Here and there in London by James Ewing Ritchie

The London public are not of the opinion of Shelley, that flesh of bullocks and sheep, when properly cooked, is the true cause of original sin, and that to regain the innocence of the Garden of Eden we have but to have recourse solely to a vegetarian diet. This doctrine has never been a popular one, and from the earliest time the contrary has found favour in the eyes of men. With what gusto does Homer describe the banquets before the walls of Troy, when heroes were the guests, and where divine Achilles was the head cook! The custom of eating baked and boiled is one of the few good things we have to thank antiquity for. Our jolly Scandinavian forefathers considered eating horse rump steak a sign of orthodox paganism; and at this very moment, if the _Times_ be a correct index of the national sentiment, the great question that agitates the mind of the middle class public, that public in which, according to general opinion, all the piety, and patriotism, and wisdom of the land is concentrated, is not as to peace or war -- not as to Reform or Social Science -- or education or religion -- not as to how the vice and impiety of the day may be grappled with and reclaimed -- but as to how a man may genteelly dine his friends, and, with an income of a few hundreds, provide a repast that shall rival that of one whose income consists of as many thousands. Really, the force of folly can no further go. Hence, then, it is clear that to the present customs of society a cattle-market of some kind is essential. At one time it was held in Smithfield. There it was a dangerous nuisance. The wise men of London did as they generally do in such matters -- first denied that it was a nuisance at all, and when they were driven from that position, and compelled to yield to public indignation, moved it a little further off.

It is early morn, and we wend our way to the New Cattle-market, in Holloway, near the model gaol, and lying in that _terra incognita_ stretching away to Camden-town and the steep of Highgate-hill, where juvenile cockneys some thirty years ago played, and called the waste Copenhagen-fields. There the New Cattle-market is erected. In shape it consists of a long square, if I may be allowed such an expression, on every side surrounded with lofty walls, and covers many acres of ground. In the centre of the market is a lofty clock-tower, and around it are shops devoted to the sale of horse gear and cattle-physic, and the banking-houses, where the cattle are paid for and the money deposited, chief amongst which is that of an active alderman of the city of London, and ex-Lord Mayor and M. P. The animals are ranged in pairs, others tied to rails all around; and on the other side are layers, where the animals that are not sold are lodged on payment of a trifling sum, and slaughtering-houses. The salesmen, who are the middle-men, receive the cattle from the drover, and sell them to the butcher, and pay the money into the bank. The extent of the market is about ten acres. The market is the property of the Corporation, who exact a toll of 3.5d. for each beast, and 4d. a score of sheep; then there is a further charge of 1s. a pen. As there are 1,800 pens and 1,450 rails, this rent must amount to a respectable sum. In round numbers, the accommodation provided is for 25,000 sheep and 7,300 beasts. The summer is the best time for seeing the market, as in the winter months it is not so numerously attended. The market opens at two, A. M., and closes at two, P. M. Any buying and selling after that hour is most strictly prohibited. The entrance into the market is not open, as in Smithfield, but through iron gates, guarded by vigilant police.