Free Lost London by Richard Guard Page A

on Tower Hill in 1554, his
head remained well preserved and was displayed in a glass case by the pulpit for some time. Holy Trinity’s long history only came to an end when it was destroyed by enemy bombing during the
Second World War.
Horn Fair

    Charlton
    T HIS FAIR , WHICH STARTED FROM C UCKOLD ’ S Point in Rotherhithe, was always a
raucous and drunken affair, as might be expected of a celebration of illicit sexual relations.
    Though disputed, the story of the fair’s origins tells how King John, who reigned from 1199 to 1216, was hunting one day around Blackheath and Shooters Hill. Growing
tired, he entered the house of a miller but no one was home except the miller’s lovely young wife. Being a lusty young chap, John successfully set about wooing the lady but they were caught
in flagrante by the returning miller.
    Swearing to kill the interloper, the miller drew his daggerand prepared to dispatch the unfortunate king, who was forced to reveal his identity to save his life. To placate
the furious miller, John promised him all the land he could see on condition that he forgave his wife. Cuckold’s Point marked the western limit of the miller’s vision.
    The people of the area were keen to tease their new overlord so held a celebration of the event on its anniversary, 18 October, the feast day of St Luke. They started their parade from
Cuckold’s Point, marked by a post bearing a pair of horns, and marched to Charlton village, where the real fun began.
    The symbol of the horns had long been associated with those jealous and cheated in love, so the fair-goers all carried, wore or blew horns. Trinkets were sold (all made of horn, of course) and
the fair became notorious for its drunken flirtations, with cross-dressing a far from unusual sight. In the early 18 century, Daniel Defoe described the goings-on at Charlton:
    A village famous, or rather infamous for the yearly collected rabble of mad-people, at Horn-Fair; the rudeness of which I cannot but think, is such as ought to be suppressed, and indeed in a
civiliz’d well govern’d nation, it may well be said to be unsufferable. The mob indeed at that time take all kinds of liberties, and the women are especially impudent for that day; as
if it was a day that justify’d the giving themselves a loose to all manner of indecency and immodesty, without any reproach, or without suffering the censure which such behaviour would
deserve at another time.
    Completely at odds with Victorian mores, the fair was suppressed in 1874. A somewhat pale imitation of the original was reintroduced in the 1970s, providing a nice family day out rather than
anything more ribald.
Islington Spa, or the new Tunbridge Wells

    T HIS WAS A CHALYBEATE SPRING ( I.E. ONE containing much iron) that was discovered in 1683 by a Mr Sadler, surveyor of highways,
    in the grounds of the music hall he had just opened.
    A pamphlet was written claiming that the waters were holy and had been famed for their healing powers until the knowledge of their properties was lost. Analysis conducted by
the eminent scientist, Robert Boyle, showed the waters to be similar to the those at Tunbridge Wells.
    The spa was soon attracting hypochondriacs from across the capital and by 1700 was quite the place to go. George Coleman gave his take on it in his 1776 farce, The Spleen; or, Islington
Spa:
    Gout hobbled there; Rheumatism groaned over his ferruginous water; severe coughs went arm-in-arm, chuckling as they hobbled; as for Hypochondria, he cracked jokes, he was in such high spirits
at the thought of the new remedy.
    In 1733 the Princesses Amelia and Caroline visited daily to drink the waters, and on their birthdays, as tradition dictated, they were saluted by 21 guns in Spa Fields as they passed. By now the
business was attracting 1500 people daily, taking £30 per morning alone. A poem lauding the restorative qualities of the spring was hung in a local lodging house:
    For three times ten years I