Percy Fitzgerald - Picturesque London

PICTURESQUE LONDON.
INSCRIBED
WITH MUCH REGARD
TO

THE RIGHT HON. DAVID PLUNKET, M.P.,
FIRST COMMISSIONER OF WORKS

With a Frontispiece in Photogravure of
THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT .
(From a Drawing by Hume Nisbet .)
London :
WARD & DOWNEY,
1890.

In the following pages I have attempted to describe the numerous artistic treasures and beauties of London. These attractions are so abundant and varied, that I have not been able to do more than select specimens, as it were, of each class; but enough has been given to inspire the reader with an eagerness to set out, and make these discoveries for himself. The aim throughout has been to show that the Metropolis is as well furnished with the picturesque as any foreign city, and that there is much that is romantic and interesting, which, without a sympathetic guide, might escape notice. There are various modes of seeing sights. One, the most common, is the regular official method the Guide Book; when the stranger goes round, and stares, and takes care that he sees each object set down in his Book. No fruit or profit comes from this process, which leaves a feeling of tediousness. How welcome, on the other hand, is some living guide, the friend that knows the subject, that can point out the special merits and beauties with sympathy, describe in a few words why this or that is attractive, or admired. What was before a mere blank mass of details, now becomes vivified, and has meaning; something of this kind is, in a small way, attempted here.

These Travels in London have been the result of many years exploration. I have always found a never-failing pastime to observe as I walked, and made expeditions into far off and little known quarters, rarely without discovering something novel and unexpected. I must add, however, that these records do not pretend to be at all in the nature of a guide, or to supply historical or archological information. They simply register impressions.

In the same spirit the Illustrations have been selected, so as to convey the artistic feeling with which the various scenes impress us. I am conscious too of shortcomings, especially when I think of the conscientious labours of Peter Cunningham, Thornbury, and Walford, though in another department of the subject; but these, I trust, will be excused in consideration of the goodwill and enthusiasm, in which the work has been carried out.

P. F.

Athenum Club,
September, 1890.

T HE subject of London, old and new, has ever offered a charm and even fascination, attested by the countless works which crowd the shelves of the library. The entries under the word London fill nearly a volume of the British Museum catalogue. These old folios and quartos, grey and rusted like the churches and halls they celebrate, have a dilapidated, decayed tone, as though they also wanted restoring; and there is a welcome quaintness and sincerity in the style of such antiquaries as Northuck, Strype, Stowe, Pennant, and others, which contrast with the more prosaic tone of the modern handbooks. These old scribes belonged to that amazing and unrequited class, the county historian: such were honest, laborious Whitaker and Plot. There is nothing more pathetic than the record of these unselfish enthusiasts, who, after collecting subscriptions and devoting their lives and life-blood to these huge quartos, generally ruined themselves by the venture. Now, long after they have mouldered away, their huge tomes fetch large prices at auction; or some dapper editor of our day re-issues them, with airy notes of his own, taking care to point out the various blunders of the poor departed Dryasdust who laboured so faithfully and so modestly.

An interesting speculation might be found in considering the different ways persons have looked on the great aggregate of London. For those of fashion it is little more than an enlarged Grosvenor or Belgrave Square: it has few associations, historical or otherwise; while its curios may be useful as a sort of raree-show for the crowd. As the excellent Boswell put it, I have often amused myself with thinking how different a place London is to different people. They whose narrow minds are contracted to the consideration of some one particular pursuit, view it only through that medium. A politician thinks of it merely as the seat of government in its different departments; a grazier as a vast market for cattle; a mercantile man as a place where a prodigious deal of business is done upon Change; a dramatic enthusiast as the grand scene of theatrical entertainments; a man of pleasure as an assemblage of taverns, etc., etc.; but the intellectual man is struck with it as comprehending the whole of human life in all its variety, the contemplation of which is inexhaustible.

Stowe, Maitland, Grose, Pennant, Brayley, Leigh Hunt, with J. T. Smith, the author of Walks in London, the invaluable Peter Cunningham, and other guides and friends, in their dealings with London town seem to have been fascinated by one particular mode of treatment, viz.: the tracking out of all the personages and the social and historical incidents that are connected with particular spots. So diligently has this sort of investigation been pursued that some sort of connection has been established between every modern spot and corner and some great memory. Old houses, old inns, old streets and chambers, have all been thus registered and illustrated by quotations from books of their time. As Leigh Hunt says, Nor perhaps is there a single spot in London in which the past is not visibly present to us, either in the shape of some old buildings, or at least in the names of the streets, or in which the absence of more tangible memorials may not be supplied by the antiquary. In some parts of it we may go back through the whole English history, perhaps through the history of man, as when we speak of St. Pauls Churchyard, a place in which you may get the last new novel, and find remains of the ancient Britons and of the sea. There also, in the Cathedral, lie painters, patriots, humorists, the greatest warriors and some of the best men; and there, in St. Pauls School, was educated Englands epic poet, who hoped that his native country would never forget her privilege of teaching the nations how to live.

Elia seems to touch a more sympathetic note. He was, indeed, an idolater of the city. London, he cried, whose dirtiest Arab-frequented alley, and her lowest-bowing tradesman I would not exchange for Skiddaw, Helvellyn, James, Walter, and the parson into the bargain. Oh! her lamps of a night, her rich goldsmiths, print shops, toy shops, mercers, hardwaremen, pastrycooks, St. Pauls Churchyard, the Strand, Exeter Change, Charing Cross, and the man upon a black horse. These are thy gods, O London! All her streets and pavements are pure gold, I warrant you. At least I know an alchemist that turns her mud into that metala mind that loves to be at home in crowds. This is pleasant rapture. In another place he grows almost wanton over what he calls the furniture of his world, that is, streets, streets, streets, markets, theatres, churches, Covent Gardens, shops sparkling with pretty faces of industrious milliners, neat seamstresses, ladies cheapening, gentlemen behind counters lying, authors in the streets with spectacles ... lamps lit at night, pastrycooks and silversmiths shops, beautiful Quakers of Pentonville, noise of coaches, drowsy cry of mechanic watchmen at night, with bucks reeling home drunk. If you happen to wake at midnight, cries of Fire! and Stop thief! Inns of Court with their learned air, and halls and butteries, just like Cambridge colleges; old bookstalls Jeremy Taylors, Burtons on Melancholy, on every stall. These are the pleasures of London ... for these may Keswick and the giant brood go hang. And his humorous