It was a sort of cooking-room, with an immense fire-place flanked by a couple of cauldrons, and was called Jack Ketch's Kitchen, because the quarters of persons executed for treason were there boiled by the hangman in oil, pitch, and tar, before they were affixed on the city gates, or on London Bridge. ‘I told her you couldn’t have been flirting, but she wouldn’t believe me. Brendon went for the doctor,” Anna answered. ‘It is seldom enough I am visited by anyone at all, let alone a personable young redcoat. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look.
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