Lincoln’s Inn Hall; “Jarndyce and Jarndyce”—Old Square; Offices of Kenge and Carboy; Chambers of Sergeant Snubbin—Bishop’s Court; Miss Flite’s Lodging at Krook’s Rag and Bottle Warehouse; Nemo; Tony Weevle—The Old Ship Tavern; “The Sol’s Arms”—Coavinses’ Castle—Mr. Snagsby’s Residence, Took’s Court, Cursitor Street—Bell Yard; Lodgings of Neckett and Gridley—Tellson’s Bank, Fleet Street—The Temple; Fountain Court (Ruth Pinch and John Westlock); Garden Court (Pip’s Chambers); Pump Court (Chambers of the elder Martin Chuzzlewit); Paper Buildings (Sir John Chester and Mr. Stryver, K.C.)—Offices of Messrs. Lightwood and Wrayburn—Bradley Headstone’s Look-out—Clifford’s Inn; John Rokesmith and Mr. Boffin—St. Dunstan’s Pump and Maypole Hugh—St. Dunstan’s Church; “The Chimes”—Bradbury and Evans, Bouverie Street—Office of the Daily News—Hanging Sword Alley; Mr. Cruncher’s Rooms,–“Ye old Cheshire Cheese”—Farringdon, formerly Fleet, Market—Fleet Prison; Mr. Pickwick and Sam Weller’s Imprisonment—Belle Sauvage Yard—London Coffee House; Arthur Clennam’s arrival—St. Paul’s Churchyard—Dean’s Court—Doctors’ Commons; Messrs. Spenlow and Jorkins—“Bell Tavern”—Wood Street; Coach Office at which Pip first arrived—The London Stereoscopic Company; “Grip,” the Raven—Bow Church—The Guildhall; Bardell v. Pickwick—Grocers’ Hall Court—The Mansion House; References in “Barnaby Rudge,” “Christmas Carol,” and “Martin Chuzzlewit”—“Dombey and Son.”

The Rambler now crosses Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and, on its eastern side, enters the precincts of Lincoln’s Inn, through an arched gateway, from Serle Street. Passing the imposing building of the Dining-Hall and Library on the left, with New Square on the right, we shortly arrive at old Lincoln’s Inn Hall, the Lord High Chancellor’s Court, with its central turret and lantern, bearing the initials of the reigning Treasurer, 1818, where Chancery suits were tried thirty years since. Here that cause cÉlÈbre, Jarndyce and Jarndyce, dragged “its slow length along” through the weary years, involving

“Bills, cross-bills, answers, rejoinders, injunctions, affidavits, issues, references to masters, masters’ reports—mountains of costly nonsense.”

Here, on a seat at the side of the hall, stood little Miss Flite, in her squeezed bonnet, carrying “her documents,” and

“Always expecting some incomprehensible judgment in her favour.”—See “Bleak House,” chapter 1.

The business of Chancery procedure is now transferred to the New Law Courts. Hard by, on the north, passing through the cloisters of the Chapel of Lincoln’s Inn, we come into the enclosure of Old Square, Lincoln’s Inn, where the Offices of Messrs. Kenge and Carboy were situated. Esther Summerson says:—

“We passed into sudden quietude, under an old gateway, and drove on through a silent square, until we came to an odd nook in a corner, where there was an entrance up a steep broad flight of stairs, like an entrance to a church.”

The houses in this square have been all rebuilt; but Kenge and Co.’s offices used to flourish in the north-west corner, where still the rising of the ground necessitates an exterior flight of steps. The chambers of Sergeant Snubbin, counsel for the defence in “Bardell v. Pickwick,” were also located in this square, probably on the opposite side.

Returning to Lincoln’s Inn, we may follow Esther Summerson’s directions, and visit the apartments of Miss Flite—

“Slipping us out of a little side gate, the old lady stopped most unexpectedly in a narrow back street, part of some courts and lanes immediately outside the wall of the inn, and said, ‘This is my lodging. Pray walk up!’”

Thus, passing at the back of the Inn, and taking the next turning on the left, we arrive at Bishop’s Court, near at hand, a narrow, dark, and old passage leading to Chancery Lane. On the left hand, nearest the Inn, was Krook’s Rag and Bottle Warehouse, probably No. 3. But during recent years, all the old houses of the court have been substituted by modern buildings, offices, and shops; so that the location only remains of the “Lord Chancellor,” and his place of business, yclept by the neighbours the “Court of Chancery.” The old shop, at one time, possessed the private door and stairway leading to Miss Flite’s lodging.

“She lived at the top of the house, in a pretty large room, from which she had a glimpse of the roof of Lincoln’s Inn Hall.”

Here, too, Captain Hawdon, otherwise Nemo, the law-writer, lived and died in a bare room on the second floor. A notice may have been observed in the old shop window, “Engrossing and Copying.” It will be remembered that this room was afterwards occupied by Mr. Tony Weevle, during whose tenancy it was decorated with a choice collection of magnificent portraits, being—

“Copper-plate impressions from that truly national work, the Divinities of Albion, or Galaxy Gallery of British Beauty; representing ladies of title and fashion, in every variety of smirk, that art, combined with capital, is capable of producing.”

Returning to the top of the court, and passing a short distance along Star Yard, we reach, at the corner of Chichester Rents, a modern warehouse (No. 7), recently erected on the site of “The Old Ship Tavern,” now non est, named in the pages of “Bleak House” The Sol’s Arms, it being the house at which the Inquest was held, following the death of Nemo, as described in chapter 11; on which occasion the proffered evidence of Poor Jo was virtuously rejected by the presiding coroner.

“Can’t exactly say; won’t do, you know. We can’t take that in a Court of Justice, gentlemen. It’s terrible depravity. Put the boy aside.”

The old tavern has given place to the exigencies of modern commerce (1897). The ghost of Little Swills may still linger in the neighbourhood, but the musical evenings of the past are silent, being now superseded by the prosaics of ordinary business.

The real Sol’s Arms still exists, No. 65 Hampstead Road, N.W., at the corner of Charles Street, once known as Sol’s Row. Its name was derived from the “Sol’s Society,” whose meetings, held therein, were of a Masonic character. It has been suggested that Dickens transferred the style and name of this house to the neighbourhood of Chancery Lane, as above.

Coming now into Chancery Lane, we may observe, nearly opposite the old gateway of Lincoln’s Inn, Cursitor Street, a thoroughfare leading eastward from the Lane. It will be noticed that the houses in this street are comparatively of recent erection, and we may now look in vain for Coavinses’ Castle, which has been swept away by the besom of modern destruction and improvement. This old sponging-house flourished (in the days of Harold Skimpole) on the left of the street, on the site now occupied by Lincoln’s Inn Chambers, No. 1.

At a short distance in Cursitor Street (No. 9) we come to a turning on the left to Took’s Court, referred to in “Bleak House” as Cook’s Court, in which was Mr. Snagsby’s Residence and Law Stationer’s Shop. The court is not a long one, and consists mainly of offices connected with the legal profession. The location of Mr. Snagsby’s shop was at the central corner on the left, the site being now occupied by modern offices and stores. “The little drawing-room upstairs” is described as commanding

“A view of Cook’s Court at one end (not to mention a squint into Cursitor Street) and of Coavins’s, the Sheriff’s Officer’s, backyard on the other.”

The memorable, but now non-existent room, as prepared for the reception of the Rev. Mr. Chadband (Chaplain-in-Ordinary to Mrs. Snagsby), who was “endowed with the gift of holding forth for four hours at a stretch.” On that occasion, it will be remembered that Poor Jo—brought to Cook’s Court by a police constable—was eloquently addressed by the reverend gentleman, but was not greatly edified by his admonitions.

“At this threatening stage of the discourse, Jo, who seems to have been gradually going out of his mind, smears his right arm over his face, and gives a terrible yawn. Mrs. Snagsby indignantly expresses her belief that he is a limb of the arch-fiend.”

Returning by Chancery Lane, on the left hand, we may note Bream’s Buildings, as being the northern boundary of the former site of Symond’s Inn, which hence extended onward to No. 22.

“A little, pale, wall-eyed, woebegone inn, like a large dust-bin of two compartments and a sifter. It looks as if Symond were a sparing man in his day, and constructed his inn of old building materials, which took kindly to the dry rot, and to dirt, and all things decaying and dismal, and perpetuated Symond’s memory with congenial shabbiness.”

This inn has ceased to exist for many years past, its position being now occupied by a large printer’s establishment and other offices. Readers of “Bleak House” will remember that the professional chambers of Mr. Vholes were here situated, and that Richard Carstone and his young wife Ada resided in the next house, in order that Richard might have his legal adviser close at hand. Here occurred the early death of poor Richard; and we all cherish the remembrance of dear Ada’s wifely devotion, to which Esther Summerson thus refers:—

“The days when I frequented that miserable corner which my dear girl brightened can never fade in my remembrance. I never see it, and I never wish to see it now; I have been there only once since; but in my memory there is a mournful glory shining on the place, which will shine for ever.”

Leaving Chancery Lane, and turning (right) by Carey Street, we reach Bell Yard, leading to Fleet Street. This place has been mentioned by Dickens as containing a “chandler’s shop, left-hand side,” where lodged Gridley, “the man from Shropshire,” and Neckett, the faithful servitor of Coavinses. The name—Bell Yard—forms the heading of chapter 15, “Bleak House,” which affords information of the Neckett family—Charlie, Tom, and the limp-bonneted baby. For full details, reference should be made to this very touching and beautifully-written chapter as above. Great alterations have been made, and are still being made, in this narrow lane, since the erection of the New Law Courts in the immediate vicinity; but some of the older houses still remain on the left-hand side of the way. Of these, No. 9 is a small, tall, squeezed-looking house, about half-way down the alley, and may be safely assigned (thirty years since) to the tenancy of the good-natured Mrs. Blinder.

Passing through Bell Yard, we reach Fleet Street, at the point where once Temple Bar gave ancient entrance to the City. Its position is marked by a bronze griffin, surmounting a memorial pedestal beneath. Exactly on the opposite side of the street is the handsome modern erection of Child’s Bank. This new building dates from 1878, when the structure of old Temple Bar was removed. It replaces one of the very old-fashioned houses of London, in which for many years Messrs. Child carried on their important banking business. This house is spoken of by Dickens, in his “Tale of Two Cities,” as Tellson’s Bank, on the outside of which the mysterious Mr. Cruncher was usually in attendance as “odd-job man, and occasional porter and messenger.”

“Tellson’s Bank, by Temple Bar, was an old-fashioned place even in the year 1780. It was very small, very dark, very ugly, very incommodious. Any one of the partners would have disinherited his son on the question of rebuilding Tellson’s. Thus it had come to pass that Tellson’s was the triumphant perfection of inconvenience. After bursting open a door of idiotic obstinacy with a weak rattle in its throat, you fell into Tellson’s, down two steps, and came to your senses in a miserable little shop, with two little counters; where the oldest of men made your cheque shake as if the wind rustled it, while they examined the signature by the dingiest of windows, which were always under a shower-bath of mud from Fleet Street, and which were made the dingier by their own iron bars proper and the shadow of Temple Bar.”

Fountain Court, Temple

Passing Newton’s (optician) we arrive at the outer Gate of the Temple, by which we enter Middle Temple Lane, following which a short distance and turning to the right, by Middle Temple Hall, we reach Fountain Court. The fountain standing here, conspicuously in a central position, is associated with the history of Ruth Pinch. Here it was that Tom and his sister made appointments for meeting—

“Because, of course, when she had to wait a minute or two, it would have been very awkward for her to have had to wait in any but a quiet spot; and that was as quiet a spot, everything considered, as they could choose.”

On further reference to the pages of “Martin Chuzzlewit,” we may recall the auspicious occasion when Ruth was under the special escort of John Westlock—

“Brilliantly the Temple fountain sparkled in the sun, and merrily the idle drops of water danced and danced; and, peeping out in sport among the trees, plunged lightly down to hide themselves, as little Ruth and her companion came towards it.”

See chapter 53. In Garden Court beyond, Mr. Pip and his friend, Herbert Pocket, had residence. In “Great Expectations,” he says—

“Our Chambers were in Garden Court, down by the river. We lived at the top of the last house.”

Here Pip’s patron and benefactor, the convict Magwitch, alias Provis, disclosed himself one memorable night, much to his “dear boy’s” discomfiture; and it will be remembered that temporary accommodation was found for him at

“A lodging-house in Essex Street, the back of which looked into the Temple, and was almost within hail of ‘Pip’s’ windows.”

The houses in this court have been rebuilt, and we may look in vain for the actual chambers specified. Returning to Middle Temple Lane, the visitor may walk directly across it to Elm Court, and proceed through the same and a narrow passage beyond, turning to the left, through The Cloisters, which (left again) give into the central location of Pump Court, an oblong old-fashioned court of offices, four storeys high. Here, in all probability, were situated The Chambers where Tom Pinch was mysteriously installed as librarian to an unknown employer, by the eccentric Mr. Fips.

“He led the way through sundry lanes and courts, into one more quiet and gloomy than the rest; and, singling out a certain house, ascended a common staircase . . . stopping before a door upon an upper storey. . . . There were two rooms on that floor; and in the first, or outer one, a narrow staircase leading to two more above.”

Here, also, old Martin Chuzzlewit revealed himself to the astonished Tom in his true character, and surprised the virtuous Mr. Pecksniff by a “warm reception,” when “the tables were turned completely upside down.”—See “Chuzzlewit,” chapters 39 and 52.

Proceeding past Lamb Buildings, on the east side of the Cloisters, and by a passage six steps downwards, leading beneath the Inner Temple Dining-Hall, we may note across the road (right) a short range of substantial houses, known as Paper Buildings, facing King’s Bench Walk, where it will be remembered that Sir John Chester had his residential chambers, no doubt selecting a central position—say, at No. 3. Here at various times Mr. Edward Chester, Hugh, Sim Tappertit, and Gabriel Varden had audience with Sir John; for full particulars of which “overhaul the wollume”—“Barnaby Rudge.”

In this neighbourhood also were situated the chambers of Mr. Stryver, K.C., where Sydney Carton served as “jackal” to that “fellow of delicacy;” as we read in “The Tale of Two Cities,” how Sydney

“Having revived himself by twice pacing the pavements of King’s Bench Walk and Paper Buildings, turned into the Stryver Chambers.”

Returning to Fleet Street by Lamb Buildings, and passing in front of the Old Temple Church, we come to Goldsmith’s Buildings (right), which overlook the old burial-ground and the tomb of the doctor. This surely is the “dismal churchyard” referred to in “Our Mutual Friend” as being closely contiguous to the offices of Messrs. Lightwood and Wrayburn.

“Whosoever . . . had looked up at the dismal windows commanding that churchyard, until at the most dismal window of them all, he saw a dismal boy, would in him have beheld . . . the clerk of Mr. Mortimer Lightwood.”

N.B.—Note the last window on the left (second floor), nearest the west wing, lately rebuilt.

Coming again into Fleet Street, by the arched gateway of Inner Temple Lane, the wayfarer may recall the circumstance of Bradley Headstone’s nightly watchings opposite this point for the outgoings of Mr. Eugene Wrayburn, and the many fruitless journeys which were hence commenced, as Eugene enjoyed “the pleasures of the chase” at the expense of his unfortunate rival.

Nearly facing us, on the north side of Fleet Street, is Clifford’s Inn Passage, into whose retirement Mr. Rokesmith, the hero of “Our Mutual Friend,” withdrew from the noise of Fleet Street, with Mr. Boffin, when offering that gentleman his services as secretary.

Close at hand stands St. Dunstan’s Church, near to which the pump was, but is not, from whose refreshing streams “Hugh” (from the Maypole, Chigwell) sobered himself by a drenching on one occasion previous to visiting Sir John Chester at Paper Buildings. (Vide “Barnaby Rudge,” chapter 40.) The old pump has been replaced by a drinking-fountain.

Toby Veck surely must have known that pump; for though there is no precise location given by Dickens in “The Chimes” for the church near to which Toby waited for jobs, there is an etching by Stanfield in the original edition of that book (page 88), which is unmistakably the counterfeit presentment of St. Dunstan’s Tower.

Continuing the route, we pass Bouverie Street (Bradbury and Evans—now Bradbury, Agnew, and Co.—in this street were the publishers of several of the works of Dickens, “The Chimes” included) on the right, next arriving at Whitefriars’ Street on the same side.

At the corner of the street, No. 67, is the public Office of “The Daily News.” This influential newspaper was started January 21, 1846, under the supervision of Charles Dickens, and in the earlier numbers of the journal were published instalments of his “Pictures from Italy.” Dickens shortly relinquished the editorship, being succeeded by his friends Jerrold and Forster. The fact is, Charles never greatly cared for the study of general or party politics; but he always identified himself with “the People—spelt with a large P, who are governed,” rather than “the people—spelt with a small p, who govern.”

A short distance down Whitefriars’ Street is a passage (left) from which, at a right angle riverwards, we may look into Hanging Sword Alley, where Mr. Jeremiah Cruncher, messenger at Tellson’s, had his two apartments. These “were very decently kept” by his wife, whose “flopping” proclivities gave so much umbrage to Jerry.

On the opposite side of Fleet Street—No. 146—just beyond, we turn (left) into Wine Office Court, and, on the right, we arrive at “Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese.” In “The Tale of Two Cities,” Book 2, chapter 4, we read that Charles Darnay, being acquitted of the charge of high treason, on his trial at the Old Bailey, was persuaded by the young lawyer, Sydney Carton, to dine in his company thereafter:—

“Drawing his arm through his own, he took him down Ludgate Hill to Fleet Street, and so up a covered way into a tavern.”

This, of course, was the tavern intended; it having been a noted resort with literary and legal men for more than a century past. Here Doctor Johnson and Oliver Goldsmith frequently dined together in days gone by, gravely discoursing over their punch afterwards; and, in more recent years, Thackeray, Dickens, Jerrold, Sala, and others have been reckoned among the customary guests of the establishment. Mr. George Augustus Sala, in a pleasant description of the place, writes as follows:—

“Let it be noted in candour that Law finds its way to the ‘Cheese’ as well as Literature; but the Law is, as a rule, of the non-combatant, and, consequently, harmless order. Literary men who have been called to the Bar, but do not practise; briefless young barristers, who do not object to mingling with newspaper men; with a sprinkling of retired solicitors (amazing dogs these for old port wine; the landlord has some of the same bin which served as Hippocrene to Judge Blackstone when he wrote his ‘Commentaries’)—these make up the legal element of the ‘Cheese.’”

The journey being resumed through Fleet Street, the visitor attains Ludgate Circus, from which Farringdon Street leads northward on the left. A short detour along this thoroughfare, facing the handsome bridge of the Holborn Viaduct, will afford a sight of Farringdon Market on the left side. Its position will recall the description given in “Barnaby Rudge,” in whose days it was known as Fleet Market,

“At that time a long irregular row of wooden sheds and penthouses occupying the centre of what is now called Farringdon Street. . . . It was indispensable to most public conveniences in those days that they should be public nuisances likewise, and Fleet Market maintained the principle to admiration.”

Here the rioters assembled—as narrated in the book before mentioned—and passed a merry night in the midst of congenial surroundings. Retracing our steps, we may note, on the east side of Farringdon Street, the site of the old Fleet Prison, on a part of which now stands the Congregational Memorial Hall. The prison—fifty years since—stretched eastward in the rear as far as the present premises of Messrs. Cassell and Co., Belle Sauvage Yard. Its last remaining walls were removed in 1872, when the foundation-stone of the “Memorial Hall” aforesaid was laid. Here was imprisoned our amiable friend Mr. Pickwick, attended by his faithful Sam, until the time when the costs of Messrs. Dodson and Fogg in re Bardell versus Pickwick were by him fully paid and satisfied.

Proceeding up Ludgate Hill, we may soon note the Belle Sauvage Yard (turning by No. 68, on the left). The old inn, with its central metropolitan coach-yard, sixty years since occupied this site, where now the extensive printing and publishing offices of Cassell and Co. hold benignant sway. The place is referred to in an anecdote of Sam Weller’s anent the preparation of his father’s marriage licence, as arranged at Doctors’ Commons, the place being evidently regarded by that respected coachman as his parochial headquarters in London—

“‘What is your name, sir?’ says the lawyer. ‘Tony Weller,’ says my father. ‘Parish?’ says the lawyer. ‘Belle Savage,’ says my father; for he stopped there when he drove up, and he know’d nothing about parishes, he didn’t.”

The plan of the inn-yard is considerably changed from its olden style. In Mr. Weller’s time it comprised two courts, the outer one being approached from Ludgate Hill by the present entrance, and the Belle Sauvage Inn forming a second quadrangle, with an archway about half-way up from the main entrance. In this interior court was the coach-yard, surrounded by covered wooden galleries, in accordance with the fashion of the times.

Passing onwards on the same side, past Old Bailey, we arrive at the site of the London Coffee Tavern, No. 46 Ludgate Hill, now occupied by the corner shop of Messrs. Hope Brothers, the well-known outfitters. The old house was pulled down in 1872. Here Mr. Arthur Clennam rested awhile on his arrival “from Marseilles by way of Dover, and by Dover coach, ‘the Blue-Eyed Maid,’” one dismal Sunday evening, as narrated in chapter 3 of “Little Dorrit.” We now soon come to St. Paul’s Churchyard, facing the dial by which Ralph Nickleby corrected his watch on his way to the London Tavern, no doubt “stepping aside” into No. 1—Dakin’s—“doorway” to do it; and we may probably be disposed to endorse John Browdie’s verdict with reference to St. Paul’s Cathedral itself. “See there, lass, there be Paul’s Church. Ecod, he be a soizable one, he be.” This locality is also mentioned in “Barnaby Rudge” as being in the line of road taken by Lord George Gordon when entering London with his friends en route for his residence in Welbeck Street. On the right, within a short distance, we come to Dean’s Court, formerly Doctors’ Commons. This place is referred to by Sam Weller as being in

“St. Paul’s Churchyard—low archway on the carriage side, bookseller’s at one corner, hot-el on the other, and two porters in the middle, as touts for licences.”

He further relates to Mr. Pickwick the circumstance of his father’s having been here persuaded to take a marriage licence, directing the lady’s name to be filled in on speculation.

We hear more of Doctors’ Commons in the chronicles of “David Copperfield.”

The Offices of Spenlow and Jorkins were situated in this locality; but the site is now occupied by the Post Office Savings’ Bank in Knightrider Street. Passing through the Archway and by the Deanery of St. Paul’s (right), we cross Carter Lane, and proceed by a narrow court, Bell Yard, to the street above mentioned. At the corner of Carter Lane and Bell Yard is the “Bell Tavern,” which it may be interesting to note, as a house where Mr. Dickens frequently rested, making his notes in preparation for David’s “choice of a profession.” For full particulars the Rambler is referred to chapter 23 of David’s autobiography.

It may also be remembered that the worthy Mr. Boffin (see “Our Mutual Friend”), when instructing his attorney, seemed to be somewhat mixed in his ideas relative to this institution. In conversation with Mr. Lightwood, he once referred to the same as a legal personality—“Doctor Scommons!”

This locality has, of late years, altogether changed both its name and aspect. The old archway has disappeared. As previously stated, it is now known as Dean’s Court. In connection with its old associations, there exists The Bishop of London’s Registry and Marriage Licence Office, at the east corner of the court; and there are some Proctors’ offices doing business, as in the days of Copperfield, in the neighbourhood.

On the east side of the Cathedral, the visitor turns into Cheapside, soon arriving, on the left-hand side of the way (No. 122), at Wood Street. Associated with “Great Expectations,” as containing “Cross Keys Inn” (“The Castle,” No. 25), at which house Mr. Pip arrived when first visiting London, in accordance with instructions received per Mr. Jaggers.

Crossing Cheapside, and onwards by the south side, we reach the well-known establishment of the London Stereoscopic Company, No. 54. It may be interesting to know that this firm possesses the stuffed original of “Grip,” the Raven, the fortunate bird that received a double passport to fame, Dickens having narrated the particulars of its decease, and Maclise having sketched its apotheosis. This relic, so intimately associated with the tale of “Barnaby Rudge,” was purchased at the public sale of Mr. Dickens’s effects for £110, and its photographic portrait may be now obtained at this address.

A few steps farther on the same side stands the old Church of St. Mary-le-Bow, whose bells recalled Dick Whittington to fame and fortune. These same bells are mentioned in the history of “Dombey and Son,” 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.”