chapter 4, as being within hearing at the offices of that important firm.

Passing on, and crossing to the north side of the thoroughfare, we arrive at King Street (turning by No. 92), at the top of which is The Guildhall. In the City Court attached thereto, that memorable case for breach of promise of marriage, “Bardell _v._ Pickwick,” was contested, on which occasion _Mr. Weller_, _senr._, emphatically insisted (from the body of the Court) on Sam’s spelling his name with a “we,” and afterwards much deplored the absence of certain technical defence on Mr. Pickwick’s behalf—“Oh, Sammy, Sammy, vy vorn’t there a alleybi?” Are not all these and other particulars written in the chronicles of the “Pickwick Papers”?—See chapter 34.

Resuming the promenade of Cheapside (still in the reverse direction of the progress of Lord George Gordon and his escort), we come into the Poultry, at the farther end, passing a turning on the left therefrom, known as GROCERS’ HALL COURT. It will be remembered that on one occasion when Mr. Pickwick desired a quiet glass of brandy and water, Sam Weller, whose “knowledge of London was extensive and peculiar,” led the way from the Mansion House, proceeding by the second court on the right, to the last house but one on the same side of the way, where he directed his master to

“Take the box as stands in the first fireplace, ’cos there a’n’t no leg in the middle of the table.”

In pursuance of these explicit instructions, we shall find that this house is now in possession of Mr. Sheppard, gasfitter, but it is recollected that it was, aforetime, a restaurant of the old-fashioned sort. Mr. Weller, the elder, was here introduced to his son’s patron, and thereupon arranged for Mr. Pickwick’s journey to Ipswich. At the end of the Poultry we next approach, on the right, The Mansion House, mentioned in “Barnaby Rudge” as the residence of the Mayor of London. We read of this civic potentate in the pages of “The Christmas Carol,” when, one Christmas Eve,

“The Lord Mayor, in the stronghold of the mighty Mansion House, gave orders to his fifty cooks and butlers to keep Christmas as a Lord Mayor’s household should.”

_Mark Tapley_ also—in America—once made jocose reference to this location. When speaking of Queen Victoria, he informed certain members of the Watertoast Association to the following effect:—

“She has lodgings, in virtue of her office, with the Lord Mayor at the Mansion House, but don’t often occupy them, in consequence of the parlour chimney smoking.”

Messrs. Dombey and Son had their offices in the City, within the sound of Bow Bells, and not far from the Mansion House. Their position was probably in proximity to _The Royal Exchange_, but the address cannot be definitely indicated. Here Mr. Carker, the manager, reigned supreme, and schemed for his own aggrandisement, regardless of the prosperity of the house.

The name of the firm is still perpetuated in the City, and the thriving establishment of the well-known merchant tailors—DOMBEY & SON—will be found at No. 120 _Cheapside_, at which a large and well-conducted business is carried on.

From this point we may conveniently visit “His Lordship’s Larder” (at three minutes’ distance), Cheapside, where we may advantageously refresh, “rest, and be thankful.”

RAMBLE III _Charing Cross to Thavies Inn_, _Holborn Circus_

South-Eastern Terminus—Spa Road Station—Jacob’s Island; Sykes’s last Refuge—Butler’s Wharf, formerly Quilp’s Wharf—Quilp’s House, Tower Hill—Trinity House and Garden; Bella Wilfer’s Waiting-place—Southwark Bridge; Little Dorrit’s Promenade—The General Post Office—Falcon Hotel, Falcon Square; John Jasper’s patronage—Little Britain; Office of Mr. Jaggers—Smithfield—Newgate Prison; Pip’s description in “Great Expectations”—The Old Bailey Criminal Court, as per “Tale of Two Cities”—The Saracen’s Head; Associations with Nicholas Nickleby—Clerkenwell Green; Oliver Twist and his Companions—Scene of the Robbery—Line of Route taken by Oliver and “The Artful Dodger” from the Angel to Saffron Hill—Hatton Garden Police Court; Administration of Mr. Fang—Great Saffron Hill and Field Lane—Fagin’s House and the “Three Cripples”—Bleeding Hart Yard; Factory of Doyce and Clennam; the Plornish Family—Ely Place—Thavies Inn; Mrs. Jellyby’s Residence.

From the SOUTH-EASTERN TERMINUS at Charing Cross there are frequent trains by which the Rambler can travel to _Spa Road Station_, _Bermondsey_ (about twenty minutes’ ride), from which point the situation of what was once Jacob’s Island may be conveniently visited. This place was associated with the adventures of _Oliver Twist_, being the last refuge to which _Sykes_, the murderer of _Nancy_, betook himself on his return to London, and where he met a righteous retribution when attempting his escape. It is described by Dickens—nearly sixty years since—as being

“Near to that part of the Thames on which the church at Rotherhithe abuts, where the buildings on the banks are dirtiest, and the vessels on the river blackest, with the dust of colliers and the smoke of close-built, low-roofed houses. In such a neighbourhood, beyond Dockhead, in the borough of Southwark, stands Jacob’s Island, surrounded by a muddy ditch, six or eight feet deep, and fifteen or twenty wide when the tide is in, once called Mill Pond, but known in the days of this story as Folly Ditch.”

Arriving at _Spa Road_, the explorer turns left and right by the short routes of _West Street South_, _Fream Street_, and _Rouel Road_, into _Jamaica Road_ (five minutes from station); passing from the opposite side of which, through _Parker’s Row_ to the thoroughfare of _Dockhead_, he will find himself face to face with a tavern on the north side, named “The Swan and Sugar Loaf.” A short cut on the right of this house leads immediately to LONDON STREET, its northern side forming the south boundary of the old site of Jacob’s Island. _Folly Ditch_, flowing from the Thames through Mill Street, took its course through London Street (it has been filled in since 1851); and in these streets wooden bridges crossed to the Island, and “crazy wooden galleries, common to the backs of half-a-dozen houses”—referred to by the novelist—used to “ornament the banks of Folly Ditch.” To the right we pass into _George Row_, enclosing Jacob’s Island (east), and may note _en passant_ the blocks of workmen’s dwellings, erected 1883, named “Wolseley’s Buildings,” which occupy the site of the old Island on its eastern side. From George Row we turn (right) into _Jacob Street_, north of the Island, by which we come into _Mill Street_ (west); again returning to _London Street_, and so completing the circumnavigation of this interesting locality. Some of the old wooden erections still exist in _Farthing Alley_, _Halfpenny Alley_, and _Edward Street_, which intersect the area. In his preface to the first cheap edition of “Oliver Twist,” the author makes a further reference, as follows:—

“In the year one thousand eight hundred and fifty, it was publicly declared in London by an amazing alderman, that Jacob’s Island did not exist, and never had existed. Jacob’s Island continues to exist (like an ill-bred place as it is) in the year one thousand eight hundred and sixty-seven, though improved and much changed.”

Starting westward from “The Swan and Sugar Loaf,” we now proceed through _Thornton Street_, and turn to the right, by one block in the street beyond, into _Queen Street_, which leads directly north to the riverside. At the end of this street is the locality of Quilp’s Wharf and place of business, aforetime described in the pages of “The Old Curiosity Shop”:—

“A small, rat-infested, dreary yard, in which were a little wooden counting-house, burrowing all awry in the dust as if it had fallen from the clouds, and ploughed into the ground; a few fragments of rusty anchors, several large iron rings, some piles of rotten wood, and two or three heaps of old sheet copper—crumpled, cracked, and battered.”

The place has been altogether altered and improved during the last forty years, and is now known as “Butler’s Wharf,” but the original prototype of Quilp is still remembered by some of the older residents of the neighbourhood.

The westward route being continued by the side of the river, we walk through _Shad Thames_ and _Pickle Herring Street_ (underneath an archway) to _Vine Street_, where is the southern entrance of the _Tower Subway_, by which we may cross below the river to the other side. Emerging near the Tower, Quilp’s House, on Tower Hill, is near at hand. No. 6 Tower Dock, facing the public entrance to the Tower, is said to have comprised the lodging assigned by Dickens for the accommodation of Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Quilp and Mrs. Jiniwin. We may here recall the matrons’ tea-meeting, as described in chapter 4 of “The Old Curiosity Shop,” when Quilp’s conduct as a husband was freely discussed, and much good advice tendered to Mrs. Quilp for the true assertion of her rights and dignity. Also the notable occasion when, the master of the house being missing and thought to be drowned, _Mr. Sampson Brass_ was in consultation, and the party were unpleasantly surprised, as they were preparing a descriptive advertisement, by the sudden appearance of the Dwarf, as lively and sarcastic as ever.

“A question now arises with regard to his nose. ‘Flat,’ said Mrs. Jiniwin. ‘Aquiline!’ cried Quilp, thrusting in his head, and striking the feature with his fist. ‘Aquiline, you hag. Do you see it? Do you call this flat? Do you? Eh?’”

Hard by this locality stands Trinity House, Tower Hill, with its garden in front, and it may be remembered that _Mr. Wilfer_ suggested this neighbourhood as a waiting-place for Bella, on the occasion of their “innocent elopement” to Greenwich, while he should array himself in new garments at her expense, to do honour to the expedition. We now turn westward by _Tower Street_, and may save time by taking train at _Mark Lane Station_ for the Mansion House, about ten minutes’ ride. On arrival at the Mansion House Station we shall find _Queen Street_ close at hand, leading riverwards to Southwark Bridge, referred to in “Little Dorrit” as the Iron Bridge. This was Amy Dorrit’s favourite promenade, it being quieter than many of the neighbouring thoroughfares; and we may recall the scene when young _John Chivery_ was obliged to take no for an answer, when he attempted the proffer of his hand and heart.

Proceeding onwards through _Cannon Street_, we turn to the right through _St. Paul’s Churchyard_, crossing Cheapside to the stately edifice of the General Post Office, _St. Martin’s-le-Grand_. This building, in the times of “Nicholas Nickleby,” occasioned honest John Browdie some surprise:—

“Wa-at dost thee tak’ yon place to be, noo, that ’un ower the wa’? Ye’d never coom near it, gin ye thried for twolve moonths. It’s na but a Poast-office. Ho, ho! they need to charge for double latthers. A Poast-office! What dost thee think of that? Ecod, if that’s on’y a Poast-office, loike to see where the Lord Mayor o’ Lunnon lives!”

_Aldersgate Street_ leads northward from St. Martin’s-le-Grand; passing the first block in which, _Falcon Street_ turns on the right (No. 16) towards _Falcon Square_, a small city piazza, where may be found (No. 8) The Falcon Hotel. This is the place at which John Jasper sojourned when visiting London. In “The Mystery of Edwin Drood” we read the following commendation of the house in question:—

“It is hotel, boarding-house, or lodging-house at its visitor’s option. It announces itself, in the new Railway advertisers, as a novel enterprise, timidly beginning to spring up. It bashfully, almost apologetically, gives the traveller to understand that it does not expect him, on the good old constitutional hotel plan, to order a pint of sweet blacking for his drinking, and throw it away; but insinuates that he may have his boots blacked instead of his stomach, and may also have bed, breakfast, attendance, and a porter up all night, for a certain fixed charge.”

Returning to Aldersgate Street, we shall find that the opposite turning, leading to Smithfield, is _Little Britain_. In “Great Expectations” we learn that the Offices of Mr. Jaggers, the Old Bailey lawyer, were here situated, in near proximity to Bartholomew Close; but the house cannot be precisely indicated. Here _Mr. Wemmick_ assisted his Principal in the details of his professional business. He may be remembered as having a decided preference for “portable property.”

Proceeding onward by _Duke Street_, the visitor will shortly come into Smithfield, a locality which is considerably changed since the days when Pip first arrived in London. He says—

“When I told the clerk that I would take a turn in the air while I waited, he advised me to go round the corner and I should come into Smithfield. So I came into Smithfield; and the shameful place, being all asmear with filth, and fat, and blood, and foam, seemed to stick to me. So, I rubbed it off with all possible speed by turning into a street where I saw the great black dome of Saint Paul’s bulging at me from behind a grim stone building which a bystander said was Newgate Prison.”

Adopting the same line of route, the Rambler may pass the south front of the Metropolitan Meat Market, turning to the left by St. Bartholomew’s Hospital into _Giltspur Street_, which leads to Newgate Street, and faces on the opposite corner of Old Bailey Newgate Prison. In “Great Expectations,” Pip describes his visit to the interior, at the invitation and in the company of Mr. Wemmick:—

“We passed through the Lodge, where some fetters were hanging up, on the bare walls among the prison rules, into the interior of the jail. At that time jails were much neglected, and the period of exaggerated reaction consequent on all public wrong-doing—and which is always its longest and heaviest punishment—was still far off. So, felons were not lodged and fed better than soldiers (to say nothing of paupers), and seldom set fire to their prisons with the excusable object of improving the flavour of their soup. It was visiting-time when Wemmick took me in, and a potman was going his rounds with beer, and the prisoners behind bars in yards were buying beer and talking to friends; and a frowsy, ugly, disorderly, depressing scene it was.”

Again, it may be remarked that things have much improved since the good old days. _Inter alia_, the principles and rules of prison management and discipline have greatly changed for the better.

In the tale of “Barnaby Rudge” is the narrative of the burning of Newgate and the liberation of the prisoners by the rioters (1780), on which occasion it will be remembered that our old friend Gabriel Varden was somewhat roughly handled. For full particulars, see chapter 64.

Immediately south of Newgate is the adjacent Central Criminal Court of The Old Bailey, the scene of Charles Darnay’s trial in “The Tale of Two Cities.” At the time there described (1775)—

“The Old Bailey was famous as a kind of deadly Inn yard, from which pale travellers set out continually, in carts and coaches, on a violent passage to the other world, traversing some two miles and a half of public street and road, and shaming few good citizens, if any. So powerful is use, and so desirable to be good use in the beginning. It was famous, too, for the pillory, a wise old institution, that inflicted a punishment of which no one could foresee the extent; also for the whipping-post, another dear old institution, very humanising and softening to behold in action; also for extensive transactions in blood-money, another fragment of ancestral wisdom.”

Facing eastward from Newgate Street is the _Holborn Viaduct_, which has for many years superseded the old ascending and descending road of Holborn Hill.

The Saracen’s Head, the old coaching-house on Snow Hill, with which we have been familiar from the days of “Nicholas Nickleby,” as the headquarters of Mr. Squeers, has disappeared since 1868, having been pulled down long ago, with many other buildings of this neighbourhood, giving room to the great improvements which have taken place in this part of London. Hereabouts it stood, on a lower level, not far from St. Sepulchre’s Church—

“Just on that particular part of Snow Hill where omnibus horses going eastward seriously think of falling down on purpose, and horses in hackney cabriolets going westward not unfrequently fall by accident.”

The present _Police Station_, Snow Hill, stands on part of the site formerly occupied by this old hostelry.

This modern thoroughfare of Snow Hill commences at the first turning on the right, in which has been erected a commodious hotel of the same name (No. 10), where, by the aid of a little refreshment and a slight exercise of imagination, we may recall the departure of Nicholas for Dotheboy’s Hall, Greta Bridge, by the Yorkshire coach, with Mr. Squeers and the pupils; also the later arrival in London of Mr. and Mrs. Browdie, accompanied by the lovely Fanny as bridesmaid, and the first meeting of Nicholas with Frank Cheeryble, newly returned from Continental travel.

Snow Hill leads to the lower level of _Farringdon Road_, at a point immediately north of the Holborn Viaduct spanning the thoroughfare, in which, turning to the right, we walk onwards to the intersection of _Clerkenwell Road_ (eight minutes’ work). On the right hand, across the railway, is Clerkenwell Green, referred to in “Oliver Twist” as

“That open square in Clerkenwell which is yet called by some strange perversion of terms The Green.”

It was near this place that little Oliver became enlightened as to the business of Charley Bates and the Artful Dodger. We read that the boys, traversing a narrow court in this neighbourhood, came out opposite a bookstall, where Mr. Brownlow was reading, abstracted from all other mundane considerations, so affording “a prime plant” for the operations of these light-fingered gentlemen. This court leads from the road opposite the Sessions House into _Pear Tree Court_, giving into the main road at some distance beyond, at which the scene above referred to was enacted.

Walking onwards by the _King’s Cross Road_ we soon come to the point where _Exmouth Street_ joins it from the east, facing the south-east angle of the House of Correction. Here we strike into the route taken by Oliver Twist when he first came from Barnet to London, under the escort of _Mr. John Dawkins_. The text of the story is as follows:—

“They crossed from the ‘Angel’ into St. John’s Road, struck down the small street which terminates at Sadler’s Wells Theatre, through Exmouth Street and Coppice Row, down the little court by the side of the Workhouse, across the classic ground which once bore the name of Hockley-in-the-Hole, thence into Little Saffron Hill, and so into Saffron Hill the Great.”

Following the line thus indicated from Exmouth Street, we come on the south side of the Workhouse, nearly opposite Little Saffron Hill, which leads into _Great Saffron Hill_ as above. Crossing _Clerkenwell Road_, and proceeding for a short distance down Great Saffron Hill, we arrive at the cross street of _Hatton Wall_, in which, past two doors to the left on the south side, will be found—between the _Hat and Tun Inn_ and No. 17 beyond—the entrance of HATTON YARD, a long narrow lane or mews (leading to _Kirby Street_), occupied by carmen and stabling. In this eligible position was situated, some fifty years since, “the very notorious Metropolitan Police Court” to which Oliver Twist was taken on the charge of theft; and we may here recall the administration of the presiding magistrate, the notable Mr. Fang, as shown in the examination of the prisoner.

The premises (No. 9, on the left) once formed part and parcel of the police court referred to; but the arrangements of the neighbourhood have been subjected to much alteration during the last half century. Mr. Forster states that Dickens “had himself a satisfaction in admitting the identity of Mr. Fang, in ‘Oliver Twist,’ with Mr. Laing of Hatton Garden.” In a letter (now in possession of Mr. S. R. Goodman, of Brighton) written to Mr. Haines, Reporter, June 3rd, 1838, Dickens writes as follows:—

“In my next number of ‘Oliver Twist’ I must have a magistrate; and, casting about for a magistrate whose harshness and insolence would render him a fit subject to be _shown up_, I have as a necessary consequence stumbled upon Mr. Laing of Hatton Garden celebrity. I know the man’s character perfectly well; but as it would be necessary to describe his personal appearance also, I ought to have seen him, which (fortunately or unfortunately as the case may be) I have never done. In this dilemma it occurred to me that perhaps I might under your auspices be smuggled into the Hatton Garden office for a few moments some morning. If you can further my object I shall be really very greatly obliged to you.”

“The opportunity was found; the magistrate was brought up before the novelist; and shortly after, on some fresh outbreak of intolerable temper, the Home Secretary found it an easy and popular step to remove Mr. Laing from the Bench.”

Returning to GREAT SAFFRON HILL, we may recall its description as given in the days of “Oliver Twist”—

“The street was very narrow and muddy, and the air was impregnated with filthy odours. The sole places that seemed to prosper amid the general blight of the place were the public-houses, and in them the lowest orders of the Irish were wrangling with might and main. Covered ways and yards, which here and there diverged from the main street, disclosed little knots of houses where drunken men and women were positively wallowing in filth.”

Field Lane, in the immediate vicinity, _was_

“Near to that spot on which Snow Hill and Holborn Hill meet . . a narrow dismal alley leading to Saffron Hill. In its filthy shops are exposed for sale huge bunches of second-hand silk handkerchiefs of all sizes and patterns, for here reside the traders who purchase them from the pickpockets.”

This place has been effaced by the Holborn Valley improvements, and we may now look in vain for the precise locality of the house of _Fagin_ the Jew. In this neighbourhood also was situated “The Three Cripples,” a public-house of evil repute patronised by Sykes, Fagin, and Monks. We may recall the circumstance of _Mr. Morris Bolter’s_ (_alias_ Noah Claypole’s) arrival at this house, when he and _Charlotte_ first came to London, and of his subsequent interview with the wily Jew.

It is pleasant to remark that Saffron Hill has greatly improved in its character since the above-quoted description was correct. It now affords accommodation for the headquarters of the _Central Shoeblacks’ Society_ (as established under the auspices of the late Earl of Shaftesbury), and about midway in the street where thieves “did once inhabit,” a large _Board School_ is doing good educational service for the elevation of the humbler classes.

Turning from Great Saffron Hill westward by the _One Tun_ public-house, we come into _Charles Street_, on the south side of which, towards Hatton Garden, is Bleeding Hart Yard (entrance by the Bleeding Hart Tavern, No. 19). This locality is associated with the tale of “Little Dorrit.” It will be remembered that here the factory of _Messrs. Doyce and Clennam_ was situated, and here also resided _Mr. and Mrs. Plornish_, the humble friends of the Dorrit family. In these degenerate days the place has much altered, and the amiable _Mr. Casby_ would certainly find it more difficult than ever to collect his weekly dues, even by the agency of his energetic assistant, Mr. Pancks.

Passing from this unpretending locality, we come (at No. 8) into _Hatton Garden_, which leads southward to _Holborn Circus_.

In Hatton Garden, on the east side, can be observed (No. 20) the old-established warehouse of Messrs. Rowland and Son. In this connection there may be remembered the mad old gentleman “in small clothes,” who lived next door to the _Nicklebys_, at Bow. On the only occasion of his visiting the family indoors, he incidentally referred to “Mrs. Rowland, who, every morning, bathes in Kalydor for nothing.”—See “Nicholas Nickleby,” chapter 49.

Mr. Waterbrook’s establishment, situated in _Ely Place_, _Holborn_, is entitled to passing mention as the place where David and his friend Traddles met each other for the first time after their schoolboy days, on the occasion of a dinner-party, at which also _Agnes Wickfield_ and _Uriah Heep_ attended. Ely Place is situated on the north side of HOLBORN CIRCUS, and once comprised the rose garden of the Bishop of Ely, afterwards leased to Sir Christopher Hatton.

On the opposite side of the Circus, and near to St. Andrew’s Church, is situated Thavies Inn, in which _Mrs. Jellyby_ and family resided, in the days when her daughter _Caddy_ acted as amanuensis _in re_ the affairs of Borrioboola-Gha.

It is described in “Bleak House” as being

“A narrow street of high houses like an oblong cistern to hold the fog.”

The house No. 13, on the right, has been indicated as once the disorderly residence of the Jellyby family. We may recollect it as the place where _Esther Summerson_ and _Ada_ were accommodated for their first night in London, on which occasion little unfortunate _Peepy_ was found with his head between the area railings, and the house generally turned upside down; while Mrs. Jellyby serenely dictated her correspondence in the family sitting-room, altogether oblivious of such minor domestic accidents.

Esther thus narrates her first impressions:—

“Mrs. Jellyby had very good hair, but was too much occupied with her African duties to brush it. The shawl in which she had been loosely muffled dropped on to her chair, when she advanced towards us; and, as she turned to resume her seat, we could not help noticing that her dress didn’t nearly meet up the back, and that the open space was railed across with a lattice work of staylace—like a summer house. . . . ‘You find me, my dears,’ said Mrs. Jellyby, ‘as usual, very busy; but that you will excuse. The African project at present employs my whole time. . . . We hope by this time next year to have from a hundred and fifty to two hundred healthy families cultivating coffee and educating the natives of Borrioboola-Gha, on the left bank of the Niger.”—See “Bleak House,” chapter 4.

_The Buffet of Messrs. Spiers and Pond_ will be found a short distance eastward from Holborn Circus, on the right, next the terminus of the London, Chatham, and Dover railway. A visit to its welcome “contiguity of shade” is confidently recommended to those who may be disposed for necessary rest and refreshment.

RAMBLE IV _Holborn Circus to Tottenham Court Road_

Langdale’s Distillery—Barnard’s Inn; Pip’s Chambers—Furnival’s Inn; Dickens’s and John Westlock’s Apartments—Staple Inn; Mr. Grewgious’s Chambers, P.J.T.; Rooms of Neville Landless and Mr. Tartar; “The Magic Bean-Stalk Country”—Gray’s Inn; Mr. and Mrs. Traddles and “the girls;” Offices of Mr. Perker—The Bull Inn; Scene of Lewsome’s Illness—Kingsgate Street; Poll Sweedlepipe’s Shop; Sairey Gamp’s Apartments—Mrs. Billickin’s Lodgings in Southampton Street; Miss Twinkleton and Rosa Budd—Bloomsbury Square; Lord Mansfield’s Residence—Queen Square—The Children’s Hospital; Johnny’s Will—Foundling Hospital; “No Thoroughfare;” Walter Wilding—“The Boot Tavern”—No. 48 Doughty Street—Tavistock House, Tavistock Square—Mrs. Dickens’s Establishment, No. 4 Gower Street, North; Mrs. Wilfer’s Doorplate—No. 1 Devonshire Terrace—Mr. Merdle’s House, Harley Street—Mr. Dombey’s House—Madame Mantalini’s, Wigmore Street—Wimpole Street; Mr. Boffin’s West-end Residence—Welbeck Street; Lord George Gordon’s Residence—Brook Street, Claridge’s Hotel; Mr. Dorrit’s Return—Devonshire House; Guild of Literature and Art—Hatchett’s Hotel; White Horse Cellars; Mr. Guppy in attendance—193 Piccadilly; Messrs. Chapman and Hall—Golden Square; Ralph Nickleby’s Office—Apartments of the Kenwigs family—The Crown Inn—“Martha’s” Lodgings—Newman Street; Mr. Turveydrop’s Academy—Carlisle House; Doctor Manette and Lucie.

From HOLBORN CIRCUS the Rambler now proceeds westward by the main thoroughfare of _Holborn_, passing _Fetter Lane_ on the left, and arrives at (No. 26) the old premises, now partially rebuilt, formerly Langdale’s Distillery. Half of the same remains (at the moment), but will shortly be superseded by a modern building. The eastern portion is occupied by Messrs. Buchanan, whisky merchants, who have recently purchased the premises. This establishment was sacked (1780) by the Gordon rioters. Mr. Langdale being a Catholic, was obnoxious to the No-Popery mob; and the stores of liquor at this distillery afforded an additional temptation for the attack. The terrible scenes enacted on the occasion are powerfully described in “Barnaby Rudge,” chapters 67 and 68—

“At this place a large detachment of soldiery were posted, who fired, now up Fleet Market, now up Holborn, now up Snow Hill—constantly raking the streets in each direction. At this place too, several large fires were burning, so that all the terrors of that terrible night seemed to be concentrated in one spot.

“Full twenty times, the rioters, headed by one man who wielded an axe in his right hand, and bestrode a brewer’s horse of great size and strength, caparisoned with fetters taken out of Newgate, which clanked and jingled as he went, made an attempt to force a passage at this point, and fire the vintner’s house. Full twenty times they were repulsed with loss of life, and still came back again; and though the fellow at their head was marked and singled out by all, and was a conspicuous object as the only rioter on horseback, not a man could hit him. . . .

“The vintner’s house, with half-a-dozen others near at hand, was one great, glowing blaze. All night, no one had essayed to quench the flames, or stop their progress; but now a body of soldiers were actively engaged in pulling down two old wooden houses, which were every moment in danger of taking fire, and which could scarcely fail, if they were left to burn, to extend the conflagration immensely.

“. . . The gutters of the street, and every crack and fissure in the stones, ran with scorching spirit, which being dammed up by busy hands, overflowed the road and pavement, and formed a great pool, into which the people dropped down dead by dozens. They lay in heaps all round this fearful pond, husbands and wives, fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, women with children in their arms and babies at their breasts, and drank until they died. While some stooped with their lips to the brink and never raised their heads again, others sprang up from their fiery draught, and danced, half in a mad triumph, and half in the agony of suffocation, until they fell, and steeped their corpses in the liquor that had killed them. . . .

“On this last night of the great riots—for the last night it was—the wretched victims of a senseless outcry, became themselves the dust and ashes of the flames they had kindled, and strewed the public streets of London.”

It will be remembered that Mr. Langdale and Mr. Haredale, being in the house that night, were rescued by Edward Chester and Joe Willett, all four finding their way to safety by a back entrance.

“The narrow lane in the rear was quite free of people. So, when they had crawled through the passage indicated by the vintner (which was a mere shelving-trap for the admission of casks), and had managed with some difficulty to unchain and raise the door at the upper end, they emerged into the street without being observed or interrupted. Joe still holding Mr. Haredale tight, and Edward taking the same care of the vintner, they hurried through the streets at a rapid pace.”

This door gives into Fetter Lane (No. 79), and still exists for the inspection of the curious. The old house in Holborn has, for more than a century, replaced the premises so destroyed. Close at hand (by No. 23) is the entrance to Barnard’s Inn—

“The dingiest collection of shabby buildings ever squeezed together in a rank corner as a club for tom-cats.”

The locality is referred to in these complimentary terms by Mr. Pip (in the pages of “Great Expectations”), who lived here with his friend Herbert Pocket for a short time when he first came to London. Mr. Joe Gargery’s verdict is worth remembrance:—

“The present may be a wery good inn, and I believe its character do stand i; but I wouldn’t keep a pig in it myself, not in the case that I wished him to fatten wholesome, and to eat with a meller flavour on him.”

Pip further describes as follows:—

“We entered this haven through a wicket-gate, and were disgorged by an introductory passage into a melancholy little square that looked to me like a flat burying-ground. I thought it had the most dismal trees in it, and the most dismal sparrows, and the most dismal cats, and the most dismal houses (in number half-a-dozen or so), that I had ever seen. . . . A frowzy mourning of soot and smoke attired this forlorn creation of Barnard, and it had strewed ashes on its head, and was undergoing penance and humiliation as a mere dust-hole. Thus for my sense of sight; while dry rot, and wet rot, and all the silent rots that rot in neglected root and cellar—rot of rat, and mouse, and bug, and coaching stables near at hand besides—addressed themselves faintly to my sense of smell, and moaned, ‘Try Barnard’s Mixture.’”

Great alterations are now (1899) being carried out; the old buildings—as above referred to by Mr. Pip—have been demolished, and a new and better arrangement of the locality is in active progress for the improvement of the neighbourhood.

On the opposite side of Holborn are the handsome and extensive offices of THE PRUDENTIAL ASSURANCE COMPANY. These premises, with their frontage, occupy the site of FURNIVAL’S INN, which has recently disappeared, having been pulled down to make room for the extension of the Assurance offices above referred to—_Sic transit memoria mundi_.

Furnival’s Inn was an interesting locality, as associated with the earlier experience of Mr. Dickens himself. Here the young author resided in 1835, the year previous to the production of the “Pickwick Papers,” the first number of that work being published April 1, 1836. On the day following that notable date, Mr. Dickens married Miss Catherine Hogarth; and for some time the young couple resided on the third floor apartments at _No._ 15 _Furnival’s Inn_—on the right side of the square. A personal reminiscence of these early days is no doubt intended in chapter 59 of “David Copperfield;” a pleasant description being there given of the residential chambers of Mr. and Mrs. Traddles, as located in Gray’s Inn just beyond.

_Mr. John Westlock_ had his bachelor apartments in this same place at Furnival’s Inn (_vide_ “Martin Chuzzlewit”), and here he received the unexpected visit of Tom Pinch on his first arrival in London. We may remember the incidents of that cordial welcome, when

“John was constantly running backwards and forwards to and from the closet, bringing out all sorts of things in pots, scooping extraordinary quantities of tea out of the caddy, dropping French rolls into his boots, pouring hot water over the butter, and making a variety of similar mistakes, without disconcerting himself in the least.”

In the centre of the interior square, standing within the precincts of Furnival’s Inn during the past seventy-five years, and flourishing in recent days—a quiet oasis of retirement and good cheer amidst the bustle and noise of central London—there existed (until 1895) Woods’ Hotel. This hotel was associated with “The Mystery of Edwin Drood,” being the house at which Mr. Grewgious found accommodation for the charming Rosa Budd (on the occasion of her flight from the importunities of Jasper at Cloisterham), including an “unlimited head chambermaid” for her special behoof and benefit.

“Rosa’s room was airy, clean, comfortable, almost gay. The Unlimited had laid in everything omitted from the very little bag (that is to say, everything she could possibly need), and Rosa tripped down the great many stairs again, to thank her guardian for his thoughtful and affectionate care of her.

“‘Not at all, my dear,’ said Mr. Grewgious, infinitely gratified; ‘it is I who thank you for your charming confidence and for your charming company. Your breakfast will be provided for you in a neat, compact, and graceful little sitting-room (appropriate to your figure), and I will come to you at ten o’clock in the morning. I hope you don’t feel very strange indeed, in this strange place.’

“‘Oh no, I feel so safe!’

“‘Yes, you may be sure that the stairs are fire-proof,’ said Mr. Grewgious, ‘and that any outbreak of the devouring element would be perceived and suppressed by the watchmen.’

“‘I did not mean that,’ Rosa replied. ‘I mean, I feel so safe from him.’

“‘There is a stout gate of iron bars to keep him out,’ said Mr. Grewgious smiling; ‘and Furnival’s is fire-proof, and specially watched and lighted, and _I_ live over the way!’ In the stoutness of his knight-errantry, he seemed to think the last-named protection all-sufficient. In the same spirit he said to the gate-porter as he went out, ‘If some one staying in the hotel should wish to send across the road to me in the night, a crown will be ready for the messenger.’ In the same spirit, he walked up and down outside the iron gate for the best part of an hour, with some solicitude; occasionally looking in between the bars, as if he had laid a dove in a high roost in a cage of lions, and had it on his mind that she might tumble out.”

The Hotel was originally built 1818–19, and was enlarged as recently as 1884. Woods was the proprietor for fifty years.

Crossing to the other side of the street, at a short distance onwards, opposite Gray’s Inn Road, the Rambler reaches (by No. 334 High Holborn) the gateway of Staple Inn; a little nook, composed of two irregular quadrangles behind the most ancient part of Holborn, where certain gabled houses, some centuries of age, still stand looking on the public way. Staple Inn was the favourite summer promenade of the meditative _Mr. Snagsby_ (see “Bleak House”); and in this Inn _Mr. Grewgious_ occupied a set of chambers. The house is No. 10, in the inner quadrangle, “presenting in black and white, over its ugly portal, the mysterious inscription, ‘P. J. T., 1747.’ Perhaps John Thomas, or Perhaps Joe Tyler.” And, under certain social conditions, “for a certainty, P. J. T. was Pretty Jolly Too.” _Neville Landless_ also had rooms in this locality; the top set in the corner (on the right), overlooking the garden “where a few smoky sparrows twitter in the smoky trees, as though they had called to each other, ‘let us play at country.’” Close to these lived _Mr. Tartar_, in “the neatest, the cleanest, and the best-ordered chambers ever seen under the sun, moon, and stars.” And we may recall the writer’s delicate treatment of this, the blushing “beanstalk country” of dear little Rosa Budd. For the several associations herewith connected, reference should be made to our author’s last book, “The Mystery of Edwin Drood.”—See concluding paragraphs of chapter 21:—

“Rosa wondered what the girls would say if they could see her crossing the wide street on the sailor’s arm. And she fancied that the passers-by must think her very little and very helpless, contrasted with the strong figure that could have caught her up and carried her out of any danger, miles and miles without resting.

“She was thinking further, that his far-seeing blue eyes looked as if they had been used to watch danger afar off, and to watch it without flinching, drawing nearer and nearer: when, happening to raise her own eyes, she found that he seemed to be thinking something about _them_.

“This a little confused Rosebud, and may account for her never afterwards quite knowing how she ascended (with his help) to his garden in the air, and seemed to get into a marvellous country that came into sudden bloom like the country on the summit of the magic bean-stalk. May it flourish for ever!”

[Picture: Doorway in Staple Inn]

In this connection, the reader may be interested in chapter 22; the first part of which deals most tenderly and beautifully with “love’s awaking,” in the heart of the innocent heroine.

Recrossing to the other side of High Holborn, past _Gray’s Inn Road_ (on the north), at No. 22, we reach the gateway of GRAY’S INN. At No. 2 South Square (formerly Holborn Court) we may find the upper chambers formerly occupied by _Mr. Traddles_ and his wife _Sophy_, whose domestic arrangements included accommodation for “the beauty” and the other Devonshire sisters. Copperfield says, in the chapter before referred to:—

“If I had beheld a thousand roses blowing in a top set of chambers, in that withered Gray’s Inn, they could not have brightened it half so much. The idea of those Devonshire girls, among the dry law-stationers, and the attorneys’ offices; and of the tea and toast, and children’s songs, in that grim atmosphere of pounce and parchment, red-tape, dusty wafers, ink-jars, brief and draft paper, law reports, writs, declarations, and bills of costs, seemed almost as pleasantly fanciful as if I had dreamed that the Sultan’s famous family had been admitted on the roll of attorneys, and had brought the talking-bird, the singing-tree, and the Golden water into Gray’s Inn Hall.”

The offices of _Mr. Perker_, the legal adviser of Mr. Pickwick, were also located in Gray’s Inn. We read that the “outer door” of these chambers was to be found “after climbing two pairs of steep and dirty stairs;” but no indication is given of their exact situation.

Proceeding westward from Gray’s Inn, and passing the stately, elegant, and commodious _First Avenue Hotel_, between Warwick Court and Brownlow Street, and a half-a-dozen side streets beyond, we come, on the north side, at No. 92, to the Bull and Anchor Tavern. This is the house known in the pages of “Martin Chuzzlewit” as “_The Bull Inn_,” then a more important hostelry than at present. It will be remembered as the inn at which Mr. Lewsome, during his illness, was professionally attended by _Sairey Gamp_ and _Betsy Prig_, “turn and turn about.”

Passing on to the next turning but one, we reach Kingsgate Street, where _Poll Sweedlepipes_—barber and bird-fancier—once had his business location, “next door but one to the celebrated mutton-pie shop, and directly opposite the original cat’s-meat warehouse.” At this place the immortal _Mrs. Gamp_ had lodgings on the first floor, where she

“Was easily assailed at night by pebbles, walking-sticks, and fragments of tobacco pipes, all much more efficacious than the street-door knocker, which was so constructed as to wake the street with ease, and even spread alarms of fire in Holborn, without making the smallest impression on the premises to which it was addressed.”

It is recollected in the neighbourhood that, fifty years since, a barber by the name of Patterson (who was also a bird-dealer) lived in this street, at the second house on the left. The shop has been pulled down, is now absorbed by the corner premises in Holborn, and can be only identified by its position. Here, then, did _Mr. Pecksniff_ arrive on his doleful mission, in accordance with the recommendation of _Mr. Mould_, the undertaker, with regard to the death of old _Anthony Chuzzlewit_; and here did that memorable teapot cause a lasting difference between two friends, as narrated in chapter 49 of “Martin Chuzzlewit.” “This world-famous personage, Mrs. Gamp, has passed into and become one with the language” whose vernacular she has adorned with her own flowers of speech. As Mr. Forster remarks, “she will remain among the everlasting triumphs of fiction, a superb masterpiece of English humour.” “Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale, her infinite variety.” At the Holborn corner of Kingsgate Street we may remember _Mr. Bailey_, _junior_, on the occasion when, at this exact spot, he collided with Poll Sweedlepipes, afterwards going “round and round in circles on the pavement,” the better to exhibit to Poll’s admiring gaze his fashionable livery as Tiger in the service of _Mr. Montague Tigg_, “rather to the inconvenience of the passengers generally, who were not in an equal state of spirits with himself.”

The next turning but one, westward, on the right, by the West Central Post Office (No. 126), is Southampton Street, leading to Bloomsbury Square.

Here it will be remembered that lodgings were taken by Mr. Grewgious for _Miss Twinkleton_ and Rosa, of the redoubtable _Mrs. Billickin_, “the person of the ’ouse,” who, from prudential motives, suppressed her Christian name.

“Mr. Grewgious had his agreement-lines and his earnest-money ready. ‘I have signed it for the ladies, ma’am,’ he said, ‘and you’ll have the goodness to sign it for yourself, Christian and Surname, there, if you please.’

“‘Mr. Grewgious,’ said Mrs. Billickin in a new burst of candour, ‘no, sir! You must excuse the Christian name.’

“Mr. Grewgious stared at her.

“‘The door-plate is used as a protection,’ said Mrs. Billickin, ‘and acts as such, and go from it I will not.’

“Mr. Grewgious stared at Rosa.

“‘No, Mr. Grewgious, you must excuse me. So long as this ’ouse is known indefinite as Billickin’s, and so long as it is a doubt with the riff-raff where Billickin may be hidin’, near the street-door or down the airy, and what his weight and size, so long I feel safe. But commit myself to a solitary female statement, no, Miss! Nor would you for a moment wish,’ said Mrs. Billickin, with a strong sense of injury, ‘to take that advantage of your sex, if you were not brought to it by inconsiderate example.’

“Rosa reddening as if she had made some most disgraceful attempt to overreach the good lady, besought Mr. Grewgious to rest content with any signature. And accordingly, in a baronial way, the sign-manual BILLICKIN got appended to the document.”

And we may here recall the incidental passage of arms between the worthy landlady and Miss Twinkleton, Mrs. B. being always in direct antagonism with the schoolmistress, against whom she “openly pitted herself as one whom she fully ascertained to be her natural enemy.” Witness “the B. enveloped in the shawl of State,” as she remarked to Miss Twinkleton that

“‘A rush from scanty feeding to generous feeding, from what you may call messing to what you may call method, do require a power of constitution, which is not often found in youth, particular when undermined by boarding-school. . . . I was put in youth to a very genteel boarding-school, the mistress being no less a lady than yourself, of about your own age, or it may be some years younger, and a poorness of blood flowed from the table, which has run through my life.’

* * * * *

“‘If you refer to the poverty of your circulation,’ began Miss Twinkleton, when again the Billickin neatly stopped her.

“‘I have used no such expressions.’

“‘If you refer, then, to the poorness of your blood—’

“‘Brought upon me,’ stipulated the Billickin, expressly, ‘at a boarding-school—’

“‘Then,’ resumed Miss Twinkleton, ‘all I can say is, that I am bound to believe, on your asseveration, that it is very poor indeed. I cannot forbear adding, that if that unfortunate circumstance influences your conversation, it is much to be lamented, and it is eminently desirable that your blood were richer.’”

Southampton Street is not a long one, and is now chiefly occupied by solicitors and architects; but there is reason to believe that the Billickins’ residence was, aforetime, to be found at No. 18, which is situated next door but one to an archway. As Mrs. B. herself candidly pointed out,

“The arching leads to a mews; mewses must exist.”

The mews aforesaid is now superseded by a factory. Mrs. Billickin has long since relinquished the cares of housekeeping and retired from public life. The present amiable landlady conducts the business on different principles, and will be at all times disposed to give her patrons satisfaction, whether they be of the scholastic persuasion or otherwise.

Southampton Street leads immediately northward into Bloomsbury Square. This place is mentioned in “Barnaby Rudge” as the locality in which _Lord Mansfield’s_ residence was situated at the period of the Gordon Riots. In chapter 66 its destruction by the rioters is thus described:—

“They began to demolish the house with great fury; and setting fire to it in several places, involved in a common ruin the whole of the costly furniture, the plate and jewels, a beautiful gallery of pictures, the rarest collection of manuscripts ever possessed by any one private person in the world, and, worst of all, because nothing could replace the loss, the great Law Library, on almost every page of which were notes, in the judge’s own hand, of inestimable value; being the results of the study and experience of his whole life.”

[Picture: The Children’s Hospital]

The house occupied the site of No. 29, on the east side of the square. We subsequently read in the same book that two of the rioters—cripples—were hanged in this square, the execution being momentarily delayed, as they were placed facing the house they had assisted to despoil. Leaving the square at its north-east angle (right) by _Bloomsbury Place_, the Rambler shortly comes into _Southampton Row_, turning left, and proceeding for a short distance upwards to _Cosmo Place_ on the right, a short cut which leads directly to the contiguous shades of Queen Square just beyond. It will be remembered that in this neighbourhood Richard Carstone had furnished apartments at the time when he was pursuing the experimental study of the Law under the auspices of Messrs. Kenge and Carboy (see “Bleak House,” chapter 18). There is reason to believe that the “quiet old” house intended was No. 28 _Devonshire Street_, leading from the south-east angle of the square.

Leaving Queen Square by _Great Ormond Street_ (eastward), we immediately arrive, on the north side (No. 50), at The Children’s Hospital, adjacent to the Catholic Church and Convent of St. John. In 1858, February 9th, a public dinner was arranged, by way of charitable appeal, for funds necessary to carry on and develop the work. It was happily resolved to invite Charles Dickens to preside on that occasion, and he “threw himself into the service heart and soul.” His earnest, pathetic, but powerful appeal—“majestic in its own simplicity”—that night added more than £3000 to the treasury, which amount was, two months afterwards, substantially increased by the proceeds of a public reading of his “Christmas Carol.” It is pleasant to record that this institution has ever since flourished amain, thus fulfilling the prediction of Dickens when, suggesting that the enterprise could not be possibly maintained unless the Hospital were made better known, he continued as follows:—

“I limit myself to saying—better known, because I will not believe that, in a Christian community of fathers and mothers, and brothers and sisters, it can fail, being better known, to be well and richly endowed.”

We may here recall the scene narrated in chapter 9 of “Our Mutual Friend,” when _Johnny_ makes his will and arranges his affairs, leaving “a kiss for the boofer lady”—

“The family whom God had brought together were not all asleep, but were all quiet. From bed to bed, a light womanly tread and a pleasant fresh face passed in the silence of the night. A little head would lift itself into the softened light here and there, to be kissed as the face went by—for these little patients are very loving—and would then submit itself to be composed to rest again. . . . Over most of the beds, the toys were yet grouped as the children had left them when they last laid themselves down, and in their innocent grotesqueness and incongruity they might have stood for the children’s dreams.”

Proceeding eastward by _Great Ormond Street_ and turning (left) through _Lamb’s Conduit Street_, to its northern end, we face the entrance of the Foundling Hospital. This beneficent institution was established by Captain Thomas Coram, about the middle of the last century, and is associated with “No Thoroughfare,” the Christmas number (and last in the series) of “All the Year Round,” 1867. Visitors attending the morning service of the _Foundling Church_ on Sundays are admitted to the children’s _Dining-Hall_ thereafter, and so may have an opportunity of realising the scene portrayed by Dickens, when the “veiled lady” induced a female attendant to point out Walter Wilding:—

“The bright autumnal sun strikes freshly into the wards; and the heavy-framed windows through which it shines, and the panelled walls on which it shines, are such windows, and such walls as pervade Hogarth’s pictures. Neat attendants silently glide about the orderly and silent tables, the lookers-on move or stop as the fancy takes them; comments in whispers on face such a number, from such a window, are not unfrequent—many of the faces are of a character to fix attention. Some of the visitors from the outside public are accustomed visitors. They have established a speaking acquaintance with the occupants of particular seats at the table, and halt at those points to say a word or two.”

In “Little Dorrit,” too, reference is made to this institution, _in re_ the adoption of Tattycoram by good Papa and Mamma Meagles. In the times of Barnaby Rudge, the London streets were not greatly extended northward beyond this (now central) neighbourhood. We may remember that the headquarters of the “Captain,” Sim Tappertit, Hugh, and Dennis were at The “Boot” Tavern, which is described as

“A lone place of public entertainment, situated in the fields at the back of the Foundling Hospital; a very solitary spot at that period, and quite deserted after dark. The Tavern stood at some distance from any high road, and was only approachable by a dark and narrow lane.”

Proceeding onwards through _Guilford Street_, we reach _Doughty Street_, _Mecklenburgh Square_, running transversely north and south. On the east side we may note No. 48 Doughty Street, as the house to which Dickens removed from _Furnival’s Inn_, in the early spring of 1837, and in which he lived two years and a half, previous to his longer residence at _No._ 1 _Devonshire Terrace_. In it “Oliver Twist” and “Nicholas Nickleby” were written; and here, too, the early friendship, which had been for some time steadily developing between Dickens and Forster, became cemented for life. His biographer says:—

“Nor had many weeks passed before he addressed to me from Doughty Street, words which it is my sorrowful pride to remember have had literal fulfilment. ‘I look back with unmingled pleasure to every link which each ensuing week has added to the chain of our attachment. It shall go hard, I hope, ere anything but death impairs the toughness of a bond now so firmly riveted.’”

The route being retraced to the Foundling Hospital, and thence continued through Guilford Street to _Russell __Square_, we turn (right) by _Woburn Place_ to TAVISTOCK SQUARE, on the south side of which (TAVISTOCK VILLAS) is situated Tavistock House. To this residence Dickens removed (from DEVONSHIRE TERRACE) in October 1851, retaining its possession for nearly ten years. During this time “Bleak House” was completed, and “Hard Times,” “Little Dorrit,” and the “Tale of Two Cities” were given to the world. TAVISTOCK HOUSE is now transformed into a Jewish College. _Hans Christian Andersen_, visiting his friend in London, gives the following description:—

“In Tavistock Square stands Tavistock House. This and the strip of garden in front of it are shut out from the thoroughfare by an iron railing. A large garden, with a grass plat and high trees, stretches behind the house, and gives it a countrified look in the midst of this coal and gas steaming London. In the passage from street to garden hung pictures and engravings. Here stood a marble bust of Dickens, so like him, so youthful and handsome; and over a bedroom door were inserted the bas-reliefs of Night and Day, after Thorwaldsen. On the first floor was a rich library, with a fireplace and a writing-table, looking out on the garden; and here it was that in winter Dickens and his friends acted plays to the satisfaction of all parties. The kitchen was underground, and at the top of the house were the bedrooms.”

[Picture: Tavistock House]

Leaving this locality at the north-west angle, passing _Gordon Square_, we turn (right) into _Gordon Street_, and (left) through _Gower Place_, to GOWER STREET, on the west side of which—opposite—is the house once bearing a large brass plate on the door, announcing Mrs. Dickens’s Establishment, being the place at which Mrs. Dickens (mother of Charles) endeavoured to set up a school during the difficult times of 1822. The family lived here for a short time, previous to the Marshalsea imprisonment of Dickens senior; Charles being then a boy ten years of age. In the first chapter of Forster’s Biography is the following:—

“A house was soon found at number four, Gower Street North; a large brass plate on the door announced Mrs. Dickens’s establishment; and the result I can give in the exact words of the then small actor in the comedy, whose hopes it had raised so high: ‘I left at a great many other doors a great many circulars, calling attention to the merits of the establishment. Yet nobody ever came to school, nor do I recollect that anybody ever proposed to come, or that the least preparation was made to receive anybody. But, I know that we got on very badly with the butcher and baker; that very often we had not too much for dinner; and that at last my father was arrested.’ . . . Almost everything by degrees was pawned or sold, little Charles being the principal agent in these sorrowful transactions . . . until at last, even of the furniture of Gower Street, number four, there was nothing left except a few chairs, a kitchen table, and some beds. Then they encamped, as it were, in the two parlours of the emptied house, and lived there night and day.”

Gower Street has been rearranged since that time (there is now no Gower Street North), and the houses are renumbered. No. 145, near _Gower Street Chapel_, and other houses adjoining, are now in the occupation of Messrs. Maple & Co.; and this No. 145 was the house then enumerated as No. 4 Gower Street North. Mrs. Dickens’s experience, it will be remembered, has been pleasantly referred to in the pages of “Our Mutual Friend;” the stately _Mrs. Wilfer_ therein making a similar experiment, with the same result. In chapter 4 we read of _Rumpty’s_ return home from business: when

“Something had gone wrong with the house door, for R. Wilfer stopped on the steps, staring at it, and cried ‘Hal-loa?’ ‘Yes,’ said Mrs. Wilfer, ‘the man came himself with a pair of pincers and took it off, and took it away. He said that as he had no expectation of ever being paid for it, and as he had an order for another _Ladies’ School_ door-plate, it was better (burnished up) for the interests of all parties.’”

On the opposite corner of the street is the _Gower Street Station_ of the Metropolitan Railway, at which train may be taken to _Baker Street_. On arrival, we turn to the right, by _Marylebone Road_, to Devonshire Terrace, consisting of three houses at the northern end of _High Street_,_ Marylebone_. No. 1, now occupied by a legal firm, was for twelve years the residence of Charles Dickens (when in town). It is described by Forster as

“A handsome house with a garden of considerable size, shut out from the New Road by a brick wall, facing the York Gate into Regent’s Park.”

To quote the ironical dictum of its future tenant when the choice was made, it was “a house of great promise (and great premium), undeniable situation, and excessive splendour.” During the period of the author’s residence here several of his best-known books were given to the world—“Master Humphrey’s Clock,” CHRISTMAS BOOKS, and “David Copperfield” included. Proceeding forwards and eastward past _Devonshire Place_, we may take our way, turning on the right down Harley Street, of which we read in “Little Dorrit” that,

“Like unexceptionable society, the opposing rows of houses in Harley Street were very grim with one another. Indeed, the mansions and their inhabitants were so much alike in that respect that the people were often to be found drawn up on opposite sides of dinner tables, in the shade of their own loftiness, staring at the other side of the way with the dulness of the houses. Everybody knows how like the street the two dinner-rows of people who take their stand by the street will be. The expressionless uniform twenty houses, all to be knocked at and rung at in the same form, all approachable by the same dull steps, all fended off by the same pattern of railing, all with the same impracticable fire-escapes, the same inconvenient fixtures in their heads, and everything, without exception, to be taken at a high valuation—who has not dined with these?”

In this street lived that great financier and swindler _Mr. Merdle_, who had his residence in one of the handsomest of these handsome houses; but it would be, perhaps, invidious to point out any particular location for the same, Dickens himself having purposely omitted an exact address. Following the course of Harley Street, we come in due time to QUEEN ANNE STREET, running east and west. Adopting the leftward turning (east), we may find at the next corner—_Mansfield Street_—on the north side, Mr. Dombey’s House, as described in chapter 3 of “Dombey and Son”—

“Mr. Dombey’s house was a large one, on the shady side of a tall, dark, dreadfully genteel street in the region between Portland Place and Bryanston Square. It was a corner house, with great wide areas containing cellars, frowned upon by barred windows, and leered at by crooked-eyed doors leading to dust-bins. It was a house of dismal state, with a circular back to it, containing a whole suite of drawing-rooms looking upon a gravelled yard.”

It will be observed that the position and character of this mansion exactly correspond to the above description, being in its general style noteworthy and unique. This, then, was the private establishment and “home department” of the Dombey family, where died the gentle Paul; the lonely house in which the neglected Florence grew to lovely womanhood; what time the second wife—the stately Edith—held temporary sway.

Hence a short distance southward leads to _Cavendish Square_. In this neighbourhood we read that Madame Mantalini’s fashionable dressmaking establishment was situated, at which Kate Nickleby was for some few weeks engaged, on the recommendation of her uncle. The house intended was probably in _Wigmore Street_, No. 11. In the days of the Mantalini _régime_ the business was advertised

“To the nobility and gentry by the casual exhibition, near the handsomely-curtained windows, of two or three elegant bonnets of the newest fashion, and some costly garments in the most approved taste.”

By the next turning (right) on the north side we come into WIMPOLE STREET; on the east of which, at the corner of the third block, stands The West End Residence—No. 43—aforetime occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Boffin; which became, later on, the property of Mr. John Harmon and his wife. It is described as “a corner house, not far from Cavendish Square.” Near this house _Silas Wegg_—assuming some knowledge of its affairs—kept his street-stall. He was accustomed to refer to it as “Our House,” its (imaginary) inmates being Miss Elizabeth, Master George, Aunt Jane, and Uncle Parker.

Returning to Wigmore Street, we arrive by the next block at Welbeck Street, running transversely thereto. In this street was the London residence of _Lord George Gordon_, as referred to in the pages of “Barnaby Rudge.” The house is No. 64, the second from Wigmore Street on the left side. It is within the recollection of the present landlord that the old balcony—from which Lord George was wont to harangue the public—was many years since superseded by the present continuous railing.

We now come south into the West-end artery of _Oxford Street_, crossing same to _Davies Street_, by which we may soon reach BROOK STREET, GROSVENOR SQUARE, running east and west. On the south-eastern angle of its intersection stands Claridge’s Hotel. It will be remembered that on _Mr. Dorrit’s_ return from the Continent, after the marriage of his daughter Fanny, “the Courier had not approved of his staying at the house of a friend, and had preferred to take him to an hotel in Brook Street, Grosvenor Square.” This was doubtless the establishment favoured by the Courier’s preference on that occasion; and where Mr. Merdle paid a state visit to Mr. Dorrit at breakfast-time the next morning; taking him afterwards in his carriage to the City.

Readers of “Dombey and Son” may be reminded that the Feenix Town House was situated in this same BROOK STREET; but no clue is afforded of its exact whereabouts. It is described as an aristocratic mansion of a dull and gloomy sort; and was borrowed by the _Honourable Mrs. Skewton_ from a stately relative, on the occasion of her daughter’s marriage. Here also, in aftertime, the final interview between _Florence_ and _Edith_ took place.

[Picture: The Drawing-Room, Devonshire House]

Keeping on through _Davies Street_ across _Berkeley Square_, we come through _Berkeley Street_ to Piccadilly, in the close vicinity of Devonshire House, a mansion of fashionable and political repute, belonging to the _Duke of Devonshire_. Here, on the 27th of May 1851, in the great drawing-room and library, Dickens and his _confrères_ of “The Guild of Literature and Art” performed, for the first time, Sir Bulwer Lytton’s comedy (written for the occasion) “Not so Bad as We Seem,” in the presence of the Queen, Prince Albert and a brilliant audience. The Duke not only afforded the necessary accommodation, but (as Mr. Forster writes), in his princely way, discharged all attendant expenses. Many distinguished authors and artists assisted at this performance, including Douglas Jerrold, Maclise, and John Leech.

Near at hand, on the eastern corner of the next turning down Piccadilly (_Dover Street_), is HATCHETT’S HOTEL, adjoining The White Horse Cellars, once a well-known coaching establishment. On the opposite side of the way stood in days of yore the old “White Horse Cellars,” of which Hazlitt writes:—

“The finest sight in the Metropolis is the setting out of the mail-coaches from Piccadilly. The horses paw the ground and are impatient to be gone, as if conscious of the precious burden they convey. There is a peculiar secrecy and despatch, significant and full of meaning, in all the proceedings concerning them. Even the outside passengers have an erect and supercilious air, as if proof against the accidents of the journey; in fact, it seems indifferent whether they are to encounter the summer’s heat or the winter’s cold, since they are borne through the air on a winged chariot.”

From this well-known Booking Office, _Mr. Pickwick_ and his friends—accompanied by the fierce _Dowler_ and his fascinating wife—started for Bath, one “muggy, damp, and drizzly morning, by the mail coach; on the door of which was displayed, in gilt letters of a goodly size, the magic name of ‘Pickwick’; a circumstance which seems to have occasioned some confusion of ideas in the mind of the faithful Sam, as evidenced by his indignant inquiry—‘An’t nobody to be whopped for takin’ this here liberty?’”

Readers of “Bleak House” will remember this locality as the destination of the Reading Coach; so indicated by _Messrs. Kenge and Carboy_ in their first communication to _Esther Summerson_. Here she was met, one foggy November afternoon, on her arrival in London, by the susceptible _Mr. Guppy_, and by him conducted to Old Square, Lincoln’s Inn. The incident was afterwards feelingly referred to by that young gentleman, on the occasion of his offer of heart, hand, and income to Esther:—

“I think you must have seen that I was struck with those charms on the day when I waited at the Whytorseller. I think you must have remarked that I could not forbear a tribute to those charms when I put up the steps of the ’ackney coach.”

For the full narrative, see “Bleak House,” chapter 9.

The Rambler can now take an eastward course up PICCADILLY, and may casually observe, on the left, past Burlington House, THE ALBANY, where _Mr. Fledgby_ had chambers. The next turning on the same side is SACKVILLE STREET, in which it may be recollected that _Mr. and Mrs. Lammles_ resided during the short term of their social prosperity. Mention of these localities in such connection will be found in the pages of “Our Mutual Friend.” Passing onwards on the same side, we arrive at No. 28, St. James’s Hall. It was at this well-known place of assembly that several of those popular Readings were given by Charles Dickens, which always commanded the attention and sympathetic interest of his audience. On these occasions he invariably adopted the extreme of fashionable evening attire, being dressed in irreproachable style, with, perhaps, more of shirt-front than waistcoat; and so “got up” as to present a staginess and juvenility of appearance, possibly somewhat out of keeping with his time of life. Some of his hearers may have desired a more natural and less conventional mode; but they knew that beneath the big shirt and fashionable coat, there throbbed the genial heart of the man they loved, as he read of the sorrows of “Little Emily,” or stood with them in spirit at the bedside of “Paul Dombey.” On the occasion of his final Reading, given here in March 1870, he tendered his last public farewell to his London audience in the following words:

“It would be worse than idle, it would be hypocritical and unfeeling, if I were to disguise that I close this episode of my life with feelings of very considerable pain. For some fifteen years, in this hall and many kindred places, I have had the honour of presenting my own cherished ideas before you for your recognition; and, in closely observing your reception of them, have enjoyed an amount of artistic delight and enjoyment, which perhaps it is given few men to know. In this task and every other, I have ever undertaken as a faithful servant of the public—always imbued with a sense of duty to them, and always striving to do his best—I have been uniformly cheered by the readiest response, the most generous sympathy and the most stimulating support. Nevertheless, I have thought it well, at the full flood-tide of your favour, to retire upon those older associations between us, which date from much further back than these; and henceforth to devote myself exclusively to the art that first brought us together. Ladies and gentlemen, in but two short weeks from this time, I hope that you may enter, in your own homes, on a new series of Readings, at which my assistance will be indispensable; but from these garish lights I vanish now for ever, with one heartfelt, grateful, respectful, and affectionate farewell.”

On the right-hand side of Piccadilly, adjacent to the _Prince’s Hall and Institute of Painters_, there may be noted, _en passant_, the premises No. 193, now occupied by the Boys’ Messenger Co. This, for many years, was the address of Messrs. Chapman and Hall, the publishers of the works of Dickens. Previous to 1850, the earlier books—“Pickwick” to “Martin Chuzzlewit” inclusive—together with the first issue of their cheaper edition, were published by this well-known house at 186 _Strand_, the site now occupied by the premises of W. H. Smith and Son. The firm have, for many years past, removed their offices to _No._ 11 _Henrietta Street_, _Covent Garden_.

Passing on to _Piccadilly Circus_, and crossing northward from the same, we turn (left) into _Sherwood Street_, which leads, by a short walk, to _Brewer Street_, in the neighbourhood of GOLDEN SQUARE. Continuing by _Lower James Street_, opposite, we reach the square itself, in which was formerly situated the Office of Ralph Nickleby. Readers of Dickens will remember that it was a large house, with an attic storey, in which Ralph committed suicide. The house No. 6, on the east side, was probably the one assigned by the author as the usurer’s residence. It is now let off in various suites of offices, professional and otherwise. The neighbourhood has somewhat changed since the time when the “Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby” was first issued, and the following description, given by Dickens, became public property:—

“It is one of the squares that have been—a quarter of the town that has gone down in the world, and taken to letting lodgings. Many of its first and second floors are let, furnished, to single gentlemen, and it takes boarders besides. It is a great resort of foreigners. The dark-complexioned men who wear large rings and heavy watch-guards, and bushy whiskers, and who congregate under the Opera Colonnade, and about the box-office in the season between four and five in the afternoon, when they give away the orders—all live in Golden Square, or within a street of it. Two or three violins and a wind instrument from the opera-band reside within its precincts.”

We read in the same book of the whereabouts of _Mr. Kenwigs_ as being in this neighbourhood—

“A bygone, faded, tumble-down street, with two irregular rows of tall meagre houses, which seem to have stared each other out of countenance years ago; the very chimneys appear to have grown dismal and melancholy from having had nothing better to look at than the chimneys over the way.”

There are many streets in the district of Soho, in this vicinity, which will in some respects correspond with the description given; but much alteration has taken place during the last sixty years. Recollecting that _Newman Noggs_ lodged in the upper part of the same house, it must have been conveniently near Golden Square. In Carnaby Street (immediately north of the Square) there may be remarked a white-fronted, old-fashioned house (No. 48), which, being in proximity to Ralph Nickleby’s Office, may be assigned as aforetime comprising the apartments of the Kenwigs Family.

At the corner of _Beak Street_ and _Upper James Street_ is still existent “The Crown Inn,” well known to Newman Noggs; though, since his time, it must have undergone considerable alteration. In his first letter to Nicholas Nickleby, Newman writes:—

“If you ever want a shelter in London, . . . they know where I live at the sign of the Crown, Golden Square. It is at the corner of Silver Street” [now Beak Street] “and James Street, with a bar door both ways.”

In this neighbourhood, also, Martha’s Lodgings were situated, in the days of David Copperfield, who says:—

“She laid her hand on my arm, and hurried me on to one of the sombre streets of which there are several in that part, where the houses were once fair dwellings, in the occupation of single families, but have, and had, long degenerated into poor lodgings let off in rooms.”

Such a house may be found in _Marshall Street_, No. 53, close at hand. But at this distance of time it is difficult to assign the exact locality intended by Dickens. We are all familiar with the welcome episode in David’s history when Martha rescued _Little Emily_, bringing her to these lodgings, and _Mr. Peggotty’s_ dream came true.—See chapter 50.

Proceeding half-way up _Marshall Street_, we turn (right) through _Broad Street_, to (left) _Poland Street_, by which we again attain the main thoroughfare of Oxford Street. Turning eastward, on the north side, we come at a short distance (by No. 90) to Newman Street, in which was situated _Mr. Turveydrop’s Dancing Academy_, “established in a sufficiently dingy house, at the corner of an archway” (Newman Passage), with Mr. Turveydrop’s great room built out into a mews at the back. The house intended is No. 26, on the east side of the street. Here _Caddy Jellyby_ resided with her husband, _Prince Turveydrop_, in the upper rooms of the establishment, leaving the better part of the house at the disposal of Mr. Turveydrop, senior; that “perfect model” of parental and social “deportment.” Returning to Oxford Street and passing onwards on the south side, we shortly arrive at _Dean Street_, leading southward.

At a short distance, running east and west, is Carlisle Street, at the further end of which, to the right, is an old house (by name Carlisle House) which stands facing the observer. It is now occupied by _Messrs. Edwards and Roberts_, dealers in antique furniture. Readers of “The Tale of Two Cities” will recollect the lodgings of Doctor Manette and daughter Lucie, as described in the 6th chapter (Book the Second) of the Tale, being situated in a quiet street-corner, not far from Soho Square:—

“A quainter corner than the corner where the Doctor lived was not to be found in London. There was no way through it, and the front windows of the Doctor’s lodgings commanded a pleasant little vista of street that had a congenial air of retirement on it. There were few buildings then, north of the Oxford Road, and forest-trees flourished, and wild flowers grew, and the hawthorn blossomed, in the now vanished fields.”

The garden behind the house, referred to in the above-mentioned book, has been converted to the uses of a warehouse, a glass roof having been long ago built over the same. A paved court now exists at the side for the convenience of foot-passengers, giving egress at the end of Carlisle Street, so that the “wonderful echoes” which once resounded in this “curious corner” are now no longer to be heard.

It may be interesting to note that a thoroughfare leading from _No._ 119 _Charing Cross Road_ to _No._ 6 _Greek Street_, _Soho_, is now named _Manette Street_; in remembrance of the worthy Doctor, whose London residence in Carlisle Street, as indicated, was near at hand.

We may return to Oxford Street through Soho Square, conveniently terminating the ramble at Tottenham Court Road, just beyond. From this central point there is omnibus communication to all parts of London; and a commodious resting-place may be here recommended to those disposed for dinner, at THE HORSESHOE RESTAURANT; which stands in a prominent position near at hand, on the east side of the street.

RAMBLE V _Bank of England to Her Majesty’s Theatre_

The Bank; Dombey and Son, Tom Pinch—George and Vulture Inn; Mr. Pickwick’s Hotel—“The Green Dragon,” _alias_ “The Blue Boar,” Leadenhall Market; Tony Weller’s Headquarters—Newman’s Court (_alias_ Freeman’s Court), Cornhill; The Offices of Messrs. Dodson and Fogg—House of Sol Gills, Leadenhall Street; The Wooden Midshipman—St. Mary Axe; Pubsey and Co.—House of Sampson Brass in Bevis Marks—“The Red Lion;” Mr. Dick Swiveller’s recommendation—Bull Inn, Aldgate; Starting-place of the Ipswich Coach—The Minories—Aldgate Pump; Mr. Toots’s Excursions—Mincing Lane; Messrs. Chicksey, Veneering, and Stobbles—Boarding House of Mrs. Todgers, King’s Head Court—London Bridge; Meeting-place of Rose Maylie and Nancy—“The White Hart Inn”; its Pickwickian Associations—The Marshalsea Prison; The Dorrit Family—St. George’s Church; Little Dorrit’s Night Refuge and Marriage—Lant Street; Dickens and Bob Sawyer’s Lodging—King’s Bench Prison—Horsemonger Lane Gaol—Mr. Chivery’s Shop—St. George’s Obelisk; “the long-legged young man”—The Surrey Theatre; Fanny Dorrit and Uncle—Bethlehem Hospital; “Uncommercial Traveller”—Astley’s Theatre; visit of the Nubbles Family—Millbank; Poor “Martha”—Church Street, Smith Square; the Dolls’ Dressmaker—Julius Handford—Westminster Abbey—The Red Lion, Parliament Street; the “Genuine Stunning”—The Horse Guards’ Clock—St. James’s Park; Meeting between Martin and Mary—Her Majesty’s Theatre.

Our starting-point is now the BANK OF ENGLAND, Dombey and Son’s

“Magnificent neighbour; with its vaults of gold and silver, ‘all among the dead men, underground.’”

_Tom Pinch_, diffident of requesting information in London, resolved that, in the event of finding himself near the Bank of England,

“He would step in, and ask a civil question or two, confiding in the perfect respectability of the concern.”

Adopting the route _viâ Lombard Street_, we come, on the left (No. 56), to GEORGE YARD, traversing which, there will be found, at the corner of Castle Court (No. 3), the George and Vulture Inn, at which Mr. Pickwick resided when in London, subsequent to his removal from Goswell Street; and which has honourable mention in the history of the Pickwickians.

Through _Lombard Street_, and turning left into _Gracechurch Street_, we shortly arrive, on the right, at _Bull’s Head Passage_ (turning by the Branch Post Office, No. 82), in which, at No. 4, is the GREEN DRAGON TAVERN, in close proximity to Leadenhall Market. This is, in all probability, the house mentioned in “Pickwick” as “The Blue Boar,” _Leadenhall Market_, a favourite house of call with the elder Weller, and the place where Sam indited his “Valentine” to _Mary_, the pretty housemaid, afterwards Mrs. Sam. But the neighbourhood of the Market has undergone considerable renovation since the old coaching-days, and it is difficult to fix the _locale_ of the tavern with certainty.

Proceeding onwards through _Gracechurch Street_, we come into the thoroughfare of CORNHILL; and at No. 73, on the opposite side, arrive at Newman’s Court. It will be remembered that in “Pickwick” the offices of _Messrs. Dodson and Fogg_ (Mrs. Bardell’s attorneys) are located in Freeman’s Court, Cornhill. There is no such place in Cornhill; Freeman’s Court being in Cheapside. It is evident, therefore, that Dickens, for reasons of his own, emulated the special contributor to the _Eatanswill Gazette_, and so “combined his information.” Taking Cornhill to be the locality intended, we shall find Dodson and Fogg’s Office at the furthest end of the Court, No. 4, still associated with legal business, being in possession of Messrs. Witherby and Co., law stationers.

Passing onwards in Cornhill, past Bishopsgate Street, we come into Leadenhall Street, and may be interested to note, at No. 157 (now an outfitting establishment), the original position of the HOUSE OF SOL GILLS, ships’ instrument maker, at whose door was displayed the figure of

“The Wooden Midshipman; eternally taking observations of the hackney coaches.”

Here our eccentric friend _Captain Cuttle_ remained in charge during the absence of old Sol Gills and his nephew; here _Florence_, accompanied by the faithful Diogenes, found asylum; and here _Walter Gay_ returned after shipwreck, to make everybody happy and marry the gentle heroine of the story. (See “Dombey and Son” for information _in extenso._) Until recent years, these premises were in occupation of Messrs. Norie and Wilson, ships’ instrument makers and chart publishers. They have removed to the Minories, No. 156, where the quaint effigy of _the Wooden Midshipman_, with his cocked hat and quadrant complete, may now be seen, as bright and brisk as in old days. “When found, make a note of.”

Farther on, on the same side of Leadenhall Street, we reach St. Mary Axe, turning northward at No. 117, which we notice _en passant_ as the thoroughfare in which _Pubsey and Co._ had their place of business; “a yellow overhanging plaster-fronted house”—reconstructed, with many others, some years since—at the top of which _Riah_ (the manager) arranged his town garden; where the Dolls’ Dressmaker invited _Fascination Fledgby_ to “come up and be dead.” All of which is duly set forth in the pages of “Our Mutual Friend.” The position of the house cannot now be localised.

Proceeding to the other end of St. Mary Axe, we may turn (right) into _Bevis Marks_, where there once existed the House of Mr. Sampson Brass, No. 10, but this and others have long since been rebuilt and re-enumerated. Here lived that honourable attorney and his sister the fair Sally; aided in their professional duties by a young gentleman of eccentric habits and “prodigious talent of quotation.” Here the _Marchioness_ lived, or rather starved, in attendance as maid-of-all-work, and first made the acquaintance of Dick Swiveller, her future husband; being by him initiated into the mysteries of cribbage and the peculiarities of purl. Here lodged the “single gentleman,” who evinced such exceptional interest in the national drama, and so discovered a clue to the retreat of Little Nell and her grandfather.

On the north side of the street there still flourishes the old RED LION INN, an establishment patronised in his time by Mr. Richard, and once eulogised by that gentleman on the occasion of his specifying “the contingent advantages” of the neighbourhood. “There is mild porter in the immediate vicinity.”

For these and the other associations of this spot the tourist is referred to the pages of the “Old Curiosity Shop.”

Following downwards through Bevis Marks and Duke Street beyond, we come into _Aldgate_, keeping still on the left-hand side of the way to _Aldgate High Street_, where at a short distance we pass the Station of the Metropolitan Railway. At No. 24, just ahead, is the Bull Inn Yard, once the City Terminus of Coaches travelling north-east. From this point Mr. Pickwick started per coach for Ipswich, accompanied by the red-haired Mr. Peter Magnus; Mr. Tony Weller officiating as driver. On which occasion we read that Mr. Weller’s conversation, “possessing the inestimable charm of blending amusement with instruction,” beguiled “the tediousness of the journey during the greater part of the day.”

Returning westward on the other side of the way, the Rambler may turn, at No. 81, into the _Minories_; and, at the second house on the right, may observe the figure of _the Wooden Midshipman_, previously referred to as removed from its original position in Leadenhall Street. The route being continued (same side) from the Minories, we can note, as we pass into _Fenchurch Street_, Aldgate Pump, standing at the top of Leadenhall Street. There is a reference to this old pump in “Dombey,” as being a stated object of _Mr. Toots’s_ special evening excursions from “The Wooden Midshipman,” when that gentleman desired some temporary relief from the hopeless contemplation of Walter Gay’s happiness.

The tourist will now soon arrive at (No. 42) Mincing Lane, leading to Great Tower Street. This short street is entirely occupied by wholesale merchants and brokers, and it will be remembered that _Messrs. Chicksey_, _Veneering_, _and Stobbles_, wholesale druggists, flourished in this locality in the days of the “Golden Dustman.” The fourth house on the left from Fenchurch Street, next to _Dunster Court_, has been indicated as the probable whereabouts of the firm. We may remember that R. Wilfer’s office was on the ground-floor, next the gateway.

Here, then, in this prosaic neighbourhood, _John Rokesmith_, following _Bella Wilfer_, came to the warehouse where Little _Rumty_ was sitting at the open window at his tea, and much surprised that gentleman by a declaration of love for his daughter; what time “The Feast of the Three Hobgoblins” was so agreeably celebrated. This place is also associated with other pleasant episodes connected with the history of the Wilfer family, the details of which are fully furnished in the pages of “Our Mutual Friend.”

Proceeding through Mincing Lane, we turn to the right through _Eastcheap_, which leads westward to the top of FISH STREET HILL. The tourist now proceeds southward, passing the _Monument_ on the left. At a short distance beyond (No. 34) we arrive at _King’s Head Court_, “a small paved yard,” in which are certain city warehouses and a dairy. On the south side of the court, now occupied by the warehouses aforesaid, once stood the Commercial Boarding-House of Mrs. Todgers—an old-fashioned abode even in the days of Mr. Pecksniff—which has long since given place to other commercial considerations. In the 9th chapter of “Martin Chuzzlewit” full, true, and particular account is given of this establishment as it used to be. We may here call to remembrance the characters of _Bailey junior_, _Mr. Jinkins_, _Augustus Moddle_, and others in connection with the domestic economy of Mrs. Todgers and the several Pecksniffian associations of the place; notably, the festive occasion of that Sunday’s dinner when Cherry and Merry were first introduced to London society; the moral Mr. Pecksniff thereafter exhibiting alarming symptoms of a chronic complaint. (See chapter 9.) And we may indulge in a kindly reminiscence of good-hearted Mrs. Todgers herself, worried with the anxieties of “gravy” and the eccentricities of commercial gentlemen. “Perhaps the Good Samaritan was lean and lank, and found it hard to live.” We now come to London Bridge, the scene of Nancy’s interview with Mr. Brownlow and Rose Maylie (see “Oliver Twist”), which took place on the steps near St. Saviour’s Church, on the Surrey side of the river—

“These stairs are a part of the bridge; they consist of three flights. Just below the end of the second, going down, the stone wall on the left terminates in an ornamental pilaster, facing towards the Thames.”

And it will be remembered that _Noah Claypole_ here ensconced himself as an unseen listener.

As we come to the Surrey side of the Thames, a passing thought may be given to _Mrs. Rudge_ and her son Barnaby, who lived near at hand “in a by-street in Southwark, not far from London Bridge”; and we may recall the incident of _Edward Chester_ being brought hither by _Gabriel Varden_, having been found wounded by a highwayman on the other side of the river. But it is altogether impossible to locate the house, the neighbourhood having so entirely changed during the present century. Onwards by the main thoroughfare of the Borough, we shall find, on the left-hand side of the way (No. 61), the (former) location of “The White Hart,” described in “Pickwick” as

“An old inn, which has preserved its external features unchanged, and which has escaped alike the rage for public improvement and the encroachments of private speculation. A great, rambling, queer old place, with galleries and passages and staircases, wide enough and antiquated enough to furnish materials for a hundred ghost stories.”

The old inn has been pulled down some years since; the original gateway only remains, leading to White Hart Yard. A tavern and luncheon-bar of modern erection now occupy one side of the old coach-yard in which _Messrs. Pickwick_, _Wardle_, and _Perker_ made their first acquaintance with _Mr. Samuel Weller_, on that memorable occasion when _Mr. Jingle_ had eloped from _Dingley Dell_ with _Miss Rachael Wardle_, and had brought the lady to this establishment. Farther on, towards the end of the Borough, we arrive at Angel Place, a narrow passage near to St. George’s Church. It leads into _Marshalsea Place_, of which Dickens writes as follows in his preface to “Little Dorrit”:—

“Whoever goes into Marshalsea Place, turning out of Angel Court, leading to Bermondsey, will find his feet on the very paving-stones of the extinct Marshalsea jail; will see its narrow yard to the right, and to the left, very little altered if at all, except that the walls were lowered when the place got free; will look upon the rooms in which the debtors lived; and will stand among the crowding ghosts of many miserable years.”

This, then, was The Marshalsea Prison, in which, during Dickens’s youthful days, his father was imprisoned for debt; and the place is intimately associated with the story of _Little Dorrit_ and her family. We must be all familiar with the Father of the Marshalsea, his brother Frederick, Maggie, and the several others of the _dramatis personæ_ of that charming tale.

St. George’s Church, close at hand, will be remembered in connection with the above, as once affording refuge in its vestry for Little Dorrit, when the sexton accommodated her with a bed formed of the pew-cushions, the book of registers doing service as a pillow. She was afterwards married to Arthur Clennam in this church. Full particulars of the ceremony will be found in the last chapter of the tale. At a short distance from this point, down Blackman Street, on the right, is (No. 90) Lant Street. In Forster’s Biography it is narrated that Dickens, when a boy, lodged in this street what time his father was imprisoned in the Marshalsea. The house stood on part of the site now occupied by the Board School adjoining No. 46—

“A back attic was found for me at the house of an insolvent-court agent, who lived in Lant Street, in the Borough, where _Bob Sawyer_ lodged many years afterwards. A bed and bedding were sent over for me, and made up on the floor. The little window had a pleasant prospect of a timber-yard; and when I took possession of my new abode, I thought it was a Paradise.”

This opinion of his boyhood seems to have been somewhat modified fifteen years later, when the “Pickwick Papers” were written, and Mr. Robert Sawyer had taken residence in the locality. We read—

“There is an air of repose about Lant Street, in the Borough, which sheds a gentle melancholy upon the soul. A house in Lant Street would not come within the denomination of a first-rate residence, in the strict acceptation of the term; but it is a most desirable spot, nevertheless. If a man wished to extract himself from the world, to remove himself from within the reach of temptation, to place himself beyond the possibility of any inducement to look out of the window, he should by all means go to Lant Street.”

Walking onwards from “this happy valley” past Suffolk Street, to the westward, turning off _Borough Road_, we may note on the north corner the site of the old King’s Bench Prison, in which _Mr. Micawber_ was detained—in the top storey but one—pending the settlement of his pecuniary liabilities. Later on in the Copperfield history, Micawber appointed a meeting for David and Tom Traddles as follows:—

“Among other havens of domestic tranquillity and peace of mind, my feet will naturally tend towards the King’s Bench Prison. In stating that I shall be (D.V.) on the outside of the south wall of that place of incarceration on civil process, the day after to-morrow, at seven in the evening, precisely, my object in this epistolary communication is accomplished.”

See chapter 49 for particulars of the subsequent interview. This “_dead wall_” of the prison is also mentioned in the same book as the place where young David requested “the long-legged young man”—who had charge of his box for conveyance to the Dover coach-office—to stop for a minute while he (David) tied on the address. It will be remembered that poor David lost his box and his money on this occasion, when he started for Dover,

“Taking very little more out of the world, towards the retreat of his aunt, Miss Betsy, than he had brought into it on the night when his arrival gave her so much umbrage;”

the total sum of his remaining cash amounting to three half-pence.—See