At that time Stamford
Hill was crowned with a grove of trees, and its eastern declivity was
overgrown with brushwood. The whole country, on the Essex side, was more
or less marshy, until Epping Forest, some three miles off, was reached.
Through a swampy vale on the left, the river Lea, so dear to the angler,
took its slow and silent course; while through a green valley on the
right, flowed the New River, then only just opened. Pointing out the
latter channel to Jocelyn, Dick Taverner, who had now come up, informed
him that he was present at the completion of that important undertaking.
And a famous sight it was, the apprentice said. The Lord Mayor of
London, the Aldermen, and the Recorder were all present in their robes
and gowns to watch the floodgate opened, which was to pour the stream
that had run from Amwell Head into the great cistern near Islington. And
this was done amidst deafening cheers and the thunder of ordnance.
"A proud day it was for Sir Hugh Myddleton," Dick added; "and some
reward for his perseverance through difficulties and disappointments."
"It is to be hoped the good gentleman has obtained more substantial
reward than that," Jocelyn replied. "He has conferred an inestimable
boon upon his fellow-citizens, and is entitled to their gratitude for
it."
"As to gratitude on the part of the citizens, I can't say much for
that, Sir. And it is not every man that meets with his desserts, or we
know where our friends Sir Giles Mompesson and Sir Francis Mitchell
would be.
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