Arriving at Spa Road, the explorer turns left and right by the short routes of West Street South, Fream Street, and Rouel Road, into Jamaica Road (five minutes from station); passing from the opposite side of which, through Parker’s Row to the thoroughfare of Dockhead, he will find himself face to face with a tavern on the north side, named “The Swan and Sugar Loaf.” A short cut on the right of this house leads immediately to London Street, its northern side forming the south boundary of the old site of Jacob’s Island. Folly Ditch, flowing from the Thames through Mill Street, took its course through London Street (it has been filled in since 1851); and in these streets wooden bridges crossed to the Island, and “crazy wooden galleries, common to the backs of half-a-dozen houses”—referred to by the novelist—used to “ornament the banks of Folly Ditch.” To the right we pass into George Row, enclosing Jacob’s Island (east), and may note en passant the blocks of workmen’s dwellings, erected 1883, named “Wolseley’s Buildings,” which occupy the site of the old Island on its eastern side. From George Row we turn (right) into Jacob Street, north of the Island, by which we come into Mill Street (west); again returning to London Street, and so completing the circumnavigation of this interesting locality. Some of the old wooden erections still exist in Farthing Alley, Halfpenny Alley, and Edward Street, which intersect the area. In his preface to the first cheap edition of “Oliver Twist,” the author makes a further reference, as follows:—
“In the year one thousand eight hundred and fifty, it was publicly declared in London by an amazing alderman, that Jacob’s Island did not exist, and never had existed. Jacob’s Island continues to exist (like an ill-bred place as it is) in the year one thousand eight hundred and sixty-seven, though improved and much changed.”
Starting westward from “The Swan and Sugar Loaf,” we now proceed through Thornton Street, and turn to the right, by one block in the street beyond, into Queen Street, which leads directly north to the riverside. At the end of this street is the locality of Quilp’s Wharf and place of business, aforetime described in the pages of “The Old Curiosity Shop”:—
“A small, rat-infested, dreary yard, in which were a little wooden counting-house, burrowing all awry in the dust as if it had fallen from the clouds, and ploughed into the ground; a few fragments of rusty anchors, several large iron rings, some piles of rotten wood, and two or three heaps of old sheet copper—crumpled, cracked, and battered.”
The place has been altogether altered and improved during the last forty years, and is now known as “Butler’s Wharf,” but the original prototype of Quilp is still remembered by some of the older residents of the neighbourhood.
The westward route being continued by the side of the river, we walk through Shad Thames and Pickle Herring Street (underneath an archway) to Vine Street, where is the southern entrance of the Tower Subway, by which we may cross below the river to the other side. Emerging near the Tower, Quilp’s House, on Tower Hill, is near at hand. No. 6 Tower Dock, facing the public entrance to the Tower, is said to have comprised the lodging assigned by Dickens for the accommodation of Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Quilp and Mrs. Jiniwin. We may here recall the matrons’ tea-meeting, as described in chapter 4 of “The Old Curiosity Shop,” when Quilp’s conduct as a husband was freely discussed, and much good advice tendered to Mrs. Quilp for the true assertion of her rights and dignity. Also the notable occasion when, the master of the house being missing and thought to be drowned, Mr. Sampson Brass was in consultation, and the party were unpleasantly surprised, as they were preparing a descriptive advertisement, by the sudden appearance of the Dwarf, as lively and sarcastic as ever.
“A question now arises with regard to his nose. ‘Flat,’ said Mrs. Jiniwin. ‘Aquiline!’ cried Quilp, thrusting in his head, and striking the feature with his fist. ‘Aquiline, you hag. Do you see it? Do you call this flat? Do you? Eh?’”
Hard by this locality stands Trinity House, Tower Hill, with its garden in front, and it may be remembered that Mr. Wilfer suggested this neighbourhood as a waiting-place for Bella, on the occasion of their “innocent elopement” to Greenwich, while he should array himself in new garments at her expense, to do honour to the expedition. We now turn westward by Tower Street, and may save time by taking train at Mark Lane Station for the Mansion House, about ten minutes’ ride. On arrival at the Mansion House Station we shall find Queen Street close at hand, leading riverwards to Southwark Bridge, referred to in “Little Dorrit” as the Iron Bridge. This was Amy Dorrit’s favourite promenade, it being quieter than many of the neighbouring thoroughfares; and we may recall the scene when young John Chivery was obliged to take no for an answer, when he attempted the proffer of his hand and heart.
Proceeding onwards through Cannon Street, we turn to the right through St. Paul’s Churchyard, crossing Cheapside to the stately edifice of the General Post Office, St. Martin’s-le-Grand. This building, in the times of “Nicholas Nickleby,” occasioned honest John Browdie some surprise:—
“Wa-at dost thee tak’ yon place to be, noo, that ’un ower the wa’? Ye’d never coom near it, gin ye thried for twolve moonths. It’s na but a Poast-office. Ho, ho! they need to charge for double latthers. A Poast-office! What dost thee think of that? Ecod, if that’s on’y a Poast-office, loike to see where the Lord Mayor o’ Lunnon lives!”