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THE MERCHANT^ CLERK; A LEGEND OF THE OLD TIME IN 



LONDON. 



DINING some time back with a friend, whose house is situated in 

 one of those out-of-the-way courts in the City, where one would hardly 

 think of searching for anything picturesque or beautiful, but which, 

 nevertheless, abound with various rich memorials of the past ; while 

 seated with him at his window, overlooking a small yard containing two 

 mulberry-trees at least a century old, I observed, with no small sorrow, 

 that an old stone wall, the rounded gable of which was pregnant with 

 recollections of the reigns of Elizabeth and the first James, was being 

 removed, in all probability to be succeeded by a piece of modern, unin- 

 teresting brick-work. By this removal, however, another morsel of 

 antiquity, which had previously been concealed, was now exposed to 

 view : this consisted of a hovel or shed, built against one of the interior 

 sides of this stone wall, and apparently the remains of some more exten- 

 sive and important building ; for though, in many places, the large, 

 irregularly-shaped slates had been displaced, or perhaps had fallen 

 away, and been re-placed by modern tiling, still several of the massy 

 stone pillars, supporting strong oaken arches, were remaining, and 

 appeared as though they were the vestiges of a colonnade or cloister, 

 which at some former period had run round the whole interior of the 

 wall. I mentioned this idea to my friend, who concurred with me that 

 it was probably correct. 



" By the way," observed he, " the spot which has attracted your obser- 

 vation, I believe even that very shed, was once the scene of a murder, 

 the perpetration and discovery of which were attended by some very 

 singular circumstances." 



This information, of course, led to an inquiry on my part; and that, 

 in its turn, elicited the following Legend of London : 



Towards the middle of the second half of the seventeenth century, 

 or, in plainer English, about the year of grace, 1672, there lived in 

 London a very rich, and therefore very respectable merchant, who, hav- 

 ing come to the rare resolution that he had made money enough, and 

 having, as he said, no kith or kin, tacked to this said resolution one of 

 more frequent occurrence, namely, that he would take a wife, to be the 

 superintendant of his household affairs, the sharer of his fortune, the 

 soother of his sorrows, if ever he should have any, and so forth. And 

 to a man of so much importance as was Master Edward Edwards, 

 there were very few obstacles in the way of his accomplishing such a 

 purpose, as he might easily pick and choose among jthe maidens or 

 widows of his ward, who would all be but too proud of an alliance with 

 so honourable and substantial a citizen. He did not, however, delibe- 

 rate so long on the matter as might perhaps have been expected, seeing 

 how wide a field he had wherein to exercise his speculations ; for at the 

 same time that he informed those friends, whom he chose to consult on 

 the occasion, of his before-named intention, he gave them to understand 

 that his choice had already fallen on Dorothy Langton, the daugh- 

 ter of a poor Goldsmith, and reputed papist, but, nevertheless, a maiden 

 of good fame, seemly bearing, and twenty-six years of age. She was 

 tall, fair, and well made, but with nothing striking about her face that 

 would call for particular description, unless one may advert to what 

 indeed was no part of her face an unusual breadth at the back part of her 



