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Updated: September 24, 2025
From these Bars in Goswell Street, where the manor of Finsbury begins, the line extends by Golden Lane to the posts and chain in Whitecross Street, and from thence to the posts and chain in Grub Street; and then runs through Ropemakers Alley to the posts and chain in the highway from Moorgate, and from thence by the north side of Moorfields; after which it runs northwards to Nortonfalgate, meeting with the bars in Bishopsgate Street, and from thence runs eastward into Spittlefields, abutting all along upon Nortonfalgate.
The meeting was called to consider the erection of a public monument as a memorial of the achievements of Lord Nelson. The Duke of Wellington was in the chair, and the great room was crowded to overflowing. The amount collected was about £300, of which Sir Moses gave £15, 15s., in addition to £5 which he had given previously. Friday, August 3rd. He visited Whitecross Street Prison and Newgate.
He then proceeded to Whitecross Prison, and gave Mr Barrett, the governor, a cheque for £20 for distribution among such cases of distress as he thought most deserving. There are entries in the diary which show that on many occasions Mr Montefiore did not leave the Old Bailey before nine o'clock in the evening. "Sometimes," he remarks, "the duties of Shrievalty cause me much trouble."
"Like honey from the honeycomb That dreepeth, sweeter far." My lady was now fairly launched, and that upon two congenial subjects: the deficiencies of the Lady Whitecross and the turpitudes of the whole Crozer race which, indeed, had never been conspicuous for respectability.
But I'll give the benefit of my opinions to Lady Whitecross when we two forgather. Let her look to herself! I have no patience with half-hearted carlines, that complies on the Lord's day morning with the kirk, and comes taigling the same night to the conventicle. The one or the other! is what I say: hell or heaven Haddie's abominations or the pure word of God dreeping from the lips of Mr. Arnot,
But I'll give the benefit of my opinions to Lady Whitecross when we two forgather. Let her look to herself! I have no patience with half-hearted carlines, that complies on the Lord's day morning with the kirk, and comes taigling the same night to the conventicle. The one or the other! is what I say: hell or heaven- -Haddie's abominations or the pure word of God dreeping from the lips of Mr. Arnot,
"'Like honey from the honeycomb That dreepeth, sweeter far." My lady was now fairly launched, and that upon two congenial subjects: the deficiencies of the Lady Whitecross and the turpitudes of the whole Crozer race which, indeed, had never been conspicuous for respectability.
It was entitled Workers in the Dawn, and is distinguished by the fact that the author writes himself George Robert Gissing; afterwards he saw fit to follow the example of George Robert Borrow, and in all subsequent productions assumes the style of 'George Gissing. The book begins in this fashion: 'Walk with me, reader, into Whitecross Street.
A neighbour and acquaintance of mine, having some money owing to him from a shopkeeper in Whitecross Street or thereabouts, sent his apprentice, a youth about eighteen years of age, to endeavour to get the money.
For many a month and year the refrain, a play upon the Bride's name, kept singing itself through my memory: "Long may the Whitecross banner wave, By the battle blasts unriven; Long may our Brother and Sister brave Rejoice in the light of Heaven."
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