Chapter III: Preface

The great majority of English readers—on both sides of the Atlantic—claim personal acquaintance with “Samivel” Weller, Mark Tapley, Oliver Twist, and many more besides: the old companions of our schoolboy days. We cherish pleasant remembrance of the familiar “green leaves” of Dombey, David Copperfield, and the rest, as they first afforded us their monthly quota of interest and enjoyment; and have always maintained intimate relations with Captain Cuttle, Tom Pinch, Mr. Peggotty, and the more recent _dramatis personæ_ of the works of Dickens. We sympathise with Florence, Agnes, and Esther as with sisters, and keep corners of our hearts sacred to the memory of Little Nell, Paul Dombey, and the child-wife Dora.

The creations of “bonnie Prince Charlie” have thus become veritable “household words”; part and parcel of our home associations, instinct with personality and life. We never think of them as the airy nothings of imaginative fiction, but regard them as familiar friends, having “a local habitation and a name” amongst us; with whose cheerful acquaintance we could ill afford to part, and who bear us kindly company on the hot and dusty highway of our daily lives.

Charles Dickens was essentially a Londoner, always having a fond regard for the highways and by-ways of this great Metropolis, and confessedly deriving his inspiration from the varied phases of Town life and Society. We accordingly find that the main incidents and characters of his novels have here their _mise en scène_.

In homage to the genius of his favourite Author, the writer of the following pages has endeavoured to localise many of the more familiar associations of the great Novelist with as much exactitude as may be possible; but it must be remembered that London has undergone considerable alteration and reconstruction, during the last fifty years.

Thus far reads the original Preface to this Work, as written thirteen years since; the first (and smaller) edition of which was published in 1886, under the title of _Rambles in London with Charles Dickens_. The author now begs to thankfully acknowledge its favourable reception, generously accorded by the Press in particular, and the reading-world in general.

The present arrangement of the book includes some important additions as well as considerable revision, the latter being rendered necessary by the _disappearance_ of many houses and buildings in the course of intervening years, and the steady progress of Metropolitan improvements. Thus it comes to pass that only the memory of what has been remains, in regard to many of these Dickensian localities and landmarks; and it has been the object of the author (1899) to indicate the former whereabouts of these old places, as heretofore existent. Especially in the Strand and neighbourhood (Ramble I.), as well as in Chancery Lane and Holborn (Rambles II. and IV.), many alterations have taken place, and another London is springing up around a younger generation, not known to Dickens. Our Author says (in _Martin Chuzzlewit_), “Change begets change; nothing propagates so fast”: and the London of to-day, and the activities of our Metropolitan County Council, at the close of this nineteenth century, afford striking testimony to the truth of the aphorism, “The old order changeth, giving place to new.”

The _Pall Mall Magazine_, July 1896, contains a contribution by Mr. C. Dickens, junr.—“Notes on Some Dickens’ Places and People”—in which he deprecates the endeavours of those inquirers who have attempted any localisation of these places. “It is true,” says he, “that many of the places described in Charles Dickens’s books were suggested by real localities or buildings, but the more the question comes to be examined, the more clear it is that all that was done with the prototype, was to use it as a painter or a sculptor uses a sketch, and that, under the hand of the writer and in the natural process of evolution, it has grown, in almost every case, into a finished picture, with few, if any, very salient points about it to render its origin unmistakable.” He also quotes, with emphatic approval, from a review of Mr. P. Fitzgerald’s _Bozland_, then recently published: “Dickens, like Turner in the sister art of painting—like all real artists indeed—used nature, no doubt, but used it as being his slave and in no wise his master. He was not content simply to reproduce the places, persons, things that he had seen and known. He passed them through the crucible of his imagination, fused them, re-combined their elements, changed them into something richer and rarer, gave them forth as products of his art. Are we not doing him some disservice when we try to reverse the process?” “With these words I most cordially agree.—CHARLES DICKENS THE YOUNGER.”

The author of this book would submit that the attempt to preserve the memory of these localities in association with their original use by “the Master,” does _not_ “reverse the process”; but, rightly considered, may help the reader to a better comprehension of the genius and method of Dickens. The dictum of the Rev. W. J. Dawson, given a few years since in _The Young Woman_ (referring to a previous edition of this Work), is worth consideration: “The book casts a new light upon Dickens’s methods of work, and shows us how little he left to invention, and how much he owed to exact observation.” And in this connection there may be quoted the opinion of Sir Walter Besant, who published an appreciative article in _The Queen_, 9th May 1896, anent these selfsame “Rambles,” which thus concludes: “With this information in your hand, you can go down the Strand and view its streets from north to south with increased intelligence and interest. I am not certain whether peopling a street with creations of the imagination is not more useful—it is certainly more interesting—than with the real figures of the stony-hearted past.”

The writer, therefore, still believes that such a Dickensian Directory as is now prepared will be found a valuable practical guide for those who may desire to visit the haunts and homes of these old friends, whose memory we cannot “willingly let die;” and to recall the many interests connected with them by the way.

Though not professing to be infallible, he begs to assure those whom it may concern that his information—gleaned from many sources—has been collected _con amore_ with carefulness and caution; and he ventures to hope that his book may be of service to many Metropolitan visitors, as indicating (previous to the coming time when the New Zealander shall meditate over the ruins of London) some few pleasant “Rambles in Dickens’ Land.”

R. A.

LONDON, _September_ 20, 1899.

RAMBLE I _Charing Cross to Lincoln’s Inn Fields_

The Golden Cross; Associations with Pickwick and Copperfield—Craven Street; Residence of Mr. Brownlow—Charing Cross Terminus—Hungerford Stairs and Market; Lamert’s Blacking Manufactory; Micawber’s Lodgings; Mr. Dick’s Bedroom—No. 3 Chandos Street; Blacking Warehouse—Bedfordbury; “Tom All-Alone’s”—Buckingham Street; Copperfield’s Chambers—The Adelphi Arches—The Adelphi Hotel; Snodgrass and Emily Wardle—“The Fox-under-the-Hill”; Martin Chuzzlewit and Mark Tapley—The Residence of Miss La Creevy—Offices of _Household Words_ and _All the Year Round_—Covent Garden Market; Hummums and Tavistock Hotels, associated with “Great Expectations,” etc.—Bow Street—Old Bow Street Police Court; “The Artful Dodger”—Covent Garden Theatre—Broad Court; Mr. Snevellicci—St. Martin’s Hall; Dickens’s First London Readings—Russell Court; Nemo’s Burial Place—Clare Court; Copperfield’s Dining-Rooms—Old Roman Bath; Mrs. Lirriper’s Lodgings—St. Clement Danes—Portsmouth Street; “The Old Curiosity Shop”—The Old George the Fourth; “The Magpie and Stump”—Portugal Street; “The Horse and Groom”; Mr. Tony Weller and his Legal Adviser—Lincoln’s Inn Fields; Mr. John Forster’s House; Residence of Mr. Tulkinghorn.

Starting from CHARING CROSS POST OFFICE as a convenient centre, and taking an eastward course up the Strand, we immediately reach, on the left-hand (north) side—a few doors from the Post Office—The Golden Cross Hotel. Sixty years since this establishment was one of the principal Coaching Houses of the Metropolis. It was the starting-point of the Rochester Coach, by which, on May 13, 1827, _Mr. Pickwick_ and his friends commenced their travels. Driving by cab from the vicinity of that gentleman’s residence in Goswell Street, here it was that the pugnacious cabman, having mistaken the purpose of Mr. P.’s note-book, committed assault and battery upon the four Pickwickians, “sparring away like clockwork,” from which unexpected attack they were rescued by the redoubtable _Mr. Alfred Jingle_. In those days there was an arched entrance leading from the Strand beneath the front of the hotel to the coach-yard behind. Hence Mr. Jingle’s warning to his new acquaintances—“Heads, heads; take care of your heads!” which recommendation was followed by the first recorded anecdote as given by that loquacious pretender—

“Terrible place—dangerous work—other day—five children—mother—tall
lady, eating sandwiches—forgot the arch—crash—knock—children look
round—mother’s head off—sandwich in her hand—no mouth to put it
in—head of a family off—shocking—shocking.”

This coach-yard and its entrance existed until the days of _Copperfield_, who came to THE GOLDEN CROSS in the nineteenth chapter of his history, having just finished his education at Dr. Strong’s. He arrived “outside the Canterbury Coach,” and here met _Steerforth_, his former schoolboy patron, who speedily arranged for his transference from No. 44, “a little loft over a stable,” to No. 72, a comfortable bedroom next his own. Here, says David, “I fell asleep in blissful condition . . . until the early morning coaches rumbling out of _the archway underneath_ made me dream of thunder and the gods.” This entrance was abolished in 1851, giving place to a more convenient exterior arrangement and doorway; again remodelled, 1897.

THE GOLDEN CROSS is again referred to in the Copperfield experience (chapter 40) as the place where David conferred with _Mr. Peggotty_, one snowy night, after their unexpected meeting opposite St. Martin’s Church (close at hand on the north, at the corner of St. Martin’s Lane), when _Martha_ listened at the door.

“In those days there was a side entrance” (Duncannon Street, now
appropriated by the London and North-Western Railway Company) “nearly
opposite to where we stood. I pointed out the gateway, put my arm
through his, and we went across. Two or three public rooms opened
out of the stable-yard; and looking into one of them, and finding it
empty, and a good fire burning, I took him in there.”

Opposite the principal entrance of THE GOLDEN CROSS is Craven Street, leading to the Thames Embankment. It now mainly consists of private hotels and boarding-houses, at which visitors to London may be conveniently accommodated on reasonable terms. In the days of _Oliver Twist_ these were, for the most part, private houses; and here was MR. BROWNLOW’S RESIDENCE—taken after his removal from Pentonville—in which was the back parlour where full confession was extorted from _Monks_, _alias Edward Leeford_. The house, No. 39 (now _Barnett’s Private Hotel_), centrally situated on the east side, is stated to have been assigned as the residence aforesaid.

On the south side of the Strand we immediately reach the Charing Cross Terminus of the South-Eastern Railway, built on the site of old Hungerford Market. At No. 30 Hungerford Stairs, at the back of this locality, Charles Dickens, when a lad, did duty at the Blacking Manufactory of a relative, by name James Lamert, at a salary of six or seven shillings a week, as his first employment in life. It was the last house on the left-hand side of the way, a crazy, tumble-down old place abutting on the river. Here his work was to cover and label the pots of paste-blacking. To this episode of his youthful experience he refers in the history of “David Copperfield,” chapter 11, David becoming “a labouring hind” in the service of _Messrs. Murdstone and Grinby_. In old Hungerford Market, too, was THE CHANDLER’S SHOP over which _Mr. Peggotty_ slept on the night of his first arrival in London; the bedroom being afterwards appropriated by Mr. Dick.

“There was a low wooden colonnade before the door, which pleased Mr.
Dick mightily. The glory of lodging over this structure would have
compensated him for many inconveniences. . . . He was perfectly
charmed with his accommodation. Mrs. Crupp had indignantly assured
him that there wasn’t room to swing a cat there; but, as Mr. Dick
justly observed, ‘You know, Trotwood, I don’t want to swing a cat. I
never do swing a cat. Therefore, what does that signify to me!’”—See
“Copperfield,” chapters 32 and 35.

HUNGERFORD is also mentioned in the same book (chapter 57) as the place where, previous to their departure for Australia, the MICAWBER FAMILY had lodgings “in a little, dirty, tumble-down public-house, which in those days was close to the stairs, and whose protruding wooden rooms overhung the river.”

By a parallel street near at hand (next turning on the left of the Strand—Agar Street) we come into Chandos Street, where are situated the large stores of the Civil Service Supply Association, which, during recent years, have been enlarged, extending westward in Chandos Street. This extension occupies the former site of No. 3, whilom a chemist’s shop, kept by a Mr. Wellspring. Here, in the days that are gone, was established a second warehouse of Lamert’s blacking trade, the business being removed in course of time to this address; and here Dickens, with other lads, was often busily employed near the window. They acquired such dexterity in finishing off the pots, that many persons would stand outside, looking on with interest at the performance.

On the opposite side of Chandos Street is _Bedfordbury_—a northward thoroughfare leading to New Street, Covent Garden—on the right of which stands a range of five large five-storied blocks known as _Peabody’s Buildings_. These afford respectable accommodation for artizans. This was the locality of Tom All-Alone’s, that wretched rookery of evil repute in the days of _Poor Joe_, as described in chapter 16 of “Bleak House.” But, in these degenerate times, the black, dilapidated streets and tumbling tenements have given place to wholesome dwellings, and the neighbourhood is associated with the name of a great American philanthropist.

Returning to the south side of the Strand, we next come to Buckingham Street (turning on right, by No. 37), at the end house of which, on the right, facing the river, was the top set of chambers in the Adelphi, consisting of

“A little half-blind entry, where you could hardly see anything, a
little stone-blind pantry, where you could see nothing at all, a
sitting-room and a bedroom.”

Here _David Copperfield_ for some time resided under the housekeeping supervision of Mrs. Crupp, and the residence was afterwards shared by _Miss Betsy Trotwood_. At the next turning in the Strand—by No. 64, same side of the way—we arrive at Durham Street, which leads to the no thoroughfare of The Adelphi Arches, about and through which the lad Charles Dickens loved in his leisure time to roam. David Copperfield says—

“I was fond of wandering about the Adelphi, because it was a
mysterious place, with those dark arches. I see myself emerging one
evening from one of these arches, on a little public-house, close to
the river, with an open space before it, where some coal-heavers were
dancing.”

Of this place more anon.

Continuing our onward journey, we come to Adam Street (right-hand turning by No. 72), looking down which may be seen, at the corner of John Street, THE ADELPHI HOTEL. This hotel was known in the days of Pickwick as Osborn’s Hotel, Adelphi. To this establishment, it will be remembered, came _Mr. Wardle_, visiting London with his daughter Emily, after Mr. Pickwick’s release from the Fleet Prison, also accompanied by his trusty retainer, _the fat boy_, _Joe_. The last plate but one in the book illustrates the plan adopted by _Mary_ when inducing that intelligent youth to observe a discreet silence as to the visit of Mr. Snodgrass to his young mistress at this hotel; and we may recollect the _contretemps_ which afterwards took place here at dinner-time, involving the detention of the clandestine lover, and resulting in a very satisfactory _dénouement_.—See “Pickwick,” chapter 54.

Passing the next block onwards, we arrive at the handsome frontage of the HOTEL CECIL. In former days, at western corner of same, close to No. 75, there existed a narrow and precipitous passage which was formerly the approach to the halfpenny boats. It led to a little public-house, “The Fox-under-the-Hill,” for a long time shut up and in ruinous condition—once situated on the water-side, the site of which is now covered by the west wing of the Hotel Cecil.

This place is spoken of in Mr. Forster’s Biography as being one of our author’s _favourite localities_, and referred to in “Copperfield,” as before mentioned, in connection with the Adelphi Arches. This, then, was doubtless the tavern at which _Martin Chuzzlewit_, _junr._, was accommodated, on his arrival in London, “in the humbler regions of the Adelphi;” and where he was unexpectedly visited by _Mark Tapley_, who then and there became his “nat’ral born servant, hired by fate,” and his very faithful friend.—See “Martin Chuzzlewit,” chapter 13.

Farther onwards, on the same side, towards the centre of the Strand, there stood near Savoy Street the house which in all probability was the Residence of Miss La Creevy. It will be recollected that Ralph Nickleby, visiting his relations at this address in the Strand, is described as stopping

“At a private door, about halfway down that crowded thoroughfare.”

No. 111 was an old-fashioned house in just such a position, with a private door—a somewhat unusual convenience in the Strand. A photographer’s case had, for many years, displaced the “large gilt frame screwed upon the street door,” in which Miss La Creevy aforetime displayed her painted miniatures. The place has been pulled down, together with the adjoining house. Handsome modern business premises are erected on the double site.—See “Nicholas Nickleby,” chapter 2.

We now cross to the north side of the Strand, and take the next turning on the left, _Wellington Street North_. Passing the Lyceum Theatre, we may note, on the opposite side, the offices of the Gaiety Theatre, No. 16. For many years this was the Office of “Household Words”; this well-known miscellany being started under the conductorship of Charles Dickens, March 30, 1850.

It was afterwards removed to No. 26, higher up, on the same side of the way, at which address the later issue of _All the Year Round_ was published, as conducted by Charles Dickens, the son.

Proceeding a short distance onwards, and turning to the left, we come into the precincts of Covent Garden Market. At the south corner of _Russell Street_ we may note the position of the old HUMMUMS HOTEL, mentioned in “Great Expectations” as the place where Pip slept, in accordance with the warning received from Mr. Wemmick—“Don’t go home.”

The present establishment was erected on the site of the former hotel (as it stood in the days of Mr. Pip’s sojourn), 1892; on completion of the new Flower Market, THE TAVISTOCK HOTEL, Piazzas, on the north side of the market, was the house at which were held the fortnightly meetings of “The Finches of the Grove,” Herbert Pocket and Mr. Pip being members of the Club known by this appellation in the book above mentioned. The end and aim of this institution seemed to be “that the members should dine expensively once a fortnight, to quarrel among themselves as much as possible after dinner, and to cause six waiters to get drunk on the stairs.”

A general description of _Covent Garden_ will be found in “Little Dorrit” (chapter 14), and a graphic reference to “the seamy side” of this locality is contained in the pages of “Our Mutual Friend” (chapter 9,