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.”