It is highly probable that the old tavern represented the location and character of “The Magpie and Stump,” the rendezvous of Mr. Lowten (Perker’s clerk) and other choice spirits in the days of Pickwick. It is described in the Pickwickian history as being near Clare Market, at the back of New Inn, and to this position the “Old George IVth” will correspond. Joe Miller, of jocular celebrity, was, aforetime, a frequenter of this establishment, when his quips “were wont to set the table in a roar.” His seat was still shown in the bar of the old house. Dickens and Thackeray were also well remembered as visitors to this ancient hostelry. There is now a “Magpie and Stump” in Fetter Lane, at some distance hence; but it is evident that Dickens transferred the name to a tavern in this neighbourhood. It will be remembered that here Mr. Pickwick enjoyed an hour’s entertainment, listening to the legends of “those curious old nooks,” the Inns of London, as related by Jack Bamber—see “Pickwick,” chapter 21—also containing a description of the advertisements of the tavern, as then displayed therein.
“In the lower windows, which were decorated with curtains of a saffron hue, dangled two or three printed cards, bearing reference to Devonshire cyder and Dantzic spruce, while a large black board, announcing in white letters to an enlightened public, that there were 500,000 barrels of double stout in the cellars of the establishment, left the mind in a state of not unpleasing doubt and uncertainty as to the precise direction in the bowels of the earth, in which this mighty cavern might be supposed to extend.”
Dick Swiveller would doubtless occasionally patronise this establishment. He lodged hereabouts “in the neighbourhood of Drury Lane;” but it is difficult to indicate any particular house which Dickens may have selected for his accommodation.
Stretching eastward from this point is Portugal Street, famed in the same book as containing the Old Public House patronised by Mr. Tony Weller and his confrères of the coach-driving persuasion. This house—opposite the Insolvent Debtors’ Court—existed until a few years since, by name, “The Horse and Groom.” It and many more besides, have now given place to a range of new offices and buildings in Elizabethan style, on the south side of the street (forming the north boundary of New Court), and the Insolvent Court has been recently appropriated to the uses of the Bankruptcy Court. It will be remembered that it was here Mr. Samuel Weller got into difficulties, and was hence consigned to the Fleet Prison at the instance of his father; the professional services of the suave Mr. Solomon Pell being retained on that occasion. Here also a select committee of friends assembled to assist at an oyster lunch and the proving of Mrs. Weller’s will, when Mr. Pell again conducted the business to the satisfaction of all concerned.—See “Pickwick,” chapters 43 and 55.
Returning through Portsmouth Street, we come into Lincoln’s Inn Fields; and, keeping on its western side—passing Sardinia Street, with its old archway, on the left—we may note Mr. John Forster’s House, No. 58. At this house resided the friend and biographer of Dickens, and here our author was, of course, a frequent visitor. On December the 2nd, 1844, Charles Dickens here first read his new Christmas book, “The Chimes,” to a select and critical audience, including Messrs. Forster, Maclise, Douglas Jerrold, Carlyle, Laman Blanchard, Fox, Stanfield, Harness, and Dyce. The house is itself described in the pages of “Bleak House” (chapter 10) as the
Residence of Mr. Tulkinghorn.
“In a large house, formerly a house of state, lives Mr. Tulkinghorn. It is let off in sets of chambers now; and in those shrunken fragments of its greatness, lawyers lie, like maggots in nuts. But its roomy staircases, passages, and antechambers still remain; and even its painted ceiling, where Allegory in Roman helmet and celestial linen sprawls among balustrades and pillars, flowers, clouds, and big-legged boys, and makes the head ache, as would seem to be Allegory’s object always, more or less.”
As in the time spoken of, the house is still in legal possession, being let out as solicitors’ offices; but the old Allegory has disappeared beneath modern whitewash. Within two minutes’ distance northward, the weary rambler may reach the central thoroughfare of Holborn, where (turning to the left), close at hand, will be found the Holborn Restaurant, at which Sam Weller’s advice on the subject of a “little dinner” (or luncheon) may be worth practical consideration:—
“Pair of fowls and a weal cutlet; French beans, ’taturs, tart, and tidiness.”
Certain it is that everything at this establishment will be found “werry clean and comfortable,” on reasonable terms.