LITTLE BRITAIN

by Washington Irving


What I write is most true...I have a whole booke of cases lying by me
which if I should sette foorth, some grave auntients (within the hearing
of Bow bell) would be out of charity with me.
--NASHE.


In the centre of the great city of London lies a small neighborhood,
consisting of a cluster of narrow streets and courts, of very venerable
and debilitated houses, which goes by the name of LITTLE BRITAIN. Christ
Church School and St. Bartholomew's Hospital bound it on the west;
Smithfield and Long Lane on the north; Aldersgate Street, like an arm
of the sea, divides it from the eastern part of the city; whilst the
yawning gulf of Bull-and-Mouth Street separates it from Butcher Lane,
and the regions of Newgate. Over this little territory, thus bounded and
designated, the great dome of St. Paul's, swelling above the intervening
houses of Paternoster Row, Amen Corner, and Ave Maria Lane, looks down
with an air of motherly protection.

This quarter derives its appellation from having been, in ancient times,
the residence of the Dukes of Brittany. As London increased, however,
rank and fashion rolled off to the west, and trade, creeping on at their
heels, took possession of their deserted abodes. For some time Little
Britain became the great mart of learning, and was peopled by the busy
and prolific race of booksellers; these also gradually deserted it, and,
emigrating beyond the great strait of Newgate Street, settled down