More defective still is the disposition of the façade, which is intended to express a central hall with two wings, while beyond is a sort of register house and offices with a clock tower. Now these offices, having inferior functions, should surely have been marked off distinctly, and proclaim that they were mere “dependences.” But it will be seen that they are in the same style and have the same importance, nay, a portion is a replica of one of the “wings” of the Hall, which makes the whole outline indistinct.
The great hall has merits, and there is a certain calm elegance about it, though it suggests something ecclesiastical rather than legal. It is said that a flight of stairs leading to the arcades above had almost been forgotten, and was supplied by some afterthought. The arrangements for access to the different courts and waiting rooms are of the most extraordinary kind, through dark passages, up winding breakneck stairs and bewildering crannies. The public when they find themselves in the hall and naturally seek access to the courts, are sent out of the building, and have to struggle up a winding stair in the two towers outside. No idea can be given of the dark galleries above, of the sense of oppression, the want of air and light which is found in them. The Courts are gloomy caverns, where artificial light has nearly always to be used. Every arrangement is more or less inconvenient, and there are incessant complaints. The truth is, the whole should be courageously remodelled. Stone galleries should run round the great hall, gained by a broad monumental double flight of stairs; these galleries should lead directly to the several courts. All the minute subdivisions of passages, waiting rooms for jurors, waiting rooms for witnesses, which only bewilder, should be swept away. A new set of courts should be erected on the vacant piece. The whole fault arises from squeezing too much into a small area. Some such heroic remedy will assuredly be carried out sooner rather than later.
Close to the Law Courts, and on the spot where Temple Bar stood, has been placed the notorious “Griffin,” which excited a storm of ridicule when it was set up. It will hardly be credited that this grotesque thing, which consists of a sort of pedestal, little more pretentious than a drinking fountain, with its monster on the top, and two small effigies at the side, cost some £10,000! The late Mr. Street offered to design a new archway which would harmonize with his building and be suitable to the traffic, but this was declined.
It seems almost to be the destiny of London monuments to be pulled down with indignity, and perhaps sold to some one in the country to ornament their mansions. The stones of Temple Bar, after lying in a yard for some ten years, were bought by Sir H. Meux, and transported to his place, “Theobalds,” near to Waltham Cross, where it has been re-erected as a gateway to the avenue. The stones were numbered, but the rains washed off all the paint, so the architect had a difficult puzzle to fit them together. It is said to have a very imposing and satisfactory effect. But a place might have been found for it in town. The old railings in front of St. Paul’s were sold to some one in America. Mr. Sala, who has much curious lore of this kind, discovered that the stones of old London Bridge were carried off to build a house in Kent, and that the fittings of the Star Chamber now decorate a dining-room in Sir Edward Cust’s house; while the grand staircase of Northumberland House does duty in a mansion at South Kensington. Mr. Sala knows of a house not far from Leighton Buzzard, where the chimney-piece of the Rubens-House at Antwerp is fixed; and Mr. Barnum informed him that he “was in treaty” for the old timber of the Traitor’s Gate at the Tower. Perhaps some disposition of this kind might, after all, be the best fate for the old stones of the Burlington colonnade, now lying derelict at Battersea.
Returning to the Law Courts, it may not be remembered what a story of embarrassment and trouble and heated controversy is associated with the building. It began with the competition of designs, which went on for years. A plan was accepted, then set aside. When we find fault with the general failure of the interior arrangements, it should, in fairness, be borne in mind that the architect was cruelly hampered, checked and interfered with. At the time the hard, unsympathetic Ayrton was in office, who seems to have pursued the same course that he did in the case of the unhappy Alfred Steevens, the sculptor. To insure some miserable savings in the outlay, he appears to have insisted systematically on paring away everything that could not be justified by the strictest utility. Towers were shortened, ornament of all kind was suppressed—and above all, he insisted with Procrustean severity, on almost impossible accommodation being provided, which had to be furnished to the sacrifice of light, air and room. Hence the darkened, stifling chambers, narrow passages, and tortuous communications. This was indeed being “penny wise and pound foolish.”
It is perhaps forgotten that nearly the whole structure was erected by foreign workmen—Germans principally—who were imported at the time of a great building strike, and lived in the inclosure. At the termination of the strike they continued in their employment.
The familiar clock which projects over the street was the subject of many experiments and failures. As it is there is something ungainly and lacking in proportion about it. It was tried in various positions, but the truth is it is not adapted to the tower, and the old and old-fashioned carved and gilt dials which are seen in the bye lanes of the City are infinitely more cheerful and effective.
It was long “on the cards” whether the Courts should be built on the Embankment instead of in their present locale. It is unfortunate that the former site was not selected. The effect would have been as imposing as it was convenient; but it was thought to be too far away from the haunts of the barristers—from the Temple and the Inns of Court.
The most splendid “Palace of Justice” in the world has been recently completed by “poor little Belgium.” Nothing more monumental, more stately, gigantic, can be conceived than the new Courts at Brussels. It towers over everything, and almost astounds.
Perhaps the most striking and imposing structure in all London is the great Cathedral of St. Paul.