was

one of these dreary appendages hanging over the river side. This questionless for those convicted of murder and piracy on the high seas.

We will now consider the changes that have taken place on the north of London, between the boundaries formed by the New River and Edgeware Road, as it comprises the most important part of the additions for the accommodation of the population. There are those, still living, who remember a clear vista across fields to Hampstead from Nicholson's distillery in John Street, Clerkenwell; and a very large portion of the enormous extension of Islington has been made within the last twenty years. That part, which slopes down the hill to the valley of the Fleet River, by Bagnigge Wells Road, is one of the most recent. Pentonville takes its name from the proprietor, and is a district of great extent, which was commenced at the close of the eighteenth century. But it is to the present generation, that the credit of seizing upon such large tracts of green fields belongs. White Conduit House, one of the former suburban places of entertainment, which were generally in green fields, has but very recently lost the last vestige of its former character, and its grounds have been covered with small tenements. The remains of the conduit, to which it owed its name, were visible twenty years ago, on a bare space of ground opposite; and here, on a Sunday afternoon, was an unbroken line of holiday makers, going or returning, across the fields to Copenhagen House, another rural place of entertainment, which then stood quite alone, a long way distant from the march of bricks and mortar; but which has, in its turn, recently passed away, and its neighbouring fields are appropriated for the new cattle market which is to take the place of Smithfield.

We will return again in the direction of White Conduit House, but keeping a little to the north of it, directing our steps to a row of tall elms on the side of the rising ground. It was close by this spot, that a well-defined Roman encampment, with deep valla, was to be seen. It was a parallelogram, and the fosse was from 10 to 12 feet deep, and about 20 feet in width. Specula

1854.]

The Map of London a
tion has made this the camp of Sue-
tonius, and Battlebridge at the foot of
the valley the scene of the defeat of
Boadicea. There were but few data
for this idea; but some few remains
of weapons have been found in the
vicinity, and not far from Battlebridge
the skeleton of an elephant was dis-
covered. At the period of my first
acquaintance with this spot, from the
encampment down to the Small-pox
Hospital at Battlebridge, were nothing
but brickfields. About three or four
years ago, not having visited the neigh-
bourhood for many years, I thought I
would endeavour to trace out my re-
collections of the place. It was with
some difficulty I could persuade myself
of the identity of White Conduit House,
although it still preserves its name.
But as to the Conduit, it had dis-
appeared; and every vestige by which
I could have identified the place was
utterly gone. I felt interested in the
fate of the "encampment." I had seen,
a few years before, indications of two
houses being in course of erection in
the centre, and occupying the rest with
their gardens. But, now that so many
dwellings had arisen on all sides, it was
difficult to find those houses. How-
ever, I caught sight of the row of elm-
trees before mentioned, and, after a little
reconnoitring, discovered the range of
dwellings, and looking over the garden
wall saw the deep trenches, which were
not easily to be effaced. Montfort
Place is the name given to the row of
houses, and it lies retired, a short dis-
tance back from the Barnsbury Road,
about three quarters of a mile from
White Conduit House.

Lamb's Conduit Fields, which lay
between Tottenham Court, and Bag-
nigge Wells Roads, were first invaded
by the Foundling Hospital, which was
opened as early as 1745. All the streets,
north of the hospital, are subsequent to
the date of our map, as well as the whole
line of squares, Cavendish Square ex-
cepted, up to the Edgeware Road.
Opposite Bloomsbury Square was Bed-
ford House, the residence of the Duke
of Bedford. It is marked in our map
as a neighbour to Montague House,
and was pulled down at the beginning
of the present century. The names
belonging to the family of the Russells
are profusely spread about this district
in Bedford, Russell, and Tavistock
Squares, &c. Portions of the district,

Hundred Years Ago.

ence.

21

called Lamb's Conduit Fields, have not
been covered until the present gene-
ration. In many places little oases of
uncovered land have remained here
and there, while thick neighbourhoods
have grown all around. It seems as
if even bricks and mortar could not
flourish on every soil, and were some-
Whilst all about streets were
times condemned to a languid exist-
flourishing, and sending forth their
branches to encroach still further upon
adjacent fields, or fading gardens, large
districts between Gower Street and
St. Pancras New Church were left un-
covered, until the London University
seized upon one portion, and Euston
Square upon another. Gordon Square
has been most unfortunate, and even yet
presents a melancholy picture of un-
profitable soil, or unfortunate specula-
tion. This ground was called the Field
of the Forty Foot-steps, and is the scene
of Miss Porter's novel, so called.

On the north side of the New Road,
between Battlebridge and Hampstead
Road, in the rear of the houses front-
ing it, is for the most part a low neigh-
bourhood, especially the district called
Somers' Town, begun in 1786. At the
Brill, which leads into this, the imagi-
native Stukeley traced out the site
of a large Roman encampment. The
old parish church of St. Pancras has
been rebuilt in the last few years. St.
Pancras was formerly a poor secluded
village, and Norden, who wrote in
the 16th century, speaks of it as a
haunt of thieves: "walk not there too
late," says he. In the first quarter of the
18th century this neighbourhood was
little better; the whole line of the New
Road, indeed, was extremely dangerous,
on its side, had but a questionable re-
and the public houses, here and there
several parts of the outskirts of the
putation. One may often observe in
metropolis, certain neglected districts,
condition of a primitive civilization,-
which seem to take us back to the
waste patches of soil, seeming as if
pushed aside out of the highways of
traffic, or, with a knowledge of their
unworthiness, to have skulked aside to
shroud themselves in obscurity. These
neglected spots are as frequently ten-
anted by a class, or race, having but
little in common with the busy hum
about them. Nomadic in their habits,
not exactly living in tents, but in a
kind of machine midway between a

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