Come, Fortescue, sincere, experienced friend, Thy briefs, thy deeds, and e'en thy fees suspend; Come, let us leave the Temple's silent walls; My business to my distant lodging calls; Through the long Strand together let us stray, With thee conversing, I forget the way.--Gay.

During the reign of Henry VIII. an active stir had commenced for the reparation of streets and highways in and about the metropolis, and the necessity for such improvement is fully shown by the words of the royal statute which was then enacted for the purpose. In granting permission to lay out a new road in the Weald of Kent, which formed an important thoroughfare to London, we are told that

many other common ways in the said Weald be so deep and so noyous, by wearing and course of water and other occasions, that people cannot have their carriages or passages by horses, upon or by the same, but to their great pains, peril, or jeopardy.

Frequented though it was, and necessary for the comfort of the City, yet this highway, in the and years of Henry VIII., is described as a road

full of pits and sloughs, very perilous and noisome.

and the village of Charing

very noyous and foul, and in many places thereof very jeopardous to all people passing and repassing, as well on horseback as on foot, both in winter and in summer, by night and by day.

Prince of the Church,

In speaking, however, of the disgraceful condition of the high-road between London and , in the days of the Plantagenets, we are in danger, perhaps, of forgetting the fact that at that time the traffic along it consisted mainly of foot passengers, or riders on horseback, carriages being then almost as unknown as hansom cabs or omnibuses. Elizabeth, as we know, rode usually on a pillion, even on state occasions, and years after her, we are told, there were only vehicles on wheels in the whole of London. No wonder, therefore, that many of our old thoroughfares are still narrow in the extreme.

In the present admirably-paved state of the streets of the metropolis, the following statement relative to the Strand, , and , must appear strange:--

In

1353

, the road from London to

Westminster

had become so dangerous for the transit of passengers or carriage of goods, as to demand the interference of Government. A mandate was therefore directed, in the name of the king and council, dated West.- minster,

Nov. 20

, to John de Bedeforde, of London, appointing him the commissioner for the paving of the road in question. This instrument recites, that the highway leading from the gate called

Temple Bar

, London, to the door of

Westminster Abbey

, by the frequent passage of carts, horses, merchandise, and provisions, to the Staple at

Westminster

, ever since its establishment, had become so deep and muddy, and the pavement so much injured and broken, that unless soon repaired, great perils must be incurred by the passage both of men and of carriages. In order to remedy this evil, therefore, it was ordained that the footpave- ment adjoining to the houses on the line of the road should be newly laid, at the expense of the owners of the nearest houses; and that money should be levied by tolls on goods sold at the Staple, to defray the charge of paving the road between the kennels on each side.

In there were hackney coaches in London; but they multiplied so rapidly, that in years afterwards Government took the alarm at their general use, and endeavoured to limit it; upon the plea that these carriages

disturbed the ears of king, queen, and nobles, jostled horse and foot passengers, tore up the streets and pavements, and increased the price of hay and horse

provender.

that no hackney or hired coaches be used or suffered in London,

Westminster

, or the suburbs thereof, except they be to travel at least

three

miles out of the same; and also, that no person shall go in a coach in the said streets, except the owner of the coach shall constantly keep up

four

able horses for our (the king's) service when required.

Scarcely had this innovation been commenced in London, when Taylor, the

Water Poet,

They have undone my poor trade!

This infernal swarm of trade spillers have so overrun the land, that we can get no living on the water; for I dare truly affirm, that every day in any term, especially if the court be at,

Whitehall

, they do rob us of our livings, and carry

five hundred and sixty

fares daily from us.

I pray you look into the streets, and the chambers or lodgings in

Fleet Street

or the Strand, how they are pestered with them (coaches), especially after a mask or a play at the court, where even the very earth quakes and trembles, the casements shatter, tatter, and clatter, and such a confused noise is made, so that a man can neither sleep, speak, hear, write, nor eat his dinner or supper quiet for them.

The scene presented by the thoroughfare of the Strand, through its entire length, if we may believe such an eyewitness as John Evelyn, was very gay and brilliant. He writes in his Diary,

May 29, 1660

. This day his majestie, Charles II., came to London, after a sad and long exile and calamitous suffering both of the king and church, being

seventeen

years. This was also his birthday, and with a triumph above

20,000

horse and foot, brandishing their swords and shouting with inexpressible joy; the ways strew'd with flowers, the bells ringing, the streets hung with tapestry, fountains running with wine; the mayor, aldermen, and all the companies in their liveries, chains of gold, and banners; lords and nobles clad in cloth of silver, gold, and velvet; the windowes and balconies well set with ladies; trumpets, music, and myriads of people flocking even so far as from Rochester, so as they were

seven

hours in passing the City, even from

two

till

ten

at night. I stood in the Strand and beheld it, and bless'd God. And all this war done without

one

drop of bloodshed, and by that very army which rebelled against him; but it was the Lord's doings, for such a restoration was never mentioned in any history, ancient or modern, since the return of the Jews from the Babylonish captivity; nor so joyful a day and so bright ever seen in this nation, this happening when to expect or effect it was past all human policy.

To pass on to a somewhat later date, we are told by Malcolm that when, in , the number of hackney carriages in London was limited by Act of Parliament to , the inhabitants of the Strand and petitioned against any increase in their numbers, on the ground that

they prevented the quality from getting to their shops!

During the time of Queen Elizabeth, considerable improvement had been effected by the filling up of the gaps or blanks left between the dwellings that had already been built along the Strand; and by the end of her long reign, both sides of this line of route had been nearly covered with the mansions of the nobility, so that may be said at that time to have been joined on to London. The still rural character, however, of the districts abutting on the north side, at the time when the Strand was only an unpaved road, may be gathered from the existence to our own day of such names as the Convent (Covent) Garden, , St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, and , most of which were open country at the date of the earliest existing map of the metropolis.

The name of the Strand is clearly of Saxon andnot of Norman origin; and, if we may trust a writer in the , it is mentioned by name in the Saxon Chronicle. And as a proof of the statement it is recorded that upon the Strand Earl Godwin and his son Harold drew up their land forces in the insurrection which they headed against Edward the Confessor, in A.D. .

We find this thoroughfare sometimes spoken of as

the

High Street

of

Westminster

, commonly called the Strand,

Archreologia.

The following graphic sketch, which we take from , carries us back to the Strand of years ago:--

Beyond the Bars is the river-side road, called Strand Street. It was sorely in need of paving until lately, when a tax for its repair was levied on all goods carried along it to the Staple at

Westminster

. Here, many lords, spiritual and temporal, have goodly Inns, of which you can see but

two

or

three

: the Bishop of Exeter's close on the left; the Bishop of Bath's beyond it; and the Bishop of Chester's, with the old stone cross before it. At that cross the Judges have sometimes sat to try pleas. The palace which you can just see to the left is the Savoy, so called from Peter, Count of Savoy, who built it in the reign of our Henry III., whose Queen was the Count's niece. Now the Duke of Lancaster is the owner thereof, and John, the captive King of France, lodged there not long since. The bridge over the lane in the centre of the road is called Strand Bridge. On the right of St. Clement Danes Church you see the wells of St. Clement and Holy Well; and, beyond them, the vineyard and convent garden of the Abbey of

Westminster

, skirted by the woods of

Long Acre

.

Milford Lane In 1820.

The church among the fields in the distance is

St. Martin's

.

Between the Strand and the river-side there are or great and noble families whose names and histories are interwoven with the vicinity. Nearest to , the Devereuxes, Earls of Essex; next the Howards, of the ducal family of Norfolk; then the Protector Somerset, the Cecils, Earls of Salisbury and Exeter, and Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, to say nothing of the proud line of Percy, Dukes of Northumberland, who up to have kept up their town residence at . About and all of these in succession we shall have plenty to say in the next few pages.

Mr. A. Wood, in his

Ecclesiastical Antiquities of London,

the Abbot of

Westminster

had a garden on the banks of the Thames, where

Westminster

and London join, near St. Clement Danes. It was called the Frere Pye Garden, and stood opposite to the palaces of the Bishops of Durham and Carlisle.

The town house of the Duke of Beaufort in the reign of Charles II. stood here, on the site of what now are known as ; but the family removed thence to Beaufort House at in . Then there was Essex House, and the Inn of the Bishops of Norwich (afterwards York House), which as far back as the reign of Edward III. spread out their embattled fronts towards the Strand, while their extensive gardens, terraces, and water-stairs sloped down to the river. Spelman says that in the troublous times of the Tudors most of the houses of the prelates in the Strand were taken from them by courtiers

without any recompense.

Among the characteristic features of the Strand at this period were the bridges that spanned the various water-courses flowing from the meadows and open fields on the north, and crossing this thoroughfare in their way to the Thames. or of these bridges were kept in remembrance down to comparatively recent times in the names of Ivy and Strand , of the latter of which-now simply Strand Lanewe shall have to speak presently, in connection with the old Roman bath which is situated there. Then there was the stone cross, of which old Stow speaks as being situated in front of the spot now occupied by , and which in its turn gave place to the famous Maypole, thus alluded to in the

Dunciad,

Amidst the area wide they took their stand,

Where the tall Maypole once o'erlook'd the Strand;

But now, as Anne and Piety ordain,

A church collects the saints of Drury Lane.

Stow states that the Liberty of the Duchy of Lancaster extended from to the east side of , near what is now the , and from the stocks just outside to

a stone cross, now headless,

The foot-pavement of this quarter of the town, as well as of other parts of , would seem to have been in a deplorable state as recently as the year , when a new paving Act was passed. Until that time, it appears, every inhabitant did before his own house just what was right in his own eyes, without rule or plan. The consequence was that some parts of the footway were paved admirably, some indifferently, and some were left unpaved-mere pools of mud and water-according to the wealth or caprice of each resident. A proof of the general filth of this part of the Strand may be found in the of the time, where we read, of the new measure of reform,

All sorts of dirt and ashes, oyster-shells, the offals of fish, poultry, and other kinds of meat, will now no longer be suffered to be thrown loose into the streets, but must be kept until the dustman comes round; nor will the annoyances erected by coachmakers be permitted; and when a house is pulled down the rubbish must be carried to the proper place, and not left on the footway.

In the description of the Strand given by him in , Pennant complains of the street as being in some places too narrow for the incredible number of persons and carriages passing through it.

The Strand has witnessed in its day some strange and curious sights. For instance, we read that Queen Elizabeth, when she rode into the City, sat on a pillion behind her Lord Chancellor, wagons and the newly-invented carriages being in disfavour with her Majesty. Among the numerous pageants which the thoroughfare of the Strand has witnessed may be mentioned the procession of Queen Elizabeth in state to , to return thanks for the victories over the Spanish Armada. Queen Anne passed this way in state to on several occasions, to commemorate victories over France and Spain. In there was a state visit to the City to celebrate the victory of Blenheim; and in like manner have been commemorated the victories of Ramillies and other important triumphs. Then there was the religious ceremonial when George III. and his consort went in state to to offer a nation's thanks for its king's recovery; the solemn conveyance of captured banners and the great naval procession to , headed by the King, in ; the funeral procession of Lord Nelson in , and that of the Duke of Wellington in ; and the visits of Queen Victoria, when she went in state to dine at , and to open the new , and, in , to return public thanks for the restoration of the health of the Prince of Wales.

But probably none of these pageants ever presented a scene so striking as when the gates of were opened at the approach of the Charles on his restoration, and the King, brought back to his own again, rode gallantly through the City to . The houses of the Strand were adorned with the richest tapestry, and window, balcony, and scaffold were crowded with

As we have already stated, the appearance of at the present time () is sufficient to impress any passenger along the Strand, in his way to the City, with its utterly hopeless prospect. Temple Bar-almost the last relic of the geographical sovereignty of Londonlooks now as if it really needed friends, and its aspect is forlorn and hopeless in the extreme, and amply sufficient to justify our reprinting the following lines, written on the report of removing in :--

The Metropolitan Prophecy. If that gate is pulled down, 'twixt the Court and the City, You'll blend in one mass prudent, worthless, and witty; If you league cit and lordling, as brother and brother, You'll break Order's chain, and they'll war with each other. Like the great wall of China, it keeps out the Tartars From making irruptions where industry barters. Like Samson's wild foxes they'll fire your houses, And madden your spinsters, and cozen your spouses; They'll destroy in one sweep both the mart and the forum, Which your fathers held dear and their fathers before 'em.

But it is time to pass from these general remarks to a more detailed account of the thoroughfare of which we treat. [extra_illustrations.3.63.3] 

[extra_illustrations.3.63.1] Bill head- John Burgess and son- 107 Strand

[extra_illustrations.3.63.2] Elmer Judkins and E.S. Judkins

[extra_illustrations.3.63.3] Hotel Cecil- Strand