CHAPTER XXXVI.
OXFORD STREET: NORTHERN TRIBUTARIES.—TOTTENHAM COURT ROAD.
"There is a fiercer crowded misery
In garret-toil and London loneliness
Than in cruel islands in the far-off sea."—Anon.
Rathbone Place—Mrs. Mathew and her Literary and Artistic Friends—The "Percy Coffee House" and the "Percy Anecdotes"—Noted Inhabitants of Rathbone Place—Reminiscence of Mr. J. T. Smith—Hanway Street—Jonas Hanway and the Introduction of Umbrellas into
England—A Veritable Centenarian—An Ingenious Piece of Glass-painting—The "Oxford" Music Hall—Experiments in Street-paving—Percy Street and Percy Chapel—Charlotte Street—George Morland—The Small-pox Hospital—Tottenham Street—The Prince of Wales's
Theatre—St. John's Church—The Hogarth Club—Dressmakers' and Milliners' Association—Fitzroy Square—A Favourite Locality for
Artists—Warren Street—Dr. Kitchiner—Whitfield Street—Tottenham Court Road—Tottenham Court Fair—Whitefield's Tabernacle—A
Grim Story—An Eccentric Character—"Peg" Fryer, the Actress—The "Blue Posts" Tavern—Dickens' Fondness for Stale Buns.
We have now fairly turned our backs on the
fashionable quarter of London, for a time, at least,
and in the last and present chapters find ourselves
in quite a different world to that over which we
have been travelling ever since we left the neighbourhood of the Strand and the purlieus of Westminster. We no longer move about under the
windows of dukes and duchesses, lords and ladies,
gay courtiers, or well-dressed wits; we come back
into the midst of a prosaic and work-a-day world—a world which lives in furnished and often in unfurnished lodgings, in garrets and attics, and even in
cellars; a world which knows more of the interior
of the pawnbroker's shop and the gin palace than
of a club or a church; and where poverty is almost
hopeless. And yet the view is not all black or
dark: intermixed with those low and squalid
thoroughfares are some fine streets and handsome
squares; there are a few public buildings or private
mansions; but the carriages that roll by, or stand
at the doors of some of the residents, are perceptibly fewer; and, generally speaking, there is
about the neighbourhood an air of repose and
retirement which contrasts agreeably, in the height
of the season, with the bustle which pervades
Regent Street, and with what the poet calls—
"Beatæ
Fumum et opes strepitumque Romæ."
In this locality have lived and toiled many men
who, in after life, have won for themselves names
that will remain imperishable in the annals of art
and literature; and some of the streets through
which we are about to proceed have been rendered
sacred by the early struggles of many an artist who
has subsequently reached the highest honours of
the Royal Academy.

MAP OF RATHBONE PLACE AND NEIGHBOURHOOD. (From Rocques's Map, 1746.)
Few who have read Goldsmith will forget his
description of an author's bedchamber in this immediate neighbourhood:—
"Where the 'Red Lion' staring o'er the way,
Invites the passing stranger—that can pay;
Where Calvert's butt and Parsons' black champagne
Regale the drabs and bloods of Drury Lane;
There in a lowly room, from bailiffs snug.
The Muse found Scroggins stretched beneath a rug.
A window patched with paper lent a ray
That dimly showed the state in which he lay,
The sanded floor, that grits beneath the tread,
And humid walls with paltry pictures spread."
The above lines, evidently drawn from life, might
be applied with equal truth in former times to many
a poor struggling artist as to those who wield the
pen; but let us hope that now-a-days, as a rule,
genius, whether literary or artistic, is better housed.
Rathbone Place, the first turning to the eastward
of Newman Street, perpetuates the name of its
builder, a Captain Rathbone, and an inscription
on one of the houses, "Rathbone Place, Oxford
Street, 1718," fixes the date of its erection. As
the "Tyburn Road" does not appear to have been
generally known as "Oxford Street" till some ten
or eleven years later, though occasionally so named
in legal documents, (fn. 1) the inscription is the more
worthy of being placed on record here. In Ralph
Aggas's plan of London, the commencement of
this street is designated "The Waye to Uxbridge;"
further on, in the same plan, the highway is called
"Oxford Road." In this map cows are represented grazing in a field on the site now occupied
by Rathbone Place.
In 1784, according to Mr. J. T. Smith, in his
"Book for a Rainy Day," this street consisted
entirely of private houses, and its inhabitants were
all of high respectability. "I have heard Mrs.
Mathew say," he adds, "that the three rebel lords,
Lovat, Kilmarnock, and Balmerino, had at different
times resided in it."
Mrs. Mathew was the wife of the Rev. Henry
Mathew, for whom Percy Chapel, close by, was
built. At their house, towards the close of the
last century, used to meet a knot of literary,
musical, and artistic celebrities, including Flaxman
and William Blake, the long-forgotten artist and
poet, who would sometimes recite his verses to the
company. Of Blake Mr. Smith predicted, with
great judgment, that a day would come when his
drawings would be sought after with the most
intense avidity, adding that, although little known
to the world at large, he was regarded by Flaxman
and Stothard with the highest admiration. The
prophecy has of late years been fulfilled, and
Blake's powers, as an artist and a poet, are now
recognised at their true worth. It was through
Mr. Mathew's influence, combined with that of
Flaxman, that Blake's first volume of poems was
issued in 1782. We have already spoken of
Blake's career in our account of the neighbourhood
of Golden Square. In return for the friendly
welcome which he always received from Mr. and
Mrs. Mathew, Flaxman decorated the walls of
their parlour with models of figures in classical
and tasteful niches. But these have long since
perished.

EXTERIOR OF THE TOTTENHAM STREET THEATRE, 1830.
Rathbone Place has always borne an artistic
reputation, and at present it is the head-quarters
of artists' repositories, and of vendors of paints
and drawing materials. Mr. Peter Cunningham
reminds us in his "Hand-book of London" that
"the well-known publication called the 'Percy
Anecdotes,' edited by Sholto and Reuben Percy,
derives its name from the 'Percy Coffee-house,'
in Rathbone Place—now no more—where the idea
of the work was first started by two friends, Mr.
George Byerley and Mr. Joseph C. Robinson,
who assumed the noms de plume of the Brothers
Percy, of a certain apocryphal monastery." These
brothers also wrote a "History of London," in
three small volumes; one of them was also editor
of the Mechanics' Magazine and the other editor
of the Mirror. Mr. John Timbs, in his "Autobiography," tells us that the idea of the "Percy
Anecdotes" was likewise "claimed by Sir Richard
Phillips, who stoutly maintained that he suggested
to Dr. Tilloch and Mr. Mayne to cut the anecdotes
from the many years' files of the Star newspaper,
of which Dr. Tilloch was then editor, and Mr.
Byerley assistant editor; and to the latter overhearing the suggestion, Sir Richard contested,
might the 'Percy Anecdotes' be traced. The Star
was an evening paper, and well-timed anecdotes
were its spécialité. Mr. Thomas Boys, the publisher of Ludgate Hill, realised a large sum by the
sale of the 'Percy' work; and no inconsiderable
portion of its success must be referred to the
publisher's taste. The portrait illustrations, mostly
engraved by Fry, were admirable. The work had,
moreover, this remarkable commendation of Lord
Byron, who said, 'No man that has any pretensions
to figure in good society can fail to make himself
familiar with the 'Percy Anecdotes.'"
Rathbone Place numbered among its residents,
in former times, Mr. Nathaniel Hone, R.A., the
painter of the picture called the "Conjurer." He
died here in 1784. In 1826, Mr. E. H. Baily,
R.A., the sculptor, was living here; as also was
Mr. Peter De Wint, the water-colour painter. Here
lived the learned Baron Maseres, author of the
"Scriptores Logarithmici." He died in 1824, at
the age of ninety-three. In 1836, all mention of
the street is struck out from the "Blue Book."
Such is the westward march of fashion.
The locality of Rathbone Place and Windmill
Street, which lies immediately to the north of it,
is thus mentioned by Mr. J. T. Smith, in "Nollekens and his Times:"—
"One day, in a walk with me, Nollekens stopped
at the corner of Rathbone Place, and observed
that when he was a little boy his mother used often
to take him to the top of that street to walk by the
side of a long pond near a windmill, which then
stood on the site of the chapel in Charlotte Street,
and that he recollected that a halfpenny was paid
by every person at the hatch belonging to the
miller for the privilege of walking in his grounds.
He also told me that his mother took him through
another 'halfpenny hatch' in the fields between
Oxford Street and Grosvenor Square, the northern
side of which was then in the course of building.
When we got as far as the brew-house, between
Rathbone Place and the end of Tottenham Court
Road, he told me that he recollected thirteen large
and fine walnut-trees standing on the north side
of the way, between Hanover Yard and the Castle
Inn, a little beyond the Star Brewery."
Passing along Oxford Street for a short distance,
we arrive at Hanway Street, which was originally a
zigzag country lane, leading out of the Uxbridge
Road into Tottenham Court Road. It was at first,
says Mr. J. T. Smith, better known by the vulgar
people under the name of "Hanover Yard," and
subsequently Hanway Yard, and it was for some
time the resort of the highest fashions for mercery,
and other articles of dress; and it has continued to
this day to be noted for its china-dealers and
curiosity shops, as it was in days of yore when
high-heeled shoes and stiff brocades were all the
rage.
The author of "The Old City," who wrote under
the assumed name of "Aleph," and was a native
of St. Giles's, remembered this thoroughfare when
it was still called Hanway Yard. It was narrow
and dirty, and full of old china-shops, including
Baldock's, "a sort of museum for Chinese horses
and dragons, queer-looking green vases, and dollsized teacups;" and at the Oxford Street end
stood a muffin and crumpet shop, which had about
it an air of mystery and romance, as a suspected
depository of smuggled goods. Another shop, for
the sale of Dutch toys, was kept by an old woman
named Patience Flint, a thin, little, shrunken old
dame, who dressed in a close-fitting gingham gown,
and wore a stiff muslin cap tightly drawn over her
forehead. She rarely spoke, but conducted her
business by signs, holding up four fingers to denote
that the price of a cup or a saucer was fourpence,
and scarcely eating, drinking, or sleeping at all.
One winter's morning "Aleph" went to the shop,
but found it closed, and that the neighbours were
about to follow the old woman of Hanway Yard to
the burial-ground at St. Pancras. The coffin-plate
bore the inscription, "Patience Flint, aged 109
years."
In Hanway Street, in 1808, there was living
a certain Mrs. Elizabeth Alexander, aged 106,
under a portrait of whom, published in that year,
appear the words, "Supposed to be the oldest
woman in England."
How Hanway Street came to be so called, we
have no definite authority for stating. It may probably have been named after one Jonas Hanway,
to whom we are mainly indebted for bringing
into general use in England that very necessary
article of daily need—in our variable climate, at
least—the umbrella. Hanway's name had already
become favourably known in London, from his
many schemes of benevolence. He originated both
the Marine Society and the Magdalen, and, in conjunction with Captain Coram, he was active in promoting the foundation of the Foundling Hospital,
of which we shall speak in a future chapter. In
respect to his courage and perseverance in bringing
umbrellas into general use, Hanway was a greater
benefactor than at first might be supposed. Gay's
poem of "Trivia," it is true, commemorates the
earlier use of an umbrella by poor women, "tuck'dup-sempstresses" and "walking maids;" but even
with this class it was a winter privilege, and woe to
the woman of a better sort, or to the man, whether
rich or poor, who dared at any time so to invade
the rights of coachmen and chairmen. But Hanway
steadily underwent all the staring, laughing, jeering,
hooting, and bullying; and having punished some
insolent knaves who struck him with their whips as
well as their tongues, he finally succeeded in overcoming the prejudices against it. Jonas made a
less successful move when he tried to write down
the use of tea.
With reference to the above subject, we quote
the following from Chambers's "Book of Days:"—"The eighteenth century was half elapsed before
the umbrella had even begun to be used in England
by both sexes, as we now see it used. In 1752
Lieutenant-Colonel (afterwards General) Wolfe,
writing from Paris, says: 'The people here use
umbrellas in hot weather to defend them from the
sun, and something of the same kind to save them
from the snow and rain. I wonder a practice so
useful is not introduced in England.' Just about
that time a gentleman did exercise the moral courage
to use an umbrella in the streets of London. He
was the noted Jonas Hanway, newly returned
from Persia, and in delicate health, by which, of
course, his using such a convenience was justified
both to himself and the considerate part of the
public. 'A parapluie,' we are told, 'defended Mr.
Hanway's face and wig.' For a time no others
than the dainty beings called Macaronies ventured
to carry an umbrella. Any one doing so was sure
to be hailed by the mob as 'a mincing Frenchman.'
One John MacDonald, a footman, who has favoured
the public with his memoirs, found, as late as 1770,
that on appearing with a fine silk umbrella which
he had brought from Spain, he was saluted with the
cry of 'Frenchman, why don't you get a coach?'
It appears, however, as if there had previously been
a kind of transition period, during which an umbrella was kept at a coffee-house, liable to be used
by gentlemen on special occasions by night, though
still regarded as the resource of effeminacy. In the
Female Tatler of December 12, 1709, there occurs
the following announcement: 'The young gentleman belonging to the Custom House, who, in the
fear of rain, borrowed the umbrella at Will's Coffeehouse, in Cornhill, of the mistress, is hereby advertised that to be dry from head to foot, he shall be
welcome to the maid's pattens.' It is a rather early
fact in the history of the general use of umbrellas,
that in 1758, when Dr. Shebbeare was placed in the
pillory, a servant stood beside him with an umbrella
to protect him from the weather, physical and
moral, which was raging around him. . . . About
thirty years ago, there was living in Taunton a lady
who recollected when there were but two umbrellas
in that town; one belonging to a clergyman, who,
on proceeding to his duties on Sunday, hung up
the umbrella in the church porch, where it attracted
the gaze and admiration of the townspeople coming
to church."
We must not, however, be too severe in our
censure of the folly of the public in mocking at
the use of umbrellas, when we remember in our
own day, even so very recently as the beginning
of the Crimean War, it was regarded as almost a
mark of insanity for a private gentleman to wear
a beard.
At No. 15 in Oxford Street, a few doors eastward
of Hanway Street, was exhibited, in 1830, a most
ingenious piece of glass-painting of the "Tournament of the Field of Cloth of Gold," elaborately
worked out from Hall's "Chronicles," and containing upwards of a hundred figures and forty
portraits. It cost the designer, a Mr. Wilmhurst,
upwards of £3,000, and covered 432 square feet.
After it had been exhibited in the metropolis for
little more than a year, this painting was destroyed
by fire.
Further eastward, and near the junction of Oxford
Street with Tottenham Court Road, is the "Oxford"
Music Hall, occupying the site of the old "Boar
and Castle Hostelry and Posting House," which
dated back to about the year 1620. The "Oxford"
was one of the earliest and most popular of the
metropolitan music-halls, and the present is the
third building of the kind which has occupied the
same site, the two previous halls having been
destroyed by fire. It consists of a spacious room in
the rear of the hotel, facing the street, and to which
it is attached; and it has a lofty arched entrance,
which, together with the hall itself, is tastefully
decorated. The hall is fitted up with a stage, and
around the other three sides there is a gallery or
balcony. The performances given here consist of
selections from popular operas, comic and sentimental singing, glees, duets, &c., with an occasional
acrobatic performance.
In 1839 the roadway of Oxford Street was made
the subject of some experimental paving. The
space between Tottenham Court Road and Charles
Street was laid with a dozen different specimens
either in wood, stone, bitumen, asphalte, or some
other material; the whole, being laid in different
patterns, presented a most even and beautiful roadway. The Mirror remarks that "the portion to
which attention was more particularly directed was
that of the wooden blocks, the noiseless tendency
of which made the vehicles passing along appear
to be rolling over a thick carpet or rug." These
experiments being somewhat in advance of the age,
and the public taste not being ripe for change, the
roadway was suffered to remain unaltered. The
subject, in fact, appears at that time to have elicited
but little public interest; indeed, one magnate, Sir
Peter Laurie, was as strongly resolved to oppose all
wood-paving as he was to "put down suicide."
In connection with these experiments, a statement
was published by the Marylebone Vestry, which will
give the reader some idea of the immense traffic in
the streets of London in 1839:—"On Wednesday,
the 16th of January, from six in the morning until
twelve at night, by the Pantheon, 347 gentlemen's
two-wheel carriages, 935 four-wheel, 890 omnibuses,
621 two-wheel and 752 four-wheel hackney carriages, 91 stage-coaches, 372 wagons and drays,
1,507 light carts and sundries; total, 5,515. By
Stafford Place, on Friday, the 18th of January, the
total is 4,753, out of which 1,213 were omnibuses;
on Tuesday, the 22nd of the same month, by
Newman Street, the total was 6,992; and on Satur
day, by Stafford Place, the total is stated to be
5,943." The number of vehicles passing through
Oxford Street at the present time, we need hardly
state, is probably double what it was forty years
ago, notwithstanding the introduction of underground railways.
Passing from these dry matter-of-fact statements,
we may add that this thoroughfare has witnessed
some amusing scenes: for instance, the punishment
of a Tom and Jerry boy of the older school, as recorded in the Post Boy of December 14th, 1747.
The culprit, a carpenter, was whipped from the
watch-house in Great Marlborough Street to the
"Blue Posts" in Poland Street, for stealing the
knockers from gentlemen's doors. He had two
brass knockers tied round his neck.
A much pleasanter scene, however, was witnessed
in Oxford Street, in the early part of 1872, on the
occasion of the Prince of Wales returning thanks at
St. Paul's Cathedral on his recovery from a dangerous illness. In obedience to the wishes of the
inhabitants, the return journey of the Queen and
the Royal Family to Buckingham Palace was made
by way of Holborn and Oxford Street, and the whole
line of route was beautifully decorated with flags
and streamers.
At the northern end of Rathbone Place, and
running eastward into Tottenham Court Road, is
Percy Street, which is chiefly noticeable on account
of the chapel near its western end. The fabric,
which is known as Percy Chapel, was erected about
1790 by the Rev. Mr. Mathew, of whom we have
spoken above. It was for some years the scene of
the pastoral labours of the Rev. Robert Montgomery, the author of "Satan," "Luther," "Oxford,"
"The Christian Life," "The Omnipresence of the
Deity," and other poems, who died in 1855. The
article on his poems in "Macaulay's Essays" is
probably one of the severest pieces of criticism
ever published.
In this street lived the parents of Henry West
Betty, "the youthful Roscius," at the time when
the child made his first appearance at Covent
Garden Theatre, and took the town by storm.
We shall have occasion to speak of him further,
when we come to Camden Town.
Charlotte Street, the thoroughfare leading from
Rathbone Place to Fitzroy Square, was named
either after Charlotte, Duchess of Grafton, or after
the Queen of George III. Here, in the house
formerly occupied by Sir Thomas Apreece, George
Morland, the celebrated painter, was living in 1796.
Mr. J. T. Smith thus records a visit which he paid
him in that year, in company with a generous
patron of art and artists, Mr. Wigston:—"He received us in the drawing-room, which was filled
with easels, canvases, stretching-frames, gallipots of
colour, and oilstones; a stool, chair, and a three-legged table were the only articles of furniture of
which this once splendid apartment could then
boast. Mr. Wigston immediately bespoke a picture,
for which he gave him a draft for forty pounds,
that sum being exactly the money he then wanted;
but this gentleman had, like most of that artist's
employers, to ply him close for his picture."
On the east side of Charlotte Street is Windmill
Street. Here, in the early part of the reign of
George III., the Small Pox Hospital was first
established; it was afterwards removed to King's
Cross, and thence to Highgate Rise.
Goodge Street was so called after the speculating
builder who erected the houses in it. In 1772,
the date of the map in Northouck's "History of
London," it appears to have been called Crabtree
Street.
Further northward, running parallel with Goodge
Street, and crossing Charlotte Street, is Tottenham
Street. Here is one of the most fashionable of
the London theatres, the Prince of Wales's. The
building was originally the concert-room of Signor
F. Pasquali, and was purchased and enlarged by
the directors of the Concerts of Ancient Music,
who built a superb box for George III. and Queen
Charlotte. Early in the present century it was
fitted up by Colonel Greville for a body of amateur
dramatists, called the "Picnics," "whose celebrity," writes Mr. J. Timbs, "rendered them objects of alarm to the professional actors of the day,
and exposed them to the attacks of the caricaturist, Gilray." In 1807, or the following year, like
the Olympic, it was converted into a sort of circus
for equestrian performances, but it never in this
respect rivalled Astley's. In 1820 it passed into
the hands of Mr. Brunton, whose daughter, Mrs.
Yates, was one of its greater stars. The ring had,
in due course of time, given place to a pit, which
is described, six years later, by Mr. J. R. Planché,
as being "about as dark and dingy a den as ever
sheltered the children of Thespis." Its out-of-the-way and unfashionable situation, however, did not
prevent the "upper ten thousand" from patronising
it occasionally.
In some of the earliest bills it is called "The New
Theatre," the "King's Ancient Concert Rooms,"
Tottenham Street; afterwards it took the names
of the "Regency," the "Theatre of Varieties," and
the "West London," and after the accession of
William IV., "The Queen's," out of compliment
to Queen Adelaide. An attempt was made, in
the year 1831, by Mr. Macfarren, to turn it into a
sort of English Opera House, but it was not successful. Two years or so later it acquired a transitory celebrity under the name of "The Fitzroy,"
as the home of burlesque, and afterwards of French
plays. In 1835 it was taken by Mrs. Nesbitt, who
re-opened it under its old name of "The Queen's."
It was for some time under the management of
Madame Vestris; but its career seems to have
been anything but flourishing until the year 1865,
when it was taken by Miss Marie Wilton (afterwards
Mrs. Bancroft), in the joint capacity of lessee and
manager, who partly reconstructed the theatre and
altered its name to the "Prince of Wales's."
In Charlotte Street, on the east side, between
Tottenham and North Streets, is the church of St.
John the Evangelist. The edifice, which is in the
Norman or Romanesque style of architecture, was
built from the designs of Hugh Smith, and was
consecrated in 1846. At the western end is a
tower and spire, about 120 feet in height, and it
has a large wheel window beneath the intervening
gable.
At No. 84 in this street is the "Hogarth Club,"
founded in 1870, and strictly limited in its members to artists, architects, and sculptors. Here
conversazioni are held during the season, and the
pictures and drawings of members are shown previous to being exhibited publicly at the Royal
Academy, the Dudley Gallery, or the Gallery of
British Artists.
At No. 98 are the offices of the Association for
the Aid and Benefit of Dressmakers and Milliners.
This institution, which was founded in 1844, provides a home for deserving young persons, and
assists them in obtaining employment; it also
affords pecuniary and medical aid to those in distress, and there are also, in connection with the
association, almshouses for the aged and decayed.
The erection of Fitzroy Square, which we now
enter, was begun about the year 1790. According
to Mr. Cunningham, it commemorates the name of
Charles Fitzroy, the second Duke of Grafton (whose
father, the first duke, was a natural son of King
Charles II., by Barbara Villiers, Duchess of Cleveland), to whom the lease of the Manor of Tottenham Court descended in right of his mother, Lady
Isabella Bennet, the daughter and heiress of Henry
Bennet, Earl of Arlington, one of the five statesmen who composed the "Cabal" Ministry of the
above-named king.
In consequence of the stagnation to trade
generally, caused by the wars at the close of the
last and the beginning of the present centuries,
this square remained a long time unfinished, the
south and east sides alone being built. In the
"Beauties of England and Wales," published in
1815, it is described as "not yet completed. The
houses," continues the writer, "are faced with
stone, and have a greater portion of architectural
embellishment than most others in the metropolis."
They were designed by the brothers Adam, already
familiar to our readers in connection with the
Adelphi and Portland Place.
Between Fitzroy Square and Tottenham Court
Road was Fitzroy Market. It consisted of a
number of small and dark tenements, and was
pulled down in 1875.
The neighbourhood of Fitzroy Square has for
a long time been a favourite haunt of painters,
no doubt on account of the excellence of the light
on the northern side, by reason of the vicinity of
the Regent's Park. Indeed, from 1810 to 1830,
all the neighbourhood between this square and
Oxford Street appears, from an examination of the
"Blue Books" and "Court Guides," to have been
studded with artists, among whom figure a few
R.A.'s, rari nantes in gurgite vasto. Among the
former, living in Charlotte Street, are the names
of Mr. C. L. Eastlake (afterwards President of the
Royal Academy), Mr. (afterwards Sir) W. C. Ross,
A.R.A., miniature painter to the Queen; in this
street, too, lived John Constable, R.A., during the
last fifteen years of his life. He died in 1837, and
lies buried at Hampstead.
In Russell Place lived Daniel Maclise, the gifted
Royal Academician, until a short time before his
lamented decease, in 1870, whilst in the zenith of
his fame. Maclise was a
native of Cork, but settled in
London in 1827, and
in the following year
became a student at
the Royal Academy.
He became an Associate of the Royal
Academy in 1835,
and five years later attained the full honours. In
1866, on the death of Sir Charles Eastlake, the
presidential chair of the Royal Academy was
offered for his acceptance, but was declined.
Besides his two large wall-paintings in the new
Houses of Parliament—"The Meeting of Wellington and Blucher at Waterloo," and the "Death of
Nelson," Maclise will be, perhaps, best remembered by his "Play Scene in Hamlet," in the
national collection, the "Banquet Scene in Macbeth," and the "Vow of the Ladies and the
Peacock." One of Mr. Maclise's latest works
was "The Earls of Desmond and Ormond,"
painted in the year of his death. In 1835–6 Mr.
Maclise was living in the same neighbourhood, at
No. 63, Upper Charlotte Street. At this house a
sketching society used often to
meet, including Eastlake, Stanfield, David Roberts,
Decimus Burton, and
the brothers Alfred and
John Chalon. They
met at each other's
rooms, the host of the
evening giving out
the subject, and an hour was the time allowed for
each to work out his conception. When the artists
went further a-field into the suburbs, this little
coterie broke up. In the "Blue Books" of the
period above mentioned there is also a sprinkling of
"honourables," and baronets, and knights named
as living here; but these have all disappeared
when we come to the reign of Victoria.

WHITEFIELD'S TABERNACLE, 1820.
In London Street, which runs from Cleveland
Street into Tottenham Court Road, lived, in 1841,
E. W. Wyon, the sculptor, and Miss Chalon, sister
to the brothers Chalon, and herself also an artist of
considerable repute. Upper Fitzroy Street, in 1826,
had among its residents, Mr. (afterwards Sir) Robert
Smirke, R.A., the architect of the General Post
Office and other public buildings.

THE "ADAM AND EVE" TAVERN, 1750.

THE MANOR HOUSE OF TOTEN HALL. (From a View published by Wilkinson, 1813.)
Warren Street, on the north of Fitzroy Square,
running parallel to the Euston Road, was so called,
probably, after the wife of the first Lord Southampton, Anne, daughter and co-heiress of Admiral
Sir Peter Warren. Some of the houses in it have
a double frontage. In this street in 1817, and for
several years subsequently, resided the celebrated
Dr. Kitchiner, author of some works which have
made his name widely known—the most celebrated
being "The Cook's Oracle," which has passed
through several editions. He was the son of a coal
merchant residing in Beaufort Buildings, Strand,
and was born in 1775. He received his education
at Eton, and took his degree at Glasgow; but as he
inherited a good fortune from his father, he did not
follow his profession. In Allibone's "Dictionary
of English Literature" he is described as "a native
of London, celebrated for writing good books and
giving good dinners." His hours of rising, eating,
and retiring to rest were all regulated by system.
His lunches, to which only the favoured few had
the privilege of entrée, were superb. They consisted of potted meats of various kinds, fried fish,
savoury pâtes, rich liqueurs, &c., in great variety
and abundance. His dinners, unless when he had
parties, were comparatively plain and simple, served
in an orderly manner, cooked according to his own
maxims, and placed upon the table invariably
within five minutes of the time announced. His
public dinners were things of more pomp, ceremony,
and etiquette: they were announced by notes of
preparation, of which the following will serve as a
specimen:—
"Dear Sir,—The honour of your company is requested to dine with the Committee of Taste, on
Wednesday next, the 10th inst. The specimens
will be placed upon the table at five o'clock precisely, when the business of the day will immediately
commence. I have the honour to be your most
obedient servant, W. Kitchiner, Secretary.
"At the last general meeting it was unanimously
resolved that—1st. An invitation to Eta, Beta, Pi
must be answered in writing as soon as possible after it is received, within twenty-four hours at
latest, reckoning from that on which it is dated,
otherwise the secretary will have the profound
regret to feel that the invitation has been definitely
declined. 2nd. The secretary having represented
that the perfection of several of the preparations is
so exquisitely evanescent, that the delay of one
minute after their arrival at the meridian of concoction will render them no longer worthy of men of
taste: therefore, to ensure the punctual attendance
of those illustrious gastrophilists who on grand
occasions are invited to join this high tribunal of
taste for their own pleasure and the benefit of their
country, it is irrevocably resolved, 'That the janitor
be ordered not to admit any visitor, of whatever
eminence of appetite, after the hour which the
secretary shall have announced that the specimens
are ready.' By order of the Committee, William
Kitchiner, Secretary."
Dr. Kitchiner possessed an extensive library, for
in the introduction to the "Cook's Oracle" he
gives a list of the titles of about 217 different
books treating of the subject of cookery, all of
which, he tells us, he consulted in the preparation of
the book above named. Another of his books was
entitled, "The Art of Invigorating and Prolonging
Life by Food, Clothes, Air, Exercise, Wine, Sleep,
&c., and Peptic Precepts," to which is added "The
Pleasure of Making a Will." He was likewise a
connoisseur in telescopes, and in his "Economy of
the Eyes"—a book abounding with many curious
facts of great interest to amateur astronomers—he
gives a description of fifty-one telescopes, reflecting
and achromatic, which he purchased or had made
for him during his thirty years' experience as an
astronomical amateur, at an expense of more than
£2,000. Among other eccentric habits of Dr.
Kitchiner which are on record, is one to the effect
that it was his practice always to take his own wine
with him when he went out to dinner. His will
was remarkable for its eccentricity, and it is said
that another, making serious alterations in the disposal of his property, was intended for signature
on the day following his death, which happened
suddenly, on the 26th of February, 1827.
The Euston Road; Cleveland Street, which
runs thence southwards, towards Newman Street;
Grafton Street, which leads from the south-east
corner of Fitzroy Square into Tottenham Court
Road; and Southampton Street, which skirts the
west side of the square, are all so called after the
various family connections of the ducal house of
Grafton, and of Lord Southampton.
On the east side of Fitzroy and Charlotte Streets,
and running parallel with Tottenham Court Road,
is Whitfield Street, so named after the Rev. George
Whitfield, or Whitefield, of whom we shall speak on
reaching the "Tabernacle" in Tottenham Court
Road. Here are two cross streets, bearing the
names of Pitt and Lord North respectively, and
thereby declaring the date of their erection; but
they are quite barren of incident and history.
Passing through Grafton Street, we enter Tottenham Court Road. This name, like that of Covent
Garden, is a popular corruption, sinning, however,
rather strangely, by way of elongation instead of
abridgment. The country road which, three or
four centuries ago, ran northwards from St. Giles's
Pound, between green hedges and open fields, was
so called from Totten, or Totham, or Totting Hall,
the manor-house of which stood at the north-west
corner of four cross-ways, on the site of what now
is the "Adam and Eve," celebrated in Hogarth's
picture in the last century, and of which we shall
have to speak in a future chapter. This manorhouse, it appears, belonged to one William de Tottenhall, as far back as the reign of Henry III.
It is described in "Domesday Book" as belonging to the Dean and Chapter of St. Paul's. After
changing hands several times, the manor was leased
for ninety-nine years to Queen Elizabeth, when it
came popularly to be called Tottenham Court.
In the next century it appears to have become
the property of the Fitzroys, who erected Fitzroy
Square, upon a part of the manor estate, towards
the end of the last century; and the property still
belongs to the Fitzroys, Lord Southampton. In
the map in Northouck's "History of London"
(1772), a turnpike-gate is marked at the top of
Tottenham Court Road, but this has long since
disappeared.
In 1748 Tottenham Court Fair was kept for
fourteen days without interruption, but "it does
not appear," says Mr. Frost, in his "Old Showmen," "to have been attended by any of the shows
which contributed so much to the attractiveness of
the fairs of Smithfield and Southwark Green." In
fact, although the notices of the fair make mention
of a great theatrical booth, it seems to have been
devoted rather to wrestling and singlestick than to
purely Thespian purposes. These booths were
occasionally used for the settlement of "affairs of
honour" by means of pugilistic encounters. The
challenges were duly announced in the newspapers
of the day, in the form of advertisements. Here
is one which appeared in 1772:—"Challenge.—I,
Elizabeth Wilkinson, of Clerkenwell, having had
some words with Hannah Hyfield, and require
satisfaction, do invite her to meet me upon the
stage, and box me for three guineas; each woman
holding half-a-crown in each hand, and the first
woman that drops the money to lose the battle."
"Answer.—I Hannah Hyfield, of Newgate Market,
hearing of the resoluteness of Elizabeth Wilkinson,
will not fail, God willing, to give her more blows
than words, desiring home blows, and from her no
favour; she may expect a good thumping!" The
half-crowns were an ingenious device to prevent
scratching. Cock-fighting, bull-baiting, and other
"sporting" advertisements, accompany these ladylike diversions.
Mr. J. T. Smith thus writes, in his "Book for a
Rainy Day:"—"Notwithstanding that Tottenham
Court Road was for the most part frequented by
persons of the lowest order, who kept in it what
they styled a 'Gooseberry Fair,' it was famous at
certain seasons, and particularly in the summer,
for its booths of regular theatrical performers, who
deserted the empty benches of Drury Lane Theatre,
under the management of Mr. Fleetwood, and condescended to admit the audience at sixpence a
head. Mr. Yates, and other eminent performers,
had their names painted on their booths." This
must have been about the year 1777.
Tottenham Court Fair appears, from Mr. Frost's
"Old Showmen," to have risen into sudden fame
and celebrity about the end of George I. or the
beginning of George II. Mr. Frost is unable to
trace the origin of the fair, but contents himself with
telling us that "it began on the 4th of August,
and that Lee, Harper, and Petit set up a 'show'
in it, behind the 'King's Head,' in the Hampstead
Road. The entertainments," he adds, "were
Bateman and the Ridolto al fresco." Of the exact
time when this fair was discontinued we have no
authority for stating; but the truth is, that when
the good people of St. James's ceased to patronise
the "Old Showmen," those of Bloomsbury voted
them low, and followed in the wake of their
wealthier and more aristocratic neighbours.
In a previous chapter we have spoken of the
insecurity of these northern districts of the metropolis in the last century, in consequence of the
numerous bands of highwaymen infesting the
locality; and in the London Magazine we read that
as lately as 1773 two prisoners were sentenced to
death at Newgate for robbing a gentleman and his
wife near Tottenham Court turnpike.
The vicinity of Tottenham Court Road, being
near to the Middlesex Hospital, appears to have
enjoyed an unenviable notoriety as a depository
for dead bodies. At all events, Hunter tells us, in
his "History of London," that in 1776 the town
was startled by the discovery of the remains of
more than a hundred corpses in a shed hereabouts,
which were "supposed to have been deposited
there by traders to the surgeons, many of whom,
especially in the Borough, were known to have
made an open profession of this traffic."
On the west side of the road, between Tottenham and Howland Streets, is Tottenham Court
Chapel, or, as it is generally called, "Tabernacle."
It was designed by the Rev. George Whitefield,
the eloquent colleague and fellow-worker of John
Wesley. The immediate cause of its erection
was the opposition which he met with, as minister
of a chapel in Long Acre, from the Vicar of St.
Martin's-in-the-Fields, who had no sympathy with
the new "Evangelical" doctrines. Hindered thus
in his ministry, he obtained from the Fitzroys a
lease of a plot of ground in what was then called,
in maps and surveys, "The Crab and Walnuttree Field," close to a pond known as "The Little
Sea," on the road which ran from St. Giles's Church
to the "Adam and Eve Tavern." In writing to his
patroness, the Countess of Huntingdon, Whitefield
says, "I have taken a piece of ground not far
from the Foundling Hospital whereon to build a
new chapel." When he built it, he desired to
place it within the pale of the Established Church,
and had hoped to have done so all the more easily
on account of his position as chaplain to a peeress
of the realm; but in this he was disappointed.
He sailed, however, as near to the model of the
English Church worship as the law allowed him.
The foundation-stone was laid in May, 1756, Mr.
Whitefield himself preaching on the occasion. It
was a large but plain double-brick building, seventy
feet square, and capable of holding a large congregation; over the door, we are told, were the arms of
Mr. Whitefield. But the preacher was so popular
that the edifice had soon to be enlarged; and three
or four years later an octagonal front was added,
which gave it a singular appearance. Twelve
alms-houses and a chapel-house soon grew up by
its side, all the result of private subscriptions among
the adherents of "Evangelicalism." Indeed, so
celebrated was Mr. Whitefield as an orator that he
numbered among his occasional hearers the Prince
of Wales and several of his brothers and sisters,
Lords Chesterfield, Halifax, and Bolingbroke; also
David Hume, Horace Walpole, and David Garrick.
Ned Shuter, the actor, also, who was acting the
Rambler at the time, came in one day, when Whitefield, turning to him, implored that in the course
of his wanderings he might be led to "ramble"
towards his Saviour. Shuter was struck at the
unexpected attack on himself, and expostulated
with the preacher, but in the end he became a
Methodist. Whitefield died in America, in September, 1770, and his funeral sermon was preached
here by John Wesley. There is in the chapel a
monument to George Whitefield, and another to
his wife, who was buried here. There is another
to Augustus Toplady, author of the well-known
hymn "Rock of ages, cleft for me." John Bacon,
R.A., the sculptor, is buried under the north
gallery. The chapel was satirically called by the
opponents of the new doctrines, Whitefield's "soultrap;" on which the latter merely said, "I pray
that God may make it indeed a soul-trap to many
of his wandering creatures." Whitefield was also
burlesqued by Samuel Foote, on the stage of old
Drury Lane, in The Minor and The Hypocrite.
This, however, provoked him no further than to
observe, with a smile, "I am afraid Satan is angry."
There are few anecdotes told in favour of Foote's
magnanimity; but one deserves to be recorded.
The epilogue to his farce of The Minor contained
a burlesque of the style and manner of the wellknown preacher, under the title of "Dr. Squintem."
During the run of the farce it happened that Whitefield died. The epilogue was withdrawn. On its
being loudly called for by the audience, Foote
came forward, and said that he was incapable of
holding up the dead to ridicule.
Following in the wake of the great preachers of
the previous century—South and Barrow—and in
a style which was afterwards copied by Rowland
Hill at the Surrey Chapel, and by one or two
preachers even in the present day, Mr. Whitefield
increased his popularity by using eccentric terms
and modes of expression in his sermons, and by
reference to commonplace and trivial matters. In
fact, his discourses often sparkled with wit and
fun. Both Whitefield and Wesley contrived, as the
Established Church disclaimed their acts, to disown and to defy its authority in turn, and therefore
they gradually found themselves forced to take up
the position of Nonconformists and Dissenters.
A man of superhuman energy and power, John
Wesley has been able to exercise the widest influence over the English-speaking race. Macaulay
observes of him that "his genius for government
and organisation was not inferior to that of Cardinal
Richelieu," and others have compared him with St.
Ignatius Loyola.
It is recorded in the Gentleman's Magazine that
during a violent thunder-storm which passed over
London, on Sunday, March 15, 1772, a man was
killed by the lightning in this chapel. The electric
fluid penetrated the roof just over the man's head,
and entering a little above his breast, pierced his
heart. He had two children by him at the time,
neither of whom received the least hurt.
It is said that Whitefield wished to have the
ground adjoining consecrated as a burial-ground,
but that the Bishop of London refusing to perform
the ceremony, he obtained several cart-loads of
consecrated earth from a churchyard in the City,
conveyed them hither, and spread them over the
adjacent surface, which he thenceforth regarded as
sacred. How deep the consecration went downwards was a question he did not even attempt to
decide.
It would appear that the ministers of the two
chapels in Tottenham Court Road and Moorfields
often preached alternately in these edifices. At
any rate, the eccentric Matthew Wilks, who was
minister at Moorfields from 1775 to 1829, is stated
to have had the oversight of the two chapels.
On the expiration of Whitefield's lease, in 1828,
the chapel was closed for two years, when it was
purchased by trustees, and greatly altered in its
appearance, the exterior being coated with stucco.
About the year 1860 the fabric was enlarged and
re-fronted with stone.
There were persons living in 1832, as is clear
from a letter published at that date in Hone's
"Year Book," who "remembered when the last
house in London was the public-house in the corner,
by Whitefield's Chapel." The writer remarks that
he himself remembered the destruction of a tree
which once shadowed the skittle-ground and roadside of the same house. It was cut down and
converted into firewood by a man who kept a coalshed hard by. Persons living at the above date
could recollect Rathbone Place ending at Percy
Street, and the mill still in position which gave its
name to Windmill Street, and the neighbourhood
of Charlotte Street being occupied by large open
soil-pits. The writer above referred to tells the
following grim story about this neighbourhood:—"A poor creature, a sailor, I believe, was found
dead near here, and denied burial by the parish on
the ground of a want of legal settlement. The
body was placed in a shell and carried about the
streets by persons who solicited alms for its interment. A considerable sum was collected, but the
body was thrown into one of those pits, the money
being spent in other ways. After a time the corpse
floated, and the atrocity was discovered, but the
perpetrators were not to be found. A friend of
mine," he adds, "saw the fragments of the coffin
floating about on the surface of the pool."
At "King John's Palace," a public-house in this
street, lived an eccentric character named Shooter.
He had been pot-boy at a tavern in Covent Garden,
and became on such friendly terms with the rats in
the cellars of the house, by giving them sops from
his porter—for at that time everybody, if he liked,
might have a bit of toast in his beer—that they
would creep about him, and over his hands and
face, without fear and without injury. He would
carry them about the streets between his shirt and
his waistcoat, to the surprise of every one, and
even make them answer to their names. Later in
life he became a Methodist, through listening to the
preaching of Wesley and Whitefield.
Tottenham Court Road in the present day is
one of the busiest thoroughfares in London, and
can boast of several monster commercial establishments, notably among them being those of Messrs.
Moses and Son, outfitters, at the corner of the
Euston Road; Messrs. Shoolbred and Co., linendrapers; and Messrs. Hewetson and Milner, upholsterers. At No. 216 are the offices of the North
London Consumption Hospital, of which we shall
speak on reaching Hampstead, where the hospital
itself is situated.
This thoroughfare being of comparatively recent
growth, there is but little to say in the way of
anecdote connected with it. Here "Peg" Fryer,
a wonderful old actress, who quitted the stage in
the reign of Charles II., kept a public-house in her
latter days. A farce called the Half-pay Officer,
by Charles Molloy, was brought out at Drury Lane
Theatre in 1720; and to Mrs. Fryer, then eightyfive years of age, was assigned the part of an old
grandmother. In the bills it was mentioned:—"The part of 'Lady Richlove' to be performed by
Peg Fryer, who has not appeared on the stage these
fifty years." The character in the farce was supposed
to be a very old woman, and Peg exerted her
utmost abilities. The farce being ended, she was
brought again upon the stage to dance a jig. She
came tottering in, and seemed much fatigued; but
on a sudden, the music striking up the Irish trot,
she danced and footed it almost as nimbly as any
girl of twenty. She resided in Tottenham Court
Road until her decease, which took place in 1747,
at the reputed age of 117 years.
The "Blue Posts," a tavern still standing at one
corner of Hanway Street and Tottenham Court
Road, says Mr. J. T. Smith, in his "Book for a
Rainy Day," "was once kept by a man of the
name of Sturges, deep in the knowledge of chess,
upon which game he published a little work, as
is acknowledged on his tombstone in St. James's
burial-ground, Hampstead Road."
Charles Dickens, as a boy, when living at Camden
Town, and acting as a drudge at the blacking shop
at Hungerford Stairs, used to frequent the secondclass pastry-cooks along this route, and spend his
coppers on stale buns at half-price.
At the southern extremity of the road, where it
joins Oxford Street, and on the west side, are three
or four isolated houses, the little foot-passage
behind which is called Bozier's Court. They stand
on what was waste land adjoining the old Pound.
The removal of these old houses has been often
threatened, but never carried into effect.

THE FIELD OF THE FORTY FOOTSTEPS. (From an Original Sketch, taken in 1830.)