admits us to Gray's Inn. It is not the original entrance, which was
round the corner in Portpool Lane, now called Gray's Inn Road. The Lords
Grey of Wilton obtained the Manor of Portpool at some remote period
from the Canon of St. Paul's, who held it; we have no direct evidence as
to whether the Canon had a house on the spot, but there are some traces
of a chapel and a chaplain. In 1315 Lord Grey gave some land in trust to
the Canons of St. Bartholomew to endow the chaplain in his mansion of
Portpool. From its situation near London, the ready access both to the
City and the country, with the fine views northward towards Hampstead
and Highgate, this must have been a more desirable place of residence
than even the neighbouring manor of the Bishop of Ely. It consisted in
the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries of a gate-house which faced
eastward, the chapel close to it on the left, and various other
buildings, some of them apparently forming separate houses, with
spacious gardens and a windmill. Here the Lords Grey lived for a couple
of centuries in great state, apparently letting or lending the smaller
houses to tenants or retainers--it would seem not unlikely to lawyers or
students of the law, possibly their own men of business. This is no mere
theory or guesswork. There has been too much conjecture about the early
history of Gray's Inn, and the sober-minded topographer is warned off at
the outset by a number of inconsistent assertions as to the early
existence here of a school of law. Dugdale tells us that the manor was
granted to the Priory of Shene in the reign of Henry VII., and after the
dissolution it was rented by a society of students of the law. A
fictitious list of Readers goes back to the reign of Edward III., but
will not bear critical examination. The lawyers paid a rent of £6 13s.
4d. to Henry VIII., and this charge passed into private hands by grant
of Charles II. The lawyers bought it from the heir of the first grantee,
and since 1733 have enjoyed the Inn rent-free. The opening into Holborn
was made on the purchase by the society, in 1594, of the Hart on the
Hoop, which then belonged to Fulwood, whose name is commemorated by
Fulwood's Rents, now nearly wiped out by a station of the Central London
Railway.
The chief entrance is by the archway in Holborn. In 1867 the old brick
arch was beplastered, obliterating a reminiscence of Dickens, who makes
David Copperfield and Dora lodge over it. A narrow road leads into South
Square, the north side of which is formed by the hall and library. The
houses round the east and south sides are of uniform design, with
handsome doorways. The hall has been much "restored," but was originally
built in the reign of Queen Mary. It has a modern Gothic porch, carved
with the griffin, which forms the coat armour of the Inn.
The interior of the hall has been renovated, having been much injured
in 1828, when the exterior was covered with stucco. The brick front is
again visible, and the panelling and roof within are of carved oak.
There are coats of arms in the windows, and on the walls hang portraits
of Charles I., Charles II., James II., and the two Bacons--father and
son--Sir Nicholas and Viscount St. Albans, who are the chief legal
luminaries of the "ancient and honourable society." The library, modern,
adjoins on the east, and contains a collection of important records and
printed books on law.
Passing through an arch at the western end of the hall, we enter Gray's
Inn Square, formerly Chapel Court. The chapel is close to the library on
the north side, and opens into Gray's Inn Square. This court was
probably open on the north side to the fields before the reign of
Charles II. Some of the buildings surrounding it are in a good Queen
Anne style, and some have the cross-mullioned windows of a still earlier
period. The exterior of the chapel is covered with stucco. The interior,
which is very small--there being only seating for a congregation of
about one hundred--was carefully examined three years ago, when a
proposal was made to build a new chapel. The Gothic windows, walled up
by the library to the south, came to light, and there seems some
probability that the building is mainly that of Lord Grey's chantry of
1315. Some improvements and repairs to the interior have saved the
little chapel for the present. There are no monuments visible, but four
Archbishops of Canterbury who were connected with the Inn are
commemorated in the east window. They were Whitgift (1583-1604), Juxon
(1660-1663), Wake (1715-1737), Laud (1633-1645), and in the centre
Becket, whose only claim to be in such a goodly company appears to be
that a window "gloriously painted," with the figure of St. Thomas of
London, was destroyed by Edward Hall, the Reader, in 1539, according to
the King's injunctions. A subsequent window, showing our Lord on the
Mount, had long disappeared, and some heraldry was all the east end of
the chapel could boast.
The gardens open by a handsome gate of wrought iron into Field Court,
which is westward of Gray's Inn Square. Here Bacon planted the trees,
and enjoyed the view northward, then all open, from a summer-house which
was only removed about 1754. Bacon lived in Coney Court, destroyed by
fire in 1678, which looked on the garden.
Among the names of eminent men which occur to the memory in Gray's Inn,
we must mention a tradition which makes Chief Justice Gascoigne a
student here. More real is Thomas Cromwell, the terrible Vicar-General
of Henry VIII. Sir Thomas Gresham was a member of the Inn, as was his
contemporary Camden, the antiquary. Lord Burghley and his second son,
Robert, Earl of Salisbury, were both members, it is said, but certainly
Burghley. The list of casual inhabitants is almost inexhaustible, being
swelled by the heroes of many novels, actually or entirely fictitious.
Shakespeare was said to have played in the hall. Bradshaw, who presided
at the trial of Charles I., was a bencher; and so was Holt, the Chief
Justice of William III. More eminent than either, perhaps, was Sir
Samuel Romilly, whose sad death in 1818 caused universal regret. Pepys
mentions the walks, and observed the fashionable beauties after church
one Sunday in May, 1662. Sir Roger de Coverley is placed on the terrace
by Addison, and both Dryden, Shadwell, and other old dramatists speak of
the gardens. It was at Gray's Inn Gate--the old gate into Portpool
Lane--that Jacob Tonson, the great bookseller and publisher of the
eighteenth century, had his shop.
The district northward of Gray's Inn needs very little comment. Great
St. James Street is picturesque, with eighteenth-century doorways and
carved brackets; the tenants of the houses are nearly all solicitors.
Little St. James Street is insignificant and diversified by mews. In
Strype's plan the rectangle formed by these two streets is marked
"Bowling Green"; in one corner is "the Cockpitt."
Bedford Row is a very quiet, broad thoroughfare lined by
eighteenth-century houses of considerable height and size, which for the
most part still retain their noble staircases and well-proportioned
rooms. Nearly every house is cut up into chambers. Abernethy, the great
surgeon, formerly lived in this street, and Addington, Viscount
Sidmouth, was born here; Bishop Warburton, the learned theologian and
writer of the eighteenth century, and Elizabeth, daughter of Oliver
Cromwell, are also said to have been among the residents. Ralph, the
author of "Publick Buildings," admired it prodigiously, naming it one of
the finest streets in London.
Red Lion Square took its name from a very well-known tavern in Holborn,
one of the largest and most notable of the old inns. There is a modern
successor, a Red Lion public-house, at the corner of Red Lion Street. To
the ancient inn the bodies of the regicides were brought the night
before they were dragged on hurdles to be exposed at Tyburn. This gave
rise to a tradition, which still haunts the spot, that some of these
men, including Cromwell, were buried in the Square, and that dummy
bodies were substituted to undergo the ignominy at Tyburn.
There was for many years in the centre of the Square an obelisk with the
inscription, "Obtusum Obtusioris Ingenii Monumentum Quid me respicis
viator? Vade." And an attempt has been made to read the mysterious
inscription as a Cromwellian epitaph. Pennant says that in his time the
obelisk had recently vanished, which gives the date of destruction about
1780.
The Square was built about 1698, and is curiously laid out, with streets
running diagonally from the corners as well as rectangularly from the
sides. It had formerly a watch-house at each corner, as well as the
obelisk in the centre. It is at present lined by brick houses of uniform
aspect and unequal heights, with here and there a conspicuously modern
building. The centre is laid out as a public garden, and forms a green
and pleasant oasis in a very poor district.
St. John the Evangelist's Church, of red brick, designed by Pearson,
stands at the south-west corner. It was built 1876-1878, and is very
conspicuous, with two pointed towers and a handsome, deeply-recessed
east window. Next door is the clergy house. There are in the Square
various associations and societies, including the Mendicity Society,
Indigent Blind Visiting Society, St. Paul's Hospital, and others. Milton
had a house which overlooked Red Lion Fields, the site of the Square,
and Jonas Hanway, traveller and philanthropist, also a voluminous
writer, but who will be best remembered as the first man in England to
carry an umbrella, died here in 1786. Sharon Turner, historian, came
here after his marriage in 1795, and Lord Chief Justice Raymond, who
held his high office in the reign of the first and second Georges, lived
in the Square. But a later association will, perhaps, be more
interesting to most people: for about three years previously to 1859 Sir
E. Burne-Jones and William Morris lived in rooms at No. 17, before
either was married.
Of the surrounding streets, those at the south-east and north-east
angles are the most quaint. An old house with red tiles stands at each
corner, and the remaining houses, though not so picturesque, are of
ancient date. The streets are mere flagged passages lined by open stalls
and little shops.
Kingsgate Street is so named because it had a gate at the end through
which the King used to pass to Newmarket. It is mentioned by Pepys, who
under date March 8, 1669, records that the King's coach was upset here,
throwing out Charles himself, the Dukes of York and Monmouth, and Prince
Rupert, who were "all dirt, but no hurt." Near the end of this street in
Holborn was the Vine Inn, important as having kept alive the only
reference in Domesday Book to this district, "a vineyard in Holborn"
belonging to the Crown.
Part of Theobald's Road was once King's Way; it was the direct route to
King James I.'s hunting-lodge, Theobald's, in Hertfordshire. It was in
this part, at what is now 22, Theobald's Road, that Benjamin Disraeli is
supposed to have been born; but many other places in the neighbourhood
also claim to be his birthplace, though not with so much authority.
There was a cockpit in this Road in the eighteenth century.
We are now in the diminutive parish of St. George the Martyr, carved out
of that of St. Andrew's, Holborn, and originally including Red Lion
Square and the streets adjacent.
Gloucester Street was named after Queen Anne's sickly little son, the
only one of her seventeen children who survived infancy. Robert Nelson,
author of "Fasts and Festivals," was at one time a resident. The street
is narrow and dirty, lined by old brick houses; here and there is a
carved doorway with brackets, showing that, like most streets in the
vicinity, it was better built than now inhabited, and it is probable
that where sickly children now sprawl on doorsteps stately ladies in
hoops and silken skirts once stepped forth. St. George's National
Schools are here, and a public-house with the odd name of Hole in the
Wall, a name adopted by Mr. Morrison in his recent novel about Wapping.
Queen Square was built in Queen Anne's reign, and named in her honour,
but it is a statue of Queen Charlotte that stands beneath the
plane-trees in the centre.
When it was first built, much eulogy was bestowed upon it, because of
the beautiful view to the Hampstead and Highgate Hills, for which reason
the north side was left open; it is still open, but the prospect it
commands is only the further side of Guilford Street. The Square is a
favourite place for charitable institutions. On the east side was, until
1902, a College for Working Men and Women, designed to aid by evening
classes the studies of those who are busy all day.
The Hospital for Paralysis and Epilepsy is on the same side. This was
instituted in 1859, but the present building was in 1885 opened by the
Prince of Wales, and is a memorial to the Duke of Albany, and a very
splendid memorial it is. The building, which occupies a very large space
along the side of the Square, is ornately built of red brick and
terra-cotta, with handsome balconies and a porch of the latter material.
There are four wards for men and five for women, with two small surgical
wards; also two contributing wards for patients who can afford to pay
something toward their expenses.
Almost exactly opposite, across the Square, is a new red-brick building.
This is the Alexandra Hospital, for children with hip disease, and
sometimes a wan little face peeps out of the windows.
On the south side is the Italian Hospital, lately rebuilt on a fine
scale. There are other institutions and societies in the Square, such as
the Royal Female School of Art, but none that call for any special
comment.
Among the eminent inhabitants of the Square were Dr. Stukeley, the
antiquary, appointed Rector of the church, 1747--he lived here from the
following year until his death in 1765; Dr. Askew; and John Campbell,
author, and friend of Johnson, who used to give Sunday evening
"conversation parties," where the great Doctor met "shoals of
Scotchmen."
The Church of St. George the Martyr stands on the west side of the
Square, facing the open space at the south end. It was founded in 1706
by private subscription as a chapel of ease to St. Andrew, and was named
in honour of one of the founders, who had been Governor of Fort George,
on the coast of Coromandel. "The Martyr" was added to distinguish it
from the other St. George in the vicinity. It was accepted as one of the
fifty new churches by the Commissioners in Queen Anne's reign, was
consecrated in 1723, and had a district assigned to it. It was entirely
rearranged and restored in 1868, and has lately been repainted. It is a
most peculiar-looking church, with a spire cased in zinc. Small figures
of angels embellish some points of vantage, and the symbols of the four
Evangelists appear in niches. The windows are round-headed, with tracery
of a peculiarly ugly type; but the interior is better than the exterior,
and has lately been repaired and redecorated throughout.
Powis House originally stood where Powis Place, Great Ormond Street, now
is. This was built by the second Marquis or Duke of Powis, even before
he had sold his Lincoln's Inn Fields house to the Duke of Newcastle, for
he was living here in 1708. The second Duke was, like his father, a
Jacobite, and had suffered much for his loyalty to the cause, having
endured imprisonment in the Tower, but he was eventually restored to his
position and estates. The house was burnt down in 1714, when the Duc
d'Aumont, French Ambassador, was tenant, and it was believed that the
fire was the work of an incendiary. The French King, Louis XIV., caused
it to be rebuilt at his own cost, though insurance could have been
claimed. In 1777 this later building was taken down.
Lord Chancellor Thurlow lived in this street at No. 46, and it was from
this house, now the Working Men's College, that the Great Seal was
stolen and never recovered.
Dr. Mead, a well-known physician, had a house here, afterwards occupied
by the Hospital for Sick Children.
The Working Men's College began at the instigation of a barrister in
1848, and was fathered by the Rev. F. D. Maurice, who was Principal
until his death. It grew rapidly, and in 1856 became affiliated to
London University. The adjacent house was bought, in 1870 additional
buildings were erected, and four years later the institution received a
charter of incorporation. Maurice was succeeded in the principalship by
Thomas Hughes, and Hughes by Lord Avebury, then Sir John Lubbock.
The Hospital for Sick Children is a red-brick building designed by Sir
C. Barry. Within, the wards are lined by glazed tiles, and the floors
are of parquet. Each ward is named after some member of the Royal
Family--Helena, Alice, etc. The children are received at any age, and
the beds are well filled. Everything, it is needless to say, is in the
beautifully bright and cleanly style which is associated with the modern
hospital. The chapel is particularly beautiful; it is the gift of Mr. W.
H. Barry, a brother of the architect, and the walls are adorned with
frescoes above inlaid blocks of veined alabaster.
The Homoeopathic Hospital, which is on the same side of the street
nearer to the Square, is another large and noticeable building. This is
the only hospital of the kind in London. The present building occupies
the site of three old houses, one of which was the residence of Zachary
Macaulay, father of the historian. There are in all seven wards, two for
men, three for women, one for girls, and one for children. The
children's ward is as pretty as any private nursery could be. The
hospital is absolutely free, and the out-patient department
exceptionally large.
In Great Ormond Street there are also one or two Benefit Societies,
Manchester Unity Independent Order of Oddfellows for the North London
District, and many sets of chambers. This district seems particularly
favourable to the growth of charitable institutions.
Lamb's Conduit Street is called after one Lamb, who built a conduit here
in 1577. This was a notable work in the days when the water-supply was a
very serious problem. Thus, a very curious name is accounted for in a
matter-of-fact way. In Queen Anne's time the fields around here formed a
favourite promenade for the citizens when the day's work was done.
The parish of St. George, Bloomsbury, which lies westward of St. George
the Martyr, is considerably larger than its neighbour. The derivation of
this name is generally supposed to be a corruption of Blemund's Fee,
from one William de Blemund, who was Lord of the Manor in Henry VI.'s
reign. Stow and others have written the word "Loomsbury," or
"Lomesbury," but this seems to be due to careless orthography, and not
to indicate any ancient rendering.
The earliest holder of the manor of whom we have any record is the De
Blemund mentioned above. There are intermediate links missing at a later
date, but with the possession of the Southampton family in the very
beginning of the seventeenth century the history becomes clear again. In
1668 the manor passed into the hands of the Bedfords by marriage with
the heiress of the Southamptons. This family also held St. Giles's,
which, it will be remembered, was originally also part of the Prebendary
of St. Paul's.
The Royal Mews was established at Bloomsbury (Lomesbury) from very early
times to 1537, when it was burnt down and the mews removed to the site
of the present National Gallery (see _The Strand_, same series).
The parish is largely composed of squares, containing three large and
two small ones, from which nearly all the streets radiate. The British
Museum forms an imposing block in the centre. This is on the site of
Montague House, built for the first Baron Montague, and burnt to the
ground in 1686. It was rebuilt again in great magnificence, with painted
ceilings, according to the taste of the time, and Lord Montague, then
Duke of Montague, died in it in 1709. The house and gardens occupied
seven acres. The son and heir of the first Duke built for himself a
mansion at Whitehall (see _Westminster_, same series, p. 83), and
Montague House was taken down in 1845, when the present buildings of the
Museum were raised in its stead.
The Museum has rather a curious history. Like many of our national
institutions, it was the result of chance, and not of a detailed scheme.
In 1753 Sir Hans Sloane, whose name is associated so strongly with
Chelsea, died, and left a splendid collection comprising "books,
drawings, manuscripts, prints, medals, seals, cameos, precious stones,
rare vessels, mathematical instruments, and pictures," which had cost
him something like £50,000. By his will Parliament was to have the first
refusal of this collection for £20,000. Though it was in the reign of
the needy George II., the sum was voted, and by the same Act was bought
the Harleian collection of MSS. to add to it; to this was added the
Cottonian Library of MSS., and the nation had a ready-made collection.
The money to pay for the Sloane and Harleian collections was raised by
an easy method of which modern morals do not approve--that is to say, by
lottery. Many suggestions were made as to the housing of this national
collection. Buckingham House, now Buckingham Palace, was spoken of,
also the old Palace Yard; of course, the modern Houses of Parliament
were not then built. Eventually Montague House was bought, and the
Museum was opened to the public in 1757. However, it had not ceased
growing. George III. presented some antiquities, which necessitated the
opening of a new department; to these were added the Hamilton and
Townley antiquities by purchase, and in 1816 the Elgin Marbles were
taken in temporarily. On the death of George III., George IV. presented
his splendid library, known as the King's Library, to the Museum, not
from any motive of generosity, but because he did not in the least
appreciate it. Greville, in his Journal (1823), says: "The King had even
a design of selling the library collected by the late King, but this he
was obliged to abandon, for the Ministers and the Royal Family must have
interposed to oppose so scandalous a transaction. It was therefore
presented to the British Museum."
It then became necessary to pull down Montague House and build a Museum
worthy of the treasures to be enshrined. Sir Robert Smirke was the
architect, and the present massive edifice is from his designs. The
buildings cost more than £800,000.
As this is no guide-book, no attempt is made to classify the departments
of the Museum or to indicate its riches. These may be found by
experiment, or read in the official guides to be bought on the spot.
On the east is Montague Street, running into Russell Square.
Southampton House, the ancient manor-house, celebrated for the famous
lime-trees surrounding it, stood on the ground now occupied by Bedford
Place. Noorthouck describes it as "elegant though low, having but one
storey." It is commonly supposed to have been the work of Inigo Jones.
When the property came into the Bedford family, it was occasionally
called Russell House, after their family name. Maitland says that, when
he wrote, one of the Parliamentary forts, two batteries, and a
breastwork, remained in the garden. The house was demolished in 1800,
and Russell Square was begun soon after. A double row of the lime-trees
belonging to Bedford House had extended over the site of this Square.
All this ground had previously been known as Southampton Fields, or Long
Fields, and was the resort of low classes of the people, who here fought
their pitched battles, generally on Sundays. It was known during the
period of Monmouth's Rebellion as the Field of the Forty Footsteps,
owing to the tradition that two brothers killed each other here in a
duel, while the lady who was the cause of the conflict looked on.
Subsequently no grass grew on the spots where the brothers had planted
their feet.
Southey, in his "Commonplace Book," thus narrates his own visit to the
spot:
"We sought for near half an hour in vain. We could find no steps at
all within a quarter of a mile, no, nor half a mile, of Montague
House. We were almost out of hope, when an honest man, who was at
work, directed us to the next ground, adjoining to a pond. There we
found what we sought, about three-quarters of a mile north of
Montague House, and 500 yards east of Tottenham Court Road. The
steps are of the size of a large human foot, about three inches
deep, and lie nearly from north-east to south-west. We counted only
seventy-six; but we were not exact in counting. The place where one
or both the brothers are supposed to have fallen is still bare of
grass. The labourer also showed us where (the tradition is) the
wretched woman sat to see the combat." Southey adds his full
confidence in the tradition of the indestructibility of the steps,
even after ploughing up, and of the conclusions to be drawn from
the circumstance (_Notes and Queries_, No. 12).
A long-forgotten novel, called "Coming Out; or, The Field of the Forty
Footsteps," was founded on this legend, as was also a melodrama.