Tales of London

Much in the same way that most people can only remember the first five gifts in The Twelve Days of Christmas, the first two lines of the nursery rhyme Oranges & Lemons are often sung wholeheartedly and then the words become a bit of a mumble thereafter. Naming some of the greatest church bells in the City of London and its environs, the traditional lyrics are:

Oranges and lemons,
Say the bells of St. Clement's.
You owe me five farthings,
Say the bells of St. Martin's.
When will you pay me?
Say the bells at Old Bailey.
When I grow rich,
Say the bells at Shoreditch.
When will that be?
Say the bells of Stepney.
I do not know,
Says the great bell at Bow.
Here comes a candle to light you to bed,
And here comes a chopper to chop off your head!
Chip chop chip chop the last man is dead.

Like most nursery rhymes, Oranges & Lemons is claimed by many to have sinister undertones: child sacrifice, public execution, even as a reference to the beheadings of Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, two of Henry VIII’s wives. But those final three sadistic lines are rarely sung, and the rhyme’s first ever appearance in print – in Tommy Thumb’s Pretty Song Book of 1744 ­– doesn’t include them at all:

Two Sticks and Apple,
Ring ye Bells at Whitechapple,
Old Father Bald Pate,
Ring ye Bells Aldgate,
Maids in White Aprons,
Ring ye Bells a St. Catherines,
Oranges and Lemons,
Ring ye bells at St. Clements,
When will you pay me,
Ring ye Bells at ye Old Bailey,
When I am Rich,
Ring ye Bells at Fleetditch,
When will that be,
Ring ye Bells at Stepney,
When I am Old,
Ring ye Bells at Pauls.

Only the latter half of the original nursery rhyme is still sung, and even then the names of some of the churches have been altered. The contenders for the churches in the contemporary version are:

Oranges and Lemons, Say the bells of St. Clement’s

There are two contenders for this crown. The Church of St. Clement Danes stands on a traffic island on the east end of Aldwych, and is the Central Church of the Royal Air Force. Every April a service to St. Clement is held, after which oranges and lemons are distributed to the girls and boys in the congregation. Occasionally the church bells are even rung to the tune of Oranges & Lemons. The more credible location however is the Church of St. Clement Eastcheap: ‘cheap’ being the old English word for a market, and citrus fruits that had been unloaded onto the wharves around nearby London Bridge could have been sold on Eastcheap. And before somebody points out the Clement/clementine connection, that particular variety of orange wasn’t first cultivated until the late nineteenth century.

I owe you five farthings, Say the bells of St. Martin’s

Often thought to be the bells of St. Martin-in-the-Fields next to Trafalgar Square, so named because when it was created as a parish in the eleventh century the area was still rural. They could also be the bells of St. Martin Orgar, which stood just to the south of St. Clement Eastcheap on the other side of what is now Cannon Street. Almost completely destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666, the parish was merged with that of St. Clement and the surviving building was used by French Protestants until 1820 when it was then demolished.

When will you pay me? Say the bells at Old Bailey

The Old Bailey courthouse doesn’t have its own bells; instead these refer to the bells of St. Sepulchre-without-Newgate which stands just over the road on Holborn Viaduct. I wrote more on the grisly history of St. Sepulchre and its tolling bells here.

When I am rich, Say the bells at Shoreditch

The church of St. Leonard’s Shoreditch – often referred to simply as ‘the Shoreditch Church’ – can be found on Shoreditch High Street. The village whipping post and stocks can still be found in the churchyard, a reminder of when Shoreditch was a parish outside of London.

When will that be? Say the bells of Stepney

St. Dunstan’s on Stepney High Street, said to be the Mother Church of the East End. Dunstan was a tenth century Bishop of London and Archbishop of Canterbury who is supposedly the origin of the lucky horseshoe – you can read more about that tale here.

I do not know, Says the great bell at Bow

The fifty-eight hundredweight – almost three tonne – bell of St. Mary-le-Bow on Cheapside; this was destroyed in the Second World War, but the church’s largest bell still weighs forty-one hundredweight (two tonnes). The famous Bow Bells were said to have called Dick Whittington back to London from Highgate to become Lord Mayor four times over, and if you’re born within the sound of them you are a true cockney. But whereas you could once hear the Bow Bells five miles away in Leyton, due to noise pollution and urban expansion they can now only be heard as far as Shoreditch one mile away – and there are no maternity wards within their range, so the only way to be a true cockney today is to have a home birth or be born in the back of the taxi on the way to the hospital.

So what exactly is the origin and significance of the lyrics to Oranges & Lemons? The answer is…nobody really knows. The first recorded lyrics in 1744 are different to the ones we know today, and no doubt they were different prior to that as well. But at least now you can feel smug by knowing all the words.

For more stories about the bizarre and quirky history of the capital, check out my other articles, or click here to subscribe to future updates!