Punch (26.1854)

NEW YEAR’S EVE IN GUILDHALL.

HE Pigeons of Guildhall, meek emblems of civic innocence, had
folded their wings within their nests, and were slumbering in peaceful
forgetfulness of the hall wherein “ the love of the turtle ” had so often
kindled “ the rage of the vulture ” in the breasts of those to whom a
fifth basin had been denied.

Occasionally a dyspeptic dove, fancying himself the inhabitant of a
pie, would start from his uneasy dr«am, flap his wings, and utter a
plaintive coo, but this passed, as one may say, in a coup d’ceil, and
silence once more reigned in the hall. Gog and Magog, contrary
to their usual custom, preserved an unbroken taciturnity, and stood
knitting their shaggy brows and blinking their great eyes in profound
and painful meditation. But the clocks which now chimed out the
mystic hour of nine aroused these worthies from their reverie, and
springing lightly from their pedestals, they began to illuminate the
hall, by dipping several rods of office in moonshine—a process which,
as Gog surlily remarked, would give light enough for civic purposes.
This done, they unbolted the great door, and gave admission to a
crowd of men and women attired in festive though quaint garments,
but wearing on their countenances an anxious expression traceable, no
doubt, to the cause which had

“ Sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,

The native hue of sturdy Gog and Magog.”

Those colossal warders, stationed on either side of the door, received
the names of the visitors, and took the cloaks, hats, and swords of
such as were disposed to give them up. We should observe that
before the door was opened, Gog laid his cap on a little table before
him, and placed in it two rose nobles, three or four marks, and some
smaller coins, as baits for the generosity of the guests.

“ Good Master Prowicke,” said Johan de Gisors, a grave
citizen, to a graver, and a grocer, who walked in with him, “ I shall
have you to understand that mine eyen have seen to-night that of
which they were in no way fain. 1 did but go down Basing Lane to
look how my old house of Gerrard’s Hall bore itself, and to gladden me
with the sight of its bravery, and lo! it was clean gone, and in its
place were, I know not what new buildings of great size, but of small
beauty. I espied in the street an old wife, who sold a baked fruit,
about the bigness of an apple, the like of which I had never seen, and,
quoth I, ‘ Good wife, where is Gerrard s Hall ? ’ ‘ Gone to the Cristial
Pallage, Sir/ quo’ the wife, ‘You’ll see.it there some day, Sir, along
with the house of Pompey, Pm told. Sir.’ Conceive now, Master
Prowicke, what I felt on hearing this. Had it been one of the nine
worthies, whose house they were to show with mine, it had not moved
me so much. But who was this Pompey P I trow the magnates of
this city should have stayed, ere they dealt thus with the dwelling of a
chief citizen and of a benefactor to the city. We were wont to say.
Master Prowicke, that an Englishman’s house was his castle; but,
methinks, if they deal thus with his castle, he must needs have an
elephant, as well, to help move it.”

“ You speak sooth, worthy Sir,” said Katherine Hardee. “I also
went down to the Smethefelde to look upon my Hermitage, for you
know when my master, William Hardee, quitted the mayoralty and this life, our King, Henry the Third, gave me forty feet of land to
build an hermitage thereon, in whicn hermitage I lived an ankeresse for many years. Marry it was pleasant to look out from my cell on
the green fields and pleasant pastures, which the Hospitallers and the nuns of Clerkenwell and the canons of St.. Bartholomew held, and to
hear the fowles singen and maken. merry, and to see the sote flowers springen in the meades, and the young maids and bachelors walking
m the summer evenings by the side of Turnmill Brook. And, had I minded such vanities, I might have seen therefrom many joustes and
tourneys, and many noble deeds of arms, done to win a look from ladies’ eyes, amongst which it were unbecoming in me to say that mine had
once been held the brightest. And now in place of the sweet pastures I could find nought but houses of the worst kind, and pens for cattle
where the lists had been. used to stand; and when, thinking that the wretchedness of the place might mortify the flesh and sadden the
spirit, I asked of a boy if ever an anker dwelt there yet, he made answer, that he knew no house with that sign thereabouts, but that

Vol. 2G.

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