p>The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction / Volume 20, No. 581, December 15, 1832
CHAPEL ON THE BRIDGE, WAKEFIELD
Chapels on bridges are not so unfrequent in architectural history as the rarity of their remains would indicate. Among the early records of bridge-building we read that "the Romans built many bridges in the provinces; viz. in France, Spain, Germany, Britain, &c. some of which had arches or towers on them."1 Plutarch derives the word Pontifex, (high priest,) from sacrifices made upon bridges, a ceremony of the highest antiquity. The priests are said to have been commissioned to keep the bridges in repair, as an indispensable part of their office. This we may conclude to have given rise to the annexation of chapels to almost all our bridges of note; and the offerings were of course for repairs: so that priests are considered to have been the olden surveyors of bridges, and chapels on them to have been displaced by the more secular establishment of toll-houses.2
The bridge, upon which stands the above chapel, crosses the Calder, at the south-east entrance into Wakefield, in the West Riding of Yorkshire. It was built in the reign of Edward III. and is a fine specimen of the masonry of that age. In the centre projecting from the eastern side, and resting partly on the sterlings, is the chapel, built in the richest style of Gothic architecture. It is about ten yards in length, and about eight in breadth. The east window, overhanging the river, is adorned with various and beautiful tracery, and the parapets are perforated. The windows on the north and south sides are equally rich. But the west front facing the passage over the bridge, (as shown in the Engraving,) exceeds all the rest in profusion of ornament; being divided by buttresses into compartments, forming recesses, with lofty pediments and pointed arches; whilst above is an entablature bearing five basso-relievos, the whole being crowned with battlements. The buttresses, finials, tracery, &c. form an assemblage of Gothic embellishments, which, for richness and delicacy can scarcely be equalled. This chapel was built by Edward IV. in memory of his father, Richard, Duke of York, and those of his party who fell in the battle of Wakefield.3 It appears, however, that a chapel had been built on this bridge by Edward III., and dedicated to St. Mary; but it was undoubtedly rebuilt and embellished by Edward IV. who, on this account, may be regarded as the founder of the present structure.
The beautiful embellishments have received considerable injury; and, about twenty years since this superb relic of ecclesiastical architecture was used as a warehouse. As architectural renovation is becoming somewhat the taste of the day, it is to be hoped that the restoration of the chapel at Wakefield will not be overlooked.
THE BROTHER OF OLIVER GOLDSMITH
As I was personally acquainted with Charles Goldsmith, the younger brother of Oliver, the Poet, I am enabled to furnish a few particulars in addition to those of Philo, contained in No. 573 of The Mirror. Charles, on his coming to this country, from the West Indies, had with him two daughters, and one son named Henry; all under 14 years of age. He purchased two houses in the Polygon, Somers Town, in one of which he resided: here, the elder of his girls died; I attended her funeral; she was buried in the churchyard of St. Pancras, near the grave of Mary Wolstonecroft Godwin. Henry was my fellow pupil; but not liking the profession of engraving, after a short trial, he returned to the West Indies. At the peace of Amiens, Charles Goldsmith sold his houses, and, with his wife and daughter, and a son born in England, christened Oliver, he went to reside in France, where his daughter married. In consequence of the orders of Buonaparte for detaining British subjects, Charles again returned home by way of Holland, much reduced in circumstances, and died, about 25 years since at humble lodgings in Ossulston Street. Somers Town. After his death, his wife, who was a native of the West Indies, and her son Oliver, returned thither. Charles Goldsmith had in his possession a copy, from Sir Joshua Reynolds's portrait of his brother; and I can vouch his resemblance to the picture was most striking. Charles, like the poet, was a performer on the German flute, and, to use his own words, found it in the hour of adversity his best friend. He only once, I have heard him say, saw Oliver in England, which was during his prosperity.
RECOLLECTIONS OF THE LATE COLONEL MOLESWORTH PHILLIPS
Colonel Phillips was the last surviving person who accompanied Captain Cook in his last voyage of discovery to ascertain the practicability of a passage between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, along the northern coast of America. I was an inmate of his residence in Lambeth in the summer of 1828, for some few weeks, and during that period received many commissioned attentions, for he ever avoided meeting or seeing strangers. He was invariably his own cook; slept but little, and seldom retired regularly to bed, but rested on a sofa, or chairs, as accident might dictate. His employment chiefly consisted in turning fanciful devices at his lathe, but he seldom completed his designs: however, I saw the model of a mausoleum dedicated to Napoleon, which evinced much taste and ingenuity. His workshop at once intimated that its occupant was not abundantly gifted with the organ of order. Plates, dishes, knives, forks, candlesticks, coats, hats, books, and mathematical instruments, lay in one confused mass, each enveloped with its portion of dust. To attempt any thing like arrangement, was at once sacrilege in the estimation of the Colonel. To summon his attendant he usually approached the stairs, and rang a small hand bell, accompanying it with his deep-toned voice with the words: "Ahoy! ahoy! all hands ahoy!" His liquors, and tankards of ale he always drew up from the window of his room, to avoid intrusion, and in returning the empty pewters he would frequently take too sure an aim at the potboy's head. Then came a concert of "curses" and every association but amity. The close of the scene was generally modified with something in the shape of a shilling, and the parties separated, mutually satisfied. Colonel Phillips, during his residence in Ireland, was possessed of considerable property, but from what circumstance he suffered a reverse of fortune I am not informed; indeed, so unwilling was he to connect himself with bygone days that it was impossible to gather from him a clue to the active services he had given to the world.
Thus lived Colonel Molesworth Phillips, glorying in most of the eccentricities of human nature. It is astonishing, considering the active part he took in society, that he should, towards the close of life, have secluded himself so entirely from the world, and those with whom he must have from circumstances have been associated. Colonel Phillips might probably have survived some years longer, had he not fallen a victim to cholera.
APOLOGUES.—(FROM THE GERMAN.)
On the day of the Creation, the trees exultingly extolled themselves one towards another, every one about itself. "The Lord, by whom I was planted," said the lofty Cedar, "has united in me firmness, fragrance, duration, and strength." "Jehovah's affection has rendered me blessed," said the widely-spreading Palm-tree; "in me has He conjoined utility and beauteousness." "Like a bridegroom among the youths," said the Apple-tree, "I parade among the trees of Paradise." "Like the rose among the thorns," said the Myrtle, "I stand among my sisterhood, the lowly shrubs." So all extolled themselves, the Olive, the Fig, and the Pine. The Vine alone was silent, and drooped to the ground. "To me," said he to himself, "appears everything to be denied—trunk, branches, blossoms, and fruit; but such as I am, I will yet hope and wait." He then sank down, and his tendrils wept. He had not long waited and wept, before the friendly man, the godhead of the earth, stepped up to him. He saw that a feeble plant, the sport of the breezes, had sunk, and required help; he compassionately raised him up, and twined the tender tree to his bower. More gladly now the breezes played with his tendrils; the glow of the sun penetrated their hard, greenish buds, preparing in them the sweet juice, the drink for gods and men. Adorned with rich clusters, the Vine soon bowed himself down to his master, and he tasted the enlivening juice, and named him his friend. The proud trees now envied the feeble shoot, for many of them already stood without fruit; but he was glad of his slender form and of his steadfast hope. The juice, therefore, even now gladdens the heart of man, and lifts upwards the courage of the dejected, and refreshes the afflicted. Despair
Britton, Arch. Dict. art. Bridge. On the decline of the Roman Empire, travelling became dangerous, and robberies and murders were frequently committed. To check this system, and protect travellers, several religious persons associated in fraternities, and formed an order called the "Brothers of the Bridge." Their object was to build bridges, establish ferries, and receive and protect travellers in hospitals, raised near the passes over rivers. In like manner we account for the erection of many bridges in England. According to Stow, the monks of St. Mary Overie's were the first builders of London Bridge: and Peter of Colechurch, who founded the first
At the old bridge at Droitwich, the high road passed through the midst of the chapel, the reading-desk and pulpit being on one side, and the congregation on the other. Other public buildings were not uncommon on bridges. In 1553 an alderman of Stamford built the Town Hall upon the bridge there; and on an old bridge at Bradford, Wills, there is a sort of dungeon, or prison raised on one of the piers.
Camden. Tindal's Notes on Rapin.
