It seems but the other day this old suburban church was pleasantly surrounded by green fields and quiet hedgerows; but now the mammoth magnitude of this great city—the modern Babylon—has stretched itself in this direction, as in all others; and St. Pancras’ fields, with their rows of goodly elms, and pleasant meandering footpaths leading to the then village church, exist only as a pleasant memory. Surrounded by houses, the old church seems out of place, and might be passed as little worthy attention. Still are there facts worth noting in its history, and that of the locality in which it stands—and associations which may serve to prompt more than a passing thought. The whole of this neighbourhood is linked by tradition with a deadly fight between the Britons and their invaders, when seventy thousand men were said to have been slain at “Battle-bridge.” Modern fashion has attempted to get rid of the old Saxon name which serves to keep this struggle in remembrance, by christening the locality in courtly guise, King’s Cross—erecting, too, in the centre of the road an architectural hybrid, the use of which could never be discovered, unless built there for omnibuses to run against. All round Battle-bridge traces of entrenchments have been found, running up close to the old church; some of them, called the Brill, occupied the pen of the learned and ingenious Stukely. During the civil wars, also, this spot again became the seat of armed entrenchments, and the Royalists and Parliamentarians occupied the ground which more than a thousand years earlier had been trodden by the armed legions of Rome, and the comparatively defenceless Britons.

Crossing London-bridge to Southwark, the church of St. Mary Overy, or St. Saviour’s, on the right hand, divides attention with the first glimpse of the noble Hospitals which attest so proudly the charitable munificence of our country. Southwark, as early as any accounts exist of London, was a place of some importance; and on the marching of the Conqueror to the metropolis it had the misfortune to be selected for burning, by way of example to the inhabitants on the London side, who were somewhat disinclined to favour the pretensions of William. The site of the present church was, at an early period, that of the Priory of St. Mary Overy; of this considerable remains still exist, and, indeed, portions of the present building formed a part of it. The priory was twice destroyed by fire, and the present church was most probably (there are no positive records) built in the reign of Henry IV. At the dissolution of monasteries it was surrendered to Henry, purchased from him by the good folks of Southwark, and converted into a parish church. An act of Parliament afterwards united it with that of St. Margaret-at-Hill, and changed its old Saxon name of St. Mary Overy into that of St. Saviour’s, Southwark.

The improvements which originated in the Regency of George the Fourth, and converted Swallow-street, with its filthy labyrinthine environs, into the moet picturesque avenue of the metropolis, may be considered as the first step in the march of architectural embellishment which is now visible from the western entrance to Babylon the Great, at Hyde-park-corner, to the “far east,” where sits the old lady of Threadneedle-street, rubbing her eyes and spectacles in astonishment at finding herself the heart and centre of a city of palaces.

Where has commerce such a mart,
So rich, so thronged, so drained, and so supplied,
As LONDON—opulent, enlarged, and still
Increasing London? Babylon of old
Not more the glory of the earth than she,
A more accomplished world’s chief glory now!