Enjoy this Tower Bridge & Other London Bridges chapter from "Imperial London", a unique view of London and its inhabitants, first published in 1901, by Arthur H. Beavan...

Tower Bridge & Other London Bridges

For eight hundred years, dating from 944, London Bridge sufficed for the traffic between the Middlesex and Surrey shores at the nation's Metropolis; but in 1750 and 1769 respectively, two more bridges, Westminster and Blackfriars, were opened.

Yet at the dawn of the nineteenth century there were still but these three bridges across the Thames.

Now, however, in the year 1901, we have fifteen between the Pool and Hammersmith (reference is not made to railway bridges); while Paris has upwards of thirty-one within its fortifications and along about the same length of water-way.

But for solidity of structure, and as examples of difficulties of construction skilfully overcome, the new bridges of London stand comparison with those of any city in the world.

First in order comes the Tower Bridge, immediately below the Tower of London, opened in 1894 with much ceremony by the then Prince and Princess of Wales.

It is built on the "bascule" principle, with two towers, the centre span - 200 feet long and 50 feet wide - being in halves, which by means of hydraulic machinery are raised for the passing of vessels.

Above is a fixed footway-bridge approached by staircases through the towers, that are constructed of steel masked by masonry and are 200 feet above the massive piers.

The latter are sunk 20 feet below the river-bed, and are said to be the largest in the world.

The total length of the bridge, with its approaches, is just half-a-mile.

From its Gothic towers a panorama of unique interest unfolds itself.

Eastward are confused tiers of steamers and barges loading and discharging cargoes, and in the hazy distance seawards is a forest of masts suggestive of the docks.

On land are warehouses, grim, but impressive from their size, and our cognizance of the wealth they contain.

But from the Surrey side of this noble bridge, looking towards Middlesex and the setting sun, the sight is wonderful.

The Tower of London is almost beneath us, and in every direction, turrets and spires, some quaint, some beautiful, speak of the Great Fire and Sir Christopher Wren's restorations.

From the bottom of Fish Street Hill rises the fine tower of St. Magnus.

The eye then sights the famous Bow Church, its dragon wind-vane high aloft, appearing to be just behind Billingsgate; the Monument and the Custom House; and shaded by two large plane-trees - the homes of innumerable sparrows - St. Dunstan's Church with its arched ribbed steeple, Wren's most graceful creation.

The grasshopper-surmounted campanile of the Royal Exchange comes into the line of sight, with St. Michael's noble pinnacled tower adjoining.

Then, black as ink, is seen the slender steeple of St. Margaret Pattens in Rood Lane, and the eye rests upon Caesar's Tower of London once more.

Right ahead of us is London Bridge, Fishmongers' Hall guarding one of its approaches, and St. Olave's, Tooley Street, and splendid St. Saviour's, Southwark, the other.

Ugly warehouses again on each side of the river, while finally the great dome of St. Paul's Cathedral, grandly dominating all, concentrates attention on itself.

The present London Bridge was opened with great state in 1831, by King William IV and Queen Adelaide.

It is the second stone structure that has here spanned the Thames since the year 1209, when the first one was completed, superseding the timber erections - always at the mercy of fire and flood - that connected the City with Southwark in Anglo-Saxon and Anglo-Norman times.

London Bridge stands 100 feet west of its predecessor, and for beauty of proportion and simplicity of style, is said to be the masterpiece of its designer, the famous John Rennie.

Blue and white granite from Scotland and Devonshire are extensively used in its construction.

It has five extremely flat arches over the river, the centre one of 153 feet span being considered a great architectural achievement in 1831.

Its length is 904 feet, its roadway 53 feet wide, leaving sufficient room for the pedestrians in early Victorian days, but utterly inadequate for the immense number of people who now use it, in spite of the opening of the Tower Bridge.

This is to be remedied by the enlargement of the bridge, at a cost of £100,000.

Granite corbels or cantilevers with open balustrades will be erected by the side of the present footways, each of them being increased in width from 9 feet 6 inches to about 14 feet.

From London Bridge the general view is the same as from Tower Bridge, though not so extensive; and to watch the steamers discharging their cargoes at the wharves at the Middlesex end is always a fascinating amusement; while throughout the day, the bridge is a fine field for the study of humanity in all its complex forms.

At its northern approach, i.e. from the shelter opposite the Stockwell Electric Railway Office, and facing King William's statue, a good example of ugly London is seen in the shape of houses permanently disfigured by hideous advertisement-boards, etc.; and, at the southern approach of the bridge, any lover of the beautiful, standing on the west side near the Bridge House Tavern, and looking towards Mackie Todd's office, will sorrowfully realize how hopelessly unaesthetic an object is the great railway-bridge that faces him.

Southwark Bridge, opened in 1819, is 800 feet long and 42 feet 6 inches wide, and was one of the first bridges in London constructed of iron. (Vauxhall preceded it in this respect.)

Its three spans - two of 210 feet, and one of 240 feet - have a fine effect, but as a means of communication between the two river banks the bridge is notoriously inefficient because of the dip from Queen Street, which so intensifies the up-gradient to the crown of the bridge that drivers of heavy vans prefer to go over London Bridge; and thus it is chiefly used by cabs and light vehicles.

On the south side the approach is fairly good, but on the north side the condition of things is not satisfactory, and it has been suggested that a viaduct should be made from Cannon Street to the crown of the arch, bridging over Upper Thames Street.

Blackfriars Bridge has a history, respectable, if not particularly interesting.

It is the second bridge of this name, the former having been opened for foot-passengers in 1769.

Having been begun towards the close of Pitt's first Ministry, it was for a short time called after the great statesman.

Robert Mylne, a young Scotch engineer, was the architect, and almost for the first time in this country the semi-elliptical, instead of the traditional semi-circular arch was adopted.

Though built of Portland stone the workmanship was very faulty, and between 1833 and 1840, extensive repairs were necessary, and from time to time a good deal of patching-up was done, until at last it was determined to build a new bridge on the same site, which, in 1869, was opened by the late Queen Victoria.

It was designed by Mr. J. Cubitt, and is nearly the widest (8o feet) bridge in London; its length, including its approaches, is 1272 feet, and it has a gradient of 1 in 40 feet.

There are five arches - the centre one spanning 185 feet - an elaborate cornice, and a low parapet that rather detracts from its otherwise fine appearance.

From the third recess on the Surrey side of the bridge, looking west, there is a striking and prolonged view of the curved embankment on the Middlesex side, embracing Keyser's Hotel, the City of London School, and Zion House - the tower of the Record Office in Fetter Lane just showing behind it, and also the Law Courts tower - the Temple Gardens backed by the steeple of St. Clement's Church, the London School Board building and Mr. Astor's office adjoining, the Temple Steamboat Pier close by, Somerset House, Waterloo Bridge, the Savoy and Cecil Hotels beyond, St. Martin's Church steeple, Charing Cross station, and the National Liberal Club.

But east from the bridge, with the exception of a good outlook upon the upper part of St. Paul's Cathedral, unmitigated ugliness prevails, a labyrinth of lattice-worked iron railway-bridges shutting out all sight of the river down-stream.

Blackfriars completes the four bridges within the City boundary, all under the management of the Bridge House Estates Committee, which dates back to the twelfth century, when certain lands were bequeathed to keep London Bridge in repair.

These have so increased in value, and so well have these Bridge House Estates - as they are called - been developed, that in modern times the Corporation has been able to purchase Southwark Bridge, after spending a large sum in freeing it from the toll exacted by the private company who constructed it, to erect Blackfriars Bridge, and, finally, to build the Tower Bridge, at a cost of about a million and a quarter sterling.

And all this has been accomplished, in the words of the Lord Mayor, "without cost to the ratepayers."

Canova, the sculptor, considered Waterloo to be "the noblest bridge in the world," and, he might have added, "the grandest memorial of Wellington's achievement," just as the Trafalgar Square Column is the stone embodiment of Nelson's crowning victory.

This bridge was opened on June 18, 1817, by the Prince Regent, the Duke of York, and the Duke of Wellington, an imposing military force accompanying them.

Many efforts to provide communication across the Thames at Westminster have been made in the past, but until 1736, the sanction of Parliament could not be obtained.

A bridge was opened in 1750; it was built of stone, of which substance it is stated that twice as much was used as in the erection of St. Paul's Cathedral.

In fact, it was overloaded with weight, and when old London Bridge was finally removed, the increased volume of tideway caused several of the piers to give way; so to remedy this, the bridge was lightened to the extent of 30,000 tons of material; but even this did not ensure its permanent safety, and it was decided to rebuild it somewhat lower down the river.

On May 24, 1863, at 3.45 p.m.- the exact time of the late Queen's birth - Westminster, one of the most magnificent bridges in the world, was opened.

It is the widest in Europe - 85 feet - twice the width of some others (Southwark, for instance), and the footways are each 14 feet wide; its length is only 990 feet, as the river contracts at this point, but the effect, as, backed by the Houses of Parliament, it is approached from the Surrey side, is most impressive.

There are seven arches from 90 to 120 feet in span, and the gradient is 12 feet less than in the old bridge.

For its size, it was a cheap bridge, having cost per superficial foot, £4, as against £11, 6s. 0d. per foot for London Bridge.

The view from it is very fine; to the west the Houses of Parliament facing St. Thomas's Hospital, with Lambeth Palace beyond, make one feel that one is standing in the Legislative centre of the British Empire; and, turning eastward to gaze at the splendid panorama, one recalls (should it happen to be a clear summer dawn) Wordsworth's well-known lines -

"Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open into the fields and to the sky,
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air."

Lambeth is a comparatively new bridge, having been opened to the public in 1862.

It was designed for light vehicular and pedestrian traffic, but its instability even for that soon became apparent, and it was purchased by the Metropolitan Board of Works in 1879 for about £36,000, when it was ascertained that under the strain put upon it, the structure had yielded to such an extent that if a load of 30 lbs. per square foot were to cross it, the bridge would collapse.

It is to be replaced by a substantially-built bridge of greatly increased width, and as it is so near the Palace of Westminster, and leads to Lambeth Palace, the style of architecture will in some way be made to harmonize with these buildings.

From Lambeth Bridge, the great frontage of the Parliament House can be well studied, but it is rather too near for general effect.

• the tower of the new Roman Catholic Cathedral at Westminster
• the lantern-cross and dome of the Brompton Oratory
• the great cupola of the Albert Hall faintly discerned in the distance
• the campanile tower of the Imperial Institute, very distinct; and the Natural History Museum, Chelsea Hospital and its grounds, most picturesque
• St. Luke's Chelsea tower with its four pinnacles just the height of Brooklyn Bridge, New York
• the Queen Anne houses on the Chelsea Embankment
• the old Physic-garden beyond, looking rather desolate shut in between blocks of new red-brick buildings
• old Chelsea Church tower with its flagstaff and crown-surmounted wind-vane

while all the intervening spaces seem to be beautifully filled in with trees, gardens, and grass-plots.

The Albert Bridge crosses the river a little further up than Chelsea Bridge, at almost the same angle from the shore.

It, too, is on the suspension principle, but it has no architectural beauty.

It leads to the western entrance of Battersea Park, and from it, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea Old Church, the Chelsea Embankment with its gardens and Queen Anne Houses, and Chelsea Hospital, can be well viewed.

Battersea is an inconspicuous modern bridge on the site of an old wooden one that paid its proprietors prodigious dividends years ago.

It connects the King's Road, Chelsea, with Battersea, and the view from it is identical with that from the Albert Bridge; but its interest lies in the fact that the up-river outlook is one that Turner must often have studied from his house in Cheyne Walk where he lived in such retirement, and which is recognizable, though with some difficulty, from the bridge.

Wandsworth, the next bridge, narrow and lofty, is available only for light traffic, and very much resembles a railway-viaduct.

It leads from Eel Brook Common, Fulham, to Wandsworth, and commands a long exposed stretch of river, which in high winds becomes tempestuous.

From this bridge the sight is pretty nearly the most uncomely in London.

From the Middlesex end, and looking across the river, at this point remarkably wide, on a dull November day, at an hour when the tide is dead-low, one sees beyond the broad margin of mud, nothing but groups of hideous mills and factories, flanked right and left by chimneys vomiting clouds of smoke.

The vision is of brick, a curtain of dirty brick, cutting the background of leaden sky in hard uncompromising lines without a curve or bend.

Looking hopelessly to the right for some relief from this depressing picture, there is nothing but the commonplace height of Wandsworth crowned by an unsightly modern church of the raw-brick packing-case type with a steeple, resembling a gigantic skewer stuck through a teetotum of Brobdignagian proportions.

Putney Bridge, one of the gracefullest of London's bridges, a "rainbow in stone," was opened in 1887 by the then Prince and Princess of Wales, and replaced a quaint wooden structure that for a century had done its duty by obstructing the river traffic with its inefficient arches.

From this bridge one of the most natural bits of landscape within the limits of Greater London is obtained.

It is best viewed from its centre, looking west.

One looks down upon the comely Bishop's Park and its picturesque old English lodge.

When the tide is almost up to the top of the embankment, there is a splendid stretch of water; and in summer "eights," "fours," "rumtums," "gigs," and white-winged yachts, add life and animation to the scene; while in winter, sea-gulls fearlessly hover over the flotsam that has journeyed miles up stream.

Fulham Church - behind whose chancel sleeps Theodore Hook in the respectable company of sundry bishops - seems to nestle up to the bridge; and, just beyond, Fulham Palace nearly succeeds in hiding itself amongst groups of ancient trees.

To the left are the boat-houses, marked out by their tall flagstaffs; and farther on is Barn Elms, whose Jacobean mansion and verdant links - where scarlet jacketed golfers follow their favourite pastime - is almost concealed by masses of lofty elms that reach far up the towing-path; while in the distance beyond is a faint vision of low hills and coppice, suggestive of open country.

It was in a "close" hard by Barn Elms, that a terrible encounter took place in Charles II's time, when six of his courtiers fought desperately with swords, and the infamous Lady Shrewsbury is said to have held the horse of the Duke of Buckingham, whose paramour she was, while that gentleman was engaged in the pleasant task of running her husband through the body.

Hammersmith Suspension Bridge, about two miles higher up, marks roughly the limit of the Inner Circle.

It is a light and graceful bridge, but whence, with the exception of the old Mall, shaded by fine elms, there is nothing upon which the eye can rest with pleasure, saccharin works, oil-mills, and other factories, having made Hammersmith as ugly a spot as Battersea or Wandsworth.

London is still conspicuous amongst the cities of the world, by its want of a regular all-the-year-round line of pleasure steamers, the ten miles of waterway - from Tower Bridge to Hammersmith - being plied by these boats only during the summer months.

Coming up the river from the Tower Bridge, one cannot fail to notice Lambeth Palace, the town residence of the Archbishop of Canterbury.

There is much to be seen there of great interest, which want of space in this work compels me to merely indicate.

The gate-house entrance dating back to 1490; the Early English Chapel (1244 -1270); the famous Lollards' Tower, built in 1434, on the extreme left of the Palace, are all deserving of a prolonged examination; not to mention the Great Library (Juxon's Hall), a splendid apartment with timbered roof, containing a vast collection of valuable books and MSS.

Fulham Palace, the home of the Bishops of London, standing in extensive grounds near Fulham Church, is approached from Fulham Palace Road through a stately avenue of old elms and chestnuts, and is completely encircled by a moat, supplied by the river-tide, constructed centuries ago at great expense, and still maintained in working order.

The park - for such it is in miniature - is most delightful, dotted with noble timber, a most unusual appanage of what is, by reason of the growth of London, virtually atown house.

The old portion of the Palace has some quaint rooms; other apartments are modern, those on the ground-floor having windows opening out upon the fine gardens, the pride of a succession of Bishops evidently devoted to horticulture.

From London's bridges can be seen a good many of the gas-works which supply Modern Babylon with one of its sources of illumination.

Of minor gas companies, chiefly suburban, there are some fourteen in all.

But practically there are two that monopolize the manufacture and supply of our gas; viz. the South Metropolitan (whose stations, south of the Thames, are at Rotherhithe, S.E.; Bankside, S.E.; and Bridgefoot, Vauxhall), and the gigantic Gas, Light and Coke Company, who serve the north side of the river, and whose charges are a continual source of complaint from consumers.

The latter have colossal works in various quarters, east and west; at Beckton, Woolwich, Silvertown, E., Bromley-by-Bow, Bow Common, Hackney Road, Haggerston, Pimlico, Nine Elms, Kensal Green (from whose cemetery the gas-holders are conspicuous objects), York Road, King's Cross, and immense receivers and works off the New King's Road, Fulham.

Electric lighting is everywhere around us, bidding fair to oust its rival from the field of illumination, if not of heating.

There are about sixty-five miscellaneous Electric Lighting Companies, of which fifteen have the right to supply particular districts of London.

Their number is not surprising, for when electric lighting became a possibility, the Current Supply Corporations were prompt to recognize that the great city presented the finest field in the world for their operations.

A group of promoters took the whole of the Metropolitan area, and sought for and obtained Parliamentary powers in regard to the different districts into which they divided it.

Provisos, however, gave local authorities the option of buying out the companies at the end of forty - two years; and, ultimately, Parliament authorized sixteen of these parochial bodies, apart from the London County Council, to supply electricity within their own area.

The Council have just re-installed the electric lighting of the Victoria Embankment, which, since 1884, had been abandoned.

The lamps on the Embankment and those on Westminster Bridge are of over 2000 candle-power each.

The lights themselves are lamps of what is known as "open" type, and will burn from sixty to eighty hours without re-trimming, and they form a beautiful curving chain of illumination from Westminster to Blackfriars.

This year has also witnessed the successful launching of the electric light at Fulham, the ninth municipality which has gone in for generating current.

St. Pancras made a start in 1892, and was followed by Islington, Hampstead, Hammersmith, Shoreditch, Whitechapel, Newington, Poplar, and now Fulham.

But Battersea, Hackney, and Bethnal Green are also engaged in carrying out schemes, and others hold Provisional Orders.

Altogether the right of supply is enjoyed by sixteen local authorities.

Shoreditch Vestry was the first to combine the destruction of dust and other refuse matter with the production of electricity.

The theory is very simple. The dust is cremated in furnaces so arranged that the heat given off is employed for the raising of steam, which in its turn is used for the generation of electricity.

To-day the demand for electricity has become so great in Shoreditch that the destruction of refuse is only concerned with the production of a comparatively small proportion of the supply.

Fulham, however, has combined the dust destruction and electricity production with a building for public disinfecting purposes.

As far back as 1582, waterworks were arranged to supply the Metropolis by means of wheels fitted into the narrow arches of old London Bridge, and turned by the ebb and flow of the river, thus lifting up the fluid which was distributed by gravitation in a primitive way through lead and wooden pipes to dwelling-houses, and public fountains and reservoirs.

These contrivances were not removed until 1822, when the New River Company bought out the proprietors for £1000,000, the former having since 1613 supplied the entire northern portion of London with the purest of water from the Hertfordshire valleys, the river Lea, and from wells sunk deep in the chalk.

But these sources of Metropolitan supply were vastly improved in 1724 by the creation of the Chelsea Waterworks Company, a corporation that under various Acts of Parliament now have virtually the sole right of selling the essential of life over an immense area of South-Western London.

Their reservoirs and stations are at West Molesey and Surbiton, with a large high-level receiver on Putney Heath.

The East-end is served by the East London Company from depots at Lea Bridge, Sunbury Middlesex, Walthamstow, Chingford, Woodford, and Waltham Abbey.

A large western district is supplied by the Grand Junction Company, whose works are at Hampton, Kew Bridge, Campden Hill, W., Notting Hill (where the water-tower is a conspicuous object for miles around), and at Ealing.

In South, South-Eastern, and part of South-Western London, the Southwark and Vauxhall Corporation enjoy, like all the foregoing, a Parliamentary monopoly, their reservoirs, etc., being at Vauxhall, Battersea Park, Hampton, Nunhead, Streatham, Wandsworth, and Forest Hill.

Finally, the West Middlesex has works at Hammersmith, which district it serves, and extensive new reservoirs by the side of the towing-path adjoining the grounds of Barn Elms, Putney. (The daily consumption of water per head for all purposes in Greater London has been officially estimated at 31.95 gallons.)

One of the sights of London is some great brewery like that of Barclay, Perkins and Co., Park Street, Southwark, an historic enterprise, famous in the eighteenth century as having belonged to Thrale, for whom Dr. Johnson acted as executor.

The modern premises are vast; the water, delightfully cool, is supplied from an artesian well as deep as St. Paul's is high; the stores of malt are enormous; while steam-power performs, almost without human intervention, the bulk of the work.

Whitbread's, in Chiswell Street; Finsbury, is the oldest Metropolitan brewery; dating back two and a half centuries; and is renowned for the production of porter (their speciality), stout and ale.

Charrington's Brewery is a prominent object in the Mile End Road, and is an immense concern, well worth a visit.

Huggins and Co., Ltd., Broad Street, Golden Square, covers a large area of ground in the middle of an overcrowded and squalid district.

The premises of Meux and Co., Ltd., formerly in Liquorpond Street, Gray's Inn Lane, are conspicuous at the corner of New Oxford Street and Tottenham Court Road.

The Company have spent large sums in boring at great depth on the spot for water, but hitherto without satisfactory result.

Watney, Combe, Reid and Co., Ltd. (the Stag Brewery, Pimlico), are famous for their stout and porter.

Truman, Hanbury, Buxton and Co., Ltd., an old and well-known firm, are in Brick Lane, E.

There are several other breweries of minor importance, such as the City of London Brewery Co., Ltd., Upper Thames Street, between Cannon Street station and London Bridge; the Lion Brewery, Belvedere Road, on the Surrey side, near the Hungerford foot-bridge from Charing Cross, a handsome building remarkable for a large stone lion on its summit, etc.

London's drainage is a vast subject.

To understand it, one must not merely theoretically study the question, but make a regular expedition, and inspect the Low Level Pumping House in Grosvenor Road, Pimlico; the Abbey Mills Pumping Station away east beyond the river Lea estuary; the stations at Barking, fourteen miles from London Bridge, and at Crossness near Plumstead, where are the outfalls of hundreds of miles of sewers.

There the sewage of London is disposed of.

And what that means may be judged by the fact that the total quantity in the year is represented by sixty-four billions - that is sixty-four millions of millions - of gallons.

This enormous amount yields a precipitate of rather more than two million tons of sludge, containing 89 per cent. of moisture, which is carried by six special steamers down the river and deposited in the Barrow Deep, fifteen or twenty miles below the Nore lightship, on the ebb-tide.

In addition to this, some ten thousand tons of solid matter have to be intercepted and destroyed by cremation at the outfalls.

Next:

Dickens' London - In the footsteps of Thackeray - Old Taverns, old Buildings, and odd Nooks and Corners - Houses with tragic associations: Romantic London

London, thou art of townes A per se.
Soveraign of cities, seemliest in sight,
Of high renoun, riches and royaltie;
Of lordis, barons, and many a goodly knyght;
Of most delectable lusty ladies bright;
Of famous prelatis, in habitis clericall;
Of merchauntis full of substaunce and of myght:
London, thou art the flour of Cities all.

Gladdith anon, thou lusty Troynovaunt,
Citie that some tyme cleped was New Troy;
In all the erth, imperiall as thou stant,
Pryncesse of townes, of pleasure and of joy,
A richer restith under no Christen roy;
For manly power, with craftis naturall,
Fourmeth none fairer sith the flode of Noy:
London, thou art the flour of Cities all.

Gemme of all joy, jasper of jocunditie,
Most myghty carbuncle of vertue and valour;
Strong Troy in vigour and in strenuytie;
Of royall cities rose and geraflour;
Empress of townes, exalt in honour;
In beawtie beryng the crone imperiall;
Swete paradise precelling in pleasure;
London, thou art the flour of Cities all.

Above all ryvers thy Ryver hath renowne,
Whose beryall stremys, pleasaunt and preclare,
Under thy lusty wallys renneth down,
Where many a swan doth swymme with wyngis fair;
Where many a barge doth saile and row with are;
Where many a ship doth rest with top-royall.
O, towne of townes! patrone and not compare,
London, thou art the flour of Cities all.

Upon thy lusty Brigge of pylers white
Been merchauntis full royall to behold;
Upon thy stretis goeth many a semely knyght
In velvet gownes and in cheynes of gold.
By Julyus Cesar thy Tour founded of old
May be the hous of Mars victoryall,
Whose artillary with tonge may not be told:
London, thou art the flour of Cities all.

Strong be thy wallis that about thee standis;
Wise be the people that within thee dwellis;
Fresh is thy ryver with his lusty strandis;
Blith be thy chirches, wele sownyng be thy bellis;
Rich be thy merchauntis in substaunce that excellis;
Fair be their wives, right lovesom, white and small;
Clere be thy virgyns, lusty under kellis:
London, thou art the flour of Cities all.

Thy famous Maire, by pryncely governaunce,
With sword of justice thee ruleth prudently.
No Lord of Parys, Venyce, or Floraunce
In dignitye or honour goeth to hym nigh.
He is exampler, loode-ster, and guye;
Principall patrone and rose orygynalle,
Above all Maires as maister most worthy:
London, thou art the flour of Cities all.
William Dunbar (ca.1465-1520) 'In Honour of the City of London'