A Guide to London

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLIII, Issue 16, 20 October 1909, Page 2

A Guide to London

ft NEW ZEALANDER’S IMPRESSIONS—MOVING PICTURES

By

Dog Toby.

How to See the City. NEW Zealander, who has just / | returned from the Old Country, g J A has sent me a sort of condensed historical guide to the metropolis, and he thinks that any of his compatriots who may be thinking of going Home might do worse than follow his example, and endeavour to learn a little of the history of the city from the various places of interest to be seen from the top of an omnibus. It would certainly seem from his account that one can see a great deal in a very short time and for a very moderate expenditure. In his role of Cicerone he says: Mr. Gladstone used to say that the best way to see London was from the top of a ’bus. If anyone cares to follow me round the big city-, let him scramble up on top of this light green ’bus which at this moment is about to leave Paddington Station, and I’ll take him through a world of history in a trifle under a 3-hours’ trip. Of course, we shall have to. be spry getting up and down the steps of the various ’buses we take, or that delightful personage, the conductor, will have some remarks to make, to which sallies even the wittiest can never adequately' reply. Round Paddington. Let us first proceed along Praedstreet, whither the old “Paddington Drag” used to run but a century ago, to what was then the charming little rustic village of Paddington. There Mrs Siddons had a miniature “country house” in the form of a rose-covered cottage. Straight ahead we cross Edge-ware-road into Mary.lebone-road, passing Madame Tussaud’s Waxworks on our left, and then Baker-street on the right, where the tall thin man lived who could tell you whether you shaved up or down by the colour of the mud or. your boots. A little farther on and we pass Regents Park, and near it is Maryflebone Parish Church, where Browning and his lady love solemnised their runaway marriage. Close by in a quaint looking house Dickens lived for a while, and wrote “Barnaby Rudge” and “The Old Curiosity Shop.” In the good old days most of the ground round here especially near Wimpole-street was a huge common, where many a daring gentleman of the road has politely asked the wayfarer for his purse; Dick Turpin himself used to visit the park which 100 years ago adjoined this common. All for Threepence. Continuing along Euston-road, we pass the famous Hampstead-road. On the corner there formerly stood a huge Norman castle, owned and occupied by King John. On the left is Gower-street, which boasts of containing one of the hardest places for “cram” in London— University College. Close bv here is Charles Darwin’s house. Straight ahead on our left are three railway stations, almost adjoining Euston, flat and squat but commodious; St. Pncras—an architectural gem without, and an engineering feat within; and King’s Cross—small, inconvenient and grimy. But we are hurrying on now into Grey’s Innroad turning to our right. This is one of the old coaching roads to London. All respectable heroes in books arrived by this route, Feilding’s Tom Jones to wit. Leaving Clerkenwell (where the Silver King lived) on our left, we come straight into Holborn. Dead ahead of u» is the famous old Staple Inn, a beautiful specimen of an original 16th century house. Many notable persons have stayed here at times. Pym and Hampden passed the night here previous to the Court of Star Chamber. A little farther up (but onr ’bus does hot go that way) is the place where Chatterton robbed England of many a fine sa-

tire in verse by taking his own life. Lower down and on our right is Barnard s Inn where Pip* of “Great Expectations” lived, and in Fetter-lane stands a bookseller’s shop on the site of Dryden’s last home. A little lower down and we reach Holborn Circus whither we have come all the way for 3d, and possibly another 3d for the conductor who has pointed out places of interest. A Famous Tavern. Our next bus takes us down Newgatestreet, j/Ml'tUs a'S the site of historic prisons. The new Old Bailey now occupies the exact site of its ancient predecessor. Behind us and on our left is Smithfield, the scene of Wat Tyler’s rebellion and many martyrdoms, and also St. Bartholomew’S Church (built 1123) and “Bart’s” Hospital. On Snow Hill, close by, stood the “Saracen’s Head” Inn, where Mr Squeers was staying when Nicholas Nickelby called on him. Just now we .are passing the spot where Coleridge and the gentle Elia went to school. If you should be round this way very early in the morning, you can,'if you will dare, obtain a cup of that weird beverage, yclept “sassagras,” which Elia’s chimney sweepers loved. Before we pass down Cheapside, look at that huge grey and black building on your left. It is the General Post Office in St. Martins-le-Grand. Down Cheapside we go, then, heading for the Bank of England. Tn passing we see' (near Fridaystreet) the site of what was perhaps the most “intellectual” of all London taverns, “The Mermaid.” Here a wealth of English wit and poetry use to assemble oh many a night in the persons of Shakespeare, . Ben Jonson, Beaumont; and Fletcher. At a tavern nearby Keats wrote his sonnet on Chapman’s Homer, while Bow Church’ whose bells, called to Dick Whittington from Highgate’Hill to be thrice Lord Mayor of London, is on our right. Incidentally none is. a real cockney' who is born outside the sound of Bow bells. Where the Money is Made. Now we reach the great financial centre of London, termed ; for short /‘The Bank.” On our left is the Bank of England, with its safe-like windowless walls: straight ahead is the Royal Exchange, while on bur left is the palatial residence of the Lord Mayor, the Mansion House. The two narrow but wealthy streets on either side of the Exchange are Threadneedle-street and Cornhill. Our bus goes along Princes-street into Moor-gate-street. Near here we come to the London wall, the site of the Roman wall which centuries ago encircled the old Londonium. Cripplegate Church (on our left) is historic for the fact that Cromwell was married, there, and Milton was buried in the chancel. A minute’s run and we are in Liverpool-street—noisy, dirty, unromantic, but typical of the modern part oi busy London. Here we take another bus for the Tower of London, passing grimy looking shops and factories, and the Minories with its coster barrows galore. In Bishopsgate-street-Within, which is behind us on our right, stands Crosby Hall, the residence of Richard 111., dating back to the 14th century. On our left is the famous Petticoat-lane, where, ’tis said, one can have a silk handkerchief stolen at one end of the street and buy it from a dealer at the other end as one walks leisurely through. Straight ahead lies our terminus, The Tower. Unconsciously one begins to think of “The Yeoman of the Guard” as one passes Tower Hill. Many a brave man and many a traitor has been sent to'the headsman on Tower Hill, the last being Lord Lovatt in 1747. The commons, of course, were not executed here, but at Tyburn. As for the Tower itself, probably no other place in England holds so many gruesome and harrowing secrets of torture, crime, and misery. Stafford, Laud, Monmouth, Anne Boleyn, Essex, and Lady Jane Grey were all executed here, while Jeffries lin-

gered out his last days in misery, for which he gets but little sympathy. Ths very stones of the Tower, grey and sinis-ter-looking, seem to tell their own. tale of a bygone day. Now may be seen all round the signs of idle loafers, which contrast strangely with the sight of many tourists bustling round who are “doing London.” All around is quiet and peaceful. The huge moat, now dried up, serves as an admirable public reserve. What used to act as a defence in case of attack now serves as a cricket pitch. The soldiers, whose mediaeval predecessors spent most of their time in warlike preparations, now amuse themselves with the games and pastimes of peace. The intelligent observer will find that many incidents of history which before were merely dry facts and names, come vividly before his mind when he sees the places with which they are associated, from his coign of vantage on the top of a London omnibus. And yet what we have seen in this fleeting glimpse is but a very small slice of all the wonders contained in the gloomy, historic and sleepless old city.